#he's kind of a facts and logic guy but when you get into it he's just stubbornly confident about his bullshit

[s0ckh3adstudios]

I REALLY need to stop drawing for now because doing so is inconvenient and uncomfortable but I really wanted to get some stuff out for this AU because I have MANY ideas for it- So!!!!! Here's my take on an ISAT roleswap!!

This is Time Spent Among Stars (TSAS)! I've been brainstorming a lot for it during the past couple of days. If you know me, you know how I go about swap AU's. I try to make things as logical and faithful to both the characters and the universe and the original story as a whole.

When it comes to a roleswap for ISAT, I find it to be a very particular task. This is because ISAT happens for very specific reasons that all stem from Siffrin and the current circumstances he's in. So, go for a roleswap where the circumstances are a bit different. But I also don't want to retread on the story ISAT already told. By that I mean, for example, Twinkle is NOT Bonnie. I wonder who they could be? Alongside this is the fact that is not neccessarily a story about Bonnie needing to learn to talk about feelings or whatever with the fact that they want to stay with the party longer. That is NOT their issue to tackle, that is Siffrin's.

There's also the whole star theme. I always kind of dislike when swap AU's still include star theming and a star Loop equivalent because stars are SIFFRIN'S THING. Now you may be confused. because. hey Sock. you did that with this AU? YES. YES I DID. BUT I FOUND A WAY TO STILL CONNECT IT BACK TO BONNIE REASONABLY AND GAVE THIS AU A REASON TO STILL HAVE ITS CONNECTION TO STARS AND THE COUNTRY AND WHATNOT. GUYS I GOT IT UNDER CONTROL. AND THERE IS A REASON TWINKLE IS A STAR CHARACTER.

That's not enough preamble though- I'll put this under the cut, here's my more specific thoughts on some things and the swaps!

Bonnie is the Traveler (The Runaway)

A little kid living on the streets of Bambouche. They had washed up on shore in another town where they were tossed around foster families. They eventually ran away as none of these homes felt like theirs. They didn’t have many memories and didn’t want their memories to be with these people. Similarly to canon, after Bambouche was frozen by the curse, Bonnie ran and ran and ran from the town to the brink of exhaustion before being found by the party. When Bonnie was younger, Petronille ran away from home with them. They came from an abusive home. The night was stormy and yet Nille decided to escape by boat. They got close to country which was actively being forgotten. Nille fell from the boat, injured, but young Bonnie was fine and their boat wasn’t close enough to join. They would float back to Vaugarde with tampered memories.

Isabeau is the Housemaiden (The Missionary)

When he first went to his local House of Change, he was so inspired and interested in it all that he decided to stay and join the House. He does a lot of mission work, going around Vaugarde to teach the Change belief and whatnot.

Mirabelle is the Fighter (The Warrior)

She felt betrayed and confused and broken after Euphrasie betrayed everyone and did this to Vaugarde. She questioned everything. But she knew there was no time for that. She had to save her country. She felt obligated. She was still blessed by Euphrasie, an action done in the hope that Mirabelle would stay with her and watch the worlds perfection be frozen in time. She reufsed. She became more of a fighter after leaving on her journey, growing much more stressed and a little more on edge. She often doesn’t know her strength.

Siffrin is the Researcher (The Archivist) 

He made a different choice. Instead of letting their hazy baggage hold them back, they wanted answers. If they could never fit in here, he would figure out where he came from and why. He’s spent much of his new life in Vaugarde researching both Vaugarde itself and the mysterious tale of the country he believes they come from. They’re a little quieter and more stern and factual here, but they’re still loveable punny Sif.

Odile is the Chef (The Kid)

A talented chef who takes “too many cooks in the kitchen” to heart and often flew solo. Here she’s more interested in the recipes and food culture of Vaugarde. Instead of a familytale, she’s looking for something else- A book that is like a familytale but for family recipes. Recipes for meals or baked goods can tell you a lot about a family and their history. It’s unique to them. You can tell a lot from them by them if you know how to look. She never had these sorts of meals or recipe books back home. Not one genre of food she could resonate with personally because of her divide between Ka Bue and Vaugarde.

Euphrasie as the King (The Housemaiden}

Claude, her dearest, was killed in an accident regarding one of her creations. It broke her. It got Euphrasie rethinking everything. She didn’t want things to change anymore. She loved how things were. She didn’t want Mirabelle to change, she was happy. She didn’t want Rorey to change, he was doing so much better than when she first met him. She broke down. She wanted the entirety of Vaugarde to stay in this same peaceful happy moment. Not to mention now understanding the terror of the idea of losing her country like Rorey (The King) did.

A lot of other details are relatively the same because these are still the same characters, they’ve just gone through some different circumstances that put them in different roles. Mirabelle is still “the chosen one” and gathers the party. Isabeau is still second to be recruited. Siffrin still doesn’t talk about his feelings (but will have a friend quest where Bonnie helps them with that). Odile, like how she wouldn’t say what she was researching, now won’t tell them what kind of chef she is. Bonnie still isn’t allowed to fight. Etc etc etc.

A lot of these are still concepts and are subject to change but I would love to answer questions and doodle some more when I'm not tired LMAO. Merry Christmas Eve, may Time Spent Among Stars woe be upon ye!

[july-19th-club]

favorite type of villanous characters are the ones whose motivations boil down to

like they dont even have to have any stakes in the broader situation. they just have take pleasure in destruction

[robylovi]

Thinking abt that catradora ‘While You Were Sleeping’ AU fic I read that was so good it got me to watch the movie only for it to feel exactly like when you watch a movie based off a book you read and feel incredibly disappointed even though the fic clearly didn’t come first ??

[pebblezone]

French Jumpscare warning

[skrunksthatwunk]

oh i feel like you guys need to know that not only does my dad LOATHE smile bomb but he's insisting that it has... no melody? he's called it atunal more than once, which isn't a word but whatever. and when we pointed out that it does, in fact, have notes going up and down and shit, something that him disliking the song does not change, he did not retract this statement, and insisted on it several times afterward

[loriache]

"I've been waiting for ages for somebody to unmask them."

This moment tends to elicit negative reactions in a first read through, and I've got some opinions about why where Kabru is coming from here actually makes a lot of logical sense. So I thought I'd elaborate on that.

I think people hear this and go, "He thinks they must be hiding something because they gave money to someone? What a cynic." Or "he dislikes them because they did charity?? What's wrong with this guy!". And obviously, a lot, a lot is wrong with him. But I think this makes more sense than it seems at first glance! What people evaluating this judgement miss is why Kabru is paying attention to Laios and co to begin with.

Kabru knows of the Touden siblings because (he's a little bit of a stalker-) he is keeping an eye on all the relevant parties in events developing on the island, in order to be able to guide them to his preferred outcome. This includes adventurers because they are the ones actually exploring the dungeon! He's well aware that something as minor as internal tensions between party members could be key to the historical events that are developing. (He would love the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand.)

His desired outcome is that whatever the rewards are of breaking the dungeon's curse, whether that's kingship or the ancient elven secrets of dungeons, are claimed by:

A) a short lived person

B) Someone who will be a good, effective leader and/or use those secrets and the power they carry wisely, with foresight, and to establish a political bloc for short lived people.

The person he can best trust to do this is, of course, himself. But due to his PTSD regarding dungeons and monsters, he's not able to develop the necessary skills to conquer the dungeon. Once he realises this, he starts looking for someone else who he can support to that end.

But most of the adventurers don't have any intentions of conquering the dungeon, don't have the skills, or are unsuitable in other ways. In fact, it seems like some potentially suitable people are the Toudens. There are a lot of good rumours about them going around - they actually seem to have a very positive reputation! That's what Kabru means when he says "unmask".

So when Kabru is observing something like them giving money to an old comrade from their gold-peeling days, he doesn't consider it a problem because "they're giving money to this person who doesn't actually need it" or because they must have some dark secret if they act superficially nice. I think he actually understands this situation and what it implies about Laios (in particular) perfectly well.

Laios and Falin gave money to an old comrade who got injured and couldn't work. That person then healed up but kept taking their money. Then he used the money to start smuggling illicit goods to the island.

The key is that for Kabru, the problem here is the same as with the corpse retrievers - people using the dungeon's resources to fuel dangerous, selfish, or violent pursuits cause problems for the island, attract more criminals and people with motives other than breaking the curse, and increase the chances of the whole situation ending in tragedy.

Kabru is willing to work with the Shadow Lord of the island if it gets him to his goal - he isn't scrupulous - but the criminal element of the island increasing is something he sees as a major issue.

Also, when you're evaluating someone as a candidate for power, riches, secrets, potentially kingship - then being curious about how the money you give to people is going to be used is kind of a relevant trait!

Interpersonally, Kabru's actually very easygoing - I mean, Mickbell isn't exactly an upstanding guy, is he! But Kabru likes him and they get along well. These traits wouldn't be a problem at all in a friend, or a comrade, or someone Kabru was confident he could use. But he can't get a handle on Laios, and Laios is someone who has the potential to be a major player!

On Laios' end, this is the same as with the marriage seeker who joined their party. She kept asking for things and he gave them to her, because he tries to be nice to others. He even gives her money! It's the exact same thing.

That's fine, but it became a problem because he basically wasn't interested in her motives, didn't notice she was trying to manipulate him, and it also didn't occur to him that the other party members would notice or be affected. We can assume the situation with the gold peeler is the same. When Kabru says that "It's not that they're bad people, they just aren't interested in humans," he isn't wrong.

The extent to which this is true of Laios is linked to his autism imo, (because it isn't just disinterest - he genuinely isn't able to notice nonverbal cues that people are lying to him or have ulterior motives) but to a greater or lesser extent I think it's a very common trait. Most people aren't actually that interested in other people who aren't close to them. Kabru is the weird one here. It isn't an issue except as a leader - which is why we see an immediate comparison to the Island's Lord, because that's how Kabru is evaluating them.

And disinterest in/lack of ability with people to the extent Laios exhibits it, it does, actually, make him a worse leader... it's just that as we see in the story, people can help him out. The rest of the party tell him the marriage seeker is taking advantage of him so he tells her he can't give her special treatment anymore. They're pissed and it's a crisis point - he couldn't have recovered their trust without Marcille and Falin - but that's exactly the point. With Marcille and Falin, he was able to recover their trust.

And he has other good traits that make up for it, such as his intelligence, strategic knowledge, open-mindedness and sense of fairplay.

Kabru doesn't disqualify Laios as a candidate based on what he sees about him from afar, though - he still tries very hard to get close to him, obviously hoping that if he manages he can steer Laios to defeat the dungeon and make up for his lack of people-skills in the aftermath. (Which... he does eventually achieve that goal!) He completely fails until the events of the story, so... definitely I think "They just aren't interested in humans" could also partially be a stung reaction to Laios' complete disinterest in him.

Anyway, that's my read on what exactly Kabru's "issue" with Laios is. Obviously, once he does find out what Laios' true nature is like - about his love for monsters - he develops an entirely new set of fears about Laios' priorities. But since Laios kept that a secret until the start of the story, he has no idea of that yet.

Given all that, I think it's interesting that he says that he doesn't think that the Toudens are suitable to defeat the dungeon, and that he's hoping they'll turn out to be the thieves. As some of his few potential candidates, people who he thinks may play a big role in the island's future, you'd think he'd hope they would be good people!

I suppose it's better, in his eyes, because it means that he's involved in something "interesting". They haven't just had their stuff stolen by regular criminals (boring, puts them further away from his goal) - they've been caught up in the beginning stages of "a historic event". The desperate and dwindling group forgetting morals in their quest to retrieve their lost comrade probably appeals to his sense of melodrama. Because he also just... loves drama.

Despite it being "uglier than anything he was expecting", he still pursues Laios as the person he wants to conquer the dungeon pretty much as soon as it becomes clear that he won't be able to do it himself and they are out of time. That's because... well, to be fair, there aren't any other options. And he fits standard A: he's short-lived!

and Kabru still hopes he can fit standard B, too, and be persuaded to use the power he wins for good. No matter how many nightmares he has about Laios, or whether he thinks about killing him. He doubts him, but ultimately he puts his faith in him and seems happy after the manga's ending that he made the right decision.

