#i bet this gonna flop but anyways

[heibon-hiroo]

Been feeling nostalgic for wolf's rain

[clairedaring]

MING + 'home'

MY STAND-IN (2024) | 1.02 // 1.03 // 1.04

[girldadbuckley]

emotionally pained by the gifset i just finished ohhhhhhh guys

[bkgml]

I desperately need a part 2 to the head scratching obsession katsuki has with a few different scenarios preferably MAYBE reader scratches his head w her pretty nails while there hanging out w friends and he’s trying SO HARD not to let them see him fold 😭

OHHHHHHHH YESSSSS

car ride

i’m thinking of u and katsuki sitting in the backseat of a car idk who’s driving maybe it’s a bakusquad road trip and everyone else is asleep

(except kiri who has his eyes locked on the road)

and it’s getting super late but youre still a couple hours from the hotel.

i’m thinking it’s like a van situation and u and kats are in the back back bc kats hates having eyes drilling into the back of his skull.

and you can tell he’s getting super sleepy but he keeps saying he’s fine and he can wait until you’re out of the car.

i’m thinking you’re leaning up against the window with your legs in his lap and his body keeps deflating with tiredness and eventually you just tug at his arm and open yours in invitation.

he huffs but flops down onto your lap anyway but he’s still frowning as if it’s the biggest inconvenience in the world.

until he feels your heavenly nails graze his scalp, sending full body chills through him causing him to nuzzle into you and groan lightly.

it doesn’t take long for him to still, falling into a deep sleep.

and just know he’s going to be annoyed to the max when you get to the hotel. grumbles that you should just sleep in the car.

drunk

you’ve been at the club for 3 hours now, you’re dancing with mina and you look real sexy. if only it wasn’t so late. katsuki is dead tired and is ready to just flop into bed.

“bro take a shot, you look like you’re gonna fall asleep at the table.” kiri advises before downing three shots with denki.

“bullshit.” katsuki murmurs.

“why not bro? you’re not driving.” sero says with a hint of malice in his tone, stuck being the DD for the night.

“whatever. just order more shots.” katsuki groans.

****************************************************

“katsukiiii!” you cheer, skipping over to him giddily.

“that’s not katsuki anymore, yn. thats BIG KB!” denki cheers, earning a groan from mina.

“what is that stupid ass nickname.” she says, rolling her eyes.

taking a closer look at your boyfriend he does seem a little out of it.

“what’s the matter… big kb?” you tease, grinning.

you’re only a little tipsy. mostly high on life of the dance floor but sober enough to think straight.

“had some drinks.” he murmurs, fingers reaching over to rub against your cheek.

you pause, slightly stunned at his words.

“wow.. did you lose a bet kats?” you question, leaning into his touch.

he shakes his head, frowning at you thinking he would ever lose a bet to the idiots.

“nah he was just a sleepy guy, weren’t ya?” denki teases, pinching katsuki’s arm.

katsuki frowns, shrugging denki off.

you giggle leaning closer to katsuki.

“you a little tired, suki?” you whisper to keep the conversation private.

he frowns, offended.

“no? could stay here all night.” he mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

you make a ‘really?’ face at him.

he scoffs. as if you don’t believe him, ridiculous.

“go back out and dance.” he says, nudging you away softly.

you hesitate, wanting to settle down for the night yourself now.

katsuki’s so cute when he’s drunk, you just want to be at home with him.

“guys we’re actually just gonna uber home right now, but this was super fun.” you say smiling and katsuki frowns deeply.

the four had moved onto another conversation while you talked to katsuki, their attention now turning to you and your boyfriends big frown.

“wow, getting lucky tonight bakugou?” denki grins.

katsuki wraps an arm around you as if to protect you from his words.

“we’re not even going home, shut it.” he grunts.

you turn your head to look at your boyfriend.

“yes we are.” you say gently.

“no.”

“katsuki, yes.” you say firmly.

“no.”

you feel frustration bubble up in your head but push it down in favour of sneaking your arm behind katsuki’s head, fingers dancing on the very back of his neck.

“no. not this shit.” he groans, but doesn’t move away from your touch.

“shhhh, let’s go home big kb.” you whisper into his ear.

your hand toys with the hairs at the back of his neck before snaking up from his neck to the crown of his head, causing chills to spread throughout katsuki.

he groans deeply.

“fine.” he grits out between his teeth, refusing to look down at you.

“ha! did you see that mina?! did you see-“ denki gets cut off at katsuki shoving him off his place on the booth, making denki tumble onto the floor so you and kats can get out.

[charliemwrites]

Bark bark bark awoooo

No content warnings

You’re gonna fucking combust.

Somehow, someway, this is Johnny’s fault. You’re not sure how yet, so he it isn’t fair for him to be in trouble, but you know it.

“This is your fault,” you tell him, pouting in bed — bare ass naked, but that means nothing to him, he’s a dog. He cocks his head, and you wave your (broken) vibrator at him. “I don’t know how, but it is. Is this because I wanna chop your balls off?”

His mouth closes, eyes big - like he actually understands you. In your horny delirium, you almost believe he really does.

You flop onto your back with a sigh, eyes a little wet with frustration.

It’s been two months since you last successfully got off. Your vibrator (and its replacement… and its replacement’s replacement) keep breaking, or running out of battery. The plug is defective or falls out of the socket.

Once you successfully got right to the edge - just for it to die. You almost did cry that time.

Sure, there’s your hand. But every time you try ol’ reliable a certain four-legged roommate interrupts one way or another. And when you tried to kick him out of the room, and then ignored the howling, scratching, and general drama - there was loud and rapid knocking at your door.

Like fucking clockwork. If you get anywhere at all, you never get to finish.

It wouldn’t be so bad, either. Your libido isn’t anything crazy, you don’t think. At least it wasn’t before. But now there’s Soap.

Soap who you should not be so attracted to. Who has no sense of propriety or boundaries, who murmurs the dirtiest things to you in the most public and otherwise mundane places. And he just keeps. Showing. Up.

Like he’s got a tracker on you or something. (You’ve checked, he doesn’t.)

He’s like every guilty fantasy you had as a good, studious girl back in high school. The kind of guy to grab your thigh under your parents’ dinner table and take your virginity in the back of his car. Maybe corner you by the lockers between classes to kiss you silly and drive up your absence record.

You never actually went for those boys — and perhaps gratefully, they never went for you. In romance novels, it would be a quaint little coming of age story. The stuff to swoon over. But reality was a lot scarier for you, especially with your older sister always keeping an ear out to report back to your parents and… well, yeah.

You’ve always been a firm introvert, anyway. That’s why you live out in the woods with only a dog for regular company.

But Soap. Soap is some unholy amalgamation of those innocent, shy girl fantasies turned R-rated. Like the grown-up version of those cute YA novels.

And you have no defense for it — except distrust, that is.

Soft-hearted as you are, you know you don’t do casual well. And you know that guys like Soap just like to spin you up and up until you finally give in, think the dreaded words “maybe it’ll work out” despite that rational voice in your head saying, “don’t bet on it.”

Doesn’t stop you from secretly wanting him though.

Fear is the only thing keeping you in check now. Some of it for you own feelings; of getting invested in a guy that has done nothing but treat you like a prime cut of meat. The rest of it is a genuine concern that he might be a bit dangerous. He’s so much bigger than you, visibly stronger. Has gone out of his way to make you uncomfortable (doesn’t matter that a very dark and slutty part of you liked it) and ignored your attempts at brushing him off.

Fear, unfortunately, is beginning to add to the temptation.

“I’m not going to do it,” you tell yourself, or maybe Johnny. Soap’s contact is on the screen. You don’t remember putting it into your phone, but you must have at some point. “Nope. No way.”

