#expect the second drabble.. Idk maybe in a couple hours?

[toomuchracket]

hey so i have absolutely no idea what this is or where it came from or which au it works for (maybe bday party or barista? idk), but here - a sultry little newly-dating matty drabble for you all:

"oh, thank you," you smile as matty hands you a glass of wine, and giggle as he leans down to press an easy kiss onto your glossy, mango-flavoured lips. his taste, as always, like spearmint gum and a hint of cigarettes; you think the combination is quickly becoming your favourite flavour. of course, the smoky sandalwood of the candle he's currently lighting is definitely up there too. "are you wasting a stupidly expensive candle on me, matthew?"

"beautiful girls deserve beautiful things, darling."

he flicks a cheeky grin back to you, and you curl further into the sofa, hiding your face behind your wine. you've never been good with compliments, and matty has an awful habit of dropping them into conversation as easy as breathing and totally overwhelming you - when you speak, your voice comes out as a murmur. "less of that nonsense, please."

"s'not nonsense, it's fact. but i really, really want you to stay here as long as possible tonight, so i'll try and keep the facts about you to a minimum."

"thank you."

"for you, anything. speaking of," he gestures to the shelves upon shelves of LPs on the wall opposite you. "wanna pick a record for us to put on, sweetheart?"

a sip of wine, a shake of the head. "you pick, please."

"alright," matty stands, scanning the collection for a second, reaching up to slide a couple of records out and deliberating. his shirt comes untucked at the back, and you have to force yourself not to fixate on the dimples at the base of his spine instead of listening to him. "so, tell me. what's new with you this week?"

you shrug. "nothing much, really. finished that work thing i was telling you about..."

"the new project?"

"yeah, just waiting for feedback on it. aside from that, it's been really quiet," you take another sip of wine as you watch matty carefully move the needle, and a memory pops into your head alongside the slow soul melody filling the room; you blurt it out before the nerves get the better of you. he'll like this. "oh, and i realised i can't make myself cum anymore."

as expected, it gets to matty - he coughs, turning and blinking up at you in bewilderment. the words seem to sink in after a second, and his pretty face shifts into a half-smirk. "yeah?" he crosses to the couch in two strides, settling himself at the opposite end from you and manoeuvring your stockinged feet onto his lap; as he has a drink of his wine, a calloused finger from the other hand traces patterns on your ankle, leaving goosebumps in its wake despite the 40-denier barrier between your respective bare skin. "please enlighten me on how you figured that one out, gorgeous."

you roll your eyes. "how'd you think?"

"well, i can tell you what i'd like to think," matty downs the rest of his wine, shuffling closer along the couch towards you; he stops when his thigh meets yours, and the closeness is thrilling. a thumb swipes tenderly over your knee. "but i'd like to hear the truth from you, please."

"alright," a smile etches its way onto your face, as it always does when he looks at you all gooey-eyed like this; it grows when you stretch to lay your glass down and his eyes trail down to your chest, and a matching one appears on his face when your hand softly cards through his hair. "hands, pillow, showerhead, vibrator, in that order, in the span of maybe... two hours? and nothing, not one method, none of it could get me off," you huff out a laugh, loving the way matty's eyes close and a small moan leaves his lips at the thought. "think you've ruined anything and everything else for me, baby."

matty hums happily, gently tugging you so you're straddling his lap and resting his arms on your hips. when he opens his eyes, you shiver excitedly at the way his pupils have dilated with want. "should've phoned me, darling," he practically coos, voice low and all but dripping with sex. "always more than willing to give you what you want, what you need."

"i know," you rest your forehead against matty's, head growing dizzy at the way your breath mingles with his. "but i couldn't have phoned you that night, baby, i really couldn't."

you feel his brow furrow. "why not?"

"because," you smile, practically into his mouth. "it wasn't long after you'd left mine. didn't want you to think i was, y'know, desperate," you laugh, and so does he, soft as silk. "but i couldn't stop thinking about you, matty. i can't stop, ever, actually, not at all."

"feeling's mutual, sweetheart."

"yeah?"

"yeah," he tilts his head, lips finding yours with pinpoint accuracy; you melt into him, sighing softly as his tongue swipes across your skin and into your mouth, simultaneously forceful and delicate and just so uniquely... matty. he breaks away at the last possible second before oxygen becomes an immediate necessity, chuckling as he gulps for air and softly caresses your hips. "fuck, you're so good. jesus," he beams, wild-eyed and messy-haired, and something in your heart cracks. "really wanna make up for the other night, now, darling, if you'll let me."

"please," your voice is wanton, but you're too wired to be embarrassed about that - it's not like you could be, anyway, with matty looking at you so sexily. "how do you want me?"

"christ, so many ways... can i deliberate while i take you to bed?"

you nod, kissing him again with a smile. "can do anything you want."

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

i’d love to see your writing, so deadpan 🙏 feel free to write anything/anyone you want !!

Deadpan: expressionless, to conceal emotion or heighten humour | Handplates WD Gaster | Warnings: restrainment, trauma flashback, just general dark implications but nothing explicit

Random! hey heyy how you been? I don't remember the last time you dropped me an ask, you should do that more often dfdjsk

when I saw this ask I immediately thought handplates Gaster and then SE Saeran, and I really wanted to do both so I’ll post the gaster one here and I’ve already written the Saeran one so I’ll put it in another post and tag you! hope you enjoy ^^

✋︎ ✌︎💣︎ 👎︎☜︎❄︎☜︎☼︎💣︎✋︎☠︎☜︎👎︎📬︎

He positioned the metal plate engraved with his initials on the back of the smaller skeleton’s hand. The child’s eye sockets were wide, brow raised; even without the leather straps, he would likely be frozen in fear.

‘Can you move?’

‘N- NO. IT… IT’S HARD TO BREATHE…’ he replied.

Satisfied, the scientist raised the dull, orange drill, already mounted with a precisely-measured bolt.

‘I… I’M SCARED.’

The taller skeleton flinched. Paused for just a moment as images and sounds flashed across his memory — the screaming, the cries of pain, the clang of metal and sparks of magic, the blaze of fire. The rattling of his own bones as he trembled, his terrified, uneven breathing. Smoke filling the sky. Dust and blood trailing across his hands and the ground. His SOUL thrumming in his ribcage.

He knew fear too well. It had made a home in his SOUL for as long as he could remember, which was a long, long time.

And in this brief moment, he hesitated.

But then he remembered why he was doing this. He remembered his resolve.

He had already prepared himself for the consequences. There was no going back.

There is only one choice. He repeated it like a mantra, if only to convince himself it was true.

‘...Good… You should be scared of me.’

Gaster turned on the drill.

I will not fail.

[shurisneakers]

harmless (viii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, protesting, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, gamer (derogatory), smidge of angst

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: listen idk what goes on at construction site and im too sexy to research so we’re going with my version of the world. hello. how are we all doing?

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He doesn’t expect to see you on TV. 

In jail maybe, for something scandalous and completely unnecessary, but not TV.

But there you are, a sign board waving around furiously in your hand, voice in protest against the demolition of the community centre. You’re flipping the board back and forth to alternate between the messages you’ve scrawled on the cardboard.

You were among a few protesting, but clearly the loudest. 

He thinks that maybe he has the weekend off if you’re too busy fighting big corporations. He’d send his support even.

Until he zeroes in on the sign when it flips over, finally reading what it says.

You better get your ass here, sarge

And so he does.

Half the crowd had dipped by the time he arrived. You were there, still the loudest, but he couldn’t help but notice the lack of people as compared to an hour or two ago on TV. He supposed that justice could wait as long as it took to get lunch from the nearest café.

“I can’t stop you from protesting, y’know.” He’s a little wary of approaching your raging self. 

“Oh, hey Barnes. You got my message.” You break away for a second to scream a bunch of obscenities at the gigantic glass building before turning to him. “You wouldn’t be able to.”

“What’s your dumb plan then?” 

“First of all, it’s not dumb. It’s stupid. Put some respect on my technological genius.” You held up a finger. “Second of all, it’s not here.”

“Where is it?” 

“At the construction site.” You point down the road. “Come on.”

Right along the way you stop to chant another slogan. He waves his arm around meekly in support. He did, after all, have to stand up for what was right, but if his publicist saw him here she’d have an aneurysm. 

The construction site isn’t very far off. It’s adjacent to the community centre, which he assumes they’re going to tear down to make more space for whatever shitty commercial building was going to take its place.

There are already a few excavators and dozers there but no one to man them since it was lunch time. What garners his attention is the small silver plate that’s on the floor a few feet ahead in the direction you’re walking towards.

“Here.” You stop once it nears. “The plan.”

“Am I supposed to know what this is?” He lightly kicked at it, earning a smack on the arm from you.

“Stop that,” you scolded, “and look at it. It’s not hard to figure out.”

He narrows his eyes. There’s a small u-shaped piece of metal in the middle of the plate. “That’s a magnet.”

“Exactly.” You clapped your hands together in excitement. “The world’s strongest electromagnet.”

He looks around. The only possibly magnetic things are the cranes and excavators around him.

“You’re going to... stop the machines from moving ahead?” he hesitates in his deduction. 

“Yep. Can’t tear anything down if they can’t get to it first.” 

Bucky looks down.

“Does this thing even work?” He toes at it again. “It’s kinda small.”

“It works beautifully, stop kicking at it, you demon-”

“What happens if I step on it, huh?” He knows this would get on your nerves wonderfully. He raises his leg. “Do I get to go home for the day?”

“You’re such a little shit,” you whine, reaching for your back pocket. “Stop bullying my invention.”

“’m gonna squish it like a bug.” He’s only half kidding about that part. “I’m gonna-”

Before he can finish his sentence something yanks him down hard. His head nearly hits the ground before his right arm shoots out to break his fall.

"Woah there, don't go falling for me as yet.” 

“What the fu-” he begins, eyes locking on his metal arm that was pressed flat against the earth.

“I told you it works,” you say smugly. “Try crushing it now, Barnes. If you can even get off the floor.”

He tugs his hand but it’s firmly attached to the thing. No matter how or where he’s applying the effort, his limb refuses to move. He’s stuck.

“Turn it off,” he sighs. “You made your point.”

“No. Stay there.”

“Y/N, shut up and turn this off,” he groans, trying to find a better position rather than chin down on the ground.

“Lay there and rot. You deserve it for underestimating me.” You huff.

“I wasn’t underestimating you, Jesus Christ.” He really was planning to just step on it, but he had complete faith that it worked. 

When he doesn’t receive a reply, his gaze follows yours. Suddenly the crane looks a lot closer than it initially did. Awesome. 

“Those are moving towards me.” He picks up on the low groan and creak of metal.

“Yeah, they are.” You nod, one hand on your hip, watching them.

He didn’t think that getting crushed under construction equipment would be how his day went. 

“Not my problem,” you decide finally after a bout of silence. 

Now that simply wouldn’t do. 

Death was definitely a problem, but what was more important was that he was going to get a dust allergy from the mud. He could already feel the blocked nose and temperature incoming.

“Are you really going to waste this on me? Don’t you have a demolition to stop?” He manages to twist his body so that he’s lying on his back.

“Good point,” you squint into the distance at the whirring of the heavy machinery. Their owners wouldn’t be happy to find them missing from their original spot. “But I still can’t help you out.”

“You’re willing to sacrifice your-”

“I can’t help you out because I don’t have an off switch. Yet,” you add the last part in a hurry.

“Then when the fuck were you planning to build one?” He sits up, leaning on his elbow. The cranes weren’t a mini object on the horizon now; the closer they got, the faster they were starting to move towards him. 

“I don’t know, after they agreed not to take down the building?”

He could just detach his arm and come back for it later he but had no guarantee that you would stop here for the day or that the vibranium could withstand all that pressure. 

“You better make a switch right now and get me out of this, I don’t care how.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, bending to assess how badly he was stuck. “You know, this thing runs really deep into the earth. It’d take forever to dig back up and then get you back to my lab and then build a switch.”

“How long?” He didn’t have a lot of time, clearly, but even generally he didn’t have the whole day to waste. He had a mission the next day. He had to put the fear of death into some Russians and bring some pirozhki back for Nat. 

“I don’t know,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Too long for my schedule anyway, I have class prep to do.”

“Motherfucke- that thing’s like twenty feet away.” He’s worried about how you don’t look fazed at all when he points at the stupid machine.

He’s about to volunteer to detach his arm when he realises it’s definitely less than twenty feet now. He had a backup just in case. It didn’t move as smoothly, but who could tell the difference when a couple of tons of pressure was aiming for your face, and hell, if he explained his circumstances of the destruction of his arm to T’Challa-

“Okay, fine.” You reach into your backpack to grab something that looked like a wrist watch. It matched the one already around your hand. 

You reach over and clasp it around his hand before turning a dial on the side.

“You ready?” you ask, ignoring the large crane that was starting to charge towards you. 

“For what?” he replies, looking down at it. He can barely hear you over the sound of the whining of machinery.  

“Teleportation, baby.” You send him a big grin before slamming down on his watch.

“Huh-” His voice cuts off immediately. 

If there’s anything that can be said about teleportation, it’s that he feels like every atom in his entire body violently splits to float around briefly before suddenly rejoining again.  

The ground beneath him feels different, and it takes him a second to realise that he was on the floor of your lair. 

“What the fu-”

“Hello,” your voice comes from above him. 

“You can teleport.” It’s not difficult for him to look at you now without the sun in his face. His arm is still stuck to the magnet but since the giant rod it was attached to was no longer deep in the ground, he could lift the entire apparatus up relatively easily.

“What, like it’s hard?” You discarded your bag on the floor. “You good? Takes a while to get used to.”

He gives you a grunt in acknowledgement, shaking his arm to see if he had any luck. It didn’t budge.

“Come on, take a seat.” You gesture to a lab chair you’ve pulled up for him on the raised platform at the front of the room. He realises that this is the first time he’s properly seen what’s actually inside your lair.

There are various buttons that do God knows what, drawers and cabinets painted black, several computer screens and gigantic pillars of glass on either side of the set up that encapsulate some green bubbling liquid. There’s a giant television set up against the wall, divided into several screens.

“Whaddya think?” You do a small swoop of your arm to show off the place.

“Gamer,” he says simply, testing his luck.

“What did you just say to me?” you recoil instantly, disgust on your face.

“It’s a gamer set up.” He points a finger at the TV screen. He was told by Shuri to use it as an insult, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. It just felt appropriate. 

“Take that back right now.” You raise a finger accusatorially at him.

“No.” He was sticking with it even though he had no idea what exactly the context was.

“Fuck your arm,” you announce, throwing your hands up in surrender.

“Fuck your demolition then,” he replies simply, getting up from his place on the chair to leave with the thing still attached to him. 

He takes one step ahead before your voice rings out.

“Sit down, drama queen,” your voice calls from behind him. “God, you’re annoying.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“I’m the best part of your week,” you fire back, ”and also your only way out of this. Now sit down.”

He didn’t even need the second warning, he was already on the chair the first time around.

“I’m not going to build a switch to turn this off. It’d take too long,” you examine the piece of equipment with more gentleness than he was expecting, “I’m going to remove it instead. It’s gonna take a while, so you better get comfortable.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s so sad,” you say without any indication of wanting to help. 

He rolls his eyes.

You pull up next to him, welding glasses covering your face and the tool in your hand. 

He turns away when you start, making sure his face is not directly within its trajectory. 

He makes himself busy by looking around some more. There are details you’ve put into the place, materials that are non-flammable made up most of the architecture. It’s dramatic, sure, but somehow the designs and colours seemed to go together. It did look sinister, he’d give you props for that.

The space was quite big. It occurs to him only then that that’s how you manage to sneak up on him so often in the past. Everything clicked. Fucking teleportation.

“So,” your voice was raised to speak over the noise. “How’s it going?”

He decidedly doesn’t answer. His position is more than enough.

“Right.” You clear your throat. 

He takes to counting the tiles on the floor, figuring out how many were there from the raised platform to the wall of the entrance. 

“Not how you imagined your day to go, huh?” you continued despite his lack of response. “But some might say it’s a privilege to be spending the day with a cool, mad scie-”

“Are you going to keep talking?” he interrupts, losing his count on the floor.

“Yeah, duh,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You got anything better to do?”

He didn’t. 

“What’s it like living with a bunch of superheroes?” You change course. He’s not sure if he’s really allowed to disclose top secret information. “I assume there’s a lot of protein shakes, talcum powder for the chafing-”

Then again, how much damage could you do by knowing that Steve preferred pancakes over waffles?

“It’s quiet,” he says. “Most of the time.”

“Save all your smart talking for the battlefield, huh?” 

He doesn’t reply. It’s quiet around the Tower. A lot of their energy goes towards missions and recuperating once they’re back. 

“You go on missions a lot?” 

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Boo, you whore,” you say with mock disappointment.

He got that reference.

“What’s your favourite food then?”