[deconstructthesoup]

One thing I absolutely adore about Dead Boy Detectives is the immaculate costume design. Specifically, how it perfectly encapsulates who the characters are, both as a whole and who they are in the moment.

From the very first scene of the show, we know immediately that Edwin is a bookish, somewhat stuffy guy from the Edwardian era who attended a boarding school, and Charles is a punk from the 1980's who's most likely the wildcard between the two of them, just going off of the way that they're dressed. Both of them have distinct color schemes and different styles, but the general shape of their outfits is actually relatively similar---both of them have collared shirts (Edwin's dress shirt, Charles's polo), something over those shirts (Edwin's vest, Charles's suspenders), a jacket of some kind (Edwin's suit jacket, Charles's flannel thing), a longer overcoat (Edwin's traveling coat, Charles's peacoat), something around the neck (Edwin's bowtie, Charles's necklace), slacks, and nice shoes. They're distinct, yet matching, two clearly defined separate characters yet part of a set.

Edwin's prim, proper, buttoned-up personality lends itself to the way he dresses throughout the season---in the first episode, he only dresses down when he's in the office with Charles, aka his safe place and his safe person, and he doesn't really dress down like that again for a good long while after getting stuck in Port Townsend (though, if my memory serves me correctly, he does take off the suit jacket while watching TV with Niko). But in episode six, he's changed up his usual look for a cozier, casual-looking sweater and a little bit of collarbone, and in episode seven... well, he's in his nightclothes, and he's about as open, raw, and vulnerable as you can get. Edwin's color scheme is also predominately blue, which lines up nicely with his logical and practical, yet deeply sad and closed off personality, and the only time he really wears anything other than his normal blue-and-brown outfit (willingly, that is) is when he's in that green sweater in episode six. And, uh... all I can say is that it's quite telling how blue and green---or, well, teal---are the main colors of the gay/mlm flag.

Charles, by contrast, dresses down a lot, and that makes a lot of sense when you consider the fact that unlike Edwin, he feels comfortable pretty much anywhere. On any given episode, he goes from wearing his peacoat to just wearing his flannel to ditching the flannel to not even wearing the freaking polo---though, again, the latter is something that only happens when he's in the office with Edwin. Safe space, safe person. And, well, plenty of people have analyzed Charles's polo shirt going from red to burgundy to black over the course of the series, and there being a little bit of red under the collar of his coat that's only visible when Edwin fixes it, and then it goes back to burgundy, and then it's red again when Edwin's out of Hell... for good reason! It's color symbolism at its finest! Not to mention, the red and black not only perfectly contrasts Edwin's color scheme, but it also lines up with Charles's personality---he's a rebel, he's hotheaded, he's bold and brash and loud... and yes, he's angry, but he's also so, so loving.

When we first meet Crystal after she loses her memories, her outfit choices feel very deliberate. They're stylish and vaguely trendy, they're arty and a little bit witchy---pretty fitting for a psychic who's also a showbiz kid, even if she doesn't know that last part. But all of her clothes appear thrifted, or at the very least vintage, and the patterns and the general vibe all feel natural and comforting. Her makeup's always fairly simple, her hair's either down or up in a couple of cute space buns... overall, this Crystal looks like the kind of person who'd make you tea when you're in a bad mood, who'll listen when you just need to vent, and who may not always know the right thing to say but will understand what you're going through. But when we see her in the flashbacks, her clothing's flashy and prioritizes high-end trends over comfort, she's either got her hair up or has it straightened, and she not only has dramatic makeup, but acrylics. This is a girl who talks shit about you behind your back, who's bitter and cynical and wants everyone to feel the same way, who makes up for the lack of love and stability in her life via material things. It's also worth noting that Crystal's color scheme has a lot of purple, which is a color that connects to wealth and luxury, but also creativity and magic---which, yeah, fits her two conflicting sides pretty damn well.

You cannot talk about Niko Sasaki without talking about her outfits, and the meaning behind each of them has already been talked about at length. However, one thing that really stands out to me is that the reason they're so iconic isn't just because of the monochrome color schemes, but because they're out there. They're weird, they're eclectic, they're a little mismatched in style sometimes, and they're so unapologetically her. Niko wears heart-shaped sunglasses, unironically. Everything about the way she dresses speaks to how, even though she's a recovering shut-in who initially doesn't want to be perceived, she's still very sure of who she is.

Jenny's design, like Charles and Edwin's, is a design that gives you the key information you need the minute she first appears onscreen. The dark makeup, the silver jewelry, the leather apron, and the hairstyle all point to a person who's tough, doesn't take anyone's shit, and has long since given up on caring what other people think---in other words, she's a badass. But the butterfly tattoo hints at a softer side, a side that we see time and time again throughout the series as she shows that she cares about Crystal and Niko, and even the boys... eventually. Also, Jenny's design is perhaps one of the most clearly queer-coded in the series, to the point where her being a confirmed lesbian is pretty much a no-brainer.

Esther's design oozes camp, from top to bottom. The fluffy coat, the bustier, the boots and the cane and the everything, speak to a woman who's kept with the times and yet has seen it all. There's really not a lot I can fully say about her design, other than what Charles has already said: "She looks like a witch... like, kind of a sexy witch, who smokes a lot." (Or maybe I'm just tired and running out of steam at this point, idk, I love Esther's design and I can't really put it into words.) It's also pretty fitting that her color scheme has a lot of yellow in it---after all, she's always striving for more, so what better color for her than the color of gold?

Everything about the Night Nurse's design speaks to a woman who follows rules and discipline above all else, from the pantsuit to the pinned-up hairstyles to the tie to the heels. She's also the most muted out of the main cast in terms of color, dressing mostly in browns, dull greens, and duller browns---and while I don't have a lot to go into detail about there, I feel like that's kind of a symbol of her narrow-minded and bureaucratic worldview.

And the animal characters... Jesus Christ, I fully forget that they're all being played by human actors. Tragic Mick dresses like a man who's always spent his life by the sea, layered denim and all, and it's never a stretch to see this sad, bushy-bearded, baggy-clothed fisherman and imagine him as a walrus lounging on a beach. Monty, at first glance, seems to only wear black, which would be perfectly fitting for a crow, but when he's in better lighting, you see that he dresses in layers of red and blue, calling to how he envies Charles and Edwin and clearly longs for something more---and this might just be me, but I think that even though his outfits seem fairly normal at first glance, they feel kind of like a costume for Monty more than anything else, like he's trying to emulate a teenager that he's seen on TV more than someone in real life.

The Cat King fits this just as well, with all of his outfits aligning perfectly with whatever his cat form is at the time---when he's a fluffy ginger, it's always sequins and fur coats and clothing pieces that are specifically designed to take up space and call attention, and when he's a black shorthair, it's sleek styles and shiny leather and pieces that are designed to cut an intimidating yet more subtle figure. And while I could go into detail about all of those, what really stands out to me is how clearly queer everything is---more than Jenny's alt lesbian attire, more than Esther's campy coat and corset. From the very first scene he's in, he's wearing a skirt, and it looks natural. Nothing about the way the Cat King presents himself is exaggerated, nothing about the way he dresses is played for laughs---he's flamboyant and feminine and flirty, and he looks so fucking hot while he does it. It's gorgeous.

So... yeah, uh, all the awards for the Dead Boy Detectives costume designers!

[wheres-mylove]

ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.8k

The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.

“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.

🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed

🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.

Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.

Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.

Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.

Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.

With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.

“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”

“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”

“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”

“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”

“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.

“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.

“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.

“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”

“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.

“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.

(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.

She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.

“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.

“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.

The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.

She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.

“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.

“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.

“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?

“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”

The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.

“‘M absolutely knackered.”

Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.

“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”

If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”

“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”

“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but Jacaerys was currently listening only to himself.

“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”

“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”

“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”

“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.

Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”

“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.

“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.

“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.

A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.

“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”

Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.

Two new messages.

🐺: you looked so pretty today

🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!

The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.

Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.

“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”

Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 

“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”

His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”

Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.

“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”

Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 

“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”

She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.

“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”

Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”

“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.

“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan confessed with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”

With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.

“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.

“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 

The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.

Of course they won.

The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.

“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”

“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”

Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.

The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.

“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.

Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.

“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.

“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”

(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.

“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.

“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”

“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”

Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.

“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.

“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.

“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.

The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”

Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.

Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.

(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.

They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 

It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.

“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”

Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.

Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”

They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.

But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.

“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”

“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”

Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”

[felinecyan]

Untouchable

[Katsuki Bakugo x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When a classmate breaks a well-known rule within the dorm, you decide to take it upon yourself to “fix” the issue.

WC: 2863

Category: Mega Fluff, Kindhearted!Reader, Todoroki being an icon (like always 💅)

I don’t know about you guys, but writing for Bakugo is the single hardest thing I have ever done. He is SUCH a difficult character to get right 😭

I believe I did him justice, though 🙏🙏

『••✎••』

Kaminari had a death wish. That was the only logical explanation for why the electric blonde was currently in the common room with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, along with a bowl of ramen that just so happened to belong to one Katsuki Bakugo.

Food was the one thing the explosive hero didn't joke around with, and the rest of Class 1-A was painfully aware of that fact. It was like a rule that had been ingrained into everyone's minds after spending any amount of time around the temperamental blonde.

Do not, under any circumstances, mess with Bakugo's food. Ever.

So the moment you had walked out of the kitchen and saw the familiar spice-infused soup in Kaminari's hands, you knew there was about to be a disaster. And that disaster was going to happen at the cost of the boy's life.

You were about to warn Kaminari when a familiar voice stopped you, its monotone quality giving away that it belonged to the heterochromatic hero. "Don't."

Todoroki shook his head at your concerned expression, a sigh leaving his lips. "It's not worth the effort; he'll learn the hard way. I would suggest standing back unless you want to get hit."

As if on cue, the sound of a bowl shattering against the floor echoed through the common room, and you flinched as bits of ramen and broth splattered your pants and shoes. You could only imagine what kind of mess it would have made if you had been standing any closer.

At the same time, Jiro sighed, plugging her ears as she muttered, "So much for getting some peace and quiet today."

Kaminari stood a few feet away from the mess, his entire body trembling in fear. He was too scared to move, frozen to the spot. His golden eyes were glued to the blonde standing before him, a murderous aura surrounding the ash-blonde.

"Bakugo, look, I can explain—"

The blonde's crimson eyes flashed in anger, and his face contorted into a feral snarl as he cut the electric user off. You couldn't stop the flinch that shook your body at the tone. "You... you..."

"It's just one bowl of ramen, dude! I'm sure you could easily make another one!" Kaminari exclaimed, waving his hands in front of his chest frantically. "I mean, come on, I know you love spicy food, but surely you're not that much of a monster that you'd kill me over it! Especially with something so mild as that!"

The room went silent, and Kaminari's words echoed in everyone's ears, but it only took Todoroki’s comment for the tension to change from fearful to downright chaotic.

"That was his last packet."

It was almost comical how fast the blood drained from Kaminari's face and how fast it returned a second later. The electric blonde gulped, a nervous laugh escaping him.

"B-Bakugo, listen—"

He was cut off again, this time by an explosion, which had been aimed right at his face. Thankfully, Bakugo missed on purpose, but the sound had been enough to startle everyone.

"You're so dead, Spark Plug!"

And thus began the chase, with Kaminari being chased around the room by an enraged Bakugo. Kaminari's screams of terror and Bakugo's threats and explosions filled the air, and everyone watched on in amusement.

Well, everyone except for Iida. He was chasing Bakugo, trying to calm the blonde down and yelling at him for using his quirk indoors, but his efforts were fruitless.

"Stop running around the room! You're going to destroy the furniture and break something!"