You slide a sideways look at Johnny, tail wagging at a steady clip.

“He’s probably a former frat boy or something, right?” you muse.

Snort.

“No, you don’t think so?” you question, sitting up. He happily crawls into your lap when you pat your thighs, chin resting on your tummy. “Nah, you’re right. Could almost imagine him beating the hell out of one for pissing him off.”

A little grumbly noise. You smile and start petting absently over his head and ears, phone forgotten now.

“This is dumb anyway,” you sigh, head tilted back to the ceiling. “You don’t like men. I couldn’t bring him back here.”

Johnny’s ears flick. You giggle and start flopping them around, making airplane noises. Eventually he huffs and starts licking at your face until you stop, complaining that you’ll need to wash off now.

—

“Fuck it.”

Johnny picks his head up, staring at you as you run a hand down your face.

“Fuck it all. I’m going to a bar. I’m getting… I dunno. Laid or something.” Thank god it’s only Johnny here. You don’t think you could live with the embarrassment of someone else hearing the way you talk.

You set your hands on your hips, nod to yourself.

“And if it happens to be Soap, then… sign from the universe, right?” You grimace a bit, striding for your bedroom. “Please don’t let him be a murderer or something…”

For once, Johnny is perfectly behaved as you get ready. He doesn’t try to lick at you when you come out of shower (freshly shaved and lotioned and everything). Sits patiently on the bed as you pick through your closet, even noses at a pretty pink dress you rarely wear but were considering for this.

He doesn’t try to bump your arms or hands while you do your makeup, just watches attentively. You choose a pretty, matching bra-panty set, apply a light spritz of perfume. Hesitate over jewelry.

“Is it normal to wear jewelry when you plan on fucking?” you wander allowed.

A little “boof” from the bed. You’ll take that as a yes.

You decide on a set of faux pearls with a gold heart pendant in the center. Not quite a choker, but high enough on your throat to suggest one. A delicate bracelet, a pair of stud earrings, and you’re just about set.

“Christ, I hate doing this alone,” you mutter, fumbling with the zip on the back of the dress.

Lastly, the shoes.

“Fuck it,” you say again. Your mantra for the evening, apparently. Wobble into a pair of heels, a bow on the outside of each ankle where you buckle them.

You pause when you’re done, giving yourself a once over in the full length mirror. Pleased with what you see. Coquettish and pretty, not necessarily bombshell sexy maybe, at least not on first glance. But the necklace, the heels, the cutouts at the waist of your dress… it’s all exactly what you wanted.

“Alright,” you breathe, tummy swooping with excitement. “I can do this… right?”

Johnny’s gotten down off the bed, is keeping a respectful distance. You appreciate it, don’t want to have to lint roll hair off yourself.

“Oh, god. What if he’s bad?” You ask, giving him a horrified look. “What if he’s been, like, compensating?”

To your shock, he stomps his paw and starts damn near howling. Carrying on and on like he’s bitching you out. You blink in shock, almost laugh — then check the time.

“Oh! Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you starve!”

You toddle off to the kitchen and prep his dinner, scrunching your nose at the raw chicken and beef liver. He grumbles and fusses the whole way, making you laugh as you pretend to have a whole conversation about the economy with him.

“Okay, bonnie Johnny,” you coo, setting his bowl down. “Be good, okay? If I bring someone back here please don’t eat them, okay?”

More grumbles and whines and growls. You roll your eyes, blow him a kiss, and slip out the door.

You tell yourself you just need action with someone. Don’t admit to yourself that there’s really a specific someone you’re hoping to see.

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[moonlightspencie]

“good morning, baby” : “leave me alone to rot” // james potter. as a treat.

thank you for my man ☝🏻😚 i just read a best friend!james fic so… romantically charged besties it is

pairing: james potter x gn!reader (and a little bit of wolfstar because they’re collectively babygirl)

warnings: none

send valentine’s day drabble requests

You walked into James’s apartment, not caring that it was still early. You had a breakfast planned with Remus and Sirius, and you’d be damned if James was late again. Besides, he’s the fool who gave you the spare key.

You bounded into his bedroom, walking right up to his sleeping form and brushing a hand on his shoulder.

“Good morning, baby,” you cooed mockingly, kissing his cheek. “Time to get up. The boys are expecting us.”

“Leave me alone to rot,” he mumbled into his pillow.

You rolled your eyes, ripping his blanket off, causing a loud whine in protest from the man.

“You’re being dramatic,” you huffed a sigh.

“Don’t wanna be around Sirius and Remus on Valentine’s day. They’re gonna be all mushy,” he complained, squinting at you with bleary eyes.

“And?”

“And I’m single! It’s stupid!”

You rolled your eyes again. “So am I. Get over it. At least we get to do something fun today.”

He grumbled to himself, putting his face back in his pillow. You all but jumped on his back, speaking in his ear.

“If you get up now, we can come back here after breakfast and hang out all day. I’ll buy you chocolate and everything.”

You saw him smile a little despite himself, though he tried harder to hide his face.

“Not the same.”

“I’ll give you one kiss if you’re really good.”

He fell silent for a second, then glanced at you over his shoulder with a poorly concealed smile.

“Two kisses.”

You raised a brow. “You’re getting greedy.”

He turned over quickly, and you flopped onto the mattress next to him as a result. He smiled down at you.

“You spoil me. It’s your fault.”

You scoffed a laugh. “Get up and get ready or you get zero.”

He hummed for a second, then quickly pressed a peck to your lips. He jumped off his bed, yelling over his shoulder as he did.

“That one didn’t count, by the way!”

You finally got to the restaurant with James hanging off your shoulder as you sat across from Remus and Sirius. They spoke quietly to each other, but neither of you really noticed, lost in your own little world.

“They’re worse than we were before we got together,” Remus whispers into Sirius’s ear. “And that’s saying something.”

“Bet you they’re together by the end of this year,” Sirius said with a mischievous smirk.

“What do you win if they do?”

“…a kiss?” Sirius offered, as if it wouldn’t happen anyway.

“Two kisses,” Remus bargained

“You’re on.”

[callsign-rogueone]

resson (garrick's version)

Garrick Tavis x reader a Garrick and Angel chapter! I need to re-number these at some point, but this happens between 1 and 2 — some of the events at Resson, and them going back to Aretia. written in Garrick’s pov, since Angel isn’t exactly conscious at the moment... words: 2.9k 🏷️: fourth wing spoilers, major character death, canon injury, allusions to hypothermia, writing as Garrick is hard but I tried, poor boy isn’t sure she’s gonna survive this (we know she does, since I wrote this out of order, but still), he takes good care of his girl, Sweetheart makes an appearance along with Darling Spark and Love, somewhat proofread but not really. I’m sorry this took me so long, but here it is. better late than never?

There’s a red dragon lying on the ground, wounded. It’s either Cosa or Deigh, but I can’t tell from this far out. Deigh, I realize when I’m close enough to see his horns, and he isn’t moving. If he’s dead, then Liam only has a few minutes left.

I make the jump too quickly, scrambling to get my feet underneath me, but I’m too late. Liam’s gone. His girlfriend is sobbing into his shoulder, Bodhi attempting to soothe her through his own tears. He has one arm held to his chest, the other rubbing her back gently. 

But there’s a second body slumped against Deigh’s side, and my heart nearly stops when I realize who it is. 

“Angel,” I breathe, kneeling down beside her, brushing my hands over her cheeks. She’s cold to the touch even in the July heat, her head lolled down onto her chest and her body completely limp, but she’s still breathing, thank the gods. I couldn’t bear to lose both her and Liam on the same day. It would destroy me. 

A quick inspection and confirmation from Tab tell me that she’s not wounded — a few scratches here and there, and some tender points that will be bruised tomorrow, but nothing major.