He scrunches his eyebrows.

“What?” The welding stops for a second while you look at him. “Don’t tell me that’s classified too.”

It’s not, he’s just never thought about it. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, “Pasta?”

“Vague, but I’ll take it.”

He used to boil a lot of pasta, from what he could remember of his days in hiding. Cheap and bought in bulk before he saved up enough to buy things like fruits. A lot of the times the amount of sauce he had access to was enough for maybe seasoning, not a whole component on its own. 

It’s one of the perks of being a free man in the 21st century he thinks, a steaming bowl of fettuccini drenched in sauce and garlic bread on the side. 

“What do you do in your downtime?”

“Nothing.” Well, he considers it to be a pass time and doing nothing is a full time gig. It takes effort to do nothing. He even has days dedicated to doing nothing, as suggested to him by his therapist.

“Really?” You sound a little surprised, although it’s hard to make out when you’re already speaking a lot louder than usual. “No shining your penny collection? No software update for this thing?” You tap at his arm. 

There really isn’t anything. Truth be told, he thinks he’s the most boring guy in the Tower. He sticks to himself, has a few succulents that he adores and occasionally watches trashy television. So then why are you so interested in him?

“You’re obsessed with me,” he says pointedly. “Why?”

You give a short laugh. “I think it’s the blue eyes, sarge, they’re really popping today. Gotta say, I’m loving this colour on you. Is it different from the black you wore last week? And from the one from the week before that?”

He looks down at his dark t-shirt and utility pants. He had other clothes but those were reserved for things that were not this.

“Or maybe it’s the grumpiness, I don’t know. I love it when someone shows absolutely no interest in me. Very sexy of you.” Oh jeez, you were going to continue. “Hell, maybe it’s the thighs-”

“Okay,” he interjects, feeling the need to count the tiles more than ever. He equates the heat in his neck from the welding going on beside him. 

The loudness of your laughter is clearer than the sound of metal on metal when you tug a large piece of the invention off. Things were moving fast. He could get back home to his Star Trek marathon and forget this day ever happened.

“You know, you’re more interesting than you think,” you pipe up casually. 

He doesn’t expect this and therefore he supposes he can’t stop the curiosity from enveloping his face. He hasn’t told you anything about himself, so then the inference you reached came out of nowhere.

Apparently, you take notice of the confusion on his face, even though he can’t see through the giant welding mask, because you let out a chuckle. 

“Oh, come on, really? You have no idea?” you ask lightly, pausing to see if he offers anything other than silence. “You’ve come back almost every week even though you know it’s a waste of your time, you always keep your promises and I know for a fact that if you wanted to stop me once and for all, you could have. But you’re not.”

He doesn’t realise you’ve stopped welding until you start again. Good, it gives him an excuse not to have to look at you after that. 

Frankly, he’s a little stunned.

You’re not looking at him, he can tell from his peripheral vision. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a small crush on me.”

At that, he’s forced to roll his eyes out of instinct. Thankfully you do know better.

A few screws out later, another piece comes out. You inform him that’s it’s going to get trickier from there since the circuit was a little more intricate, a lot more time than the original few pieces. He can see his Star Trek marathon fade away in the distance.

You ask him a few more questions. Some he answers with silence, others maybe a tidbit here and there. 

“How’s dating now compared to the forties?”

“Strange.” He purses his lips in thought. “One guy asked for a gym date. Didn’t know that was a thing.”

“How’d that turn out?” you laugh.

“He didn’t ask for a second one.” His Bumble matches with girls somehow had gone down since he cut his hair, but he’s not too bothered. Not like there was a huge shortage. 

He likes cats, thinks the worst merchandise that they make is the stupid baseball card with his face on it, and doesn’t have social media for the sake of his sanity. He’s seen the thirst tweets. 

Clearly, he’s revealed his deepest, darkest secrets. Utterly classified material. But he doesn’t know anything about you other than your name, number, address, where you teach, what your hobby is-

“You, uh-” he hesitates, “You got a favourite food?”

Your hands hold still to hover above what they’re working on. You fight back a smile. “Sure do.”

He asks a few more questions. Shuts up when he feels his social battery drain. That’s enough for the next month, he thinks.

The sun’s dipped down beyond the horizon by the time majority of the work is completed. Both of you have taken a few breaks to fight the feeling of stiffness that was creeping into your joints. 

You scoff and tell him you’re not planning to poison him when he denies the offer of a soda. He doesn’t deter in his decision.

“How much to go?” He has a mission tomorrow that he’d really like to get some sleep in before. Waking up at 3am to get ready was the worst part of the job. 

“Basically done.” You roll your chair back, rotating your shoulder and stretching your fingers. “There’s just this little part that I can’t access from this angle. How good are you at hanging upside down like a bat?”

Fuck it, he sighs to himself, it was almost finished anyway.

Bucky stands up, tilting his neck to the side slightly before pulling at a small latch under his arm, one so tiny that you’d never make out was even there unless you knew it existed. The arm releases from his shoulder with a small click.

He offers it to you, a piece of your magnet still attached to it.

Your eyes are slightly wide. He raises his eyebrows.

You don’t say anything, just accept it and flip it to a position you were comfortable with. It takes only a minute or two for the sound of the last piece hitting the floor to reverberate through the hall.

You give a small cheer. He lets out a tiny exhale in equal parts fatigue and relief.

“So,” you drawl, handing his arm back to him, “you could have just done that the whole time.”

He doesn’t reply, just slides it back onto his shoulder. 

“You had the option of leaving your arm here and coming back later to get it.” 

He gives it a few shakes, opens and clenches his fist shut a few times to make sure everything is working.

“You wanted to talk to me.”

He gives you a deadpan look. “I was distracting you.”

“Bullshit,” you laugh.

“Believe what you must.” He shrugs, turning around. “My job here is done regardless.”

“Oh, I believe alright,” you call out from behind him as he walks towards the entrance of your lair. “I believe you’re a sneaky bastard, Bucky Barnes.”

He doesn’t stop himself from smiling at the overdramatic gasp you give when he flips you a middle finger. From the metal arm, too. 

Next part

[jungshookz]

teeny tidbits: three years later and yoongi is still very much in love with y/n

according to my period tracking app i’m due in four days so that explains why i felt the sudden urge to sit down and write this 

also i had to go back and read the wedding drabble to double-check a minor detail and.,,.., barfs i am so sorry for all of the ceo!drabbles the writing is so tragic 

i hope u enjoy this small product of my sappiness <3 

➺ pairing; ceo!yoongi x y/n  

➺ genre; idk just very sappy and gooey and if ur a ceo!couple stan ur going to love this 

➺ wordcount; 1.4k

                                        »»————-　💞　————-««

the first thing yoongi finds especially odd when he steps into the penthouse is the fact that it’s a little too quiet for his liking

he purses his lips as he shuts the door behind him, blindly turning the lock with a quiet click as he looks around

sure, it’s almost midnight, but you’re usually tinkering around in the kitchen for a snack or watching netflix on the couch whenever he comes home late... so where are you now? 

he’s about to call out for you when he suddenly remembers that hwayoung’s definitely fast asleep by this hour and that you’d murder him in cold blood if he accidentally woke her up and ruined her sleeping schedule (she gets very grouchy when she’s not following a set schedule - and yoongi knows her sour morning attitude was probably inherited from him but he sleeps more peacefully at night thinking that it’s because of one of your genes) 

yoongi places his keys on the top of the shoe cabinet quietly before reaching down to yank his laces loose

“woah.” he holds his hands out to keep himself steady after he stands up too quickly and his head starts to spin and he starts to see double 

oof 

maybe he should’ve slowed down with the wine at dinner

it’s not his fault he’s so weak for a good red!

“shower time, showah time…” yoongi murmurs to himself as he makes his way up the spiral staircase, gripping onto the railings tightly so that he doesn’t slip on his way up, “would you like to join me? wanna come with? lemme soap you up, girl-” he slurs, smiling cheekily to himself at the possibility of being able to run his hands all over your body in a few short minutes

he gives himself a high five when he makes it to the top of the staircase successfully, wobbling for a split second before nodding to himself and giving himself a mental pat on the back  

B-)

nice

the warm light coming from the crack in the door leaks into the hallway and yoongi shuffles towards it like a moth towards a flame, reaching up to fumble at his tie with boneless fingers-

oh

yoongi immediately freezes once he reaches the door, his heart skipping a beat in his chest when he catches a glimpse of you wearing your wedding dress through the crack

he watches curiously as you smooth your hand over the neckline before turning from side to side to look at yourself in the mirror

he wasn’t expecting to see this when he came up here but he’s definitely not complaining 

yoongi presses his hand against the door frame to keep himself from accidentally stumbling in and scaring you and ruining what seems to be a private moment 

it’s just that seeing you in your dress again is triggering a sudden flood of memories of your guys’ wedding day into his mind and it’s making his heart feel all funny (it’s actually just heartburn from the wagyu steak he wolfed down earlier) 

the corners of yoongi’s mouth immediately raise in a fond smile at the recollection of you staring up at him with so much love in your eyes as he slid the silver ring onto your finger 

it was a beautiful ceremony

the food was great

the champagne was fabulous

the after-party was super fun 

the after-after party where it was just you and him alone was definitely fun as well 

he can still recall the scent of you all over him when he woke up the next morning 

and obviously the honeymoon was great - who doesn’t like paris?! 

not to mention, you still look just as beautiful as you did on the day the two of you said i do

maybe it’s just because the alcohol is making him feel all goopy inside but he wants to be a part of whatever moment you’re having!!! 

“i’m pretty sure it’s bad luck for me to see you in your wedding dress before the wedding, darling.” yoongi pushes the door open with a creak and takes his bottom lip in between his teeth to keep himself from smiling too widely, “want me to close my eyes?”

“yoongi!” you gasp, pulling your veil up and over your head as you spin around quickly, “god, i don’t understand how your footsteps are so quiet- i really think i should put a bell on you or something-”

“what are you doing?” yoongi interrupts, tilting his head curiously as he offers you a soft smile, “hopefully not wearing your dress so you can run off and marry someone else.”

“no, obviously not-” you snort, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, “i was doing some cleaning earlier and i found the box and… i don’t know, i wanted to see if i could still fit into it and… well-” you sigh, turning back around to look at yourself in the mirror before flopping your arms down in defeat, “it doesn’t zip all the way up anymore.”

“to be fair, you’ve given birth to a child since our wedding.” yoongi raises a brow, glancing down at the zipper that’s stuck halfway up your back, “even if you didn’t fit into it at all it would still be totally fine-”

“yeah, but i had to suck in a lot just to get the stupid zipper up halfway-!” you whine quietly, pouting at yourself in the mirror before gesturing to your chest, “one sneeze and my boobs are going to pop out-”

“i wouldn’t be opposed to that-”

“you know, maybe i should’ve had spanx embedded into the dress instead of it being 100% silk because silk is not a very forgiving material-”

“oh, baby…” yoongi chuckles, slinking his arms around you from behind before leaning down to prop his chin up on your shoulder, “don’t be so hard on yourself! your body literally made a human being- forgive it if it can’t fit into a dress from, like, three years ago…”

“i guess…” you trail off, leaning back a little to rest your head against yoongi’s as you continue looking at yourself in the mirror with a pitiful little frown on your face, “it’s just hard to feel beautiful when i can’t fit into most of my old clothes…”

“hey, you cut that out right now.” the smile immediately drops from yoongi’s face and he frowns at you in the mirror disapprovingly, “so what if you can’t fit into the dress anymore? you’re beautiful and like, really hot and- and even after all this time i’m still super head-over-heels in love with you and you could be wearing a potato sack and i would still think you were the most beautiful woman to ever walk the planet and- and i love y-” 

“alright, you drunk, i get it.” you giggle lightly, reaching up to pat the side of yoongi’s warm face, “i love you more.”

“good.” yoongi smiles contently when it seems like you’ve cheered up a little from his (very good and extremely persuasive, in his opinion) pep talk, “love you most.” he murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your palm

“mhm. you reek of wine, by the way-” you wrinkle your nose playfully, letting yoongi sway you back and forth gently before reaching down to pat at his hand, “i think we should get you into the shower and then into bed.”

“i think we should get we into the shower and then into bed.” yoongi corrects you, pausing for a second to think over his words, “yeah. that makes sense.”

…,..,we should get we into the shower and then into bed…..,,.

that totally makes sense

you know what he means 

“i’m only joining you so that you don’t pass out halfway through and end up falling asleep against the wall like you did last time.” you remind him, though it’s obvious he’s hardly paying attention to what you’re saying because he’s too busy nipping at the side of your neck  

“mm. hey, you know what the best part is about the zipper not going all the way up?” yoongi grins, one of his arms sliding back from your waist so he can reach for the zipper, “it makes it much easier for me to get you out of this dress.”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!) 

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!) 

[blueprint-han]

pickup lines ↠ hhj ♡

             ↳ inspired from the song i love you by treasure. (no relation to the song idk why i was inspired)

genre: fluff type: drabble word count: 1.9 K ⇥ warnings: none except one (1) teeny tiny kiss (just a peck nothing too suggestive), lot’s of fluff and pickup lines and that’s a warning. 🥺 IF THIS DOESN’T SHOW UP IN THE TAGS THIS TIME I WILL FUCKING FUME. network tag: @stayverse​

↯ note: uhfuyewhf please forgive this random outburst that overcame me, fluffy boyfriend hyunjin is just !!!!. Also my first fic woo hoo !! no particular premise of this blurb idk what this is for but i’m still gonna write it. ⇥ dawn.☀️

A long, deep sigh.

A cheek pressed against his palm, resting his head against his elbow as he stared off into space. The library was relatively quiet around him, no other sound other than the timely flipping of the page by the two other people sitting in the almost empty, spacious room.

And of course, the sound of you humming the tune that poured through the earphones you were sporting. Hyunjin could almost swear that he would fall asleep from the tune, if it weren’t for the hard wood underneath him.

Hyunjin pouted when he noticed you completely immersed in your sociology 101 textbook. Studying to be a data analyst was hard, and while it was both yours and Hyunjin’s dream job, (instead of focusing on the plethora of books lying on the table) Hyunjin found staring at the love of his life much more interesting than analyzing any sort of data.

Sunlight poured in through the open window. It was still fairly early in the morning, and while Hyunjin hated waking up early, he was more than ready to do so the moment you called him the previous night, begging him to tag along on the pretext that “it would be boring to go alone.”

And the moment you entered the library, you picked out your books and quickly drowned yourself in them, and in less than five minutes, Hyunjin found himself the one who was “bored.”

You felt a poke at the side of your arm, startling you out of your concentration.

“Hey.”

Pulling your earphones off, you smiled at Hyunjin. “Yeah?”

“You said you’d be the one bored but now I’m the one bored.” Hyunjin humphed, folding his arms across his chest. “Remind me why I accompanied you?”

You laughed, gently pinching his cheek. “Because you’re a good boyfriend.”

Being the dramatic llama that he was, Hyunjin rolled his eyes, though the subtle smile on his lips told you otherwise. “Fine finish it soon now.” He pointed before poking your arm again. “Or I’m gonna leave you and get subway for myself.”

You gasped in fake betrayal, clutching your heart as your eyes widened. It was a known fact that Hyunjin was too smitten for you, far too caring and considerate to leave you alone in the library without breakfast. And you loved to tease him about it.

Anyways, the act faltered in two seconds the moment you giggled at him.

“You’re adorable, have I ever told you that?” You mimicked his position as you faced him, admiring how he looked at the moment. Heavily lidded eyes, messy black hair, and the sunlight from behind him almost made him look like he was glowing.

At your words, Hyunjin felt the tiniest blush creep up his cheeks as he shyly admitted. “You tell me every day!”

“Well I’m going to keep telling you that, so…” you shrugged, turning your attention back to your books as hyunjin internally groaned. The library didn’t allow use of phones either, so he couldn’t just start playing around with it to kill time.

Brushing his hair off his forehead, his eyes sparkled when a thought popped into his head, a smug look on his face. Quickly grabbing his cellphone from the back of his pocket., his fingers moved against the screen — not quick enough for the librarian to notice — but at this point, it hardly mattered. The librarian was almost asleep on his table — he must’ve not adjusted to the early hours of his job very well.

When your phone dinged — signifying the arrival of a message — Hyunjin watched intently as you picked up your phone and tapped the screen a couple of times. When you grinned widely, Hyunjin knew his message had the desired affect. In all honesty, that was Hyunjin — always looking for subtle ways to tell you he loved you, and ways to keep you smiling and happy.

You reached over to push your reading classes up your nose before turning to look at Hyunjin’s direction, raising your eyebrow playfully.

Hyunjin:  Guess what I’m wearing?

He had a similar grin on his lips as he silently coaxed you to reply, and so you did just that.

You: What? Your uniform? 🤭

Knowing Hyunjin, you knew that the answer would not be so simple, but nevertheless you curiously waited for the answer.