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, DUNCE FACE! GET BACK HERE SO I CAN KICK YOUR ASS!"

Typical afternoon in the U.A. dorms.

After what felt like forever, the chaos eventually died down, with Bakugo calming down enough to sit and stew in his anger and Kaminari passing out from his quirk short-circuiting. You helped Iida clean up the mess that had been left behind, and everyone else returned to their activities.

But you felt bad for Bakugo. Yes, the blonde was a little intense and downright mean sometimes, but you knew what it felt like to crave something you didn't have. Especially when you physically buy that ‘something.' So, you decided to go out and get the angry Pomeranian a replacement packet.

Of course, given the fact that being empathetic was a common occurrence for you, the explosive hero wasn't at all surprised to see you walking toward the doors of the dorms with nothing but your wallet and a smile.

And he was not pleased.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

You stopped in your tracks, turning around to face the blonde, who had an unreadable expression on his face. Honestly, you were still shocked that he was still in his uniform, given he usually changes the moment he walks through the dorms. Not to mention, he even started wearing it properly, which was a feat in itself.

"Umm..."

"If you're about to say the damn store, I'll blow your ass to the moon," he threatened, and you couldn't help the frown that tugged at your lips.

"I'm just going to get you some more packets, okay? It's not a big deal," you said, your eyes softening. "I don't like seeing people upset, especially not over things that can easily be solved."

"Like hell, I'm upset!" He snapped, but the lack of bite in his voice gave him away.

You raised an eyebrow but kept your mouth shut. After knowing Bakugo for as long as you have, you've learned that the best way to deal with him is to keep your thoughts and opinions to yourself—at least, all thoughts and opinions about him.

"I'll be back in an hour, okay?" You said, offering him a kind smile. "Is there anything else you need?"

Something about the look in your eyes and the kindness in your voice was enough to make the blonde falter, his resolve slipping. He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest, a scowl on his face.

But, since he didn't respond, you figured that was all you were going to get from him. So, you turned back around and headed for the doors, intent on leaving.

You hadn't gotten very far, however, when the sound of the couch squeaking alerted you. You turned your head just in time to see Bakugo jump over the back of the sofa, his slacks making a thud sound as he landed, snatching his phone off the coffee table before he headed in your direction.

He grumbled something incoherent under his breath, causing you to tilt your head, but before you could say anything, your wrist was being grabbed, and the front door was opening.

"If we're gonna get the damn ramen, then I'm coming with. It's annoying when people come back with the wrong shit, so it's better to go myself."

"Oh," you hummed, not expecting him to follow you. You smiled up at him, and the scowl on his face deepened. "Well, alright, then. The more, the merrier."

Bakugo grunted in response, dropping his grip on your wrist so he could shove his hands into his pockets. "Just keep up, alright? I don't want to wait for your slow ass."

With that, the blonde walked out of the dorms, and you were quick to follow.

For those twenty minutes, you couldn’t help but be amazed at how quiet the walk to the store was. Normally, Bakugo was yelling at someone for one reason or another. Whether it was because they were stupid, slow, or a bunch of other reasons that seemed to only make sense in his head, he was never silent.

But, currently, it was different. Bakugo wasn't talking, or yelling, or grumbling, or doing any of the things he normally does. He wasn't even walking fast, keeping his pace slow just enough so you could keep up.

He didn’t have a scowl on his face, either. He wasn’t smiling, of course, which would actually terrify you if he was, but there also wasn’t a sign of irritation or anger on his face.

In fact, he was the most relaxed you had ever seen him, his muscles not as tense as usual, and his posture was straight, yet not rigid. And his crimson eyes seemed to have a hint of softness in them, something that you had never noticed before.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even realized that the two of you had arrived at the store until the ash-blonde had started walking through the automatic doors, not waiting for you to catch up.

Shaking your head, you hurried inside, quickly scanning the store for a sign that pointed to the aisle where the ramen packets were. Bakugo was a couple of feet ahead of you, with a look of indifference on his face as he followed the sign. However, he stopped once he reached the right aisle and turned around to look at you.

"Hurry it up, nerd," he growled, his impatience getting the better of him.

You rolled your eyes, a playful smile on your face. "I'm going, I'm going."

Bakugo didn't say anything as he turned back around and started walking through the aisles, and you were hot on his heels. Believe it or not, you were on a side mission, determined to not just grab the ramen for him.

He got distracted, and the two of you weren't in a hurry, so you went around and grabbed a few things that you knew your classmates had mentioned wanting. If you were going to take the time to go to the store, you might as well make it count.

After a few minutes, you ran into Bakugo, who had his arms full of different flavors of the ramen brand he liked. He took one singular glance at the contents of your basket and rolled his eyes.

"The hell are you getting all that shit for? I ain’t helping you carry anything."

"Well," you huffed, a pout on your face. He seemed to realize you were about to give him an entire speech because he immediately let out the most dramatic groan you had ever heard from him and began walking away.

You didn't care, though, and continued speaking, following him around the store.

"Well, I was just going to get the ramen and be done with it, but then I ran into Mina, who told me she was craving some 'chocolatey goodness,' which are her words, not mine," you explained, pulling out the package of chocolate-covered strawberries.

"Anyway, so, then I ran into Kirishima, who was complaining that there were no manly snacks in the pantry, and the last of his protein bars were eaten the other day, ironically also by Kaminari," you added, showing him the small box of protein bars. "So, I figured I'd get him some more and make sure Kaminari has his own snacks."

Bakugo groaned once more, still refusing to look at you. And, again, you ignored him and kept speaking.

"Also, Sero wanted more chips, and Koda was asking for some extra treats for the animals," you continued, showing him the chips and animal treats. "I didn't run into Midoriya, but he’s been awfully kind with his notes, so I'm pretty sure he would appreciate some gummies and pocky."

"Alright, I get it," Bakugo grumbled, a grimace on his face.

"Mineta also asked if I could grab him a new bag of limes, but I figured, after that little stunt he pulled in the changing room, that he doesn't deserve to have his gross habits indulged." You scoffed, trying to make a dramatic gesture but failing, given the items in your arms.

Bakugo paused in the middle of the aisle, turning around to finally face you, his arms still full. "You done?"

"Hey, you asked." You shrugged, a smile on your face. "I wasn't finished, though. Jiro wants more popcorn, Ojiro needs some more protein powder, Hagakure needs—"

"Is any of that shit even for you?" He cut you off, narrowing his eyes at you.

You pursed your lips and tilted your head. "No. Why?"

"You came all this way, wasting money on everyone else's crap, and didn't even think about grabbing shit for yourself?" He asked, his eyes narrowing further. "Are you stupid or something?"

"Um, well, no?" You answered although it came out as more of a question. "It's not a big deal. I was already going here, anyway."

Bakugo clicked his tongue, shaking his head. He walked forward and, without a word, dropped his armful of ramen onto your own. "Hold these."

Before you could protest, the ash-blonde walked past you and disappeared from view. Confused, you spun around and tried to follow him, but the sudden weight in your arms made it hard to move.

"Bakugo, wait up! I can't move!"

"Then stop moving, idiot." His voice was muffled by the shelves, and you couldn't tell where exactly he was. But, as if he had a sixth sense for things like this, Bakugo returned to the aisle, his arms full of random snack foods and drinks.

"What are you—"

"Shut up and follow me," he said, not letting you finish your sentence. You opened your mouth to speak, but a sharp glare from the blonde made you close it.

Bakugo led you through the aisles and dropped the items onto the conveyor belt, much to the surprise of the cashier. The young girl didn't dare comment on the large pile of utter junk food, however, and merely rang it all up, her eyes never leaving the screen.

Once the total came up, you pulled out your wallet to hand the girl the money, not wanting Bakugo to waste any of his own money on you, but the blonde snatched the bills from your fingers before you could pay.

"Hey, what—"

"I said, shut up." He clicked his tongue and turned away, his back facing you. You could hear the rustle of his pockets as he fished out his own wallet, and you were quick to shake your head.

"Bakugo, the whole point of me coming here was so I could pay. You were the one who got his last packet stolen, so I was supposed to be paying for the new one, and—"

"Do you ever shut the hell up?" Bakugo interrupted, his voice gruff. He didn't turn around to face you, but his tone was enough for you to shut up. "I don't give a shit about the money. It's my own damn fault for letting that dunce face near my food, anyway."

"But—"

"And it's not like I need the money," he added, pulling a couple of bills from his wallet and handing them to the cashier. "My parents are loaded. It's not a big deal."

Way to show off, Blasty.

But you knew better than to say that. Instead, you closed your mouth, your eyes softening. It didn't make sense to you, though, because not only was he buying his own replacement ramen, but he was also buying an abundance of junk food, which, while tasty, wasn't for him or you.

It's always about repaying the favor with him, but this was just... unnecessary.

"Thank you," you said instead, knowing that he would only get irritated if you kept protesting. "That was... unexpectedly nice of you."

"Don't make a big deal out of it," he grumbled, picking up a few of the bags. He handed them to you, and you struggled to balance the weight, but you didn't complain. "It was your fault for being too damn nice."

You blinked, not sure if you were supposed to take that as a compliment or an insult. Either way, you didn't say anything and merely nodded. Bakugo didn't spare you a second glance as he grabbed the rest of the bags and began walking toward the exit.

"You coming, or what?" He called out, not looking back at you.

A smile grew on your face, and despite him not even looking at you, something told you he could sense the happiness radiating from you. You hurried forward, struggling a bit to balance the bags in your arms and keep up with Mr. Grumps, but the smile didn't leave your face.

"So... does this mean we're friends now?"

"The hell? No!"

"I think we are, Blasty."

"Don't call me that." He narrowed his eyes at you, but you merely giggled.

"Would you rather it be Kacchan? Kaminari's been using that one a lot lately."

"Call me that, and I'll blast you into the fucking sun."

"Blasty it shall be, then."

Needless to say, the walk back to the dorms was the complete opposite of the walk to the store. But, just as the silence between the two of you was comfortable then, the bickering and teasing and overall playful nature of the conversation was comfortable now.

Bakugo would never admit it, and you knew better than to ask, but he didn't have a problem with the nickname or the new friendship that blossomed between the two of you.

And you didn't have a problem, either.

[rawbin-hsr]

Rating HSR characters in relationships

Title is self-explanatory <3

Characters: Boothill, Dr Ratio, Blade, Aventurine (separately)

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

CW: cursing, mostly fluff and some crack

CW Aventurine's part: toxic dynamics, emotional neglect, jealousy, Aventurine in general

Lmk if there's any warnings I should add!

Had to restrain myself on Dr. Ratio I have soo bad brain worms about him rn he’s all I think about

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Boothill

10/10

DO NOT. AT ME. I PROMISE I’VE THOUGHT THIS THROUGH. I know most people who read that will be like “what the fuck Boothill would NOT be a perfect partner” and that’s where you’re right ! No, he would be an awful partner !

For MOST people. 

But see, he wouldn’t be just ANYONE’S partner. 

If you’re dating him, it means you’re exactly his type and he’s exactly yours. You wouldn’t date a guy like him if he wasn’t exactly what you wanted. He lays out all his cards on the table right away. Your relationship won’t have the chance to even begin if you’re not head over heels immediately bro 😭😭😭

With most characters I can imagine them in a relationship with a lot of different kinds of people. Like for example yeah I can imagine Aventurine both dating someone more reserved and sweet or someone bold and loud. Or someone like Argenti Lord knows that man could love ANYONE (or anyTHING tbh), but with Boothill there’s just a very narrow range of personalities I can imagine him with. Hence the rating cause he’d only be in one kind of relationship. 

You guys are a POWER COUPLE I tell you. It’s SICKENING how much you love each other and how well you fit together. Two peas in a pod. I’m gonna throw up. 