“She tried,” Bodhi tells me quietly. “There was nothing she could do, but she tried anyway, and…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, knowing that I can see it as well as he can.

I’ve seen her drained before, completely exhausted after a long day mending in the infirmary, unsteady on her feet and ready to flop facedown onto my bed and sleep it off, but this is several steps past that. It’s clear that she’d used absolutely everything she had in trying to keep Liam and Deigh alive, and I don’t know how long it will take her to recover. 

If she does recover, I think for a single second before crumpling the thought up like a piece of parchment and shoving it deep, deep down. She’s going to live. She’s going to recover. She has to. There is no way that the two of us could ever be separated like that. 

I have to do something, but what? Is sleeping it off followed by a giant bowl of pasta going to be enough this time, or does she need to see a healer? Could the healers even fix this? Is there a cure for burnout other than rest?

“The Lieutenant Colonel would know. He’s a mender as well.” 

Brennan would know. Him or Colonel Colbersy would be the best bets — but the idea of taking her back to that hellhole school right now is enough to light my blood on fire. Graduation is in less than a week, and I know they aren’t going to give her any time to recover before they transfer her across the continent to gods-know-where and expect her to start working.

I hook an arm under her knees, another behind her back, lifting her up from the dirt and gathering her into my lap. She’s too drained to speak, to open her eyes, but I feel a little flare of recognition from her as she leans into my chest — she knows it’s me. She’s still in there. 

I tuck her head into my shoulder, stroking a hand over her disheveled braids, because that’s all I can do right now.

Our little sister has silently slotted herself between me and Bodhi. She leans her head against my shoulder, sniffling quietly. She looks unharmed, but there’s dried blood coating her nose and upper lip, and her cuticles are shredded; she’s been peeling them since we left the school, as a nervous habit. Something’s bothering her, but I haven’t had time to ask what — though I have a suspicion that it has something to do with that little joker in Violet’s squad.

And now this. Liam had become her best friend, the first person her age that she was truly comfortable with, and now… I put my other arm around her, squeezing gently. She’s trembling, crying as quietly as possible — even in a situation like this, she doesn’t want to make a sound.

“I’m so sorry, kid,” I say softly, as if that will make it hurt any less.

She leans into me a little further. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” I promise her, “She’s gonna be fine in a day or two. She just needs rest — you know how it is.”

I pray to every higher power that exists that I’m right — that Angel will be fine, that our sister won’t lose yet another loved one. She’s finally coming out of her shell, starting to let people in, but I’m afraid that losing Liam might send her right back to square one: the girl I’d met six years ago, who was too scared to speak. I didn’t hear her voice for a week and a half — only timid nods or shakes of the head for yes or no questions.

My eyes widen as I see Xaden approach, a limp-looking Violet in his arms. She’s wheezing, black blood trickling from a wound in her side.

“It has to be poison,” Imogen reasons, sounding more torn up about this than I thought she’d ever be. “Look at it! We have to get her back to Basgiath. Nolon might be able to help.”

“That’s a twelve-hour flight.” Xaden’s voice rises. “And I’m pretty sure her arm is broken.”

Is she going to make it that long?

“There’s somewhere closer,” he says quietly.

“You can’t be serious,” Ciaran interrupts.

“You’ll put everything at risk,” I warn.

Tairn roars in dissent.

“I wouldn’t say that again,” Imogen mutters, “or he’ll probably eat you. And don’t forget, if she dies, there’s a damn good chance Xaden does, too.”

“I’m not saying he shouldn’t, just reminding him what the stakes are.”

“I don’t give a fuck what happens to me!” Xaden yells. “We’re going, and that’s an order.”

Bodhi agrees without protest. “No need for orders, man. We’ll save her.” 

“You’re sure about this?” Imogen asks.

“Stop fucking asking him that,” I snap without thinking. “He made his decision. Support him or get the fuck out, Imogen.”

“And it’s a bad one.”

Bodhi turns his head to glare at him. “When you have a hundred and seven scars on your back, then you get to make the fucking decisions, Ciaran.”

Rocks crunch under a pair of boots as another of our friends approaches. She looks utterly defeated — her face, neck, and hair are splattered with wyvern blood, and the makeup she’d so carefully applied for the Reunification Day party is running in dark trails down her cheeks, her eyes swollen and red from crying. She’s unusually quiet as she speaks. “X is right. We need to lie low for a few days — get our wounded help, and…”

And bury Liam. Her little brother. 

A wave of guilt floods through me. I had been too focused on Angel to fully process the fact that Liam, Xaden’s little brother, who may as well be mine too, is gone forever. We have to bury him tomorrow. I’ll never hear him laugh again, never receive another one of his little wood carvings… Oh, fuck. Sloane. She’d been counting down until her conscription day, when she could see him again, but now she never will. 

“It’s settled, then,” another soft voice says — Bodhi’s wife. “We’re going home.”

Nobody dares to disagree with her.

I give our sister one last gentle squeeze before I rise from the ground, Angel in my arms, and carry her the hundred yards to the rest of the riot, who have been keeping watch over us.

Tab lowers his head, mournful and dejected. He must regret not cutting her off, blocking her out from his magic before she overdid it. She’d never forgive him if he had interfered with her efforts to save Liam, but if he had, she might still be lucid. 

It’s absolutely terrifying seeing her like this. 

Chradh nods in understanding before I can ask, lowering himself flat to the ground so I can climb up while still holding her. I know it’s a major no-no for a dragon to bear anyone but their rider, but all of ours understand the gravity of the situation — a few of us aren’t in condition to fly, and will need to double up with someone who is.

She’s still freezing cold, and I know that the altitude and wind on our flight home won’t help. I sit her up in front of me, removing my flight jacket one sleeve at a time. 

It’s like dressing a doll — she’s completely pliant in my arms, and I have to keep moving her to get the jacket on, guiding her hands through the sleeves and buttoning it closed on top of her own. I pull her goggles up so the wind won’t hurt her eyes, and turn her head to tuck her face into my neck. 

Chradh wraps an invisible band of power around us to help keep her in place. 

“Just hang on for me, Angel,” I murmur, my lips brushing her hairline. “We’re taking you home.”

———————————————

Every step up the staircase sends a wave of pain up my left leg. I fucked up my knee in my running landing, too panicked to think straight once I realized that one of the dragons was wounded so severely.

I can worry about myself later. Right now I need to get her in bed, and prepare her for Brennan’s assessment.

My magic works to open the doors here, too, so I don’t have to worry about dropping her while I get us inside. I sit in my desk chair and prop her up in my lap, the wood creaking under our combined weight. 

I get her out of my flight jacket, then hers, and assess the state of her base layers. I decide to get her out of her leathers, at least — those are terrible to sleep in, and she’s always been picky about “outside clothes” on the bed. 

She was cold to the touch even with the extra layers, but without them I realize exactly how icy her skin is. I leave her with shorts and a tank top, but I pull back the bed covers with one hand and lay her down, piling her with blankets to make up for the loss. As soon as I drape them over her body, I’m rewarded with a small sign of life — she burrows deeper into the covers, seeking warmth.

Maybe warming her back up will be enough to get her lucid again, like this is some kind of hypothermia. But how did that happen? It’s July, the warmest part of the year across the whole continent.

I drag my desk chair over to the edge of the bed, taking a seat. It’ll be a while yet before Brennan can check on her — it’s going to take a small miracle for him to get the poison out of Violet’s system. 

She’s turned her head away from me, so I occupy myself with fixing her braids. They’re undone in places, big strands pulled out by the wind. I untie the leather band at the bottom, setting it on the nightstand and gently undoing the plaits. 