When the reply came in, the smile on your face turned into a wide, ear-to-ear smile, cheeks almost hurting with how widely you were grinning. You tried desperately trying not to alert anyone of what you were doing, but it was getting harder with how adorable Hyunjin was being.

Hyunjin: No, the smile you gave me. You: usdyuegwydedh 🥺🥺🥺 You: you cheesehead! 😘😤 Hyunjin: But I’m your cheesehead - ;D

Hyunjin, still staring at you was in a similar state. He admitted that watching you laugh and smile was something he could never grow tired of. He treasured that moment, and it always seemed like you lightened up the whole room with just your smile.

“Hey!” you looked at him, books totally forgotten as you stared into his eyes.

“They say the eyes are the mirror to the soul.” Hyunjin said, straightening up his posture as you eyed him confusedly. “You must have one beautiful soul.”

Your jaw dropped open at the sudden explosion of pickup lines coming from your boyfriend, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as you felt yourself grow coy at his compliment.

“Oh gosh, what’s gotten into you.” You whispered, slapping his arm slightly. Hyunjin smiled devilishly when he noticed your beaming face, feeling oddly relaxed — but then again, he was always relaxed when he looked at you.

“ On a scale from 1 to 10 you’re a 9 and I’m the 1 you need. “

You gasped, squealing as you slapped his arm yet again.

“Oh lord, your cheeseball stop being so cute my heart can’t handle this.” You pouted, and Hyunjin bit back the overwhelming desire to squish your cheeks.

He always did everything in his power to make you happy, and it never changed, even after a year of dating. The love between you was pure in every way, and you couldn’t help but feel lucky to have such a caring and lovely angel for a boyfriend.

“Come on, I need to focus now, just half an hour more?” You managed to convince him (only after giving him your traditional puppy eyes which you knew he would never be able to resist), before turning your attention back tot he book.

Twenty minutes passed. Hyunjin had found himself a book to read in the mean time, but he wasn’t the type to be patient. It wasn’t ling before he reached for his phone yet again.

When your phone dinged again, you quickly snapped your attention from where it was fixed on Hyunjin, hiding it under the table as you stealthily read the message.

Hyunjin: Can we go eat now?

You laughed to yourself, brushing hair off your forehead before replying.

You: There’s still 10 minutes left 🤭 Hyunjin: Please I’m hungry 🥺 Hyunjin: pls pls pls pls pls pls pls 🥺

You quickly looked at the watch before sighing, smiling at Hyunjin before shutting your book and stretching your arms out. You’d been there for about two hours, since your college library opened fairly early. As expected, Hyunjin let out a silent squeal of victory, quickly helping you pack up before getting out of his seat, all to eager to get out of the cramped space.

“Remind me to never tag along with you again.” He chided playfully, and like you said before, you knew Hyunjin was too soft to be able to ignore your pleas — and even if he did, you had your secret weapon: puppy eyes. You only giggled and nodded. “yeah, whatever.” Allowing him to intertwine your fingers together as he pulled you out of the building.

Once you were out of the building and walking towards the nearest subway, you decided to go the park (which was incidentally opposite to the subway shop). As you walked in the almost empty park, you munched on your sandwich slowly, whilst Hyunjin had already devoured it all. You figured he didn’t drink his coffee before coming to the library, and you didn’t bother to ask either.

Hyunjin had still not et go of your hand, and every once in a while — out of pure habit — he would squeeze it gently, just as a form of reassurance. It never failed to warm your heart.

The both of you found a clean bench under the cool shade of a tree, enjoying the breeze as you finished your sandwich; while Hyunjin simply looked around the rows of trees and plants that were planted along the edge of the ground.

When Hyunjin caught your gaze on him once again, another thought popped into his head as he smiled yet again. Personally, he had no idea how he was acting so cheesy today, but seeing your reaction did not encourage him to stop.

“Do you have a map?” You boyfriend asked all of a sudden, and you frowned confusedly. Of course, you’d let your guard down from the previous explosion of cheesiness, which only fueled it more.

“Why do you ask?” You murmured.

“Because I keep getting lost i your eyes.”

“Aghhhh,” you groaned, covering your face with your palms as you looked at Hyunjin. “Where do you even get these from?” You pouted at him.

“I don’t know, maybe you bring it out of me?” Hyunjin shrugged.

“Hmph,” You pinched his soft cheek lightly, smiling as you did so.

Next, he grinned, tilting his head to the side as he gazed into your orbs. You sensed another attack coming ahead, but did nothing to stop it, because deep down, you were enjoying this way too much.

“You know at this angle, as the light hits your eyes.” A dizzy smile on his face as he gently fixed his hair, tucking some of the strands behind his ear. “I can see myself and I look great.”

That caused you to close your eyes, erupting into a fit of giggles as your eyes morphed into the softest of crescents.

Hyunjin opened his mouth yet again, but this time, you were quick to stop him.

“Ah, no young man. No more, or I’m gonna combust.” You tucked your own hair behind your ear.

“Nooooo,” He whined, pouting as he gave you the softest look that he could muster. “One more, please? Just one. Please please please please please-”

“okay fine! One more, and then no more, deal?” You looked at him smugly, and he nodded.

“Okay so, kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?”

Hyunjin had chosen that line for a joke, expecting to get yet another slap on his arm, or a shy turn of your head. What he didn’t expect was for you to blush profusely before you leaned in, pressing a soft peck to his lips.

When you pulled away, Hyunjin’s eyes were widened as you stared at each other silently for two seconds, before you snapped your fingers in front of him, pulling him out of his daze.

“You were wrong.” You stated as nonchalantly as possible, shrugging at him as you got up, grabbing your bag as you began walking towards the exit.

“H-hey, wait for me!” Hyunjin cried, not being able to suppress his smile as he ran towards you, immediately entwining your fingers once again. And the rest of the walk was spent just like that, in peaceful silence as you enjoyed each other’s presence in the cool, moist air.

“You’re such a goofball,” You mumbled at him, gaining his attention as you rubbed your thumb against the back of his hand. And before he could even reply with his loving, playful gaze, you completed the statement yourself, eyes twinkling in content.

“But you’re my goofball.”

↯ note: i pray to every god out there please just show up in the tags for fuck sake i worked hard on this ; - ; ⇥ dawn.☀️

[skzafterdusk]

kim seungmin + “I Love It”

This was requested from the Dean Title Track Prompt List I posted where you can pick an SKZ member and a song for a drabble fic

Word Count: 2.9k (idk if that’s considered drabble length)

Tag: kitchen sex, college!au, photographer!Seungmin

Summary: You and Seungmin rent a high-rise apartment for his birthday weekend. And, well, birthday sex...’nuff said.

You and your boyfriend checked into the apartment earlier this morning, wanting to spend some time together before he headed to the one class he had on Fridays. It was no burden to him, of course; an intermediate portrait photography course that he’s been so engrossed in.

But that only meant, shortly after you guys settled into your home for the weekend, Seungmin was pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before leaving you there alone.

You had taken painstaking care looking for the best apartment to rent, wanting something with tons of natural light that you and Seungmin got drunk on, but also a view of your fabulous city, Seoul. This was the gift you settled on for his 20th birthday which, unfortunately, fell on a weekday where both of you would be too busy with classes. 

The view, as you hoped, was incredibly lovely. From the wall of windows in the living room, you were able to see the sun as it continued to rise over the city. It was so calming, in fact, that you decided a nap would be in order after you took the time to unpack Seungmin’s and your stuff. The close you brought, the fruits and vegetables you washed, your favourite ground coffee sat next to the coffee machine.

It’s almost as if you guys actually lived there. Having a dream be a reality for so short of time could definitely be the spark to motivate you once you had to go back to the real world. 

And so, a couple hours later, you finally went to the bedroom, laying on top of the covers so as not to disturb anything too much, and allow the unfamiliar serenity of the new place lull you to much needed rest…

Maybe you’ve been slowly coming to for some time now, the room just as silent as it had been when you fell asleep. But even with your eyes closed, the presence of another life redistributes the quiet, makes an empty space feel more full.

And it’s the familiar sound of a light shutter that makes you blink until your eyes flutter open.

The room is much warmer than it had when you initially fell asleep. Even in the shadows of the bed frame, Seungmin seems to radiate the glow like the sun that is clearly setting from the windows behind you.

And, much like you had expected, Seungmin’s white camera is in his hands, a soft smile on his lips as he inspects the photo before looking up again.

He’s crouched down so your faces almost entirely leveled, close so he doesn’t have to raise his voice.

“You just looked so peaceful and beautiful,” he explains. “Wanna see it?”

You lift yourself onto your elbow so you can lean forward as he shows you the camera screen. And there’s a grin on your lips before you even notice.

Despite the subject, it’s still a wonderful composition, the sun a vibrant and warm orange spilling rays through the floor to ceiling walls behind the bed. The burst floats above your darker silhouette, but your relaxed features are still distinguishable.

“I love it,” you say. Your hand is already reaching for his face, wanting to kiss him while the serenity of the moment is still present.

You both drink in the moment, both are slow to press your lips to eachother’s and even slower to pull away.

“Happy Early Birthday, Minie.”

“What do you have planned for me this weekend?”

With that question, you readjust yourself, sitting up. Seungmin follows suit, coming to sit next to you on the bed while you explain the plan for the night.

“I figured we would cook our meal for tonight. So we’ll need to go to the market to buy meat. And we can get you a cake, as well.”

With the plan set, you both went about freshening up, Seungmin wanting to rid himself of the simple clothes he’d worn to university for the day, and you adding the smallest of makeup just to make yourself more put together.

Going to the market together reminded you of when you’d first started dating, Seungmin insisting on cooking for you because you were both young college students that didn’t have the means to always eat out. When you got back to his dorm, that was when you discovered that maybe his cooking skills relied more on ambition than technique. 

Even though it’s been a year and a half, it feels like so much has gone down since then. From sharing classes to being on opposite sides of campus, from late night study dates or photography adventures, you’ve grown to know Seungmin to a point where imagining him not in your life is kind of impossible.

“I’ll start prepping the vegetables,” he states matter-of-factly once you guys are back at the apartment. By now, the sun is further behind the city. You need to turn on the ceiling lights for proper illumination, and you’re seeing this space in a (literally) new light.

“Hey,” Seungmin calls to you, putting a hand on your elbow. You realize, then, that your mind had begun to wander, staring at your reflection in the window across the room. “What are you thinking about?”

It was a commonplace question for the two of you. Similar in the way that both of you tended to stay in your own heads, you both understood that all it took was a simple question to bring you back and converse with each other. You’d be lying if you hadn’t spent some nights just appreciating that aspect alone.

When you look at him, you smile wide, quickly popping up to kiss him on the jaw.

“I’m just really happy we met.” There is no other way to put it, even if it comes out bluntly. Even though the confessions of being in love with eachother have come and gone, it wasn’t common for you to just say those words. It was said in different ways; in the way he told you to worry about an assignment late and focus on yourself now, the way you asked him about whatever project he was working on in his photography class. Sometimes, like now, though, the words just need to be said as plainly and complex as they are.

“I love you.”

With his hand still on your arm, he pulls you into his chest. “I love you,” he repeats.

The moment passes easily and smoothly, and soon the kitchen is filled with a cacophony of sounds: meat sizzling in a pan, the overhead fan whirring to combat all the steam and smoke wafting the air. A jazz playlist blares from his phone on the island. Everything is so picture perfect, you think absently.

Seongmin must think this, as well, as he holds his camera up to his eye. You don’t even know when he retrieved it, but now he’s having a shoot of his own, taking shots that you can’t fathom look all that nice, but they’re endearing.

You turn the stove off as the meat finishes cooking, impatiently grabbing a piece to taste.

“Hey! Already starting without me?” teases Seungmin as he puts his camera down.

You scoff. “Head chef always gets to taste first.” At the playful pout on your boyfriend’s lips, concede easily. “But siux chef gets to taste, too.” And you feed him a piece he eagerly takes.

You don’t even bother taking the food over to the dining table, nor do you bother with using plates and dishes. Possibly you didn’t realize how hungry you both were, but there’s something so nice about just standing there, talking in between bites, laughing about random anecdotes.

“Is it time for birthday cake?” Despite phrasing it as a question, you’re already rounding towards the refrigerator where you’d put it once you got back from the store.

There’s arms suddenly wrapping around your waist, his chin hooking on your shoulder from behind.

“We have all weekend for cake. Kinda want you for dessert.”

Despite his words, you scrunch your nose up, looking at him awkwardly from where his face is. “Your reasoning is flawed, sir. You can have me all weekend, too.”

And, really, he shouldn’t look as adorable as he does when he raises his brows and widens his eyes. “Really? All weekend? It really must be my birthday.”

Your elbow is light to jab him from behind at his cheesy words. But he only gives enough room for you to turn in his hold. Your hands slide to rest on the back of his neck, your fingers having a mind of their own as they start to play with the hair there.

“And you ‘kinda’ want me? You’re gonna have to know for sure, Min,” you playfully reprimand. 

His eyes darken, smile falling from his lips. It’s an expression that commands attention, and you obey effortlessly.

“I’m still hungry, (Y/N),” he starts, his voice low. “How about I eat you, instead?”

You hum. “Cannibalism. Sexy.”

Luckily, he doesn’t pay much attention to your words, only swoops down to pull you into a heated kiss that leaves you breathless. He’s quick to lick his tongue along your bottom lip, dives in when given the slightest entry. Even though this is nowhere near your first time, your body always ignites with desire at how strong his passion drives him forward.

You lock your arms around his neck when his grip on your waist grows stronger, begging your body to be flushed against his. Pesky clothing aside, you can feel the heat of his body, the way his chest heaves with yearning for oxygen that comes as second priority to just consuming you.

But when he does break away, it’s to switch your positions, the island digging into your lower back as he goes back in. He tilts your head, licking into your mouth behind your teeth. He swallows the moan his actions illicit. They taste sweet going down, if it wasn’t obvious by the way he does it again and again.

You beg him softly. “Do something, please.” Sometimes he makes you impatient, makes you need him now. And just as you obey him, he never denies you what you want.

A normally gentle man turns quite wild, his hands heavy as they work to rid you of your shirt and bra. Your chin tucks into your shoulder while his lips trail down the other side, biting and kissing at your exposed skin. Your half-lidded eyes catch that reflection you admired earlier. The night now almost completely blackened with a sunless sky. Even though a world lives outside that window, all you can see is the scene it showcases.

You with your man buried in your neck, his fist clenched to the edge of the counter beside you.

Just as quickly, he brings you back to this moment in your own skin when he brings his lips back to yours. Now it’s your turn to work on his shirt, immediately going for his pants next. Without much fanfare, you wrap your hand around his hardening length, feeling a chill run down your spine at the harsh gruff it sparks from his throat.

“Later,” he says after some time of you languidly squeezing him up and down. “Worry about that later. Hop on the counter.”

You listen wordlessly, pulling yourself up until you’re sat on the edge of the surface. You start with your pants as Seungmin goes to a bag sitting on the floor next to you, where he pulls out a bottle of lube.

The moments slow, or maybe you’re just so focused on your boyfriend, but every move he takes, you register it in anticipation. Even as he fills your space, somehow crowds around you, you can hear the click of the bottle cap, 

What doesn’t cross your mind is how closely he’s watching you, as well. Surely, some of it is making sure that he takes care of you, but it’s also just because you can be much more expressive than you are verbal. And it’s so delicious to watch the way your brows twitch when he slides the first finger in, quickly following with the second. 

On some other nights, he’d take his time. Maybe you can save that for tomorrow, or when you make it to the bedroom for the night. Right now, however, his thumb is already on your clit, pleasure shooting through your nerves in the best way possible. It’s the type of pleasure that brews underneath the surface, and you can feel the way it bubbles up in your core.

He opens you nice, spreading his fingers inside you while rubbing circles on your bundle of nerves. When he curls his fingers inside, you jerk forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers carding into his strands and fisting there.

He groans at the way you clench around him, the way you feel so wound up. Should he let you cum now, with his fingers alone? 

“Cum, baby. Cum for me,” he whispers into your ear. You nod senselessly, feeling your walls fight to suck him in so you can never let him go.

When your orgasm finally comes, soft whimpers tremble from your open mouth. He removes his fingers slowly, knowing you’re still sensitive.

Slowly, you come to, sensing the world around you. The jazz music still lulls on, quiet sounds of brass and string instruments. 

But you don’t want to come down so soon. So you lift your head from where it rests on his shoulder. His gaze is still lustfilled, and your muscles jump, still wanting more.

“Fuck me, please?” It comes out as a question, though you both know it’s a given. One of your hands slither between your bodies, going back to your earlier action of stroking him. He’s already hard, and your mind drifts to the thought of him fucking you. 

In that moment you take over, mind still foggy from your orgasm. You fumble for the bottle of lube, unceremoniously putting some on your hand and wrapping it around his cock to slick him up.