You both love the exact same things, you both HATE the exact same things, and you are both equally deranged and insane

The IPC hates to see you coming 💀🙏

You’re constantly in a friendly competition to outdo each other. Who has the higher bounty ? (Usually him) Who can drink most alcohol before blacking out ? (You, surprisingly) Who can kiss the other the most times during this high-speed chase ? (You always tie on this)

He swallows a bullet. You say “I’ll do you one better!” and swallow a knife. You are a human and so he needs to take you to the hospital so you don’t fucking die

(You both think it’s funny afterwards so it’s okay)

Even when you guys “argue” it’s never really that serious. Honestly you both think it’s kind of hot…… you argue in a devious, sexy way……. *smirks mischievously*

Sorry I cannot take him seriously

You match his freak <3

Nobody fucking likes you together. Separately ? Sure people like you. But the moment the two of you are in the same room it’s like you merge into one singular, horrible, annoying entity and NOBODY wants to be around to see it 😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏 neither of you have gotten a lecture about how inappropriate pda can be and also the two of you speak total nonsense it’s incomprehensible to everyone else

Considering putting Boothill on my “do not request” list, not because I don’t like him but because even I don’t understand how the two of you would fit together I can’t write it y’all are that weird

Boothill is for the freaks and he is PERFECT FOR THEM !!!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Dr. Ratio

9/10

Okay I’ll be honest I’m not very caught up on Dr Ratio (I briefly hated him I only recently started liking him again HELP) so forgive me if there is some mischaracterisation in this I’m working on it my view on him isn’t complete yet 🙏🙏

Though Ratio is very ruled by logic, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have emotions. Furthermore, he views these emotions as important. Logic is not inherently opposed to emotions, and in fact, ignoring them would be illogical. 

That is to say, yes, he’s an intellectual man. But he also has a high emotional intelligence 😇😇

Like not in the way of knowing how to cope with them. I don’t think he feels many strong emotions regularly (except for annoyance lol), so I think he in fact gets kind of overwhelmed by them around you and never knows how to regulate them properly HELP

But what I meant to say is that, in a relationship, he considers your thoughts and feelings a lot and makes an effort to prioritise them. He does not want for you to be unhappy. 

He values you very highly. He takes all your opinions into consideration and treats them with respect.

He loves you a lot it’s actually ridiculous. He frequently gets annoyed at himself for how much he finds himself downright SIMPERING over you. 

And like yes Ratio can be very harsh in the way he speaks but I think that 1, his care for people (including the “fools” and “idiots” he seems to scorn so often) shows and it shows even more apparently for people he cares about, and 2 I think he realises it would be inappropriate to be as rude as he usually is to you. You two are in a relationship, you are not some stranger. He cannot go around criticising you constantly, that would not be a healthy dynamic. Meaning he softens his vocabulary for you. 

His care for you is very blatantly obvious. In the beginning I think he’s a bit embarrassed to show you affection. He hasn’t ever dated anyone, much less been in a relationship, with anyone before you (I honestly don’t even think he’s had his first kiss 😭😭), so I think his inexperience plays a part in it. But he still shows you as obviously as he can that he loves you, and he doesn’t shy away from vulnerability in private moments. 

Bro has researched how to be a good partner trust 🤞

He communicates very clearly with you as often as possible. He hates misunderstandings, and tries to avoid them whenever possible. The two of you are almost always on the same page. 

Whenever you argue, he still does not want you to leave the argument feeling unloved. Type to sigh, let his eyes soften and say “I believe it would be best if we both had some time to cool down”, then squeeze your shoulder as he passes you out of the room. Kisses you goodnight before you go to sleep. It’s often easier to talk it out the next day. 

The only things bumping him down from a 10/10 for me is the fact that he doesn’t have that much time to spare for time with only you (his schedule is very packed), and the fact that he cannot cope with his OWN emotions 😭 Great with yours because he can logistically figure out how to handle them, terrible with his own because they’re affecting his own mind and he isn’t used to it

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Blade

7/10

Surprisingly high rating for a guy like him but I swear I’ve thought about this ok don’t leave 😔😔😔

I think it takes…. A lot. Like a lot a lot. To break through Blade’s tough outer shell

He hates letting people in so much it’s actually crazy

The closest person he has before he meets you is probably Kafka, and that’s not really by his own choice he would shut her out too if he could 😭😭

(Not to say he isn’t like, calm and polite to people. He’s pretty reserved and just, like, quiet ig usually, he only really gets weird and aggressive when the Mara flares up or he needs to be for a mission. I just mean he isn’t gonna be open and available for basically anyone lol)

It’s mainly difficult to GET INTO a relationship with Blade, but if you do manage it, it turns out a lot sweeter than you’d expect

He’s just a deeply tired man. He is not malicious, he is not unnecessarily cruel. He is worn out and sick of living, of never getting the rest he so desperately craves. He finds some sort of respite in you, and so he treasures you. 

He trusts your judgement. He stands by you, no matter what. He’s loyal to a fault once you have him. The worst that could ever happen to him now is losing you. Even when he thinks you’re about to do something stupid (and he always tells you when he thinks it’s stupid), he’ll come with you. Better he’s there to take the hit for you than letting you go alone. 

Even with the smaller things, he shows it even more obviously. He cooks you dinner and lunch every day, so you don’t have to. He lets you decorate his apartment, and he never adjusts the things you place in it, even when it clashes horribly with his own style. He lets you drag him along anywhere, whether it be a concert or a park, without complaint. 

The main downsides with Blade are that he never, ever, verbally tells you that he loves you. Maybe once during your entire relationship he’ll say it, and probably when you’re on your deathbed, but he usually won’t. Even if you try to pry it out of him. 

He can be really mean in the way he says things sometimes, like telling you straight up your ideas are dumb, but it’s always softened by the way he agrees to do whatever you want anyways.

Another frustrating thing is how he cares very little for his own wellbeing. It’s a regular occurrence for him to come home with guts spilling out of his abdomen, and it’s really uncomfortable to see even if you know he can’t die. He can still feel pain, even if he’s learnt to cope with it well. It’s scary to see him so hurt so often. 

But you wouldn’t get into a relationship with him if you didn’t already know all this, hence why I rank him so high. He’s a lot better than you expected when you met him, which means you’re effectively in a better relationship than you’d have hoped 😭😭

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Aventurine

4/10 💀💀

I love him so much (my content is mostly Aventurine centric) but holy fuck man,,,

I have never and will never sugarcoat it Aventurine is TOXIC. Like GENUINELY. I wouldn’t say abusive but he can be really cruel. He gets lost in his own head and takes it out on you in ways he doesn’t really mean to. Aventurine is not a good person. 

He’s fucked up in all sorts of ways and it’s no surprise it could easily destroy any relationship

Trust issues ? Jealousy issues ? Commitment issues ? Attachment issues ? Insecurity issues ? Mommy, daddy AND sister issues ? Every kind of possible issue you can probably imagine ? Yes on all fronts, bro’s the full issue package 💀

It would take a very special kind of person to endure in a relationship with him (I would not be able to do it if he was real I’ll be so honest)😭

When things are good, they’re really good. He can be so fun and playful and sweet and he loves to spoil you and everything that belongs to him belongs to you. He loves you more than the air he breathes and he’d do anything to make you happy

The issue is, most of the time, things are not in fact good. 

I keep mentioning it but his relationships are always such a push and pull. A game of hot and cold. One second he clings to you and begs you to never leave him, and the next he won’t respond to your calls or messages. 

Even worse, sometimes he’ll be outright mean in order to push you away, insinuating you’re “holding him down” and that you’re “wasting his time”. You’ll find yourself questioning if he actually does love you, because what sort of person does this to someone they love?

(It keeps him up at night when he treats you badly. He hates doing it, but he needs you to hate him as much as he hates himself.)

Usually he’s a really smart guy. Even when he does stupid things (things like making a purposeless high-risk gamble, playing Russian roulette), he’s fully aware of what he’s doing. (He does it because he kind of hopes he’ll actually die this time.) But with you, he loses all his composure and can’t really think straight. 

He feels safe with you, and that scares him. He’s a danger to your safety, and it’s better to push you away, make you hate him, than it is to let himself be happy with you. His life is beyond saving, so all he can do to you if you stay is drag you into his mess. He can’t fix himself, not even for your sake. 

He lies to you, he neglects you (sometimes for weeks at a time), he builds up new walls between you constantly, but at the same time he gets insecure and jealous when you hang out with others. Only when you threaten to leave him does he finally start getting his act together, because he realises that now that he’s had you, he couldn’t bear to live without you (even if he knows that’s very selfish of him). 

He gets better with time, but I really, really doubt he’ll ever be fully healed. It doesn’t help that his job wouldn’t really allow it, and he can’t leave the IPC through any other means than death. 

I originally ranked him as a 3/10 (diabolically low rating I know 💀💀) but I bumped him up one because he will get better. If you stick around long enough, he’d probably make it to a 7/10, but since that would take like over 4 years of being in a relationship with him I felt it would be unfair to rank him much higher 😭😭 At the start he really fucking sucks dude I’m so sorry my condolences 

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3

[apomaro-mellow]

steddie falls into porn cliches on accident

Steve was in the middle of washing the conditioner out of his hair, loving the silky smooth feeling and watching the water turn from cloudy to clear as it was all rinsed out. He was ready to start washing his body in earnest now, when he heard the doorbell ring.

For a second, he was ready to just ignore it, thinking it might be a delivery or someone trying to solicit. They could leave whatever they had on the doorstep or keep moving. Then the bell rang a second time and Steve remembered that he was in fact supposed to answer it.

Robin had hired a plumber to fix their sink. She told him they'd be coming between 8 am to noon. Steve had gotten in the shower exactly at eight, thinking surely he had enough time in that window. What kind of plumber showed up this promptly!?

Steve turned the shower off and grabbed the first robe off the hook. It wasn't his, he knew that. But in his defense, Robin wasn't home and he liked to air dry when he could. She could get mad at him later for snagging hers. He tied it hastily, rushing to the door before the plumber left.

-------------------

Eddie waited for the door to be answered, checking his watch while he did. Today was his only appointment, so he thought he was doing well by showing up on the early end of the window. He was ready to spout the rehearsed script when the door opened. Good morning, Munson and Son Plumbing. You got a problem with your drain pipe? Well I'm here to fix it. Fun fact, I'm a guitarist, so I'm pretty good with my hands. Anyone you know looking for lessons?

His uncle didn't always like him plugging his side gig, but putting up posters around neighborhoods wasn't quite as successful as actual face time. Then the door fully opened and he got an entire eyeful. A dripping wet god of a man, his modesty just barely preserved in a bath robe. It did nothing to hide his thick, hairy thighs or impressive chest.

"Hi I'm here to handle your pipe!", Eddie blurted out. "I'm mean I'm good with my hands! P...plumbing! I'm the plumber, I'm here for your plumbing."

"Oh, y-yeah, we've been expecting you", Steve tried to close the top of his robe more and that made Eddie self conscious about staring.

Steve introduced himself and Eddie did the same as he was let into the house, somehow not putting his foot in his mouth as he did. Steve took him to the problem sink and Eddie got to work while Steve excused himself.

He went into his room, looking for something presentable only to find it was mostly his stuff for the club. Definitely not appropriate for a plumber visit. Then he remembered why. He had started a load of laundry last night. And when he woke up this morning, putting it in the dryer so it'd be ready once he was done with his shower.

He went to the laundry room to do just that, emptying the contents of the dryer into his hamper, bending over to do so. Once he was done, he'd be able to put together an outfit that didn't make him look like a desperate housewife.

Eddie had just finished tangling with the pipe. It didn't take as long as he had expected but his shirt was drenched now. He listened out for Steve, hoping he was nearby so that he didn't have to call for him, only to hear something...odd.

He followed the sound until he came to an open door and realized what the sounds were - little grunts of effort. Eddie bit his lip, letting logic and reason work themselves out. Steve knew he had someone in the house and the door was wide open so he couldn't be-

Eddie walked through the door and there was Steve, bent over, top half in the dryer, bottom half sticking out. His robe had began to hitch up, revealing just the bottom of that perfect ass.

"Holy shit", Eddie squeaked out.