I’ve been practicing, but I’m not skilled enough to do the style she usually wears. I settle for detangling as best I can with just my fingers, and gathering it all into a low ponytail. It’s a small comfort to see her looking less disheveled. This way I can almost pretend that there’s nothing wrong, that she’s just taking a nap in my bed on a winter afternoon, piled up with blankets. 

“Can you ask Tab to keep an eye on her while I shower?”

“He won’t be taking his eye off of her anytime soon.”

If Tab can still feel her, that’s a good sign, I guess. I’ll take anything normal as a good sign right now. I cast one last long glance at her before I slip into the bathroom, keeping the door open just in case.

I look like shit after nearly two full days of flight and combat, but a shower and some real sleep should help. The water here is warmer than at Basgiath — though that’s a very low bar — and the pressure isn’t terrible. It’s almost nice. It would be a welcome reprieve, if I wasn’t so worried about her and Violet and all of our friends. I’m pretty sure Bodhi broke an arm back there, and our sister looked so shaken… she’d disappeared as soon as we got home. I need to check on her in the morning.

I haven’t heard anything from the bedroom, which is either a good sign or a bad one, but when I peek my head out, I can see the pile of blankets still rising and falling with her slow breaths. I dry off as quickly as I can and begin the search for clean clothes.

My old pajama pants are loose enough to accommodate the extra inches I’ve put on my thighs in three years as a dragon rider, but I can’t fit my arms through the sleeves of the first shirt I find. I make a quick modification with one of my smaller knives before tugging it over my head and settling back down beside her.

There’s a soft knock on the door.

Brennan looks absolutely exhausted, but he waves a hand at me in dismissal as I rise from the creaking desk chair and offer it to him. Stubborn fucking Sorrengails. 

He examines her for a minute, his eyebrows drawn together the way I’ve seen them when he’s looking over a battle map as he checks her pulse. Her breaths become even slower as he wraps his hand around her wrist, her body relaxing. 

“How long has she been like this?”

“Since we left Resson,” I answer. “She didn’t wake up on the flight.”

He blows out a breath. “I can fix the smaller stuff, but I don’t know what made her this way. I’ve seen burnout before, but this isn’t it.” He pauses, and his voice is strained as he continues. “It’s like she siphoned half her life away to try to save him.”

I can’t help but wince, knowing how his friend had done just that in the battle of Aretia five years ago — only Naolin had given up not just half his life, but the whole of it. And him being reminded of that on the day that he’d finally reunited with his little sister, who is currently residing on Malek’s doormat… 

I break the silence after a moment. “She’s not a siphoner, though. She’s a mender, like you.”

“That explains it, I guess. The loss of Deigh’s power is what ended Liam’s life, but we can’t mend magic. There’s nothing she could have done, but she kept trying anyway, and it was too much for her.”

Again, he sounds pained. 

I tread carefully with my next question. “Have you seen it happen before? A rider lose their dragon?”

“Yes. I tried as hard as I could to save her, but it was futile. I felt utterly useless.”

“How long did it take you to recover?”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t need to. I was fine, just a little shaken.”

I exhale. “She’s always had issues with her signet. It’s easy for her to overwork herself, but I’ve never seen it this bad.”

He lets go of her wrist, setting her arm down gently, and I hear a soft sound of discomfort leave her lips. Why is she in pain? He’d just mended all of her visible injuries away, and I didn’t see anything under her clothes when I’d gotten her into bed. Maybe it’s the sudden cold — being mended always feels warm, and she’s still freezing.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” I say softly. “Thank you.”

He nods, looking ready to head up a flight to his own room and collapse.

The sun has set, the warm dusk we’d landed in now replaced with dark night, and I’m absolutely exhausted. I lift up a few of the half dozen blankets, slotting myself in next to her. My entire body relaxes as soon as I’m horizontal on a real mattress, the pressure taken off of my legs. 

She curls into me with a soft sigh, and it takes an effort not to flinch at how cold she still is even through the layers of blankets, but I wrap my arms around her, trying to warm her up. “Angel?” I ask softly.

No response — not even a hum. How long is she going to be like this?

“I love you,” I say quietly, even though it’s doubtful she can hear me. “Get some rest, okay? You need to recover. You have to recover. I need you. We all need you.”

Another sleepy sigh as she shifts over a little, resting her head over my heart like she always does. It’s probably just muscle memory from sleeping like this every night for years, but part of me wonders if it’s her telling me that she loves me too, and that she’ll be okay.

“Sleep,” Chradh encourages. “We’ll watch her.”

I don’t respond, my eyes already closing. Shitty circumstances aside, it’s nice to be home again, curled up with her in my — our — own bed, away from the demands of that infernal school. 

We can sleep as late as we want tomorrow morning.

[staybabblingbaby]

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.1 (Dahlia) a2 d5

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 5,368

Notes: My friend Tiny said this was very Wattpad era of me, so I'm so sorry that I'm cringe, guys. She also said she loved it and I am also p satisfied w it, so. Celebrations! It's also fucking long for me, like damn. Chill. I do have some disclaimers abt this tho. 1) I have never been to a k-pop concert, I am doing my best working off of what videos, vlogs, blogs, and Quora and Reddit answers for this. I'm very sorry if it's horribly inaccurate. Also it's idealized so it'd gonna be inaccurate 2) Covid never happened in this universe! Send-offs for everyone!

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader, sort of dissociating? ish?

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

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“Yes, Ma, I promise I’m doing just fine,” You grunt into your phone, tucking the device between your cheek and shoulder as you juggle your groceries and try to dig out your keys, “No one has tried to mug me, I’m eating well, and the job is the same as the last time you called.”

You manage to both open your door and kick it shut as your mother replies, “I just worry about you dear. You’re so far away from us now, what if you need help?”

You waddle to your kitchen counter to offload your burdens, stretching your cramping fingers out as you go to properly hold your phone again.

“I know, Ma, but I’m sure I’ll make some friends with time and then they can help me out.” you finally reply with a sigh. You begin the arduous task of actually putting your groceries away, resigned to the fate of a functional adult.

You hear your sister bark out a laugh in the background. It’s possibly about hearing ‘you’ and ‘friends’ in the same sentence (Which, ouch. True, but ouch). You magnanimously ignore her.

“Honey, I love you, but it’s been almost a year. You have yet to tell me about a single friend.” Your Mom retorts. Again, ouch.

“I have Taylor!” You defend, slamming your fridge shut with a pout.

“Your roommate doesn’t count!” Your little sister taunts from the background. You hear your mother shush her but her agreement is implied when she doesn’t correct the little gremlin.

“He so does!” You argue, “We hang out in contexts that are not work or school, we eat meals together, and we’re even going to a concert this weekend! That’s friends! That’s best friends, even.” You sound a bit pathetic even to yourself, but the day your sister wins over you is the day you die.

“That’s a friendly roommate,” Is your sister’s amused response, “I bet you don’t even know what his favorite color is.” Your silence is answer enough, and she cracks up, laughing so hard that you hear a muted thump as she falls off of whatever furniture she’d been occupying.

Guess you’re dying today.

Your mother changes the subject to the goings-on of your hometown while your sister asphyxiates in the background. You’ve only been away for a little under a year now, but as you listen to her talk about which of your littlest cousins are starting school and which of your relatives are causing drama, you realize that it’s already been a little under a year.

You flop onto your couch as your mom babbles away, holding back an existential crisis.

Your fingers begin tracing the long-since memorized lines of your soulmark over your clothes as you ponder the passing of time, fully zoned out of your mother’s gossip. Your sister seems to catch on to your long silence, interrupting you mother to pester you into giving her more material to taunt you over.

“What concert are you going to, anyway?” She questions.