With his eyes clenched shut, he rests his forehead against yours, taking a second to breathe before letting you guide him inside, taking him in entirely.

And your body never gets used to him, never gets used to how he seems to encompass you, makes you forget where your body ends and his begins. He must be magical to make you incoherent in this manner.

His thrusts start off slow and hard, almost like he’s savouring the feeling of you around him. And it’s tantalizing, the way his cock feels. Your body just wants to inhale him in any way possible. So you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer so he can just grind into you. The moan you let out is long and sweet to his ears, makes him want to hear more, taste more.

You kiss as best you can, one hand digging into your waist to keep you steady, while the other makes its way between your bodies. 

“Fuck, fuck-” you moan out at the feeling of his fingers rubbing at your clit. It’s painful the way the pleasure gets dragged through you again. But you love it, love the way it confuses your senses to the point that you can’t help but breathe out an airy laugh.

“(Y/N),” groans out Seungmin into your ear. “Shit you feel so good.”

His thrusts become irregular, and soon you find yourself trying to hold off, counting down the breaths until he finally cums, fucking into you so hard that you know you’ll be able to feel him.

And when that happens, your orgasm cums out through the trembles of your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. He kisses you breathlessly as you both come down, still connected and basking in the moment of you intertwined.

When you pull back, you grin. “Happy Early Birthday,” you say again. You’re sure he’ll hear it a few times this weekend.

He smirks, finally pulling away. It always feels weird at first, to be empty. But he still remains close, and it’s enough.

“Happy, indeed.” His gaze stays on you, searching. 

It’s your turn to inquire, “What are you thinking about?”

He gives a heavy sigh, and you ready yourself for some heartfelt words that will sound incredibly cheesy.

“I think I want cake now.”

You shove his chest automatically, giggling just as he does. 

“How about we shower first. You never like the feeling of bodily fluids drying on you.”

He turns his nose up. “Why do you have to call them ‘bodily fluids’? That just sounds nasty.”

“Should I just say you need to clean your dick, then?”

Your legs feel like jelly when you slide down from the counter top, but you regain your strength quickly, walking back to the bathroom down the hall. Seungmin follows close behind, complaining about your phrasings.

When he grabs you from behind, your peripheral catches the reflection coming from the window in the bedroom. To feel so free in this way, you know this kind of life you could easily acclimate to. And just as you suspected, this is the plan for the future: to love him as he loves you, to be in your own world with him as everything around you keeps going.

Val’s Note:

Somehow this ended up being perfect timing since our Seungmin’s birthday is coming soon! It seems like the Seungmin smut tag is lacking, and I understand why. He’s normally just this adorable guy, even when he’s not meaning to be. But we’re not about to just fly by him during this era in particular??? Hello????

If you’d like to make a request for the Dean Title Track fic, you can do so, here!

[callioope]

Author Interview

tagged by @theputterer -- thank you :) 

Name: Liz

Fandoms: In terms of posted fics, mainly Rogue One and Star Wars (OT). I have at least one fic posted in A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones, Community, and Howl’s Moving Castle (book). But I also like The Clone Wars and Rebels. I’ve been reading mainly ATLA fic for the past couple weeks. 

Where you post: AO3 and sometimes here on tumblr. There are a few drabbles I’ve posted on tumblr that I really ought to crosspost on AO3 for posterity. 

Most popular one-shot: “In Which Sophie is Late, and Howl Noses Around in Her Business” (Howl’s Moving Castle) With 698 kudos. Uh. Wow. I was not expecting that! It’s literally my only HMC fic (although I do technically have other unfinished drafts) and it’s not even a year old, and surpassed my second most popular one-shot which was posted in 2015. Pregnancy trope is popular I guess. It is amusing to me that my most popular one-shot is not in my favorite OTP fandom (rebelcaptain). Howl’s Moving Castle ended up having a wider audience than I anticipated. 

Also as a disclaimer, but popularity is weird to gauge because do you go by hits or kudos or comments? I went with kudos because hits could count people who clicked on my story and then didn’t like it. But it’s hard because hits also include re-reads, so, idk. 

Most popular multi-chapter fic: “The Last Stark” (A Song of Ice and Fire) 815 kudos. This was finished in 2013 so it’s had plenty of time to accumulate the kudos. It’s a Gendrya Anastasia AU (“Aryastasia” was my working title for this one lol). So again, popular trope, in a popular fandom, in a popular ship. This fic is so old when I reread it, I usually find myself wanting to edit it, especially the ending. I was so ready to be done writing this that I think I rushed the ending. Oh well, writing plots is really difficult!

Fic you were nervous to post: Every fic? lol. I’m never not nervous to post a fic. But I’m definitely more nervous posting in a fandom for the first time. So posting “Whatever I Do (I Do It To Protect You)” (Rogue One, rebelcaptain) was pretty nervewracking, especially since it’d been awhile since I posted anything. [OOOH, fun fact, but WID celebrated it’s 4 year anniversary yesterday! Ha, that’s funny.] I was working on this fic for weeks before I posted it. 

I was also super nervous to post my Jeff/Annie Community soulmate AU, “Intro to Neurochemical Compatibility” because (a) first time posting in that fandom, (b) I decided to use script format which I know is not everyone’s jam, and (c) the premise is just so ridiculous! But I had fun with it. 

Also gift exchanges are always nerve-wracking because I worry the giftee won’t like it. My giftee never responded to my 2020 rebelcaptain secret santa fic so I’m actually constantly worrying that they didn’t like it and feeling bad that I failed them. :/ 

How you choose your titles: with so much agonizing. gosh it’s so hard and honestly i have so many titles that i hate. I’ve got a couple song lyric titles. a couple quotes. a couple “how to...” apparently that was a whole phase I went through. Either the titles come to me immediately, or I put off choosing a title until the absolutely moment I need to post it, and then spend hours agonizing over a quote/song lyric/phrase that fits and probably begging others for help.

Do you outline: YES. Possibly overly so. I’ve ran into issues in the past, when I was much younger, where I didn’t resolve problems proposed early in the story. So I need to know where the story is going in order to lay the proper groundwork. Also, if I do not write things down I forget them five minutes later. I also think outlining is a useful trick to jumpstart writing, so if the muse just isn’t present, I’ll try to lure her out by outlining. 

Complete: 19 fics. 

In progress: Oh boy this is so hard to count. As far as what’s posted? Technically only one: “How to Lose a Spy in 10 Days” (Rogue One, rebelcaptain). Despite the fact that I think the deadline was extended multiple time, I procrastinated and ended up rushing chapter one to meet the rebelcaptain rom-com challenge deadline. Didn’t really have a proper outline for this one, even though I knew vaguely what I wanted it to be about. I wrote chapter two but I hated what I wrote so I ... I kinda abandoned it. I mean technically, I never consider a work abandoned, I always intend to get back to it. Some day when I have the inspiration I will. But this idea ended up being a challenge I didn’t feel ready for at the time, and then my interest moved on to other ideas.

I also had a longer story planned for “you must become an island (the horizon is all we have)” but only posted one part of it to finish it on time. Ideally this fic would be part of a series, but again, motivation is needed so we’ll see

Technically I have 22 rebelcaptain ideas alone (including some listed in this post) at various states of completed, plus a handful of Community and HMC ideas. Of the ones I’m most interested in, there’s probably about 14 that I really hope to finish and post some day. 

ETA: omg i totally forgot that i was idly considering trying to finish my rebelcaptain soulmate AU in time for Valentine’s Day, but at this point I haven’t had any motivation to write so I don’t think that’s gonna happen. that fic has been sitting in my drafts since 2018 and in my drafts it will continue to sit.

Coming soon: “soon” is relative but these are currently the ones I’ve focused the most on recently:

Fencing AU (rebelcaptain)

You’ve Got Mail AU (rebelcaptain)

Post-War Fic with @allatariel (rebelcaptain, plus a LOT of other ships, includes Rebels characters, OT characters, and... maybe some others :) )

Palm Springs/time loop AU (Jeff/Annie)

Do you accept prompts: Wellllll here’s the thing. When I’ve asked for prompts, I haven’t been the best at fulfilling them in a timely manner. For that reason, I don’t encourage prompts but I’m not opposed to them. (I suppose technically exchange fics are prompts, and I wrote a bunch of fics in 2017 for rebelcaptainprompts, but I’m not gonna count those because I don’t think that’s what the question here is really going for)

“The Climb (A Lie, A Hero)” (Rogue One, rebelcaptain) was actually a prompt. 

I solicited prompts for my birthday in 2019, which I didn’t end up fulfilling until exactly one year later. 

Technically the You’ve Got Mail AU is a prompt, someone prompted me to write a fic for my favorite go-to comfort movie.

And, uh, the certain someone who tagged me for this meme prompted me in a comment back in October 2017 to do a Luke and Leia swap where Leia grows up on Tatooine, so that is sitting in my WIP list. 

Yeah, this is why I don’t solicit or encourage prompts. The return rate is just not fair for the prompter. 

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: this fluctuates on any given day. the fencing AU is so close to being done (well the first draft anyways) so i really really want to just finish it! But yeah it’d be anything on the coming soon list above.

tagging: @allatariel, @cats-and-metersticks, @lothcatlovesysalamiri, @veritascara, @brynnmclean and anyone who sees this and wants to do it! also ofc per usual no pressure if u don’t want to.

[derryhawkins]

it starts getting cold out and richie rocks up wearing mike's blue sweater from st season 2 and eddie can't form a sentence for at least 15 minutes

i stared at this for a solid 3 seconds bc i was like “mike??? hanlon?????? in st???” before i realized,, i’m dumb i’m sorry sfjk but i made this into a little one shot/drabble thing idk what to call it, but hope this is ok (also it’s like…midnight…so like this might be shit)

Gay Panic

It’s the end of November. It’s just barely above freezing. It’s windy as all shit. The forecast for the up coming week is snow, snow, and more fucking snow. Yet somehow the group of seven came up the bright idea of spending their free Tuesday afternoon outside. If one considers their underground clubhouse outside which, for your information, Eddie abso-fucking-lutely does, and that’s the exact reason the sixteen year old is in a few warm layers of clothes with a warm winter hat with thing strings, gloves, winter boots, and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders because he refuses to get sick. Because, then his mother will be on his case and might possibly not let him outside the rest of the fall and winter months, and he can’t have that. The others, of course, are dressed similarly but not to the degree of Eddie.

There’s Bill, with a sweatshirt under a jacket and a pair of fuzzy socks on his hands because he lost his gloves the other day. Beverly, her slightly grown out hair put into the braids to keep her ears warm, a cute beanie on her head. Ben, with warm gloves he’s now lacking because he gave them to Beverly when her hands got cold a few hours earlier. Stan, dressed like Eddie but somehow looks neater and way more put together even though the other boy looks pretty put together, too. Mike, with his own winter hat and earmuff and gloves, and he wears a comfortable looking sweater that all the losers would steal if given the chance. 

Then there’s Richie. Eddie shouldn’t really care, but he does, because for once Richie’s wearing normal autumn and winter clothes instead of just a loose jacket over either a Hawaiian shirt or a long sleeve tee that does absolutely nothing against the cold weather. On this rare of occasion of Richie actually listening to his friends and parents about wearing something that’s actually warm, he’s wearing a sweater. And it’s something that isn’t that rare around Christmas time when he pulls out the ugliest sweaters that makes everyone groan and moan and complain - he got one a couple years ago that said, “ask your mom if i’m real,” with a winking Santa Claus just to wear it around Eddie - but this isn’t just an ugly Christmas sweater. 

Well, it is, Eddie thinks, but not entirely ugly because it suits Richie. It fits him perfectly. It looks good. It looks pretty. Richie Trashmouth Tozier looks pretty, of all things, and that’s why Eddie is sitting in the hammock with a comic book, brown eyes wide and glued on his long time crush as he obnoxiously greets the others after entering the clubhouse. Eddie wants to speak up, to say something like, “Nice fugly sweater you got there,” but he can’t because that’s a lie.

It’s a nice sweater! On an attractive boy! A boy Eddie has a crush on! And, sure. Yeah. Paired with the glasses, Richie also looks like a big fucking nerd. But a cute one. A cute nerd Eddie suddenly wants to kiss so bad that his grip on the comic book is crinkling the pages. And maybe he’s staring too intently or whatever, or something, because Ben is speaking up a few feet away.

“You okay, Eddie?” Ben asks, head tilted to the side the littlest bit.

All the teen can do is smile and nod because that stupid fucking sweater has some kind of effect on him where he can’t form words.

Ben’s brows knit together. “Alright. You just look tense, I was worried for a sec.”

Eddie opens his mouth to say something like, “I’m fine, don’t worry, just scared of getting sick because of my mom,” but nothing comes out so he clamps his mouth shut, gives Ben another closed mouth smile, and lays down in the hammock, ready to get back to reading the comic as the others talk above the low holiday music. 

Not even two seconds later Richie is crawling into the hammock and making himself at home beside Eddie. This shouldn’t be a problem - it never it, they’ve shared it plenty of times before - but it is somehow, Eddie’s vision moves from the comic he clearly isn’t reading and to the stupid fucking sweater, and somehow it’s all prettier up close - blues and tans and whites and maybe there’s a little green in there but it’s mostly just blue - meaning Richie is prettier up close - freckles are more noticeable and his brown eyes look deeper and the curls just really add to the look. Eddie’s mouth goes dry but there’s spit building up at the same time, and he’s pretty sure his shoulders are permanently tensed up by now because he can’t relax with his crush looking like that literally right beside him.

“Eds! Don’t you look fuckin’ cozy over here in, what, seven layers?” Richie teases, cheeks a bit pink because of the cold weather, and then he tugs at one of the strings of the hat Eddie’s wearing.

Eddie can only stare. He leans his head back a little to get a better look at Richie as he tries to get words to go from his brain to his mouth, but all he can think is, You look good. Kiss me, please fucking kiss me, can I kiss you? And, well, Eddie doesn’t want to ruin their friendship yet so he stays quiet.

Richie smirks. “Cat got your tongue? I know, I know, I have that effect on people,” he says. Then, he pinches Eddie’s cheeks, expecting the other teen to swat his hand away so when he doesn’t, Richie frowns. “Dude, really, you good?”

He lifts his shoulders and leans back against the flimsy side of the hammock. “Uh…” Eddie licks his lips, some weird sound of ‘yeah’ and ‘no’ morphed together that none of the others can understand.

Richie’s now concerned, and he leans closer to Eddie, which only makes Eddie try to back up more. “Eds, seriously, are you-?”

The weight of them leaning on more than one side than in the middle causes the hammock to flip, in turn causing them to flip. Meaning, they tumbled into a heap of lanky limbs on the wooden floor of the clubhouse, gaining everyone’s attention, and Eddie seriously wants to curse whatever gods are out there for having Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas start to play the exact moment his vision focuses above him only to see Richie’s face inches away from his own.

And if Eddie had any remaining control of his mouth he certainly has none now, because before he knew it - before Richie knew it, before the losers knew it - Eddie is planting one right on Richie for the tiniest second before scrambling out from under the taller teen and jumping to his feet, face beet red. 

“I’m gon- uh. I- you guys want… Did- wait. I- fuck. Hot chocolate!” 

Then, Eddie’s dashing out of the clubhouse, leaving behind a too stunned Richie and jaw dropped losers.

[chaldeaslunchbox]

My Surprise to You: Roommates!!!

Alrighty, because I am a promise keeper, I will now reveal to you all what my special present to you all is! I really hope you’re not disappointed though! Also this was released a lot later than expected sorry dsdfsfd.

Drumroll please...*dodododododododo noises*

I have been writing a modern, non-magical AU based on Fate/GO though centralized around Arturia Pendragon and Diarmuid Ua Duibhne and I would like to share it with you all! 

Link to my fanfic here: Read Roommates

(Scroll down to the bottom for the instructions on how to read my story and to skip over my introduction that I recommend you still read lol).

I don’t really care for the word fan-fiction (even though that is technically what it is lmao), so let’s just call it a story in general, yes that sounds better. For me, this is in essence a way for me to maintain some casual writing skills and develop a different kind of story given the dearth of non-magic AU’s for Fate esp. with this couple. Plus I like real-world AU’s more bc they give me more opportunity to really develop the world around us through the lens of fictional characters w out the constrains of keeping it in their society. For me it’s a lot more natural and progressive in terms of coming up w content.

So just some background about it, I was first inspired to write this about a year and a half ago after a specific Fate/Zero episode *cough* The End of Honor *cough*.

Though this will be a story involving as many F/GO characters as I can shove into it, overall it will be a rom/com/dram revolving around our favorite Fate poster girl/shister queen (king?) Arturia and Cu’s bad luck lancer prerequisite Diarmuid. 