"Hey? Plumber guy? I know this is awkward but would you mind helping me out? My robe got caught on something and I can't-I can't free myself."

"Um, okay? So should I just...should I just?", Eddie got behind Steve, hands fumbling. Should he adjust the robe or would that be rude?

"Just grab me and pull", Steve said, wriggling around more and stopping when he heard a rip.

"Yeah, okay, yeah I'll just", Eddie grabbed Steve's hips and pulled, to no avail.

"Gonna have to do it a bit harder than that", Steve said. "Here I'll, I'll try and push too."

Eddie swallowed as he pulled again, Steve's hips coming flush with his own and eliciting a gasp from the other man.

"A...again."

Eddie pulled again, harder this time. He had kind of been working with a half chub. The kind Steve had to feel right between his cheeks every time Eddie pulled on him.

Steve gasped with each time their hips came together and it was getting hard to pretend his asshole didn't flutter with each movement.

"Fuck, just fuck me already", Steve whined.

Eddie wasted no time in dropping his pants and rubbing his cock against Steve's ass, precum dripping and Steve still wet from the shower. The tip slipped in with ease and then the rest of him and Steve's hips wouldn't stay still and then he was fucking him oh shit he was fucking him he was fucking a client while on the clock.

Steve's voice sounded goddamn ethereal, echoing inside the tub of the dryer. He was giving as good as he got, pushing back with each thrust and Eddie got to watch his dotted cheeks jiggle with each impact.

Eddie pushed the robe up more, licking his lips as he was rewarded with the sluttiest back arch that he'd ever seen. He wasn't going to last and this Steve guy wasn't either. Eddie came first, one hand on Steve's hip and the other bracing itself on the dryer so that he didn't fall over. Steve's cock spilled into the floor, a mess to be dealt with later.

"Fuck...you really are good at handling pipes", Steve laughed through his panting.

When Eddie left that day, he didn't get Steve's number. But a week later their company got a call about a clogged toilet and specifically requested that Eddie come over, that they only trusted his expertise. This time, Eddie wouldn't let it slip through his fingers. And this time when Steve greeted him in a half open robe, it was on purpose.

[sturnlsstuff]

FAMILIAR STRANGER | chapter two

what's gonna happen when you find out about your enemy's biggest secret?