“Oh, it’s a K-Pop group called Stray Kids,” You tell her. You can practically feel her interest shrivel up and die as soon as you say K-Pop, bless her elitist, snobby, little heart. “Taylor likes them a lot, and his boyfriend dumped him last month, so I got some good tickets to cheer him up.”

Your mother coos at you briefly before your sister overtakes the conversation again, “Are they even good?” You can hear the sneer in her voice as she falls into Music Snob (tm) mode, so you roll your eyes when you reply.

“They’re fun to dance to when I’m doing chores, so that’s good enough for me.”

“You can’t even understand them.” She complains.

“I can, actually.” You inform her primly, “My language elective was Korean. I took the whole course.”

“You’re a weirdo.”

“Tell that to my sweet, sweet, degree, kiddo.” It’s finally your turn to taunt.

“Whatever, you’re not even going with a friend, just your roommate. How fun could it be?” She pouts back.

“I told you, we are friends! Best friends, even!”

“You still don’t know his favorite color.” She retorts smugly.

“I know his favorite flower, that’s gotta count for something!” Your mother hums in agreement, and you picture her watching your bickering like a tennis match, assigning points in her head.

“It doesn’t, because you know everyone’s favorite flower! You know the mail guy’s favorite flower! It’s like an obsession.” You picture your sister rolling her eyes at you, exasperation pouring off of her. The image makes you grin as you reply.

“Only if it’s still Jim. I haven’t been around to ask anyone new.” You point out. Reasonably, you think, but for some reason your sister lets out a loud groan of annoyance and you hear her exaggerated stomps ass she removes herself from your presence. Your mother lets out an amused little huff and you imagine you’ve won the tennis match in her head.

No death for you today. Score!

Your mom yaps with you for a little longer, before finally bidding you farewell, telling you that you should call more often (like you don’t chat literally every Friday afternoon like clockwork), tell your dad to come home soon if you happen to call him (you won’t. He won’t either), and tell her all about how the concert goes next week. You promise to do that one easily.

When she hangs up, you’re left with the ringing silence of an empty apartment. Moving to LA has been a quieter experience than you’re used to in general, for many reasons. Sure, the city itself is louder than your little suburb by miles, but life has been... More peaceful, since. Quieter.

It still makes you uneasy, even 10 months later.

You get up from the couch and drift off to your room like a ghost, opening Spotify on your way. The opening notes of Ruth B’s Lost Boy and a something nauseous swirling in your gut is all that follows you.

On concert morning, you’re woken up bright and early by your air-horn of a roommate slamming your door open.

“Concert daaaaaaaaay~” He trills at you from the doorway. You don’t even open your eyes when you roll over and throw a pillow at him in protest. A soft ‘oof’ tells you that you hit your mark for once. Nice.

“Nice shot!” Taylor cheers, “But now I have your ammo, so it’s up time.”

You roll over again, taking the edge of your blanket with you and tossing it over your head. You pull a stuffed animal under with you, and curl tightly around it.

“Nmf gmf.” You grumble at him through a mouthful of fluff.

“Nuh-uh!” Taylor tuts, already fluent in Morning Grumble, “We gotta get up. There’s food to be eaten, outfits to put on, and lines to beat!”

You let out a long, agonized, groan, but obligingly roll over and starfish out with childish protest. Taylor waits until you open your eyes to glare at his annoyingly cheerful blond bedhead before he leaves your doorway with a sunny smile. Smug bastard.

He leaves your door open too, the shit, allowing the sweet smell of french toast and eggs to drift into your room. You sit up with a whiney groan, scrubbing harshly at your face.

You’d forgive him this time. Just for the french toast.

You lean over to grab your phone from your bedside table, just waking the screen to check the time. When the numbers register you lay right the way back down with another long wail of protest.

Four in the morning. That french toast had better be fucking good.

You eventually stumble into the kitchen and are promptly handed a very large and very welcomed cup of coffee. Taylor hands you a plate piled high with french toast and eggs, fruits and toppings already out, before you can even try to start bitching at him.

You take in the spread with a furrowed brow, before slowly lifting your head to pin Taylor with a suspicious stare.

“My dude, it is four in the morning. How?”

Taylor just shrugs at you. “Couldn’t sleep. Too excited.”

You nod slowly at him. “I’ll drive. You’re napping in the car.”

This triggers a round of outraged whining from your sleep-deprived roommate, which you cull by pointing out that headaches and concerts are an awful combo. He subsides but insists he’ll be even more excited in the car, since it’s closer to concert time. You tell him to do it anyway.

“Why are we up so early in the first place?” You complain as you drain the last dregs of your drink. “The concert isn’t for, like, fifteen hours.”

“The concert is only fifteen hours away! Countdowns have already started, mark my words!” Taylor counters, “You got us Soundcheck tickets! VIP! We have to take advantage! I want the entire experience. Freebies, insane merch lines, sponsor booths, everything.” He gets more and more incensed as he goes on, leaning farther over the table, his shirt almost dragging in the puddles of syrup on his plate.

You raise your hands in surrender to his wild-eyed look. “Whatever,” You concede, “You’re the boss, this is your day.”

Taylor nods in satisfaction, leaning back. You notice that he actually does take some syrup with him as he re-seats himself. “As it should be.” Is his prim reply.

You sort of just laugh at him, and your routine of friendly bickering continues as the two of you make quick work of fixing up the kitchen.

You two split off to get ready, Taylor demanding a leave time of 6am sharp. You do your best to appease him, dressing up enough to say you put effort in, but paying mind to comfort over style. You’re putting the last touches on your eye liner when Taylor barges in.

You give him a stink eye for not knocking, which he blissfully ignores as he looks over you top to bottom. He summarily declares you “Good, but not good enough” and stampedes over to raid your closet.

At this point in your cohabitation you’ve learned to just let him do his thing when he gets like this. He doesn’t let you dress yourself when you go clubbing with his friends either, the jerk. Your fashion sense is perfectly acceptable, thank-you-very-much.

He tells you you’re being assigned a bias for today based on your wardrobe as he tosses you a white and navy stripped polo shirt and some navy sweatpants with racer strips on the side. He pulls up a reference photo on your phone and tells you to accessorize while he goes to find an appropriate tie from his stash for you.

Looking at the picture of Han Jisung on your screen, you admit that the outfit is pretty close already. You decide to leave the polo’s buttons undone, grabbing a white camisole to put on under. Your accessories take a bit longer, and you can’t see the shoes to match those, but Taylor seems satisfied enough when he comes back.

He hands you a tie and a handful of pins to complete your look and begins pushing you out the door before you can even put them on properly. When you protest this he insists that the two of you are running late, despite the concert still being more than 13 hours away.

You do, in fact, make him sleep in the car. He does not appreciate this, but early morning traffic can lull even the most dutiful of soldiers to sleep. He’s somehow even more chipper than usual when he wakes up, despite being groggy and bleary-eyed.

The crowd, when the two of you arrive, isn’t as big as you were expecting it to be. With all of Taylor’s rushing, you’d expected to barely be able to see the doors. The merch booth he was so excited about isn’t even open yet, and he settles the two of you into the line to enter the venue instead of camping there.

It’s immediately obvious who the extrovert between the two of you is, Taylor’s bouncy blond head beginning to duck and weave among the small crowd as soon as you claim your spot, laughs and excited exchanges popping up wherever he stopped. You, on the other hand, stay exactly where you’d been left and fiddle around on your phone, Taylor’s clear backpack abandoned in your arms.

You’re pretty sure this is purposeful on his part. You know each other well enough by now that he’s well aware of your tendency to stay planted once you’re settled. You’re definitely being used to stake out your spot. You steal one of his granola bars as payment for your services.