Honestly, I loved their dynamic in F/Z as they tried so hard to maintain the dignity and respect they believe in while trapped in a game of malicious underhanded moves. I mean, lowkey, Arturia v Diarmuid at the beginning is still one of my favorite fight scenes of all time bc of the action between the hands covering up the real fight in their minds in who can outwit the other first. 

On the other hand, in F/GO, if you look into Diarmuid (Saber)’s dialogue, almost a quarter of the miscellaneous is him asking about the “Kishi-ou” and idk about you dudes but I think that’s super cute shit right there like damn. 

In short: Together, they’re cute as fuck.

Here’s a back-cover drabble of what it’s about:

It was luck meeting the first time, the second time it was fate. 

Arturia Pendragon, over-worked and under-paid, tries her best to thrive in the harsh city light that leaves all who cannot keep up behind. She envisioned dreams, riches, hopes, yet she only got Carpal Tunnel Syndrome in return. It was a rainy night, after the long-hours of overtime when she finally took a chance and stumbled upon Volumen, a quirky Irish Pub owned by a British couple with delicious food cooked by the Japanese.

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne was doing great, of course he was. He felt a bit more refreshed than he had a bit earlier, but then again, that was when the Smirnoff that was doing the thinking, not him. It was only after his drunken stupor that he came to admire the vast cityscape for its infinite ability to let people leave no trace behind, their steps clouded by thousands others in the distance. Yet he still found himself wondering where she had gone, if she was still in city limits, her footprints and shadow masked by the illusory skyscrapers and dreams clouding the bright blue sky. Oh, but now was not the time to be thinking about that, it is time to go; Kayneth is calling for the manager, and he is not a patient man.

OOF doesn’t really explain the title does it? Well, I suggest you read the story and zoom in real close to the first sentence of the drabble and see if you can figure anything out ;).

No trigger warnings or anything except for maybe alcohol? I mean a lot of scenes are set in a pub so I mean??? 

SKIP TO HERE FOR INSTRUCTIONS ON HOW TO READ:

I’ve moved my fic to fanfiction! I’m too lazy to continue updating via email so here you go!:

Fanfiction.net link:

READ ROOMMATES HERE ON FANFICTION.NET!

I’m now on Ao3! Read there at this link:

READ ROOMMATES HERE ON AO3.ORG!

Lastly: Anything involving Roommates will be tagged w #roommates story so please use this for further reference.

Thank you very much everyone and I hope you all continue to support me! I look forward to great things ahead!

My bbs

[goldenchildkatsuki]

Hey I was wondering if you can write a oneshot/Drabble thing for kacchako if you’re not busy 😊 no pressure. Oh and for a prompt I was thinking like a single parent au kind of thing idk I’m not good with this stuff sorry lol

Thank you so much for sending in your request, I had a lot of fun writing it!

Summary: Bakugou Katsuki, a dad of 27 has a hard time getting his son Bakugou Hikaru to swimming classes. He keeps wondering why it’s such a chore to get the kid to school. The class is supposed to be fun, right? He couldn’t imagine it wasn’t with the teacher he had for the class.

Writers note: I asked on Tumblr to send a cliché fanfiction trope in my ask box and I would make a decent Kacchako drabble out of it. This is for the eleventh ask I received. Someone asked me to write a single parent AU. Not gonna to lie, I had never thought about this before I got the prompt, but I really liked coming up with ideas for it. I especially liked coming up with Hikaru’s character and writing the dynamic between father and son.

Word count: 4.759

AO3 link: (x)

THURSDAYS

“You’re fine,” Bakugou said as he put the thermometer on the nightstand.

“But I don’t feel fine!” Hikaru moaned.

“Well, says here that you are, so get your ass out of bed.”

Bakugou threw the covers from his son and clapped twice in his hand. The boy kept laying in his bed, looking at his father as if he was begging for mercy. He was stupidly good at making his eyes look glassy. If you didn’t know any better you would think the kid was going to burst out tears in a second.

But Bakugou did know better.

He had seen his son try to pull this way too many times.

Before he would make the mistake of trying to take his temperature again and after showing the same result he would not take the risk of him possibly getting ill. He would tuck the little guy in and call him in sick.

Which conveniently tended to happen a few weeks in a row now.

When Bakugou noticed the pattern he called Hikaru out for his behavior. But his son had a hard head and held on that he never pretended to get out of school. Not even once. He looked the nine-year-old dead in the eyes and he stared right back at him. That kid had no intention of giving in.

Even though Bakugou had spotted he was indeed lying, as he expected.

Every time Hikaru lied, he had this habit of doing this strange thing with his lips. He would roll them into his mouth after every sentence that was a lie. Very obvious.

But even after calling him out for that he still held on. And since Bakugou didn’t have the proof nor the time to beg to differ he let him off with a warning. He hoped that would at least faze the guy and he would think twice about claiming that he was getting ill on a Thursday.

He should’ve expected that it wouldn’t.

Props to the kid for being adamant. But he should know where he got that trait from. There was no way in hell he was going to let Hikaru skip today’s swimming class. He was already behind as it was. Would he not come to this class he would without a doubt get put into the special summer training program. Which was the last thing Bakugou wanted.

It didn’t take too many classes for Hikaru’s swimming teacher to suggest the training program. When Bakugou first heard about it, it wasn’t too big of a deal. He wanted his son to be decent at swimming after all. But when he saw the date for the program he immediately thought that it maybe wouldn’t be that big of a deal if his nine-year-old son had to swim with floaties until he went to middle school. The training fell right into the time span where Bakugou had Hikaru over for the summer.

Though it would only be ‘a couple of hours’ in the week it was hours that he didn’t have enough of already. Hours where he could do something fun with his son. The last thing he wanted to do was argue with Hikaru’s mother over having him over longer because he knew that whatever he said, she wouldn’t budge.

There were only a few swimming classes left and Bakugou was hoping for a miracle to happen. But for that to happen, Hikaru actually had to go to school.

“I ain’t asking again buddy. Get your ass out of bed!”

The boy groaned and slid out of his bed onto the floor. As he laid in front of his dad’s feet he pointed at him.

“If I drown it’s your fault.”

With his feet, he dragged his body across the floor and slid himself into the bathroom.

Bakugou shook his head and looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Getting him out of bed was taking him longer than he anticipated. They would probably have to eat breakfast on the way at this rate.

“Oh, and by the way; Miss Uraraka said she wanted to have a chat with you again,” Hikaru yelled from the bathroom.

Looks like they had to skip breakfast altogether. That’s so like the brat to just tell him about important matters last minute. Bakugou could barely count the number of times he had been late to a meeting or a student and parent event at school. He had found so many scrunched up forms he had to fill out weeks ago when cleaning Hikaru’s room one day he could put a whole-spread magazine together. But all of those matters he managed to fix.

Making a good impression was something he couldn’t.

Suddenly, the dress shirt he had ironed was not straightened enough. Not only that but the color seemed off. Why did he even buy it, that color didn’t suit him at all? He could try to look for another one, even though he didn’t have enough time since he only just realized he hadn’t washed his hair this morning.

It was going to be that kind of morning, wasn’t it?

Bakugou walked over to the bathroom and bonked on the door.

“The dentist said to brush your teeth for 2 minutes, not 15, hurry up and get out.” He yelled through to the door.

“I haven’t even been in here for 15 minutes dad!”

The father groaned and opened the door and saw his son still lying on the floor. Two red eyes stared at Bakugou as he casually chewed on his toothbrush.

“For the love of fucking…”

Hikaru took the toothbrush out of his mouth and turned on his stomach. “Quarter in the swear jar!”

Bakugou slid his hands across his stubbly cheeks. “That quarter is going to be from your allowance if you don’t start getting dressed in three…two…”

The boy shot up, threw his brush in the sink and ran back into his bedroom.

The father was already more than done with the morning when he realized that the only way he could keep them from being late to school was to follow Hikaru around and scold him. Guaranteed if he didn’t keep his eye on the brat he would crawl back to bed.

That also meant he had to try to make the best with what he had going on right now.

Maybe the color of the dress shirt wasn’t that bad. And his hair probably didn’t smell as bad as he thought it did.

He tried his best to avoid the bathroom mirror, knowing that if he gave himself a proper look he would debate shaving his stubble.

Bakugou stayed silent and listened to the noises coming from his son’s bedroom. Since he had put out Hikaru’s uniform the night before he didn’t have to spend ages trying to find everything and getting dressed. That was the only thing he had faith in that couldn’t go wrong.

In the meantime, Bakugou could attempt to make a decent breakfast. Something easy and not too filling. He had a couple of things in mind but the fridge was looking unexpectedly empty the last time he looked in it. There was probably only just enough to make two servings, but definitely not enough to make Hikaru’s lunch for the next day.

The father scratched his head and walked into the hall. “Hey bud, I’m going to go grocery shopping later today, is there anything you want?”

No response came from the room.

Bakugou stopped walking.

The noises had become silent, he only now noticed.

“Hikaru?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

The kid walked out wearing his winter uniform and went to stand before his dad with a big toothy grin on his face.

“What the hell are you wearing?!”

“That’s another quarter! And since I’m definitely, one hundred percent, super ill, I thought it would be smart to wear this.”

“You’re usually too hot when you’re ill so you’re not making any sense.”

“Hey! I’m a special kind of ill!”

Bakugou wanted to stay stern, but he got to admit that it was sort of funny. The kid sure was creative. He spun his finger around, demanding him to turn around and pushed him back into his bedroom. There he waited in the doorpost and waited for him to get dressed in the right uniform.

Leftovers from the night before for breakfast it was then.

When his son was finished dressing they walked downstairs to the kitchen together. As the boy tried to put his complicated hairdo into place at the dinner table Bakugou heated up yesterday’s dinner. Between checking the microwave’s timer and the clock he tried to help his son, knowing how hard it was to tame such a hairdo.

The second the sound of the microwave went off he opened the door and put the serving in front of Hikaru, to then dash into his own bedroom.

When he saw the dress shirt on the ironing board he couldn’t help but cringe a little. For a second he doubted everything again and considered diving into his closet again. But they were going to be at least a couple of minutes late already they way things have been going this morning. He didn’t fancy getting another speed ticket so as he ignored the mirror he put on the Bordeaux dress shirt along with his charcoal pants. Added a tie with a color that matched his pants.

With quick strokes he went through his hair, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth.

How come it was easier to get Hikaru’s hair in place than his own, though they had the same hairstyle?

No matter how many times he went through his hair it would not sit right. Especially this stubborn strand hanging right in between his eyes. He blew air up against the strand and cursed at it before letting it be, hoping that it wasn’t too noticeable.

Bakugou added a final touch to his look by pinning his tie down and adding a watch before stepping out of his room. He smiled as he saw that his son was already done with breakfast. He stood waiting for him next to the table with his schoolbag in his hand. It looked like the little guy had decided to stop giving him such a hard time.

The father quickly went to put on his shoes in the hallway and fetched his car keys out of the key bowl. With a hand already on the doorknob, he called his son over.

“You still have to put two quarters in the swear jar!”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “I’ll do that after I get home from the store.”

Hikaru walked up to him. “No, that’s not fair, I can’t see you do it then! What if you don’t put anything in?”

The boy raised his eyebrows at his father who glared down at him.

“If you really want to be sure you can count the quarters.” Bakugou opened the door and set one foot out of the house.

Behind him, he heard tiny steps reverting from him. “No way! I’m not going until you put the quarters in.”

The steps reverted fasted and when Bakugou turned around he just caught Hikaru disappearing around the corner back into the living room.

Oh, the kid was in for it now. He now had it up to here with his stalling. It almost seemed like a better idea to let him stay in bed because doing this every Thursday was an impossible task. Bakugou strutted into the living room and saw his son leaning against the kitchen island.

“Get over here!”

The kid stuck his nose in the air and shook his head. When his father began to approach him, he slid his back to the other side of the island.

“Two quarters!” he sang.

Before Bakugou knew it, he was chasing his son around the house. Trying to get a hold of a kid who got more and more energized when seeing the fun in it. He made his father jump over couches and crawl under the kitchen table, laughed whilst doing it whilst Bakugou was tried to keep himself from yelling and spouting out every curse word under the blooming sun.

A picture frame fell over, a pushed over chair left a nasty skid mark on the wooden floor. The house slowly got messier than when Hikaru had a friend over, making Bakugou even more frustrated since the last thing he wanted to do today was clean the house.

Eventually, he got a hold of the collar of his son. He tugged him back and picked him up. Placed him right under his arm. Then he walked over to the kitchen and looked for some change lying around in on of the cupboards. Picked out two quarters out of the mess and put them in the swear jar as he walked to the front door.

Bakugou stepped out of the house, still holding his son under his arm who had tried to come out from under his grip but had started to settle down. When he unlocked the car he put Hikaru down and opened the door for him. Together they got in and in silence, Bakugou drove out of the driveway.

In his review mirror, he glowered at Hikaru who quite obviously tried to ignore his gaze, almost smooshing his nose against the car window when staring at the road he had seen a million times before.

“Bakugou Hikaru, are you out of your God damn mind?!” Bakugou ended the dreadful silence.

“I am not here to play games with you every Thursday. I don’t know what it is with you and that stupid swimming class but whatever it is, face it buddy; you’re going to have to swim. If you’re insecure about not being able to swim well or just don’t feel like swimming, just say so and we can talk about it!”

Bakugou grip tightened around the steering wheel. “But I am not, I repeat, not, dragging you out of bed and chasing after anymore. Do you understand that?”

He finally made eye contact with his son and softened his eyes when he did. He hated putting his ‘strict parent’ voice up with him, but even he had to know he was stepping out of line. And Hikaru did feel remorse, as he nodded Bakugou could hear a soft-spoken apology coming from under his breath.

“If you keep missing classes you’ll have to do the program. Whatever you got going on, you would be worse off if you have to be in the program. You don’t want that right?”

“I guess.” Hikaru sighed.

With a slightly less heavy heart, Bakugou drove to school, going a little over the speed limit every now and then. He managed to pull up in front of the school only an impressive five minutes late because of that. When he turned the engine off he hurried Hikaru to get out the car and rush to the front porch. Bakugou caught up with him after locking his car and did some last adjustments to his tie and his hair.

“Hey, dad?” Hikaru asked when the walked into the school.

“Hm?”

“I don’t know but don’t you think that color looks weird on you?”

He knew it. This was the last time he trusted those stupid men’s fashion magazines laying around at his folk’s house. Who were they to say what was ‘alluring’ and ‘inviting’. What did they even base that on? You couldn’t convince him there was some science behind it. Even when he asked his dad, who has been a fashion designer for years, about fashion trends and that stupid jazz he couldn’t even properly explain what they were based on.

Gut feeling over stupid magazines next time.

Or he could probably take his own kid’s advice since he apparently had an eye for it now.

But there was no time to overthink everything now.  Greeting someone with a bunch of folds between your brow wasn’t exactly ‘alluring’ and ‘inviting’ either.

When they approached the changing rooms he thought to himself to put on a smile. Which used to be hard at first since the corners of his mouth rarely twitched upwards. But there were a couple of things that made it easier for him. A familiar voice, a familiar face, a simple gesture.

Hikaru’s swimming teacher crouched down and waved at the two boys. The boy smiled widely and ran up to her.

“There you are! Ready to dive in today?”

Hikaru put his fists on his hips and stood up straight. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The teacher raised her fist and smiled. “That’s the spirit!”

She stood up straight and stuck a hand out to Bakugou.

“I am so sorry we’re late Ms. Uraraka, believe it or not, this guy was far from ready this morning.” Bakugou joked as he shook her hand.

“Oh that’s alright Mister Bakugou, it’s only five minutes-”

“Usually you would shout at us if we stay in the changing room for five minutes too long.” Hikaru thought out loud.

The swimming teacher laughed over her students mumbling and pointed to her office.

“Shall we get started then? The sooner we’re done the sooner you can go to Ms. Yaoyoruzou and the others and get in the pool.”

“Alright!”

Hikaru pushed past the two adults and ran into the office.

“He really doesn’t lack the spirit.” Uraraka chuckled.

Bakugou let out a chuckle as well. God, did it sound strange. He barely sounded like himself there. He never did chuckle, to begin with. It wasn’t even like she said anything that funny, so why did his stomach decide; ‘this is a great time to push some air out of ya!’?

Again, he was overthinking, unnecessarily overthinking. He couldn’t be spacing out whilst this woman was trying her hardest to make the best out of a bad situation. Not only was it hard enough for her to teach his hopeless case of a son how to swim a few laps, but she had to essentially keep him in check too. There was no way in hell anyone could be able to convince him that Hikaru didn’t misbehave in class at least once. Seen as he tried so hard to get out of the class, he didn’t even want to think about how bad he could be when he was actually forced to go to the class.

The teacher seemed to have an incredible amount of patience which he wished he could take over from her every now and then. Besides dealing with Hikaru she had to deal with Bakugou too. With his tardiness and his inflexibility when it came to the summer training program. Most of the teachers would’ve lost their mind with those two a long time ago. But she stayed kind to their chaotic asses.