ghostface!chris x enemy!reader

chapter one | chapter three

— warnings; smut with plot, dom!chris, sub!reader, bratty reader, cursing, blood, knife play, mentions of murder - english isn't my first language.

~~~

chris had a million reasons to hate you. starting from the first day you met him and his brothers, and you accidentally spilled his last pepsi. it was a small thing, didn't mean much, but it was enough for chris to know that you would cause him problems. and he was right.

he didn't like many people, he had problems with trusting them and only his close friends knew what he really was like. besides he didn't really need anyone. still, he was popular and everyone loved him, including the girls on campus. you'd always heard them bragging that they were chris's chosen ones for one night. if not them, then someone else they knew. there were only a few girls he didn't touch and you were one of them.

though chris was tolerating your friend emma, she was really kind and respectful, always minding her own business. besides, she made matt happy, what was enough for chris.

you, on the other hand, were her complete opposite. you argue, always say what you think no matter how mean it is, you don't keep it to yourself. it was like riding without brakes, and he really didn't want to be on this ride with you when the car crashes, so he always tried to stay away. even when you started to have a better relationship with his brothers, and started constantly showing up at their house, going shopping with nick or playing hogwarts legacy with matt. even in college, he'd find you randomly in nick's room or in the frat house on the couch with matt and emma. you were everywhere.

and he was always watching you, noticing the way your nose wrinkled cutely when you laughed at something nick would say. or that look you gave him when he said something you didn't like, immediately taking a deep breath, and that's when chris always knew he was screwed. once you start talking, you never shut up.

he knew that for someone who didn't like you so much, the fact that he knew a lot about you was quite...interesting. knowing what he knows, what type of person you were, he couldn't understand why you were with someone as jealous, obsessive and toxic as your ex boyfriend. before this relationship he would never call you stupid, maybe irritating, but smart in some way. however after seeing you with jake, he thought there must be something wrong with you, which made him dislike you even more. how could you not respect yourself like that? this made him believe you have to be dumb.

against his own logic, he was just a guy who liked pretty girls and unfortunately for him, you were one of them. he would never make any move towards you, god, no. but he had eyes and you were indeed attractive. sometimes he wondered what it would be like to feel your body under his or what you would look like sitting on top of him.

he never expected to experience both of these things in a situation like this.

"chris?!" he hears your voice, shock written all over your face.

you are straddling him, blood flowing down your hand where you were clutching his ghostface mask. the thing he has been hiding under for a while now. the last thing he would have expected was that not only would he finally satisfy his deeply hidden fantasy about feeling your body against his in some way, but that you would also find out about his most hidden secret.

he was fucked.

panic overpowers all of his other senses as he looks at you. chris was always able to control everything, but not this. his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest at any moment. what's worse, despite this awful situation he found himself in, he felt his body reacting to your closeness, something that even he didn't expect, which brings him back to reality.

"get the fuck off me," he mutters, clearing his throat and almost making you fall when he starts getting up. you quickly compose yourself and stands up as well, taking a few steps back and holding his intense gaze.

you were unable to utter a word while he looked at your hand and then at his knife. that made him feel sick, cursing under his breath and wiping the knife on his robe before looking back at you.

"you're bleeding, y'know..." chris says, causing you to scoff. "no shit, sherlock," despite your shock and fear, you roll your eyes not wanting to give him the satisfaction of scaring you.

you look at your arm, touching the blood that was still oozing out. the wound wasn't large or deep, but enough to make you bleed.

"you cut my fucking arm."

"by accident," he mutters, then frowns. "you kicked me in the balls."

"by accident," you mock him sarcastically.

he shakes his head in disbelief at how, despite this situation and your obvious confusion, you still decided to talk back to him.

"what the fuck is this?!" you finally snap at him, pointing at his outfit and the mask in your hand, "you're dressing up as a ghostface and kill people like that? are you insane?!"

chris licks his lips slowly as he tries to control his own emotions and stay calm. he doesn't reply, what only causes the annoyance grow inside you, "i was aware you're fucked in the head, but killing people, chris?! and what, you came here to move me out of your way too?!" you-"

"jesus, shut the fuck up for once, can ya?! you don't know shit," he runs his hand through his hair, then getting annoyed at his gloves so he takes them off, throwing them on the floor. and he does the same with the rob he was wearing, now staying only in a black tank top and black pants. everything suddenly overwhelmed him.

"oh, i'm sorry, then maybe explain?" the evident sarcasm in your tone makes him take a deep breath. your eyes travel down his body before moving up to his frustrated face again. he sighs, taking a step closer and snatching his mask from your hand, putting it on the desk.

"first of all," he starts a bit calmer now, "as i said, i fuckin' hurt you by accident, so this gotta be taken care of..."

you scoff, "yeah, 'cause my arm is the most important thing here. besides don't act like you care, when you're here trying to kill me—"

"i'm not tryin' to kill you, for god's sake!" he snaps back at you again, moving around your room as if this could help him think.

this situation was terrible for him. out of all the people, you had to be the one to find out what he was secretly doing, which was putting him in some real danger. he believed you won't keep your mouth shut and he's gonna get probably arrested tomorrow morning, if he's lucky enough for you to give him one last night to sort things out. unless... he saves himself by sacrificing you, but that thought doesn't even sit right with him.

"oh, really? should i be thankful?" you roll your eyes.

"yes actually," the sarcasm in his voice only makes your anger grow, but you let him speak. "i don't wanna kill you. stop being an idiot."

"you're an idiot," you say offended, crossing your arms over your chest, causing a few drops of blood to fall on your shirt, chris's attention immediately caught.

with a roll of his eyes, he leaves your room confusing you, so you're fast to follow him. he had been to your apartment several times with his brothers on different occasions, so he knew how it was arranged. he quickly finds himself in the bathroom, starting to look for the first aid kit, while you stand in the doorway with a frown.

"what are you doing?"

"told ya, that cut needs to be taken care of," he mutters finally finding what he wanted, and turning around to face you. "sit your ass down."

but you just scoff, not moving. in a few steps, he's in front of you, trying to uncross your arms, but you almost jump away from him as if his touch burned your skin.

"so fuckin' stubborn," he sighs, holding out his hand so you could grab the first aid kit. "do it yourself," surprisingly for chris, you comply and take it from him, walking into the bathroom and starting to clean up your wound.

the bathroom remains silent for a moment, until you speak up again, "if you're not gonna add me to your list of people you've killed, then why are you here?"

"i don' have a list," he frowns, now leaning against the bathroom counter with his arms crossed, watching as you clean up the blood on your arm. "m'here 'cause i left you a gift."

the death stare that you give him in the mirror makes him stop with the jokes. he just didn't know how to cope with this situation, he was never good at dealing with things seriously.

he clears his throat, while you bandage your arm, "i was just supposed to give you the phone and leave unnoticed once you shower or somethin', but you pissed me off with your tough girl talk. so i had to make an appearance."

you turn around to face him and lean back against the sink, mirroring his position. "and why did you give me that phone?"

"i told ya already, didn't i?" he raises his eyebrow, "so you could delete this fuckass video your stupid ex recorded. and there was also some... extra."

"some extra... you mean that video with an apology?"

chris responds with a nod at your question. there were so many questions swirling around in your head, that you didn't even know where to start. you also knew that you had to choose your words carefully, so as not to scare him but to find out as much as possible.

"why don't you wanna kill me?"

"you suicidal or some shit?" he can't resist making another joke, but the look you're giving him makes him add, "do i have a reason?"

"do you have to?"

"yes," he says simply, not intending to make your little 'investigation' any easier. he was curious what other questions you'd ask him.

"i never gave you a reason?" you ask skeptically, making chris smirk.

"oh, you did. multiple times," he replies bluntly, giving you goosebumps at the thought. "i don't touch women like that."

"like that?"

"y'know i usually make them scream with pleasure, not fear."

you stare at him, blinking slowly before grimacing with disgust, making his grin widen. "oh my god, ew," you shake your head, pushing yourself off the sink and going back to your room, followed by chris. "remind me, why do i even have this conversation with you?"

"'cause you're a curious little fuck," he replies, watching as you walk towards your desk and grab his ghostface mask with curiosity written all over your face.

"so you don't kill women?"

"no."

"why not?"

"i answered that already."

"i'm asking seriously."

"and i responded seriously as well," he leans against your desk beside you, taking the mask from your hands, catching your attention back at him. "men are dickheads, so i'm only makin' them suffer."

"oh, and you know this from your own example?"

chris has to take a deep breath to keep from wiping that stupid smirk off your face. "yeah, i'm a dick, a'ight," he replies with an overly nice tone, before rolling his eyes. "but there are worse people than me."

you just eye him up and down, the skepticism visible in your expression again, while you take a few steps back from him, not liking how close you two were for a moment.

"wow, a killer with manners, who would've thought," you mutter under your nose. you could have sworn the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement, but he quickly hid it.

it's not like you thought he's the worst ever, but he definitely was one of the people you wouldn't want to be close to. you remember how when you first met him and his brothers, you tried to have a normal conversation with chris or get to know him better somehow, but he didn't give you that chance. he was nonchalant, selfish and unfortunately extremely handsome, which was making his ego bigger than his brain.

so with all of these reasons and the back and forth you two have going on, it was really easy for him to become the most annoying person in your eyes.

"so why did you kill jake?"

chris thought you won't finally ask that question you had on the tip of your tongue all this time, so he was happy to answer, "he was one of the dickheads."

"maybe give me more details, you idiot."

"y'don't need more," chris rolls his eyes. "we both know he was an asshole."

despite your reluctance, you had to agree with him, but one thing was still bothering you. chris helped you with jake and his friend at the party last night and now your ex was dead. so this made you think...

"did you do this for me?" you ask, but he just raises an eyebrow, scanning your face for a moment. the smirk on his face doesn't match the boredom you hear in his voice when he finally speaks up, "why would i? not everythin' is 'bout you, princess."

his words stir conflicting emotions within you, and for a moment the room remains silent with a strange, awkward tension.

"enough with the questions," chris says clearly fed up with your curiosity. "he deserved it, that's all."

"you think he deserved to die?"

this one sentence makes something in chris switch, and you see his bored expression turn into annoyance really fast, but not the one he always gave you when you two had the back and forth, but the one that told you that you really, really pissed him off.

he's quick to get closer, backing you up against the wall and getting you trapped between it and him. for some reason your heart starts racing, but you weren't scared at all.

"you ain't gonna be the one to call me out on shit, actin' like you give a fuck 'bout this idiot' death." he hisses through gritted teeth, "you didn't even cry. i see no sadness in your goddamn eyes, so stop pretendin' like i just didn't do you a big fuckin' favor by killin' that douchebag."

the feeling of being exposed like that arises within you, "you don't know how i feel—"

"oh please," he scoffs. "you aren't even mad that i killed him. you wouldn't be doing this whole chitchat thing with me if you were."

seeing that you want to speak again, he doesn't let you and adds, "i've seen you mad, multiple times. i've been makin' you mad constantly. so believe me when i say this little pretty expression of your annoyed face isn't what i see right now."

pretty expression? chris almost frowns at his choice of words, but you don't look like you caught it, which makes him slightly relax.

or maybe you're just good at hiding things.

the feeling that you have to deny it, that you can't give him this satisfaction grows inside you, but you are unable to say anything, realizing that chris is right.

you didn't care about your ex's death. maybe you were that heartless bitch everyone thought you were, but they weren't the ones dealing with jake and his toxicity for almost two years, day after day. they didn't have to hear the disgusting comments, this possessive jealousy. they didn't have to ask their boyfriend for hours for a permission to go out for a drink with your bestfriend, and when he finally agreed, getting a text every ten minutes accusing you of cheating on him and ruining your evening. they didn't have to experience the feeling after finding out that he was fucking a new girl behind your back, then begging for forgiveness just to do it again after a while. you were the one who experienced this and how you feel now is solely your business. no one else's. you didn't even admit to emma that you don't care about jake's death.

but chris knew.

"fuck you," you finally say without breaking eye contact. he lets out a low, mocking laugh, and points his finger at you, sticking it into your shoulder.

"you're not better than me, so stop pretendin' to be." his gaze is so intense that you almost feel small. this has never happened before and it makes you feel something...strange. "n'believe me, better for ya if you keep your mouth shut."

"or what? you gonna kill me?" you scoff, making him almost lose his mind.

"this is just a good advice."

you roll your eyes, still holding your ground, "wow so nice of you, really."

he looks at you, breathing heavily, and only then you both realize how close you are. he's pinning you against the wall, your faces are millimeters apart, both of you unaware that your hearts have just sped up at the same moment.

"i ain't jokin', princess," his voice barely above a whisper, but still intense with a mix of anger and... something you weren't able to name. "if you even try to say anythin', you're fucked."

"now you're threatening me, huh?"

despite your strong personality and the fact that you still acted all tough, you had to admit that at that moment you realized that you got yourself into a really bad situation. not only did you find out something you shouldn't have, but assuming of his reactions, chris hated you even more now.

"told ya already," he tilts his head to the side, and for a split second you could've swear his eyes dropped to your lips before moving back up. "it's just advice. from a good heart."

he waves the ghostface mask in front of your face and adds, "this? this ain't your business at all. you know what you know now, but you won't do shit 'bout it. y'know why?" he remains silent for a moment.

"'cause ya care 'bout your little friend. emma, right? and emma's with matt," he moves closer, whispering in your ear, a strange shiver runs through your body. "and matt knows 'bout everythin', sometimes even helps when shit gets bad. if you'll try snitch on me, you'll do the same to him, not only losing him as a friend, but also breakin' emma's heart." he pulls back to look at your shocked expression, the smirk back on his face, "would be a shame, don'cha think?"

you freeze, staring at him blankly and trying to process everything he just told you. his stupid smirk only made you feel more uneasy, but it was just a facade, there was still that irritation in his eyes.

chris was really desperate to make you to keep quiet. he didn't wanna do anything to you, but you were really dangerous for him now, especially with the hate you feel towards him.

"you're lying," you finally choked out, making him amused.

"oh, am i? or you jus' tryna make yourself feel better?"

"you're telling me matt knows?" the room is quiet for a moment as you two hold the eye contact, then chris responds with a nod.

"he found out himself. nick doesn't know," he anticipates your upcoming question. "and that's how it supposed to be. no one can know shit. you get me?"

you didn't know what to do but you nodded anyway, which surprised him that you complied so quickly. not that he's complaining, but you always put in more of the fight first. he scans your face, you could feel his breath on your cheek, that's how close you two still were.