An hour or so drags through, and Taylor has thoroughly befriended most of the people around you. Once he’s decided that it’s about time to line up for some of the merch booths, Taylor leaves you in the tender care of the other fans as he goes to stake out a spot. He gracefully accepts both your wallet and your request of “a t-shirt and something they can sign”

The group of four people behind you, in particular, take his (only semi-joking) request of “take care of my introvert for me” seriously.

“So are you a Han bias?” One asks you as Taylor prances off. Her outfit is majority blue, little Bbokari (You can admit that the little characters charm you. You probably know their names better than the Stray Kids themselves) hair clips and keychains decorating her person.

You look down at yourself and then back up at her, almost having forgotten that you were dressed up as him. “Ah, no. Taylor, my friend, dressed me this morning. We’re here for him today. Though, he did say Han was my assigned bias today.” You laugh nervously, hoping they don’t judge your lack of knowledge.

Thankfully none of them seem discouraged by your response, giggling along with your little joke. In fact one of them, dressed head to toe in merch, seems almost excited by the prospect.

“Are you a baby Stay then?” She asks you with sparkling eyes. You wave your hands in front of yourself a bit defensively.

“Ah, no. I wouldn’t go that far. I like their music when Taylor plays it around the apartment, but I wouldn’t consider myself part of the fandom. This is actually my first k-pop experience in general.” You explain, “When I say we’re here for him, I mean I am here in total ignorance.”

Another girl, dressed in a loud assortment of colors you vaguely recognize from the music video Taylor had on loop in your living room for a week and a half when it dropped, lets out a low whistle. “Throwing you right into the deep end, huh? Hardcore.”

The group of you laugh a bit, the only guy in their group agreeing with, “Well if you’re not a fan now, you will be when you leave. Their performances are amazing, honestly.”

You absorb the gushing with an open heart, truly hoping for that to be the case. You take this opportunity to take the spotlight off of yourself.

“Oh, have you guys been to a Stray Kids concert before? It’s Taylor’s first.”

That question is the key to the floodgates, and you end up spending the next 3 and a half hours waiting for Taylor’s return (with text updates from the man himself, assuring you that he is still where he’s supposed to be) being regaled with tales of concerts, events, and comebacks past. You feel a bit like you’re getting a crash course in all things Stray Kids, phones often popping out to show you clips, fancams, and photos.

It makes you smile, feeling very included and welcomed as you occasionally pepper in a question or two to keep them going. It’s just like dinners at the apartment with Taylor, him unloading his stress through fandom, and you unloading yours through listening to his ramblings.

This is exactly why you came with him today.

Taylor makes his return loaded down with goodies both purchased and gifted by other fans, to which you welcome him by cheering loudly. This triggers your new group to do the same. Somehow, the five of you cheering leads to a large portion of the early crowd, which had grown by the hour, cheering with you.

You feel a bit shy at the power you apparently hold, and laugh about it with your new friends.

Eventually Taylor and Merch Girl (you hadn’t managed to catch any of their names, you realize belatedly. It’d be too awkward to ask now. You resolve to simply Not Address Them) split off to do more rounds among other fans, distributing their own freebies.

You hadn’t even realized Taylor had made freebies. You’re also not sure how he found the time. Love finds a way, you suppose.

The other group’s Token Guy Friend (who will always been Token Guy to you, so sorry Token Guy) passes the conversation back to you. Not appreciated, Token Guy.

You can’t be all that mad though, as he shuffles through his bag to produce a piece of paper and a chisel-tipped sharpie. He passes the items to you with a grin.

“If you’re close to the stage you should have a sign! You might get an interaction that way!” He enthuses. The remaining girls cheer at the idea, sighing over the possibility of you getting an interaction at your very first concert.

You hold back correcting them that it’s just your first k-pop concert. You’re sure that’s what they mean anyways, as the experience so far has been quite different from your usual.

You look at the items in your hand, and then back at him. He offers to let you use his back to write on. You once again stare between his meticulous outfit and the sharpie in your hand. You are so not going to ruin someone’s day with what was supposed to be a kind gesture.

You motion for him to wait a moment and dig around in your own bag for a moment, the seat cushion Taylor had insisted you bring slapping you incessantly from where it hangs as you shuffle both your shoulder bag and Taylor’s backpack around. Eventually you manage to pull out your travel first aid kit, pulling a gauze pad from it.

You unclip the seat cushion from your bag and place it on the ground, motioning for Token Guy to kneel. He does so bemusedly.

“I’m gonna make it fancy,” You inform him, “those random calligraphy classes from high-school aren’t going to fail me today.” He makes a noise of assent and you’re crowding over his bent back, unfurling the gauze pad to make a barrier between the paper and his shirt.

He and the girls make their conversation around you as you sink into concentration. It’s very difficult to make nice, even, lines on an uneven surface like a back, and you have to keep gently slapping Token Guy’s shoulder when he laughs to remind him not to move.

Taylor and Merch Girl have returned by the time you finish your sign, Taylor laughingly cautioning any of them from breaking your concentration for anything less than Token Guy’s health. Unless they wanted to face your Wrath(tm), of course.

His advice seems to have been heeded, because by the time you tune back into the outside world you have a sign with very pretty (and most importantly - legible) calligraphy that reads:

[HAN! You’ve been assigned as my bias today! Make me fall for you?]

You even took the time to add Korean translations in smaller script beneath each line. You also take the time to admire your own foresight for laying out the gauze pad, small black marks littering it’s surface. Token Guy seems equally impressed when he looks at it, before taking the initiative to trash both it and the wrapper for you.

Merch Girl reads your sign when you proudly hold it in front of yourself and cackles.

“So that’s why he really brought you along, huh?” She teases, elbowing Taylor like they’re old friends. He has that effect on people. “She can talk to them for you if the Aussie line isn’t around.” Taylor gives a sheepish laugh and a faux-guilty shrug.

“That, and she bought the tickets. I couldn’t leave her behind if I tried.” He pokes at you as he speaks, mirth dancing in his eyes. Laughter erupts around the group as you shout your offence, making to start roughhousing with him like you do your sister.

The time passes joyously this way until the doors finally open to begin letting people in for sound check.

You’re not gonna lie, you’re already super tired and peopled out. Luckily, Taylor had clocked you flagging before even you had, and sent you to sit in “introvert time out” on your cushion in a shaded spot away from the crowd. So you could make it through sound check and the actual concert. Probably.

You and Taylor pass through security unscathed, having already eaten or trashed any snacks or drinks you’d brought with you, and having not bothered bringing much else. Both of your bags were just full of merch and freebies at this point.

Once you actually enter the venue you take the lead, dragging Taylor by the wrist to your seats. You’re actually super excited to show him the seats you’d gotten, having kept anything beyond ‘soundcheck’ a secret.

Taylor is already vibrating with excitement as you lead him to the floor seats. He’s nearly trembling as you lead him right up the center, past rows and rows of little white chairs erected for the reserved seating tickets. When you finally sit him down right in front of the thrust stage, plopping into the seat beside him with satisfaction, he turns to you with saucer-wide eyes.

“Noo...” He whispers.

“Oh, yes.” You return, blessing him with a grin and little eyebrow wiggle.

Taylor basically tackles you in a hug, almost knocking you into the person next to you, and squeals his thanks so loudly that you’re sure the entire stadium hears. When he’s done thanking you he pulls back, hands on your shoulders, with the most deadly serious eyes you had ever seen on him.

“I would die for you.” He intones lowly. You crack first, the two of you breaking into a giggle fit that was almost concerning with it’s intensity. When the two of you calm down and turn to settle and sit properly, he nudges your shoulder with his.

“Seriously,” He says, eyes soft, “You’re the best ever. You need anything from today on? I’m your guy.”