The woman was truly made for the job. It’s an actual shame she was only an intern. The school would be out of the damn minds if they didn’t offer her a job as soon as her internship was over. He might have to join in with Hikaru’s plan to write a threatening letter to the principal. Just write it in crayon and no one will suspect a thing right?

The thought of it made Bakugou laugh in himself and Uraraka turned to check on him. The only thing he could do was stare back at her whilst rapidly thinking of how to explain himself.

So much for not spacing out.

The teacher didn’t ask for an explanation though, most likely didn’t even want one in the first place and just contently smiled back at him.

Did they forget to turn the AC on again?

Quickly he walked over to his son who squinted at him up until he sat down next to him.

“You look super sweaty dad,” Hikaru mumbled.

“It’s not my fault your school doesn’t know when to put the-”

Hikaru continued talking as if his father wasn’t. “Like, even with the AC on you’re-”

“It’s not on.” Bakugou snarled.

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

“It is!”

Bakugou kicked his son’s chair when Uraraka sat herself down opposite them.

She crossed her legs, folded her hands and leaned a bit forward.

“First of all, thank you for coming Mr. Bakugou. I’m glad you were able to make it. I assumed it was on short notice again?” Uraraka jutted her chin out in Hikaru’s direction.

Bakugou dried his palms on his pants. “Unfortunately yes, but luckily I had the day off.”

“Oh, are you always off on Thursday’s, I didn’t know?” The teacher asked.

“I’m supposed to be but the office tends to call me in anyway, seems like there’s always something going wrong then. Looks like they can’t function a day without me.”

Uraraka laughed. “You don’t say?”

Hikaru frowned and his eyes went from his teacher to his father as they kept laughing and rambling on. He let out a deep sigh which silenced the adults and made them collect themselves.

“As I was saying; thank you. Now I wanted to talk about Hikaru’s progress in the swimming class. I know we had many talks about this before, especially regarding the fact that there’s a high chance he could be put in the additional training program.”

Bakugou nodded.

“Well, I’m happy to inform you that it might not be the case anymore!” Uraraka beamed.

“What?!” Both the Bakugou’s said in surprise.

The two shared a look before focusing back on the swimming teacher who looked over the moon to be telling the news.

“I was shocked too! Last week Hikaru suddenly put in a shift and he did better than I could ever imagine. He was even close to setting some new records. I don’t know if you practiced outside of school, if you talked to him or if a miracle happened overnight. Whatever it was, it was enough reason for me to not put Hikaru in the training program.”

Bakugou’s jaw was slightly dropped and he checked on his son, expecting him to look back to him with a smug smile on his face.

“B-but, I wasn’t even trying! How could I have almost broken records if I didn’t try!” Hikaru stammered all of a sudden.

Now Uraraka was confused as well.

None of the people in the room had any idea what had been going on. The look on Uraraka’s face gradually turned sour as Hikaru kept trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Bakugou wished he could explain the current situation because he sensed that her patience was finally going to run out. But if the kid barely understood what was going on himself, how could he cover for them?

“Excuse me? Are you telling me you have not taken my classes seriously?” Uraraka asked sternly.

The woman’s cheeks were getting more flushed and her eyes had an intense gleam in them.

When was someone going to turn the damn AC on?

“Hikaru, answer her,” Bakugou demanded as he wiped his palms dry on his pants again.

The boy groaned and slouched down in his chair, to then shot up and raise his voice.

“Of course I haven’t been taking it seriously! If I would have, I would’ve set new unbeatable records four classes in! Dad, did you seriously think that I wouldn’t be able to be good at swimming? Have you seen the sports trophies in the display cabinet?”

“This is no time to be boasting kid!”

Bakugou turned to check on the teacher who couldn’t keep her mean face on. Her eyes were cast low and she blinked at her fingers that were fumbling themselves into knots.

“I should’ve noticed, I should’ve figured this out weeks ago.” She muttered.

“Here I was thinking that you lacked skill, meanwhile things were way too easy for you. And still, I can’t figure out why-”

Hikaru stood up from his chair, just as aggravated as his father, shared the same look on his face. He walked a circle around his chair and then pointed at the both of them.

“Because I wanted to get in the summer program! So you two airheads could keep seeing each other. So I could see my dad’s dopey face whenever he drops me off. So I could hear you do that weird snort-laugh whenever dad tries to act all cool in front of you.”

The boy panted as he let out all his frustration and picked up his school bag.

“Now can I go to class?”

“Mhm.” Uraraka hummed in a high pitch.

And like that he left the two in the office. Both stunned, still trying to process what they have just been told. Bakugou then coughed and shifted awkwardly in his chair. He could feel that his armpits where drenched and wondered how he didn’t slide right off the chair.

Though he tried with everything fiber in his being to avoid Uraraka’s eyes he couldn’t help but peek at her. Looks like she was also wondering why no one had put the AC on. Her face looked damp and her bangs were sticking to her forehead.

She was the first one to say a word. As a teacher, she probably felt responsible for making sure the meeting went back on track. But she was still busy with making herself comfortable again, wiggling around in her chair and fixing her bangs by combing her fingers through them.

Bakugou decided to give her space to fumble like that, knowing that he couldn’t find the right words to fix the situation either. He kept wondering about how they got there in the first place.

How was it that obvious?

So obvious that a nine-year-old could see that his dad might have a little crush on his swimming teacher.

Even now he still felt too embarrassed to give in to his feelings, though there were so quite clearly there. From the moment he first shook hands with her.

He felt like he had taken the age of his son. So childlike he felt like when he saw her. Hopelessly blushing whenever he saw her perfectly framed face. Stammering whenever she would compliment him on his parenting or a tie he was wearing. Boasting to stand out in the sea of other dad’s she had met already.

It was strange since he hadn’t felt this way in months. It was even stranger because this crush was based on teacher-parent meetings, some small talk, and her cute face. But somehow that was enough to make his body and his brain malfunction every time he was in the same space as her.

Bakugou would be lying if he hadn’t thought once about how appropriate it really was for a parent and a teacher to be involved with each other. It was not something that came to mind itself. It was through a conversation he heard on the metro, or maybe it was on the office’s parking lot. A topic that he wouldn’t usually think twice about suddenly became interesting. Suddenly the opinions of strangers mattered to him and felt like he had to make up his mind about the matter as well.

Undoubtedly Uraraka came to mind and he was quick to think that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Especially since they were roughly the same age. She seemed to have a soft spot for his son. And he was pretty sure Uraraka was Hikaru’s favorite teacher by a mile as well.

And it was not like he would put their romance on display on school grounds, which was probably the most worrying thing when it came to that debate.

Just a simple smile and a ‘see you later’, that’s all.

Those were a lot of self-set rules considering if he didn’t even know if the feelings were mutual.

“Is my laugh really that weird?” Uraraka muttered.

“Kind of. But I like it.”

Bakugou rubbed his chin. “Does my face really look that stupid all the time?”

“No, not at all. It’s actually very pleasant to look at.”’

Finally, she dared to look him in the eye.

Who was he kidding? With that look she was giving him right now he couldn’t deny the possibility of mutual feelings anymore. He had only seen that certain look in a woman’s eye twice before. That certain look was what got him married and ended him up with a son.

“So, you’re free on Thursdays you said?”

[ultraviolettae]

Hi! In your masterlist it says that we can request drabbles and povs from any of the stories. I´m really curious about the first time Taehyung and mc met, since she just appeared inside his house out of nowhere. Thank you in advance if you actually write it !

Okay so, this is the first ever draft I ever wrote for Void and I think I even posted it on here but deleted it very quickly. There are some sentences I´ve included in the other version because I didn´t want to delete this first try of writing the first chapter, so sorry if some bits sound familiar. Also here the mc has a motorbike and stuff but let´s just say she sold it because I discarded the idea of her needing those things after thinking about it.

Anyway, I hope this 4k of nonsense does the job (?) Idk but here´s how they met:

I run my hands through the wet locks of hair making sure every bit of themis covered in shampoo and I relax as I rinse the excess with warm water. Oncemy hair is washed I hug my knees seeking to increase my body temperature, butthe position makes it impossible for the water to reach past my waist, so I layon my back again. Staring at the cracked ceiling, I hum to an old song tryingto avoid my thoughts. The sound of liquid in movement fills the room as I turninside the bathtub to face the door, and I close my eyes. What if I stayed hereforever? I know it´s not a possibility I should even consider, and I reprimandmyself for it. Only thirty minutes left.

I walk towards the fridge with just a towel wrapped around my body, and Ifrown in disappointment when I open it. There´s nothing inside and my stomachtwists in both hunger and frustration. I give up after finding out the freezeris just as empty, and I close it with strength that isn´t needed for completingsuch a simple task. Twenty minutes.

The wet piece of fabric falls to the floor and I nonchalantly walk towardsmy clothes, the silhouette of my body barely reflecting on the window in frontof me. While I fasten my bra and zip up my jeans I think about how I´ve grownfond of nudity in the past few months. I come to the conclusion that solitudehas made me careless about things I used to be ashamed of. Ten minutes.

I roam around the house collecting my belongings and making sure everythingis in the place where it´s expected to be, paying attention to every detail andevery possible mistake that could turn into a hint of my stay. Five minutes.

The last thing I do is drink a glass of water and lace my shoes, my heartracing a bit. As many times as I´ve done this before, it still gets on mynerves sometimes and I have to breathe deeply to calm myself. Time´s up.

In the distance, I observe the arrival of a black car, the lights pointingin the opposite direction as to where I´m standing.  A young couple exitsit, the same people I had seen in pictures all around the house now standingfive mere meters away from me. He lines their suitcases in the entrance whileshe keeps the vehicle in the garage. The door is unlocked by its correspondentkey and no suspicion, no concern, no fear appears on their faces. I exhaleheavily, freeing all the air I was holding.

Once again, I have occupied a house without any consequences, and I can´tsay I feel proud of it. I knew from the start what I was getting into and,after all, I chose this lifestyle, so I tell myself to stop feeling guiltyabout it. My eyes drift over the door one last time as I place my helmet overmy head but I obey myself to look away and my stare focuses on looking to thesides instead, acknowledging the traffic rules for once in my life. The roar ofmy motorbike is the only thing audible as I enter the main road. There aren´tmany cars around me, which I´m thankful for. As I drive, I keep repeating in myhead that this is how it works: no attachments, no looking back. I can´t affordsuch feelings.

But at least, it´s good that I know where I´m headed to, to know there isanother place waiting for me.

It´s the first rule I follow, the next target always has to be less than anhour away from the previous one. It makes the rides short, and it reassures methat I can always go back if needed to.

Every place is a step further away from where I´m escaping from, andsometimes the thought makes me feel relieved. Others, it scares me. It´s onlybeen five months and although I´m certain I don´t want to go back, sometimes Imiss having a home.

A home. Back there, it didn´t feel like that at all, and I wonder if I knowthe true meaning of the word, or what it feels like at all. I speed up to passan orange light, the sudden incensement of the cold air reddening my cheeks. Ifeel frustrated with myself and as always, I try to push it away. If I feelthis way, it´s probably because I deserve it. Again, I tell myself that I chosethis, and that I should just deal with it without overthinking too much.

It takes me a while to find the city outskirts as the entire row of houseslooks exactly the same as the one I had just seen minutes ago, but I finallyrecall the route and as I park my vehicle I doubt if choosing this place was agood idea. Half of the street lights don´t work and the electric laying is allover the place, but as I walk in the emptiness of the night I force myself tonot feel intimidated. I´m searching for one and only one thing: red flyers.They advertise a new home appliance’s shop, which, obviously, only exits in myimagination.

It´s an easy way to do it: a few days in advance I place them in themailboxes, adjusting them in a position in which they are only half visible forthe average passerby. And now, the ones that have not been removed betray theowners: it means the house is empty.

Most of them are gone, and some of them are on the floor. As I reach theend of the street, I spot one of the red papers still inside the mailbox,proudly standing out in the dark. I hurriedly walk towards it, making surenobody is aware of my presence. I display my toolbox on the floor, next to me.And then, I proceed.

A slight move of the wrist to the right and then rolling it twice in theother direction, the precision and stealth of an expert. An almost silent clickand a small performance with the screwdriver. That is all it takes to disassemblea lock without damaging any parts of it. Fast, straightforward and never failsto work.

I make sure no one has seen me and I slip past the gate, closing it behindme. There is a small garden that leads to the actual house, and I run towardsthe main door like a furtive animal. With the moon being the only source oflight it takes me a few more minutes than expected to maneuver, but it finallygives in and I step in, not sure about what I´m going to be met with.

My hands feel the walls searching for a light switch, and when I notice oneunder my touch, I press it. I sigh in relief, thankful for everything beingvisible again.

So far, the place isn´t very nice. There isn´t much furniture and the scentis overwhelming, as if whoever lives here doesn´t clean too often. From whereI´m standing, I can count four rooms: a kitchen, a bathroom, a small lounge anda bedroom. I want to investigate more, but before I let my curiosity outweigheverything else a telephone placed on a small coffee table reminds me of myduties.

The second rule: make sure that I know where the owners are going toreturn.

I approach it and press the tiny red button, a deep voice emerging from thespeaker.

“Hi, this is Kim Taehyung. I´m on a business trip right now. If you needsomething, feel free to leave a message”

His voice sounds intermittent, as if whoever had recorded the messageneeded to carefully measure his words, but I decide to ignore. I hear a loudbeep and I immediately hang up. He´s gone – the man who lives here – and that´senough. The message had been recorded twelve hours ago. It means I´ll be ableto stay for a whole week.

That has to be the longest period of time ever gifted to me to stop over astranger´s house. A new record that overcomes those five days I stayed in anabandoned cottage. The idea itself is exciting, but I try to contain myemotions as I repeat to myself that no matter for how long, I´m just passingby.

My stomach growls and I head to the kitchen. It´s small and there´s onlyone chair alongside the table, which means its only one person who lives here.Kim Taehyung. That is how he had called himself.

There´s no refrigerator, so I open a drawer instead, tapping my footagainst the floor. I find a package of noodles, and I smile. As always, isbetter than nothing. I also find a pan and I turn the stove on, waiting for itto heat up.

While the noodles go from raw to eatable, I observe the place. The wallpaper has clearly been too exposed to the sun, losing its original color, andall the items in the house look cheap and overused. Still, there´s a cozyfeeling to it, a feeling I´d like to remember in the future.

That leads to the third rule and, perhaps, my favorite out of all of them:keep visual track of everything.

I grab my bag and extract one of the only two objects apart from my toolboxthat I carry in it: a camera. Getting rid of my shoes, I turn the machine onwhile I walk barefoot against the wooden floor. First, I take some pictures ofthe different rooms and then, extending an arm and adjusting the lens so thatboth my face and the different items I encounter appear in the frame I pressthe small silver button repeatedly until I have as many pictures as I want to.I stare at them, a smile on my face with as much oddity as expected of thegesture, a false joy reflecting in my strange actions.

The noodles are ready. They are slightly burnt and don´t have much taste,but I eat them anyway. I still find it weird to have meals alone, and I justkeep stuffing my mouth to stop the urge of talking to myself.

Then, a hollow sound reaches my ears. At first, I blame my imagination.Maybe I am talking to myself after all. But then, I hear it loud and clear.Someone is pulling up in the front door. I freeze in place, the fork I washolding now laying on the floor.

It can´t happen. It has never happened and it´s not going to happen now. Itjust can´t. With how careful I have always been, always aware of the risks, mybody doesn´t know how to react. At the realization of what is happening, I retreatin the sofa like a hopeless puppy. There are no more doors and I´m only able tolocate one window, too small to jump through it. I think about hiding, but it´stoo late. A tall man is standing in the lounge, still oblivious to my presencebut already furrowing his brows at my shoes. They clearly aren´t his. The samedeep voice that had come out of the phone fifteen minutes ago is the only thingaudible along with the increasing banging of my heart.

 “The trip was cancelled. Yeah, I know. We waited at the airport forabout five hours. My back hurts a lot”

And then, his eyes meet mine. I jump out of my sitting position and I staystill, too astonished to move. His mouth hangs open and I can tell he´s not pleasedwith the sight, not that he should be.

“I´ll call you later”

Someone´s words are muffled as his phone hangs stoic in the air, and hefinally hangs up. There´s a heavy silence between us, not leaving room foranything else. I want to say something, but in a way, I´m shocked too. It´s myfirst human interaction in a long time and my eyes can´t seem to leave his.

For some reason I feel exposed under his stare, and I don´t think it´sbecause I´m an intruder. His fringe falls over his eyes and finally, after whatfeels like forever, he clears his throat and talks. What he says it´s not whatI expected.

“Do I know you?”

He sounds distant, but comforting. I might look desperate to him, becausehe just stands there as if the possibility of me attacking him hadn´t evencrossed his mind. My mind has gone blank, and I can´t barely mutter an answer.