"y'scared of me or some shit?" you frown at his stupid question and quickly say, "no."

but it was too quick.

"no?" he repeats mockingly, raising his eyebrow. "no," you say again, trying to sound convincing, but he just grins, throwing his mask away and taking the knife out of his pocket. you had no clue when would he even put it there, but that makes you gulp loud.

"good..." he clicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek, "s'good, y'know... means that you won't be scared if i do this..."

the moment he brushes your hair away from your face with his knife is causing your body to shiver again. you stand there, still trapped between chris and the wall, looking at him with wide eyes while he looks like he's having the time of his life.

"...or this..." he mutters, now brushing the hair off your shoulder, exposing your neck, and using the non-sharp side of the knife to run it down your skin to your collarbone.

the way your body started reacting to chris and his movements was completely unexpected for you. yes, you were practically frozen, but not from fear of him. it was because of what you felt at that moment. it was as if all your senses came back and helped you realize that your panties were sticking uncomfortably to your slickery folds.

he made you wet.

you were fucking turned on by all this talk, his closeness, the way he was pissed off at you and now touching you with his knife.

you prayed that he was unaware of what was happening to you. however, chris had his experience with women and the way you stay silent while he literally has his knife on you, definitely made him think. with your attitude, you would've pushed him away already and started yelling at him. but you were just letting him do it.

he wet his bottom lip with his tongue, looking down your body and back up. unfortunately for you, he noticed how your thighs were pressed together. his mind spinned.

"you, uh..." he tilts his head to the side, watching you closely. "this shit like... turns you on or somethin'?"

"what?" you choked out, the panic in your voice is telling him enough.

"oh, shit," chris laughed in disbelief with a raised eyebrow. "y'really are fuckin' crazy, huh?" his knife travels down between your breasts to your stomach. "what exactly is it, hm? the knife? the ghostface mask? me?"

you swallow and the moment his knife stops above the waistband of your sweatpants, you grab his wrist. "what?" he asks, "don't want me to find somethin'? it'd be fair like this, y'know... you know my secret, i'll know yours..."

his eyes flicker between your lips and eyes and it doesn't go unnoticed by you again. chris himself wasn't really sure what he was doing. the thought of you being affected by him like this was almost... unreal. he was intrigued. curious.

"bet you're soaked..." you cut him off, the desperation clear in your voice, "shut up."

"oh, she speaks," he says sarcastically, looking down at how tight your grip was on his wrist, your knuckles almost white, he smirked wider. "you might need a little help down there. don't ya think?"

"what?"

"you heard me," after these words, the silence between you grows with unexpected tension. the effect he had on you made you shiver, something that may have always been in the back of your mind but you never let come to light.

however, this time your control was weak and slipped away completely as your grip on his wrist loosened and you pulled away your hand, giving chris the answer he needed. you saw that he hesitated, but finally moved closer and pressed his lips into yours.

it took you a few seconds to even understand what was happening. then with a little nervousness you kissed him back. the feeling of you giving in to him made the slow, hesitant kiss suddenly more intense, his tongue running over your lower lip, as you felt his hand on the back of your neck.

kissing him was so much better than you could've imagined. not that you did...maybe a few times... maybe. probably by accident. yeah.

his lips were strangely soft for someone who was such a dick. you can hear the faint sound of the knife falling to the ground, then a moment later feel his hand on your hip, your fingers tangling into his hair. such nice hair.

he was completely lost in how good it felt, each second deepening the kiss, your tongues dancing together. then you feel his hardness against your thigh and despite your own need, it reminds you that it's chris you're kissing. the same chris who is always annoying you, is a nonchalant asshole and is someone you hate.

so you break the kiss, your hands slide down to his chest and gently push him away.

chris takes a step back, looking at you through half lidded eyes. both of you panting, the eye contact full of lust makes you immediately regretting what just happened.

"we shouldn't..." you mutter, the annoyance flickers in his expression for a moment at your words, but he hides it. "could've think of that before you kissed me back," at his answer, your cheeks creep up with heat.

he's never in his life seen you blush before. he hates himself for thinking you looked... cute.

"why the hell would you even do that?" your confusion makes him scoff and now he pulls away completely. "i can ask you the same thing," chris wasn't gonna let you blame this on him only.

you say stubbornly, "you did it first."

"doesn't matter," he mutters annoyed. "you kissed me back. y'want my reason? then tell me yours."

you seem almost offended by his words. he wanted a reason? you couldn't give him any, at that moment you couldn't think about anything other than the ache between your legs and his closeness. and you couldn't admit that kissing him and more, was something you thought about sometimes when you were lying alone in your room in the middle of the night.

"there's no reason," you mutter finally, getting another scoff in response.

"of course," he rolls his eyes. "s'whatever anyway. not like it was supposed to mean shit."

that kiss definitely didn't mean anything, you didn't even care. you both got carried away and did something you shouldn't have done.

but the fact was, that you both did like the kiss, and you were both turned on at that moment. he was angry with himself for even thinking about doing something about it, for you both to—

you, on the other hand, got scared how real it was getting when you felt his boner against your thigh. it freaked you out, that he was the one to made you wet, and that you wanted him to help you out.

chris could see it on your face now, the annoyance at yourself that he was turning you on, which made him pissed off for some reason.

"yeah, just moment of weakness," you cross your arms across your chest, looking away, almost trying to escape the intensity of his blue eyes.

he stares at you for a moment, clenching his jaw, "definitely. s'not like i want you anyway."

your gaze immediately comes back to him, feeling the anger bubbling up inside you while he grabs his stuff, shoving the knife into his pocket. "yeah, your pants tight?"

he huffs at your blunt sarcasm, "your panties wet?"

the look you give each other is so sharp you're sure it would cut through the air if it could.

"fuck you," you say. chris grins at that, though it doesn't reach his eyes, "bet you wanna."

you had to clench your hands into fists to hold yourself back from grabbing something and throwing at him, "really i do not."

"right," he nods, walking towards the door. looking over his shoulder, he shows up the ghostface mask, "one word 'bout it and s'gonna be bad for ya."

"just fucking go already."

and he does. not even a minute later you hear the front door slamming shut. you're fast to leave your bedroom and go lock them, making sure he actually left.

you stand there for a moment, resting your back against the cool wood, running your finger across your lips. then you grimace at the discomfort you felt between your legs, desperate for friction.

"what the actual fuck?"

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @sturnioloslutttt4 @fratbrochrisgf

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 MID DAY NAPS WITH DAZAI!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai does not nap. he hardly sleeps in general. so how is it that he's dozing off in your lap like this? you're a witch, he's decided. there's no other logical explanation. (wordcount: 800ish; sfw; fem!reader, mentions of alcohol & sleeping pills)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: very short & sweet but i toldddd you guys that i had a dazai nap time drabble in the works. i love my naps, so that means i obviously have to do nap time with all of the favs. perhaps i'll do jouno next. or maybe there's someone u guys want.

Dazai doesn’t sleep well. He never has, and he’s certain he never will. The only time he can manage to get some semblance of sleep is when he’s taken a few too many sleeping pills or he’s drank himself to oblivion. It’s unfortunate, but it’s a fact of life, and he thinks that he’d prefer to stay sleepless anyway if it means he can avoid the memories that plague his dreams.

Dazai can simply not remember when the last time he willingly slept was, which is why he’s so confused now, head resting in your lap, eyes heavy as he looks up at you. He can hardly hold them open, he can feel himself falling asleep and he’s alarmed because he does not sleep unless his body is drugged, drunk or dying.

“What kind of spell have you placed on me, bella?” Dazai says through a yawn—he yawned???

“What do you mean?” you ask quietly, fingers still carding gently through his hair as you look down at him, brows furrowed. 

He wants to reach up and rub out the wrinkle between your eyebrows but his arm feels too heavy. A part of him wonders if he’s dying, but he supposes if this is how he’s meant to go out—laying in your lap with your fingers brushing through his hair, staring up at your pretty face beneath the afternoon sun—then he couldn’t ask for a better death.

“‘m falling asleep,” he murmurs, and his voice slurs a bit over the words. His eyes feel even heavier, drooping shut as he tilts his head to the side to make himself comfortable on your lap. 

You giggle lightly, and Dazai swears the sound is angelic. “‘cause you’re so sleepy, obviously,” you say, a teasing lilt to your tone as you bring your freehand to his face to trace his cheekbone.

“I don’t sleep,” he protests weakly, leaning into your touch. 

He thinks that before he met you, he might not have ever experienced a gentle touch in his entire life, and now he simply cannot go without them. He craves them at every waking moment and gets severely distressed when he cannot obtain them. But only if they’re from you—the thought of anyone else touching him the way you do makes his skin crawl. Your touches make him feel vulnerable in a way that’s dangerous, and you’re the only person he trusts enough to see him that way.

“Everyone sleeps, silly,” you disagree softly, and Dazai wants to protest, to tell you how significant this is, but he can’t find the words. His mind feels muddled and hazy as exhaustion creeps through his bones and claws at his chest.

He supposes he doesn’t really need to tell you anyway, you probably already know—you always know somehow. You can always figure out when he’s having one of his bad days, no matter how hard he tries to hide it from everyone. You can always tell when he needs a break from everything, even when he tries to mask it with smiles and jokes. You can always tell when he’s sick of playing the role of a clown to make people overlook all of his faults and darkness, and you’re always there to be an escape for him. 

It used to be scary—he’s never had someone that could pick through all of his masks to see through his emotional state, his real one. A part of him wonders if it’s somehow a secret part of your ability but he knows it’s a ridiculous thought, because there’s no explanation for how you can do it whenever he’s laid up in your arms or draped all over you, which is 99% of the time he’s with you.

It used to be scary (emphasis on the past tense) but now, he thinks it might be a bit comforting to know that you’re always there and you know what he needs even when he himself doesn’t know. You’re like a buoy in the middle of a raging sea, a lighthouse shining through the dark. he hasn’t had someone he could genuinely rely on in… a long time, and even then…

Dazai lets out a puff of air, eyes finally sliding shut as he all but melts into you with your hand cupping the side of his face and your thumb caressing his cheek and your nails gently scraping his scalp. He thinks he might be in heaven—he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve it, to deserve you, but he’s a selfish bastard at heart and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you go. 

The last thing he feels is your lips ghosting his temple before he finally dozes off. He sleeps peacefully for the first time he can remember. 

[chlix]

juno

bf! minho x fem! reader: you have baby fever. your boyfriend wants to be with you forever. turns out you can kill 2 birds with 1 stone

genre: fluff, crack, suggestive (MDNI, explicit dialogue)

word count: 3.3k

warnings/tags: pregnancy scare, jokes about a breeding kink, marriage proposal, y/n is a little spoiled i gotta admit, this one is all over the place ya'll

a/n: minho's fic in my album series! this one is based on "juno". y/n is a LOT in this one but i found it way more fun and fitting to the song to write her that way rather than actually being down to earth and reasonable lol

You’re out at a mall with your friend Jia, having a lazy day shopping and eating overpriced food from the shops in the central plaza. It's been a while since you had time to bum around with her, and your boyfriend, Minho, had said he'd drive you there and take care of his own errands while he waited. He'd even handed you his second credit card and told you to get whatever you wanted, much to Jia's amusement. You wish you were more put off by him flaunting his money, but unfortunately you passed that point long ago. It's also due to the fact that his money is much appreciated at this point in your life. Currently, you’re a bit of a NEET; after you had to quit your last job, you’ve been doing little except sitting at home, attempting TikTok recipes, doing housework and fantasizing about having things like hobbies and life goals aside from marrying your boyfriend.

“That’s nothing new for you, though,” your friend Jia says. “You inherited the suburban princess aesthetic from your mother.”

“You say that as if we weren't raised on the same street” you say, words thick around the spoon of froyo in your mouth. “We’re both suburban princesses.”

Your eyes roam around the mall, people watching as you often do. Next to the frozen yogurt place you had just visited, there is a mother with her small toddler at the counter. The mother is stylishly dressed, in cute jeans and a red sweater, and her daughter matches perfectly in a tiny little red turtleneck and a corduroy pinafore press. She’s wearing little charms in her hair and has a backpack with a bunch of dangly charms that jingle as she fidgets. She is eyeing the froyo on the counter with big eyes as she waits for her mother to pay for it, ever so patient and polite. The cashier waves at her and the toddler waves back.

“Stopppp, look at them. Isn’t that girl so cute?”

Jia follows your eyeline to the mother and daughter at the froyo counter.

“She is. I love how her and mom are matching.”

“I can’t wait to have a little mini-me that I can wear matching outfits with.”

“You and I wear matching outfits all the time.”

“Yes, but I want to do it with someone cute.”

Jia’s eyes roll so hard that you know it must’ve hurt.

“Since when do you want kids, y/n?”

“Since always. Or I don’t know. Maybe I just was worried that it would be difficult? Or that I’d never find the right guy? But I think Minho would be a good father, so it’s kind of made me think about it again.”

“He seems like he’d be good with kids.”

“When we babysit my nephew, he’s really good with him. And he’s always been so attentive to me in everything, so I just know he would double down during pregnancy. He’d take bullets for me. He’d protect me, he’d bring me all my favorite foods he’d take care of me-”

“He really should be doing that all the time, not just when you’re pregnant. Like, what kind of cavewoman logic is this? Are you in heat or something?”

You take another bite of your froyo and savor it.

You’ve known Jia forever, and at this point her comments to you about your love life just go in one ear and out the other. She’s the one who introduced you to Minho, actually, so you’d thought maybe she’d spare you the lectures, but she seems to think your impulsivity would overrule Minho’s common sense. This isn’t you being impulsive, though. You’ve actually thought about it an embarrassing amount- the concept of Minho fathering your children. It’s not just some passing fancy.

When you’re thoroughly done enjoying your vanilla-passion fruit swirl, you deign to answer her.

“First of all, shut the fuck up. Second of all, no I’m not in heat. Is it so wrong to dream of motherhood? To yearn for something to care for?”

“You have three cats and seven potted plants.”

“I mean something that can love me back.”

“I’m telling Dori you said that.”

You ignore her, already lost in your little domestic fantasy. You could already imagine it. You could have a little girl who looked exactly like you. Or maybe just like you with Minho’s pretty eyes. You’ll develop all the “mom skills”, like sewing and kissing boo-boos and making baking soda volcanoes. And Minho would be there, giving her piggyback rides and pushing her on swing sets. He’d call both of you his “princesses” and you could take cute family photos for Christmas and mail them all your relatives. A perfect domestic life.

“Hello? Earth to y/n?”

You blink. Jia is looking at you with an exasperated expression.

“I’d ask you what you’re thinking about, but I already know.”

“Oh, really.”

“You only get that stupid expression on your face when you think about Minho.” Jia crumples up her trash and reaches behind her to throw it in a trash can. “Does he know you are having delusions of domesticity?”

“It’s not delusional. We’ve been together for like two years. We’ve talked about the future.”

“So he wants kids?”