You chuckle at him, nudging him back, “Do my dishes for the next month, then.” You tease.

He rears back, hands up in joking surrender, “Woah, woah! Let’s not go that far! I meant if you needed to escape from the mob or something, not chores.” He gives an exaggerated shudder before breaking into his usual silly grin.

The two of you spend the next however long indulging in familiar banter, waving at the group of fans you’d made friends with outside when you spotted them not terribly far away, and generally recharging your batteries for the concert. Taylor eventually moves on to talking to the people around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

You close your eyes for just a moment, trying to turn the lights off in your brain for a bit. You really needed the music to start soon, you were going to fall asleep.

Almost as if in answer to your prayers, the group begins trickling on stage for sound check.

To be honest, both soundcheck and the concert pass in a blur for you.

Once things kick off, you’re swept away in a wave of cheers, music, and lights. You hadn’t expected front row seats to be quite as intense as they were, but you made a note to yourself to not book such tickets for yourself in the future.

You couldn’t really handle it.

Still, Taylor seems to have the time of his life, and you manage to immerse yourself in the concert enough to shake your sign at Han when he passes by, earning yourself a wink and a cheek heart. Taylor was nearly euphoric at having caught the interaction with his phone camera.

By the time it’s over, you’re fairly sure you had a good time, but also 100% sure that you were completely overwhelmed. Taylor manages to drag you to the send off that you paid for spots at anyway. Curse his charming, sunny demeanor.

You can’t really process how it happened at this point, but you end up practically pinned to the railing of the barricade at the send-off location, separated from Taylor, and clinging to your façade of an excited fan with a white knuckled grip. You have three things on you to get signed, and a mission from Taylor to get all three scribbled on.

Your sign for Han, a ballcap Taylor had customized, and a Lee Know photocard Taylor had entrusted to you with a gravity you weren’t sure it warranted. He had, like, three of the same one.

You try to drum up the determination to see your mission through, but find it difficult to dredge up any will at all.

Time waits for no man, however, and soon enough the members begin making their way through, delivering high-fives, autographs, and aegyo as they pass through. You end up squished almost violently to the railing, ducking a bit and making yourself as small as possible as hands, phones, and items all get waved around and over you.

You’re not sure you like send-off.

There’s so many noises and sights and smells that you have a really hard time keeping track of which member is where. Plus, you’re still a lot overwhelmed from lining up before dawn and the concert itself. You’re tired, you’re cranky, and you want to go home.

At some point Lee Know must pass by you, and you must have presented the photocard properly, because you have a signed one now. That’s cool. The faster you get the requested autographs, the faster you can leave.

Bangchan spawns in front of you from the aether, from your point of view. You may be a bit more out of it than you’d like to admit. Still, you dutifully hold out your ballcap for him to sign, exchanging post-concert niceties on pure autopilot.

Because you’re not all that present at the moment, or maybe because all you’d had was your breakfast and some granola bars in the last 13 hours, you don’t hold your balance the way you should when someone shoves at you from behind. You catch yourself on the railing, but you dropped the freshly signed cap.

Bangchan kindly stoops to pick it up for you, and you thank him. A couple of things happen very quickly at that point.

1) Unlike the first two exchanges of the cap, because of the awkward and quick nature of Bangchan’s action, it is no longer being handed to you with lots of space between your hand and his.

2) You’re still being jostled around. No matter how much you brace for the impact of the bodies surrounding you, you couldn’t possibly keep totally still.

3) These two things have a consequence. Your hand brushes Chan’s as he hands you the cap.

The world stops for you for a moment, as pins and needles stab into dozens of familiar spots all across your lower abdomen. You freeze, dumb, awkward, overwhelmed smile plastered to your face as Bangchan turns away from you.

The pain isn’t that bad, really, more like a bad period cramp mixed with a sleeping limb waking up. Still, you curl your arm around your stomach, and your body bows with the motion. As if you could protect your reality from shattering and reshaping itself in front of you.

Static fills your ears and your poor, overloaded, brain throbs with the beginnings of a migraine.

Bangchan is your soulmate.

International k-pop sensation Bangchan is one of your eight soulmates.

Bangchan is part of a group with eight members.

Your soulmate is already moving away from you, your minor interaction just a footnote of his day, the tingling pain of your soulmate bond awakening probably blending in with a thousand other minor aches and pains from a very physically intense day for him.

You come back to clarity with the resolve that you’d like it to stay that way.

With a sense of urgency, you look around the crowd you’re part of, noting distinct faces and colors for the first time. You’re not really sure what you’re looking for until you spot it, and suddenly your escape plan is fully formed.

There, just a couple shoves and elbow throws away, is Blue Bbokari Girl from this morning.

You struggle your way over, people falling into the space you’d left at the railing like a pack of hyenas on fresh meat. When you reach her you the gently at her sleeve to get her attention.

She turns to you with confusion first, a bright greeting next, and finally a concerned scrunch of her brow as she takes in your hunched form.

“Hey, I’m feeling kind of sick, can you help me get out of the crowd?” You’re sure you look convincingly pathetic and weak as you plead with her. If only because you really did feel pathetic and weak at the moment.

“Oh, of course, hun! Just a moment.” She begins to crane her neck around to scan the crowd like you’d done moments prior. You feel a bit bad for interrupting her night like this, but as she calls out to someone behind her, you’re more thankful than anything.

Blue Bbokari Girl successfully gets the attention of someone you don’t recognize, and a quick summary of, “She’s sick, help her leave!” shouted over the crowd has you being passed through the crowd unmolested.

You find yourself enveloped in a chain of fans, one passing you to another, pausing, and calling on someone else to pass you to until you’ve finally stumbled free of the send-off mob.

Feeling a bit like you’d just been spat out of the maw of a great creature, you look back at the rustling crowd, now looking like it had never been disturbed at all.

The last lady who had finally freed you, an older woman with a Jiniret picket, eyes you with concern as you put you back to the nearest wall and slide down it.

“Will you be okay, sweetie?” She questions you worriedly, “Do you have anyone to pick you up?”

You smile weakly at her and assure her that you just have to get ahold of your roommate and he’d get you home safe and sound. She tries to insist on waiting with you, but you persuade her to return to the crowd with promises that you’d make your way to a bathroom or security guard once the worst of your vertigo had passed.

You watch her return with morbid fascination, amazed when she just sort of gets absorbed back into the mass of people. Almost like it ate her. You once again marvel at making it out of such a thing unscathed.

Truth be told, your stomach was only sore and tender this point, the sharp, needle-point pains long gone. Still, you take a moment to bring your knees to your chest, just breathing as you press your forehead to them. If anyone were to look at you then, you wonder what they’d think of you curled up on the floor and trembling like your dog had just died.

You hope they’d view you with kindness.

After giving yourself a moment to just feel, though you couldn’t tell anyone what you had felt, you gather yourself enough to totter to your feet and drag yourself to the nearest bathroom. You text Taylor as you go.

[Hey. Felt sick, in bathroom rn. lmk when we can leave pls?]