“No”

My voice sounds strange, even I find oddity in it. It´s weak and denotingjust as much nervousness as I´m feeling.

“Okay. Do you know me?”

He´s acting too calmed for the scenario playing between us, but maybe he´sjust being cautious. I observe his under eye circles and I guess he´s just assleep deprived as I am. I want to grab my things and go, but I don´t know how.His eyes bore into my camera and an undecipherable expression appears in hisface, his slender fingers wrapping around it.

I know he´s going through my gallery and I lean forward by natural reflex,coming closer to him. He smells nice, as if he had just showered, and I try toignore the way it makes me feel slightly dizzy. I can now see what he´s seeingand I swallow thickly.

Pictures of all the houses I´ve been to. He puts two and two together, and,suddenly, he doesn´t look as comfortable with my presence. I expectantly waitfor his reaction, but my eyes dart to the floor.

A pang of pity and self-hatred swipes over me, and I ball my fists tryingto retain whatever emotion is taking over me.

“You´ve broken into my house”

The way he says it makes my insides turn, and the urge to run away isbigger than ever. Self consciousness at the realization of what I´ve beendoing, that is all it is. I stare at him with doe eyes and parted lips. I knowthat if I have to beg, I will.

“Please don´t call the cops”

It sounds way more desperate than I intended, but I choose to ignore it. Helooks at me and it makes my accelerated heart stop dead in its tracks.

“Why not? It´s what I should be doing”

I don´t know. I can´t think of any reasons about why he shouldn´t, and Ibreak down. I break down in front of a stranger, and the hectic moment makes mecareless about it.

“I don´t have anywhere to go”

My voice cracks in the middle of the sentence and I know the words I´vechosen are not enough. They´ll never be, but they seem to have an impact onhim.

Then, a smart move. He extracts a tiny object from the back of my camera.After that, it takes him a while to speak again.

“This is your memory card. I- I don´t want to hurt you, but you have tounderstand you can´t just come in here and do whatever you want. Gosh, are youeven eighteen?”

He looks at me and I furrow my brows, but I submit and answer, even thoughI don´t want to give away anything about me.

“I´m older than that”

The palms of his hands are sweaty, and I feel bad for him. He probablydoesn´t know what to do and still, he´s being nice to me.

“I haven´t stolen anything”

I know it´s something he´s meaning to ask, so I just clarify it out of theblue. The tension on his shoulders decreases and I link my arms behind my backas if wanting to prove that I don´t hold anything against him.

“Well, if you are an adult, I have proof that can get you into jail. I-Ishow this to the police, all this creepy photos, and you´ll get arrested”

Getting arrested is not an option, and a shiver goes down my spine. If onlyI could make him understand that is not even a possibility for me.

“But I won´t do it”

The words are said with bluntness but there´s something behind them,something he doesn´t want to show. He´s pitying me and, although I´m gratefulfor what he´s doing, I hate him for it. I don´t want to admit that I needcompassion.

“Why?”

He keeps the memory card in one of his pockets and I follow him with myeyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose and alternates between opening andclosing his mouth, as if he´s not sure about what to say.

“Because, you remind me of someone I know. Too much. And it looks likewhatever has brought you here – what got you into this ” his hand pointstowards the camera, as if the object held a record about my days as a squatter “Itmust be something scary you´re running away from”

That catches me off guard, and I stare at him in disbelief, wondering howmuch of an open book I am for him. Our eyes are intertwined once again, and Iunderstand in that moment that we are communicating without speaking. He´sthinking about what to do with me, and I feel like an object in a showcase, himbeing an indecisive buyer.

“I am, and I apologize. I-I can leave. I never intended to harm anyone withthe lifestyle I follow. But please” I pause, not sure about if what I´m aboutto say is still needed “Please don´t report that I´ve been here”

He massages his temples, and at this point I don´t know what´s goingthrough his head anymore.

“How does it work?”

I blink twice, not sure about what he means. He notices and he signals forme to sit, which I do reluctantly. Him standing in front of me while I´msitting looks much more intimidating than the position we were in before.

“I´ve told you I won´t call the cops on you. But, I need you to answer allof my questions. How does this… lifestyle work?’”

I nod, making him know I understand his point, but I´m not sure about howto answer. I opt for the truth.

“I-It´s simple. I just search for empty houses, and I stay in them for aslong as I can. I don´t steal anything; maybe grab some food or a new T-shirt.But I always do something in return: cleaning, doing the laundry, watering theplants. Or it can be fixing something. I-I haven´t done anything of it here,yet”

He sits next to me, and I flinch even though he still keeps his distance.His kindness is imposing, and I still can´t believe that I´m not in a car in myway to the police station.

“So you´re good at fixing things”

His arms are crossed vaguely, resting on his lap as he leans forward to seemy face, which I try to cover with my hair by staring at the floor.

“I guess so”

I put a strand behind my ear, finally connecting my stare with his. Thistime is different, he´s looking at me as if I´m not a threat anymore and forsome reason I don´t categorize it as something positive.

“Then fix this”

He rolls up his sleeve and removes a watch from his wrist, the silver bandshiny against his skin. As he hands it to me and I grab it, we touch for thefirst time. His hand is warm, the warmest thing I´ve felt in a long time, andanother shiver goes down my spine.

But now that I have something solid to focus on, something I can do withouttalking, I quickly grab my toolbox and start dismantling the small object. Ifeel like I´m at school again, going through a test under someone´s judgingstare.

At first I think the battery has just died at some point, but then I seeit: one of the gears has slightly moved to the side. My finger pushes the tinypiece, pressing it against the top one. It all fits in now and I stare at it inawe before giving it back to him. He extends and arm and lifts his eyebrowsand, for the first time, he smiles at me.

It´s an inviting gesture, honest and maybe even a bit playful, somethingI´m not used to. I limit myself to fasten the now ticking watch, and I noticehis hand staying in mine a few seconds more than it should, as if he´s testingsomething.

I blush, and I hope he doesn´t see it.

“Are you scared of me?”

Again, his question startles me. He should be the one being scared, and Itell him so.

“I definitely should be. It´s not nice to come home to a stranger eatingyour noodles. Unless if it´s a stranger like you”

My blushing increases at the mention of the dinner I had made in a rush andI tilt my head as I start sorting out the tools I´ve used, ignoring what he hasjust said.

“What´s your name?”

I don´t know why he´s interested, and I´m still not quite sure if he´sbeing nice to get information out of me or if it´s just in his nature, but Ianswer anyway. I have to.

Then he extends his arm again, and I can´t believe he´s introducing himselfin a moment like this, but I grab it and he shakes it a little. Again, I findhis warmness overwhelming.

“I´m Kim Taehyung”

He makes me stand up, still holding my hand as if he is a doctor and I´m apatient who isn´t able to walk properly, guiding me to the kitchen. The plateof noodles is still standing there, cold and lifeless.

I watch him open a drawer and grab a fork, and then, he sits and startseating. I open my mouth, surprised at how he´s acting because it doesn´t makeany sense to me. Maybe I have stumbled upon someone with a double personality,maybe I was the one to be freaked out.

“You make some pretty good noodles. I´m keeping you”

My eyes widen and I feel like I´m going to pass out at any moment. Ifantasize about the idea, about how I´d rather be unconscious on the floor thantrying to process what he has said.

“You are keeping me?”

He grabs a napkin and swipes it over his lips, and I stare at how pinkthey´ve turned in just a few seconds.

“Listen. I don´t have much to offer. I live for my job and my job allows meto live. It´s not very exciting. With the years, I´ve become friends withisolation. And, coming home and… and seeing someone here, it made me realizehow desperate I am for some company” I listen to him, his eyes fixated in thenothingness and mine on his face. “Once, I was homeless too, and even now thatI have an actual house, it still feels empty. I don´t want anyone else to feelthat way”

His words make my heart sink. I want to tell him that I have a place to goback to if I want to, that pain has just made me whimsical, but I don´t. He´seyeing me with something I recognize very well: insecurity.

“ It´s not an offer. You are staying here, at least for tonight. I can´tlive with myself knowing you´ll be sleeping on the streets or something worse”

I want to tell him that I can occupy another house, but again, I don´t. Ithink about the idea and I don´t think about it at all. He´s a stranger, but Ifind comfort in the way he speaks to me, more than I´ve ever felt with peopleI´ve known longer. He needs company, and I may be starting to admit that I needit to.

“Okay. I´ll stay”

He smiles, and I return the gesture. We don´t speak for a while, and it´sdifficult for me to distinguish if I´m dreaming or if it´s all real. I tellmyself that it´s just another place, that the fact that there is someone elsewith me doesn´t matter. It´s temporary, something  spontaneous. A part ofme is scared, but I suppress it harshly. After all, I have nothing to lose.

[artlessictoan]

ICTOAN’s Big ol’ Planned Fic Masterlist:

I’ve been meaning to do this for a while, but now’s as good a time as any, so; here’s a list of all the fics I’m currently working on and plan to write in the future! (I’ll keep this list updated any time I finish/start/think up something new and there’ll be a link to this page in my blog header)

I’m hoping that getting myself and other people excited for my planned fics will encourage me to crack on and finish my WIPs

Current WIPs:

Here are all the fics I am currently working on, I’m still trying to find a balance where I can update more regularly without sacrificing quality, I don’t know if I’d be able to work on more than 3-4 fics at a time, but I will probably be experimenting with having five or six on the go at some point – I do tend to get easily distracted and having more fics I can bounce between might actually be easier for me

Like Smoke into the Sand – 50% complete

Breaking the Cycle – N/A (no set plot or plan)

Nice to Meet You – N/A (oneshot collection)

The Fearful Unknown – 25% complete

Heliotropism – 20% complete (very rough guess)

False Starts – On hold until I figure out my.. Feelings on this one

(note that these are rough estimates and I have been known to extend a fic’s planned length by a couple of chapters before, so take these percentages with a grain of salt)

---

Planned Multi-Chap Fics:

My ideas for future fics (in order of when I will most likely start them), they’re mostly still in early stages of development and everything here can and probably will change by the time they actually come out

Next in the Gem AU –

·        Sequel(s) to ATFC

·        Pairings: NaruGaa, NaruHina, HinaGaa, NaruHinaGaa, SakuTema, SakuTemaTen, KakaIru, KankuKiba, InoShikaCho

·        Follows directly off of ATFC, the second act of the overarching LTL plot, will be similar to ATFC but more action and plot oriented

·        There will also be a third fic to follow, along with a few spin-off oneshots/collections

False Starts – 

·        Kase-san fic

·        Pairings: KaseYama, Aroace!Mikawa, maybe others

·        AU setting, the girls never met at school and thus led very different lives, Kase went on to become a star sprinter, but, with her entire life revolving around athletics, as she grows older and her star fades, she finds herself lacking motivation and teetering on the edge of depression, meanwhile Yamada has done exactly what was always expected of her, going to a local college, taking a course she liked but didn’t love and eventually becoming a teacher, never realising the option to follow her passion was even available

·        Story follows Kase as she’s forced into a long-term ‘vacation’ back to her hometown to rehabilitate and rediscover her drive, while there she meets Yamada and they strike up a friendship and eventual romance, helping each other find out what kind of life they really want to live and realising that it’s not too late to try

·         Mid-to-long fic, mostly fluffy, slice-of-life romance, but with exploration of things like depression and mid-life crises, the girls will be about 32-34 in this, possibly a little older

Liquor Bottles and Ukuleles –

·        Pairings: ChoGaa, ShikaTema, SakuKarui, InoTen, ex-LeeGaa, ex-ChoKarui, Aro!Kank

·        Long-ish fic, college AU, Chouji is a happy but lonely student, who has accepted that he’ll never meet ‘The One’, until his best friends shove a cute redhead in his direction, mostly a fluffy romance fic, though there will be some drama

·        Blind!Gaara

·        Lots of close friendships (InoShikaCho, ChoKarui, ChoOmoi, ChoKaruOmoi, InoTema, Sand Sibs)

College AU –

·        Pairings: NaruGaa, HinaMatsu, possible others

·        Short fic, each chap split into two sections, one following Naru/Gaa and one following Hina/Matsu, though they will sometimes intersect, both pairs will be getting equal billing, mostly a sweet and fluffy fic, it might (Might) have some smut (mIGHT)

Ghost Hunter AU –

·        Another series, made up of short stories following a particular character/pairing

·        Pairings: NaruGaa, SakuIno, KakaGai, TemaTen, HinaOmoiCho, ShikaShino, KankFuu, possible others

·        Each fic will be standalone, but will reference other fics in the series (first in series will likely be NaruGaa, then SakuIno), Team 7 are a gang of ghost hunters who travel the country dealing with paranormal activities, meeting all sorts of new people and strange situations along the way

YodoChou Fic –

·        Pairings: YodoChou, probable others

·        Canon-verse, next gen, I’m thinking this fic will be much more similar to the Naruto manga than my other fics with an action adventure story that has ninjas doing ninja stuff, though that doesn’t mean I’m not going to just ignore Everything that happens in Boruto, it’ll be more like the first few arcs of Naruto where the conflicts/stakes are relatively small scale and it’s more about the characters than any big world-shaking events

NaruGaa Gym AU –

·        Pairings: NaruGaa, SakuTema, probable others

·        Short fic, modern AU, Gaara is the sickly noodle boy who is roped into going to the gym with his big sis, where he meets the chipper, chubby gym-bunny Naruto, who peptalks him onto a treadmill and then laughs for ten hours when he Immediately trips over literally nothing and sprains his ankle (and then buys him a coffee to apologise), meanwhile Temari has managed to get into a weightlifting competition with buff lesbian Sakura and it all gets a bit out of hand

InoHina Modern AU – 

·        Pairings: InoHina, NaruHina (kinda), probable others

·        Based on this post

Post-college AU, Ino owns and runs a small boutique, when one day a shy, modest-looking woman comes in and starts browsing the more ‘scanty’ range, quickly picking up on her uncertainty and discomfort as she brings a miniskirt and low-cut tank top to the counter, Ino decides to help her get the guy she’s been mooning over for years (Naruto) by giving her a makeover that works with Hinata’s style, before realizing that she’s totally fallen for her somewhere along the way and now has no idea what to do about it

SakuKarui Modern AU – 

·        Continuation of this drabble

·        Pairings: SakuKarui, HinaTema, KankuShino, SaiFuu, Aro!Gaa, InoCho, NejiLee, OmoiNaru, possible others

Short fic, post-college, Karui is a struggling artist trying to make a living as a recent grad, Sakura is her loving, but delinquent, girlfriend, a med-school dropout, who somehow always manages to get into fights, both dealing with quarter life crises and trying to build a life together

Mythology AU – 

·        Pairings: TemaRui, SakuInoHina, Aro!Ten, KarinFuu, KurotsuFuu, KureKonan, Aro!Yugito, ShizuRin, KaruraKushiMei, ChiyoNade, possible others

·        Continuation of this drabble

Not entirely sure what I want to do for this, but I just really like the idea of exploring the ‘all the nart girls as goddesses of war’ idea somehow, will probably be a short drabble collection, each chap focusing on different characters/relationships, I’d like to keep this to only the girls (though some will be nb in this)

Hospital AU – 

·        Pairings: SakuTema, InoKarin, ChoGaa, KankuKiba, NaruHinaLee, Aro!Shika, ex-TemaTen, ex-NaruSaku

·        Continuation of this drabble

Short fic, real-world setting, most of the gang works at a hospital, centres on surgeon!Sakura and administrative manager!Temari’s mutual unrequited love, and the scheming of their friends who’re trying to get them both to realise how head-over-heels the other is for them, a fluffy comedy with some Sad

Sci-fi AU – 

·        Pairings: HinaMatsu, ShikaNaru, InoChoTema, LeeGaa, NejiTen, KibaRui, ShinoOmoi, KakaGai, AsuKure, Aro!Saku, Aro!Sasu

·        Continuation of this drabble

·        Long-ish fic, (light) sci-fi setting, a team of scientists from all fields is on a (likely one-way) expedition, hoping to push the boundaries of human knowledge and discover more about the galaxy and potential life outside the solar system (without disrupting it if at all possible, I’m really keen to try and keep any colonial themes out of this) sending any knowledge back to Earth to help humanity improve itself, while trapped on a ship with little to no hope of ever returning, the crew build new lives and relationships slowly develop, will probably be a slice-of-life fic with the space stuff just as a background

Will definitely have alien life, but I’m not sure if I want sentient aliens who’re as developed/more developed than humanity, I’d like to keep this to the more “realistic” end of the genre and the focus to be mainly on the crew and their friendships, but thoughts would be welcome!

Olympic Lesbian Shenanigans – ***

·         Pairings: uh, idk actually…… Every Girl x Every Other Girl?

·         Loosely based on Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

·         Short-mid length fic, modern au/period setting, a pair of girls (leaning towards Ino and Karin but could go any way at this point) end up on a multi-week cruise ship with the Konoha Ladies Olympic Team (which will somehow include any non-Konoha girls too)……. things get very Gay

·         Possibly smutty?