“He wants whatever I want,” you say, and you can hear the lovesickness in your voice even before Jia lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Go ask him to get you pregnant right now then. He seems like the type to think that’s really hot.”

“Everything I do is hot. I’m a catch. I’d look extra hot pregnant. Working so hard even when I’m just sitting around all day.”

“Your favorite activity.”

You wink cheekily. “Of course. You should give it a try sometime.”

“Give what a try?”

A familiar voice from behind you makes you perk up. You whip around to see your boyfriend in the flesh, coming up behind you. He’s finally arrived. His presence improves your mood by approximately one thousand percent. You can sit up straighter and breathe deeper. The sun shines brighter on your face. His pace is so leisurely that it’s driving you mad. You want to stand up and drag him closer to you, so that as much of you is touching you as possible. The meter between you feels like a nautical mile.

Christ, maybe you are in heat. You think it’s possible you’ve been permanently ovulating since you met Minho. Just seeing him coming has you contemplating breaking several civil laws.

Jia rats you out immediately. “We’re talking about pregnancy.”

“Oh.” Minho stops where he is, as if blocked by an invisible wall. “Is someone you know expecting?”

“Not yet,” Jia says.

“Jia,” you hiss.

Jia ignores you, revenge for forcing her to listen to you for the past half hour.

“Y/n thinks that pregnancy suits her lifestyle. She thinks she’d look hot pregnant. What’s your opinion on the topic?”

“Don’t answer that,” you tell him. “Jia, come on.”

Jia shrugs. “I don’t think it’s that crazy of a question. Your boyfriend should think you look hot all the time.”

“And I do,” Minho interjects, smiling slyly. “Especially right now, as you’re staring daggers at me.”

Jia leans up and stage whispers to Minho, eyes still trained on you. “She specifically said ‘extra hot’, just so you know.”

“I struggle to think she could get any hotter,” Minho says in answering stage whisper. “She’d look equally pretty frozen solid, or zombified.”

 “You know the saying is ‘until death do us part?’ You don’t have to keep loving her as a zombie.”

You try to be annoyed but you’re too busy cheesing for it to have any effect. “Okay haha fun’s over. Take me home now.”

Jia boos you as Minho grabs your hand to help you off the bench.

“As you wish,” he says, and kisses your hand with a flourish.

“I’ve gotta get going too. See you later, y/n.” She stands up and grabs her bag, then pauses and turns back. “If you’re pregnant the next time I see you, I will kill you.”

“You seriously give me no credit.”

Jia gives you an absolutely withering look and walks off.

“I shouldn’t have even brought it up,” you say mournfully. “She’s gonna start keeping tabs on me.”

“We’ll lock our doors and windows,” Minho says, and presses a kiss to your hair. “Home?”

Later that night, you’re lying on the couch searching up pictures of baby clothes. You have an entire Pinterest board for your future baby, and today’s scene at the park has inspired you to add to the collection. You scroll through little images of kids in duck outfits and Hello Kitty themed socks, of cute little barrettes to put in their wispy bangs. Your kids are going to be so well-dressed. They’ll make the other toddlers at the daycare jealous, and maybe even the moms too.

That’s good, though. It’s important to learn how to deal with adversity from a young age.

Your daughter is gonna be so well socialized and assertive and thick-skinned, just like her parents. She’ll get such good grades and be very polite. And you’ll get to show up to parent teacher conferences as the hottest mom in the entire class, which will be good for your ego, and then you can pass that confidence down to your child. It’ll be perfect. Your life will be perfect. You can see it in such clear and vivid detail.

Minho passes by you on the way back from the bathroom and glances down at your phone.

“Baby clothes?”

You blink up at him. You’re not embarrassed at being caught, but you are a little annoyed that he’s interrupted your daydreaming with one of his gateway questions.

“Yes. Our future child has to be up on fashion trends.”

“The fashion trends will have changed by the time you have a baby to dress up.”

To your own surprise, your heart actually stutters with the reminder that you are currently not, in fact, with child.

“Don’t remind me,” you whine, rolling over to hide your face in the cushions. “Jia already lectured me today.”

“Lectured?”

You partially roll back over to look up at him. “She says that I’m being delusional for wanting a baby so badly.”

“How is wanting to be a mother delusional?”

“Right? And I told her like what are you talking about, we’ve already talked about the future, and we’re gonna have kids, and she just gave me this look.”

“Jia’s just looking out for you. She doesn’t want you to rush into things.”

“Jia is a cynic and a skeptic. She thinks we’re too young to have a baby.”

“Well, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” Your visions of being a MILF dance through your head. “I think having kids young would be cute.”

Now Minho looks skeptical. “Really? Since when.”

“Since I had a paradigm shift. I always knew I wanted them, in a vague sense. But now I know that I want to have them with you, specifically, so it’s been on my mind a lot more.”

“You want to have my kids?”

You bristle. “Well they’d be my kids, too, y’know.”

“I know that-”

“And who else’s kids would they be? Do you envision us breaking up?”

“Absolutely not,” Minho says. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

“Right. So then eventually I’ll be having your kids. I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

Minho sits down next to you on the couch. “That’s really what you want?”

“Yes?” A single pang of doubt flashes across your chest. “Do you not want that?”

“No, I do, baby. I’d love to have a family with you. I just want to be sure we’re on the same page, and we’ve thought it through.”

“Well, like you said, we’re still young.” Jia’s admonishment of not being married flashes through your mind. “But sometimes I see little kids in public, or on TV, and I think, God, I want a baby so bad. Y’know? I want to be pregnant. I want to glow like that, and everything.”

Something complicated passes over his face. A lightbulb goes off in your head. It’s the same expression that he had when Jia had mentioned to him the topic of your conversation.

“Oh my god. You actually do think I’d look hot pregnant.”

“Didn’t I say that at the mall?”

“No, you were teasing me. But now you’re being for real. You want to knock me up.”

Minho says nothing, but the tips of his ears redden. You shoot upright, delighted at the turn of events.

“Oh my god, you actually want to knock me up!”

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

“No! Of course not. I want to be the only girl you want, and I want you to want me in every way.”

“Well you are, and I do,” he says flatly. “Congratulations.”

“Congratulations is right,” you say. You’re giddy with energy. “Have you thought about it a bunch? Is that why you wanted me on the pill? So you could cum in me and indulge your breeding kink?”

“I don’t have a breeding kink.I just love you. There’s a difference.”

“You’ve said at least five times today you think I’d be hot while I’m pregnant,” you remind him. “Seems kind of breeding kink-ish to me.”

“You have spent the entire day fantasizing about having my kids. That’s the definition of a breeding kink.” Minho leans further into your space, and though his words are teasing, his tone is decidedly not. You feel heat start to run through you, and not from embarrassment. You scoot closer to him, pulled by magnetic forces beyond your comprehension.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just life planning. I’m making vision boards.” The lie is so flimsy your lips trip as you try to say it.

“Uh-huh. Right. Because you normally start breathing heavy when you make vision boards.”

“This is unfair. Of course I’ll get turned on when you start talking like this.”

“Like what?” he says, leaning even closer. You can feel his breath on your face, and a shiver goes down your spine.

“Like you’re going to fucking breed me.”

His smile is absolutely feline. “That can be arranged.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Baby, I want whatever you want.”

You grab onto his shoulders, tight. “Then take me to bed, hot stuff.”

His eyes darken. A hand comes up to your face, and he kisses you gently. He grabs you by the hand…

and of course, he gives you what you want.

Your period is a week late.

It’s actually Minho who notices and points it out, which causes you to freak out and call Jia, who freaks out worse than you and demands that you go to the store immediately and buy a test. You get three different brands, and also an entire chocolate cake which will either be for congratulations or for emotional support.

Minho waits outside the bathroom door, an encouraging presence as you try to calm yourself down enough to read the labels.

“Whatever happens, I’m here,” he tells you. You can’t tell whether he wants it to be positive or negative. You aren’t even sure what you want. Yes, you want a baby, yes, babymaking sex is hot and you want to keep having it whether it gets you knocked up or not, but you’re both still young, and he has a career, and your apartment doesn’t have a third bedroom so there’d be nowhere for the nursery that you’ve already meticulously planned out in your mind-

The timer goes off. You open your eyes and look down.

“Negative,” you say, loud enough for Minho to hear outside the door. “All of them.”

Minho doesn’t say anything. You let out a deep breath, tension falling out of you, and open the door. Minho is on the other side, expression cautious.

“Is it bad that I’m a little disappointed?” he says, and his tone is joking but the words stick in your chest because you agree. The relief you expected to feel is nowhere to be found.

“I hope not, because that makes two of us.”

He draws you into a hug, and you sink into him, processing all the events of the last hour.

“And I was all ready to start building a crib.”

You snort. “Picking up carpentry as a hobby?”

“A real father should work with their hands. I need thick, callused hands to hold my baby with, so they feel smaller and daintier by comparison.”

“Wild thing to say, honestly.”

“It works on you.”

You break free and shove him playfully. “You’re ridiculous. You’d be a good father even with your soft city boy hands.”

“You think so?” he says, his tone heavier than before. You don’t even hesitate.

“Yes. Any child would be lucky to have you as a father.” You sigh dramatically. “Unfortunately it seems my uterus didn’t pull through this time.”

Minho is silent for a moment. “Well. We could…try again.”

You stare at him. “Sorry?”

“I mean, you said I’d be a good father. You said you wished the test was positive. I want that too. Just because it didn’t work this time doesn’t mean that-”

“Wait. Wait wait wait wait. Are you serious?” You’re gob smacked. You can’t believe that your usually cautious boyfriend is proposing you have a baby right now.

“I’m serious,” he confirms. “You’d be such a good mom. And I know how much you want this.”

“And you think I’d look hot pregnant.”

“Obviously,” he says, without a hint of jest.

“But I’m- we’re so young, and I’m unemployed, and-”

“Sorry, were you planning on getting a job any time soon?”

Your cheeks heat up. “Oh shut up.”

“No, it’s perfect. You can be a loving stay-at-home mom. I’ll be the breadwinner.”

“Stop it. Stop talking this way. You’re- do you know how pissed my friends would be? What would I tell Jia? She almost bit my head off over the phone earlier, did you hear her? She was so pissed that I was thinking of motherhood instead of marriage-”

“Then let’s get married.”

“Don’t start.”

“Y/n, I’m not joking.”

You actually think you’re going to faint. Your heart is racing and you’re breaking out in a sweat. Is it hot in here? Did you forget to pay the AC bill this month?”

“Are you proposing to me right now?” You’re trying to joke but you’re breathless. “You’re proposing to me as a gimmick to get me to bear your children?”

Minho cringes. “Saying it like that makes me sound manipulative.”

“It’s kinda manipulative.”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to be married before having kids. And I want to do both of those things with you eventually, so why not now?”

Your vision is blurring. For a moment you worry you actually are fainting, but then you realize that you’re crying instead.

“Stop playing with me, Minho, I’m so serious.”

“I’m not playing with you. I actually already bought a ring, but I didn’t know if the timing was right. Like you said, we’re young, and I didn’t know how you felt about getting married so soon. So I thought I’d ask eventually but-”

You lunge forward and kiss him. If you’d felt stressed earlier while taking the test, that’s nothing compared to the depth of emotion you’re feeling now as you hold each other. It’s like joy is filling you up so much that you don’t know where your body behind and ends.

When you finally separate, Minho asks,

“Is that a yes?”

“You’re not proposing to me in our living room,” you tell him. “You have to ask me again. Later. Don’t even show me the ring. Wait, what color is it? You know I only wear gold.”

“You think I’d forget something like that? I’m going to be your husband. I know what jewelry you wear.”

If he wasn’t holding you up, you think you’d actually collapse to the ground from the way you absolutely swoon.

“Propose to me again and I’ll say yes. Right now, I need you to put a baby in me.”

“You want to walk down the aisle pregnant? Your dream wedding dress has a corset.”

“Oh my god, we’ll do it before I start showing, just fuck me, please!”

Minho doesn’t make you ask a third time.

[avelera]

Re-watched Captain America: Winter Soldier and First Avenger (in that order lol) and hey guys

Remember that time Steve woke up in New York City 70 years later and panicked, thinking he was in HYDRA hands and haha, actually it turns out, he kind of was??

Also remember that bit where he found out in the most deadpan way possible (thanks Nick) that everyone he had ever known and loved was dead or aged to to the point of death in the blink of an eye, and no one ever actually like, gave him a moment's sympathy for the fact his entire world ended in a split-second of self-sacrifice that ended up just being one battle in a war that never ended?

Remember when he found out that the only person left who loved him, Peggy, only occasionally remembered him in moments of lucidity haha and then it turned out that the only other person who still lived and who loved him, Bucky, also only remembered him in moment's of lucidity?? Good times, good fucking times, I'm an emotional wreck about it

And one last thing, because I will never ever fucking ever let this grudge go, remember that time Tony fucking Stark who I mostly love but in the context of Steve Rogers specifically I want to tear him to shreds, decided to have beef with a literal traumatized 20-something year old war veteran whose entire world just dissolved into nothing in the 70 years he was on ice, and Tony fucking Stark decided to pick a fight with this guy and rag on him 24/7, despite being in his 40s himself and completely comfortable, stable, and with insane levels of wealth and privilege, because his fucking dad who has been dead for decades apparently loved this guy more, something that would have bewildered Steve who like, barely knew Howard outside of work, and that Steve had fucking nothing to do with Howard's neglect of his son because it all happened while he was unconscious?

Don't even get me started on Civil War, we will be here all day in how these supposedly equal sides weren't even slightly equal in morality or logic at all, but I will die on the hill of Tony fucking Stark was being a Grade A fucking asshole for his stupid man-child fight he picked with Steve Rogers when you actually objectively view Steve's life story as a human being instead of a symbol that he was literally forced to be

Whew. Ok. I'm ok now.

...

AND ANOTHER THING...!

[freewayshark]

Have a little post 8.05 bucktommy ficlet

I love him.

It’s ridiculous, the way that thought flutters into his head and alights on a branch, there to stay.

Evan stands in front of him, covered in boils and eulogizing a dead gunslinger that maybe—but probably not—but maybe gave him those boils, and the only thought running through Tommy’s head is I love him.

And it’s ridiculous, because of said such eulogizing of dead gunslingers, and also the fact that barely more than six months ago he couldn’t have picked Evan out of a lineup.

But when has love ever tried to follow the path of logic? And who is Tommy to stand here listening to kindness pour from Evan’s lips for a man that Wikipedia tells him wasn’t so great of a guy and maybe potentially gave Evan boils of all things, and not admit that he’s been falling right in love with him all this time?

Evan finishes up with a plea to remove the curse, and Tommy echoes it, can’t help the feeling that it’s just smart to cover his bases even if he’s still at least a solid seventy-five percent sure curses aren’t real, and then he’s chasing after Evan and pinning him to the passenger door of his truck.

“Wha—” Evan gets out, but then Tommy’s cradling his jaw, mindful of the boils, and he’s leaning in, capturing his mouth in a hungry kiss.

He loves him. Tommy loves Evan. No point in denying it, not when he thinks this was the inevitable conclusion of meeting him. To know Evan is to love him.

But he’s not going to say it. Not yet, anyway. He’s going to leave it to simmer in his chest for a while. So he pours it into his kiss instead. He won’t say it, but he hopes Evan feels it anyway.

Evan looks dazed when he pulls back. “I wasn’t actually upset, when I said you wouldn’t kiss me. I wouldn’t wanna kiss me like this, either.”

Tommy strokes his thumb over Evan’s cheekbone. “You think a couple of boils could scare me off?”

Evan’s teeth dig into his bottom lip as he fights a grin. “Nah,” he says, and there’s something in it that is so decisive it nearly takes Tommy’s breath away.

He shakes it off. Drops his hand from Evan’s face to open the truck door for him. Maybe leans in the cab to kiss him one more time for good measure, and if he does, well, who’s to say?