·         …Probably smutty

·         Purely me-pandering ngl

·         Oh god what am I doing

Spy AU –

·        Pairings: NaruGaa, InoTema, ShikaCho, HinaTen, NejiLee, possible others

·        Long fic, plot-focused action thriller, will likely end up exploring dark themes, but also I might change my mind and go for a more fun 70s spy-thriller type vibe (I’m thinking about making Gaa a trans woman in this one but I’m still kinda unsure? Feedback would be welcome)

Sand Sib Fic –

·        Possible implied NaruGaa and ShikaTema, but the focus will be on the sibs

·        Will probably be similar in style to BTC, following the sand sibs and their relationship as it changes over the years (not sure if I’ll go right from the beginning, or just from the chunin exam arc up to the end of the war arc), going into much more detail about their development since Kishi dgaf about them, especially Gaara’s struggle to change himself after the exams, how and why he got Suna to accept him, Kank and Tem and their very complex relationship with Gaara (and each other) and Gaara’s long recovery from.. y’know. death. I’ll probably diverge from canon in some places (like the Rasa/Gaa reunion during the war)

Samurai AU –

·        Pairings: NaruGaa, SakuHina, TemaTen, KibaIno, ChoKarui, possible others

·        Similar to SITS but more plot-focused, long fic, historical drama, set in Sengoku era Japan (or more likely a version of the Naruto world based heavily on it), no fantasy elements, might get dark in places, the story will mostly be focusing on Naruto, so it might be split into a series or have short spinoff fics focusing on other characters

Jinchuriki Fic –

·        No pairings planned thus far

·        Canon-divergent, after the chunin exams, instead of deciding to become Kazekage, Gaara instead wants to be for the other jinchuriki what Naruto was to him, follows the time-skip with Gaara traveling the continent and inadvertently starting a nomadic jinchuriki tribe, will probably be slice-of-life, though I might also just run with the idea and rewrite the whole Naruto plot based on this (and other) changes, for example:

·        Temari takes the position of Kazekage and her and Kankuro are taking steps to change their village for the better (they’re in regular contact with Gaara and constantly send letters to his new friends reminding them to make sure he eats)

·        Hinata and Neji are both much more active in their goal to destroy their clan’s caste system

·        Sasuke returns to Konoha earlier and him and the other rookies do their own investigating into their village’s long history of reprehensible actions

·        Cut the entire war arc. All of it.

·        Make the conflict less about big grand battles against ultimate evil mcbadguys and more about actually revolutionising the ninja world at its very core

Model AU –

·        Possible pairings: NaruGaa, probable others, it’s all very uncertain

·        ……. Look idk the idea just won’t leave me alone ok?

---

Planned Oneshots:

(Same deal as my planned multi-chaps!)

Narugaa, based on this post, Naruto trips over at a train station one day and ends up cackling uncontrollably on the floor, even as a cute redhead helps him up, the next day a friend shows him a craigslist ad from someone who helped up a laughing man at the train station and was too shy to ask his name at the time but was hoping that he was alright

Narugaa, based on this post, Naruto lives in the same apartment building as The Most Beautiful Man In The World, unfortunately they only ever cross paths when Naruto happens to have horribly embarrassed himself in some way, meanwhile The Most Beautiful Man In The World has been quietly trying to find excuses to see his cute blond neighbor, who must be really confident to not care about that giant salsa stain down the front of his shirt and wow he wished he could be so free and self-assured

Temari-centric oneshot about her strict training and life growing up

InoShikaChoTema, ot4 fluff oneshot

 ---

If there’re any fics I’ve spoken about here that you’d really love to see, then do let me know! I can push the stories with more interest to the top of my agenda, keep in mind though, that I won’t be starting anything new until I’ve at least finished ATFC (possibly SITS too) and that my more ambitious fics will require a lot of pre-production before I’m willing to start them – I spent a good six months doing research for SITS – so fics like the spy au and the samurai au will need a lot more time to get started than, say, a college au

As always, I’m open to requests and if anyone has thoughts on anything I’ve already got planned that they’d like to share, then I’m open to chatting! Almost all of these fics (apart from everything in the LTL series) are still very early in development, so things can change a little, or a lot! I reserve the right to reject ideas that I don’t feel comfortable writing/don’t fit my vision, of course, but I’m pretty opened minded about this stuff, so don’t be afraid to gimme a shout

[tokyun]

found this circling around so i figured, hey, i’m 8 feet up this franchise’s ass, so why not? LMFAO

the original post is from this lovely lass in case anyone else wants to try it out--idk how many of my followers are into slbp tho laughs

All are welcome to fill this out!!! You don’t need to be tagged to do it!!!!! @ing your friends helps get it going, but regardless please tag it #helloslbp so it’s easy to find.

1. WHAT GOT YOU INTO SLBP, AND HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THROWING MONEY AT VOLTAGE?

SLBP was kind of new and circling around in the Voltage fandom as I noticed--and I thought, “I like otome, and I also really like history, what could go wrong?” Many things went wrong, clearly, because I’ve been at it for almost a year now (which is like... a long time for me to be invested in one thing lmfao). I first downloaded it around... the end of July 2016? I was on a road trip and was Bored As Shit sometimes so I needed something to pass the time. 

I’ve been throwing money at Voltage even longer, though--I played their premium games back when all they had was Pirates In Love and My Forged Wedding back in 2012 or so. I kind of lost interest before getting back into some of their apps in... 2015-ish? Though I really only pay for some of those routes when I’ve got gift Google Play cards these days LOL Plus I’ve... just found better otome in general on other portable consoles, so there’s that, too.

2. WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTER, AND WHY? WHAT FIRST DREW YOU TO THEM?

This is actually a really hard question! I can’t really like, point to one of the main lords and say, “it’s this one, this guy’s my favorite.” I’d say I have a preference for the second set of lords over the first set, but even then, I don’t think I dislike any of the given love interests though I do have a lot of problems with Voltage’s writing lmfao.

If I had to choose... I think given the type of character I like, I actually have a big soft spot for Toshiie--and that’s also me saying that, given how much I hated his actual canon route. I have so many complaints I could write a whole essay on it (and no, it’s not just that one scene most people talk about--miss me with the love triangle bullshit, treatment of Sayuri, the fact that I didn’t feel like MC was actually that close with Toshiie at all, and Narimasa’s last minute two-bit villain act among many other things. Miss. Me. With. That. Shit.) I like him in side routes, usually--generally a very supportive friend, maybe kind of dumb but he means well, perhaps too brash for his own good, and he’s actually very caring and thoughtful? Though perhaps very overprotective at times. I like that about him--but again, I don’t think they showed any of that very well at all in his actual main story. Which is disappointing lol

In terms of enjoying the actual story and such, I think I could also give this spot to Kenshin--I was really, really surprised by how much I actually liked him and his route. When it comes to characters in positions of power that are usually rather amiable or seemingly kind, I’m always super wary--but Kenshin never hid any type of evil intent or secretly manipulative sides, and I found that kind of refreshing? Certainly he wasn’t some innocent party or anything, but he had more sides to him than I actually would’ve expected. Plus the Uesugi clan is really great--I’d read it over and over for the retainers alone, if I had to LOL

I also have... many side character loves that I can’t even begin to name, so I won’t start that laughs

3. ARE YOU STILL PLAYING THE GAME ITSELF, OR ARE YOU JUST ACTIVE IN FANDOM?

I’m very active in-game and usually check every couple of hours to stock up on skill points--those point walls can be a pain in the ass lol I just finished all the story events... rip

I’m not exactly as vocal about my SLBP stuff here on my personal, but I do run @slbpdrabbles​ on the side. All my dumbass headcanons and drabbles go over there and I’ve been blessed to have people request so much from me tbh y’all are too nice ahhhh

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE THING ABOUT THE VOLTAGE FANDOM?

There’s like, a lot of writers here I’ve noticed--which is sort of nice! I feel like there’s always a plethora of stuff to read (for the SLBP fandom, anyway). I think it’s a relatively very creative fandom as well? There’s so many AUs, headcanons, and discussions going around that I appreciate tbh

5. WHAT DO YOU WISH YOU’D SEE MORE OF IN SAMURAI LOVE BALLAD PARTY?

Better writing/plot progression/character development. Hm... Routes are kind of a big task, but I’d be happy to see more side character events or side stories? From what I know like, Nobuyuki, Keiji, and (I wanna say) Kageie have had events in Tenka--I’d like to see those brought over to SLBP. Also more ladies! I always want more ladies. LMFAO

ALSO STOP!!! USING!!! SEXUAL!!! ASSAULT!!! AS!!! A!!! REASON!!! FOR!!! DRAMA!!!

IT’S NOT CUTE!!!

6. END WITH A LITTLE ABOUT YOURSELF

Tori / 19 / Colorado 

I’ll be 20 come May, but mostly I’m just hanging around trying to save some money up before I try to go to school again--I’m thinking about going into radio tech, but for now it’s work, work, work as much as I can manage.

Currently getting back into Hakuouki as I wait for Kyoto Winds to come out. I write and RP here and there and I make a lot of OCs but I’d also love to receive an unwarranted check of $50,000,000. Girl groups are Great and Mamamoo owns this ass

I’ll tag @elantil-arcacia​ since she’s my partner in crime and AU extraordinaire in this mess of a game we love so much LMAO

[jungshookz]

cee omg you could literally write a drabble about uni!yoongi making out with yn and i would literally die

➺ pairing; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; uni!yoongiverse!! nsfw i think?? i’m not sure?? what do u call it if it’s simultaneously smut and not smut at the same time.,,. smaybe smut,,. smalmost smut,..  smerhaps smut,.,. 

➺ wordcount: 1.5k is this a baby drabble??? idk i’m counting it as a regular drabble 

➺ what to expect; “i’m going to need you to shut up now, please.”

➺ optional reading: not necessary but feel free to read some other drabbles from the uni!yoongiverse!

➺ note; this was originally a baby drabble (literally was only going to be a couple of sentences at the moST) but i got carried away so here we are :D also i wrote this while my professor was in the background talking about 16th century literature on zoom and now it’s a genuine concern for me as to whether or not ancient literature is my aphrodisiac 

                                   »»————-　♡　————-««

you never really know how yoongi does it

every time you tell yourself that this time, you won’t let yourself be distracted by your boyfriend, it’s only three seconds later that you find yourself straddling him on the couch with your hands all over him

and theN when you tell yourself that you’ll only entertain him for ten minutes maximum before getting back to work he does that dumb boyish smirk and head tilt thing (“you sure you wanna go back to your textbook?”) that makes your knees all wobbly and your tummy all warm and before you know it your poor textbooks have been abandoned on the coffee table

one time you even left a marker uncapped and when you came back an hour later it was all dRY

yoongi dipped it into a glass of water in a poor attempt to revive it but it was too late

(he bought u a set of new markers from the bookstore on campus to make up for it)

“do you- mm- do you wanna hear about the classes i’m taking this semester?” you pull away and reach up to adjust your glasses that are now a little wonky considering the fact you and yoongi have been kissing for- has it already been twenty minutes?!

what happened to your ten minute rule??

yoongi rolls his eyes playfully before nodding, “go for it, dork-” he snorts before nudging his nose against your chin to get you to tilt your head back

he knows that if he says no you’re going to whinE about it for the entire time he’s groping you on the sofa so he might as well let you get it off your chest

“okay, so i’m taking this super cool literature course on trauma-“ you hum as you wrap your arms loosely around yoongi’s neck

yoongi starts to press warm kisses against your jaw while his hand slides down from your waist so that he’s gripping the side of your thigh, “mm, yeah? sounds cool.”

“it’s so super cool!” you gasp excitedly, “and the professor is super nice - i mean, she’s a little ditzy with zoom, but that’s to be expected - oh, anD she has purple hair, which automatically makes her the coolest professor ever-” you absentmindedly shift in yoongi’s lap and he grunts when you grind down against him in the process

also

side note

(not that he’s not paying attention to what you’re saying right now, but it’s pretty hard to noT focus on the fact that he’s currently kissing up on his very pretty girlfriend)  

he was never really into dry humping before you came along

you guys don’t do it as often considering the fact that now,.,. now u can just have plain ol sex buT sometimes you’ll get into it if you’re on a tight schedule or something

like the other night yoongi had some dinner plans with a couple of friends (aka going to town on 5 XL pizzas in a grubby frat house) but yoU, for some reason, decided that while he was in the middle of putting his shoes on, that was the perfect time to tell him that you wanted to play

“the last person who gets there has to take out the garbage, and i am noT going to take out the garbage again-“

“but don’t you like it when i grind on you wearing just your sweatshirt?”

yoongi pauses in the middle of tying his laces

so yeah

he was the last one to arrive at the frat house which meant he was on garbage duty but it was totally worth it

and yeah, he supposes dry humping is typically something that only a couple of hormonal prepubescent teenagers would be into but.,,. with you, it’s just so,.,.., it’s so hot

he likes seeing you get so worked up over him when he hasn’t even taken any of his clothes off yet

his favourite is when he’s lying on his back and you’re on top just because he… likes it when you’re on top

there really isn’t a very deep explanation to his preference

it’s a nice view! sue him!

he also likes when you place your hands on his chest

you say it’s because it helps keep you from falling off but he knows you just like touching him there

and right as you’re about to cum, your fingers always twitch and he likes the feeling of your nails digging into the thick fabric of his hoodies

not to mention, he loves seeing your reactions whenever he starts talking dirty to you because your cheeks and the tips of your ears get super red and usually you get all quiet and whimpery but there’s always a fire in your eyes like you’re ready to rip all of his clothes off

like there was one time he actually just wanted to tease you just to see how far he could go (you weren’t paying any attention to him because your stupid nose was stuck in your stupid books as per usual and he was getting really bored) and he’d never seen you so needy before

“yeah? you like it when i talk to you like this?” yoongi coos and bites back a grin when you buck your hips against him with a pitiful whine slipping past your lips

he presses his palm flat against your hip to keep you from moving, “aw, what’s the matter, baby? need me?” yoongi pushes his bottom lip out in a mocking pout as he hooks a finger into the waistband of your skirt before giving it a playful tug

“yoongi, please-“ you prop yourself up on your elbows before leaning up to try to get yoongi to kiss you

he’s been dodging your kisses for the past five minutes which he’s been really enjoying because you look awfully cute when you frown at him like that

and to make matters worse (for you, duh! not him >:-)) he knoWs you really really like kissing him

yoongi nearly snorts when he notices you looking at him like you’re about to skin him alive

he totally gets it because he’s basically blue-balling you

it’s nice to be on the other side of the situation for once!

no wondER you do it all the time

“yoongi.” you clear your throat and he raises a brow

“mhm?”

“i don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but-“ you poke your finger against his chest, “in three seconds, i’m going to get on my hands and knees for you - and i want you to push my skirt up, tug my panties to the side, and fuck me. please fuck me.”

yoongi’s eyes widen in surprise and he pulls back a little

you very rareLY use swear words on a daily basis - in fact, you usually scold him when he brings his potty mouth into your apartment - so he’s not used to you dropping the f-bomb so casuall-

“did i mention i started taking birth control?”

yoongi’s mouth immediately goes dry

“-also taking a literature class on shakespeare, which is really bringing me back to high school-“ yoongi snaps out of his little trip down memory lane when he feels you shift on his lap again

okay well

he was like 5% horny earlier but now that the gates of his spank bank have basically flung wiDE open it’s safe to say that he’s roughly… 98% horny?

maybe a little more

maybe like 150% horny

you could flick his forehead and he would have a mind-blowing orgasm - that’s how horny he is. 

it’s not his fault!!! 

blame the spank bank!!! 

“and- oh!” you find yourself flopping back on the couch and staring up at the ceiling all of a sudden and you blink quickly as your brain attempts to catch up to what the hecK is happening right now 

“i’m going to need you to shut up now, please.” yoongi’s face pops up in front of your eyes and your eyes widen when he drags you down towards him until his very obvious bulge is pressing right up against your centre

you feel your face flush bright red and you find yourself struggling to come up with anything to say because a second ago you were literally talking about william frickin shakespeare, “but-”

“here’s what’s going to happen-“ yoongi tugs his sweatshirt up over his head, “first, i’m gonna go down on you,” he tosses it aside before leaning over and placing both hands on either side of your head, the thin silver chain hanging around his neck dangling down, “and then we’re gonna fuck-”

“language!” you say on instinct and yoongi immediately snorts

that’s pretty rich coming from you, miss flip-my-skirt-up-and-fuck-me-now 

“and you know, since i’m feeling particularly generous today,” he ignores your comment about his oh-so inappropriate language, “i’ll gladly let you choose how we boink-”

(you end up riding him which we all know is the decision yoongi is more than happy with.)

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requested drabbles masterlist