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[hansslut]

you belong to me ⋆🪽

҂ summary: jackie being possessive over reader before they even start dating and even more after cause she's a lil obsessed pookie :3

҂ warnings: a lil bit of jackie ghostface cuz i had to add it SORRY 😣

҂ a/n: posting this early cuz i got 2 nat fics hopefully coming in today so :D ( scared this is gonna flop )

you guys were friends but really only talked in school and when you had soccer practice

if she saw misty or natalie talking to you she'd immediately shoot daggers at them w her eyes and then just walk off

but if she saw them HITTING on you, not just talking, GIRL SHE'D RIIIIOOOOOTTTT you bet your ass she'd make everyone but you run the whole field 10 times

always helping you with anything cause "i know you can do it but i dont want you to tire yourself out im gonna do it for you i dont mind" and AAAAALWAYS buying you lunch

knows all your friends, the places you hangout at, your house, your favourite sports, your phone number, EVERYTHING

nowww after y'all start dating.. this girl isn't resting one bit

always attached to your hip 24/7

seeing u abt to talk w a random girl and going like "who was she?what did she want?do you know her?ok but why didn't you tell me about it?" and you're just ":0 i couldn't even say hi to her-" "AND????why do you need to say hi to her??"

she's the strongest believer of you don't need a girl bsf if you got a girlfriend and yk what she's right

always having sleepovers at your place cause she 'wants to protect you'

YK THAT ONE SCENE WHERE JACKIE TELLS SHAUNA "i was trying to save you" THAT BUT WITH GHOSTFACE JACKIE

she'd see misty trying to make a move on you ( she was just asking you when you can come over to her house so she can help with hw, BUT ALSO MAAAAYBE A LIL BIT HITTING ON YOU ) and when night comes you go to misty's house, only to find ghostface standing on top of her with blood dripping from the knife and being splattered all over the mask..

ofc that makes you scared SHITLESS you're like oh my god what the fuck jesus christ 😟 and then jackie pulls off the mask and goes "i was trying to save you, im sorry you had to see me like this>:( but it's okay now you're safe :D" and you were thinking SAFE FROM WHAT?????MISTY QUIGLEY????? but you still ran back to jackie cause HOW COULD YOU NOT💕💕

ANYWAYS UHM... she's just a desperate sad little girlfailure loser that needs love, does it really matter if she killed someone for you? she wants your love!!!!

[huggybearhughes43]

Hi!! Could you write swayman x Reader what's she loses a bet to him and she has to do anything he asks? Could be filthy af if you like!

Pretend

Jeremy Swayman x Fem! Reader

Warnings- SMUT, oral (F+M! Receiving), dirty names, cum eating, cream pie, Jeremy being a sweetheart

Summary- in the ask

Word count- 2k

The crowds cheers pierced my ears as I stare at the ice in shock. Three hours prior I made the stupid decision of betting that Jeremy Swayman would not be able to make a goal as a goalie. Fans cheerfully exited the arena as the timer went off showing the game ended with a Bruins victory.

I had a few thoughts about sneaking out of the arena with the fans. But that ultimately wouldn’t work, I’d see him another day anyways. I reluctantly walk through the hallways that went towards the locker room, fidgeting with the hem of my dress. I scoff when I see Jeremy smirking at me from his stance against the wall with his arms crossed next to the locker room.

I roll my eyes and approach him. “What’s the price?” His smirk doesn’t falter as he furrows his brows. “What? No congratulations? No ‘wow that was amazing Jeremy! You’re so super cool!’” He mimics in a high pitched voice. I stare at him blankly, causing him to roll his eyes. “You’re gonna do everything o say for…” he thinks for a moment “twenty four hours? That seems fair.” I shake my head “and if I say no?” His expression softens but he doesn’t lose the smirk as he shrugs. “I can’t force you to do anything, y/n… but it is only fair.”

I gnaw at my bottom lip and sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Okay, fine, fine.” He nods and pushes off the wall, picking up his bag and handing it to me. “Starting now.” He smiles jokingly. I groan dramatically and throw his bag over my shoulder, the heavy bag slowing me down as I follow him out to his car.

Once we get to his car I drop the bag, breathlessly. Hearing my panting, Jeremy turns around with his hands on his hips and a smile plastered across his face. “Too much for you?” “It’s like… five hundred pounds!” Jeremy laughs as he opens his trunk, “it’s fifty.” I glare at him “same difference.” “Whatever you say.” He laughs as he hoists the bag into his trunk and closes it.

“Get in.” He says nonchalantly as he walks towards the drivers seat. “Sir yes sir.” I sigh and get in the passenger side. The ride back to his house was mostly quiet, quiet whistles coming from Jeremy all the way up until we pulled up in his driveway. “I’m not getting your bag.” Jeremy laughs and pulls out his keys to unlock his front door. “Yes ma’am.” He steps to the side to let me in. I walk into his house and stand off to the side.

He closes the door and goes to flop down on his couch. I look around the house, an unfamiliar one I’d never been in before. Jeremy looks over the back of the couch at me. “Make yourself at home.” I fidget my fingers and sit at the end of the couch he was laying on. “Did you eat dinner at the arena?” He asks almost politely. I look at him and shake my head.

He stands up and walks into his kitchen. I look over at him and furrow my brows. “What’re you doing?” “Making you something to eat.” He shrugs. “Aren’t I supposed to be doing stuff for you?” He looks back at me and smiles. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be nice.” “That’s a first” I half joke. “Remotes on the table.” He says as he looks through his fridge. I grab the remote and turn a random movie on that looked interesting.

In about half an hour Jeremy returns to the couch with two plates of food and two sodas. I smile up at him, “thank you” he laughs and sits down next to me as he put the plates on his coffee table. “Don’t thank me yet, I’ve only asked you to do one thing so far” I shrug “I guess so.”

Both of our attentions focus on the tv as we eat. Well, both of our attention were on the tv. My neck grew hot as I felt Jeremy’s gaze on my legs and then up to my face. I decide to tease him a bit, I look over at him and our eyes lock. “See something you like?.” He smirks and stands up. “Maybe I do” he takes the dishes to the kitchen, setting them in the kitchen sink. I roll my eyes, I knew he’d tell me to do them later.

Jeremy sits back down on the couch, this time closer than before, resting his arm behind my head on the couch. As I stare at the tv Jeremy focuses his gaze back onto me. He takes in a deep breath and lets his other hand fall to my exposed thigh. An obvious expression of discomfort falls onto my face and Jeremy takes his hand back quickly.

“Shit. I’m sorry, y/n- i thought-“ my eyes widen at his apology, I look back at him. “Jeremy- it’s not that! I mean… look at me!” I point to myself, “I’m a nobody! You’re famous, you have a good career, a future! I’d just weigh you down.” Jeremy stares at me dumbfounded. “That’s the only reason?” I look at him and nod. A stupid smile spreads across his face. His hand falls back onto my thigh, his pointer finger drawing shapes.

“Then pretend.” I furrow my brows as I look back up to him, our faces only inches apart. “What?” “Pretend I’m a nobody, pretend no one knows who I am, you’re the only person who knows me.” He whispers, his lips ghosting over mine. “That’s the second thing I want you to do, y/n…” I stare at his lips for a second then his eyes. “Jeremy, I-“ “please” a smile cracks on my face as I nod and mumble an “okay.”

He smiles and presses his lips to mine. His hands fine home on my hips, his soft kisses soon turning needy and sloppy. He disconnects our lips as he picks me up effortlessly. He connects our lips once again as he carries me up his stairs and into his room. He lays me down on his bed gently before pulling away to pull his own shirt off. He hungrily slams his lips back to mine, hovering above me.

My hands tangle in his soft hair as we make out, my moans filling his mouth. His hands move to under my short dress, groping my thighs. He pauses his rough kissing for half a second before pulling away and standing up. He fumbles with his belt breathlessly. “Knees. Now.” He pulls his belt off and pulls his jeans down along with his boxers down to his ankles, stepping out of them. I smirk and fall to my knees in front of him.

“Good girl” he praises breathlessly, tangling his hand in my hair, making a makeshift ponytail. I grab his fully erect dick and kitten lick it. I stare up at him and smile. “What do you want me to do for you?” Jeremy stares down at me breathlessly for a moment. “You dirty fucking slut” he laughs, “all the way, I wanna touch the back of your throat, wanna feel you gag around me like the slut you are.”

I do as he says and suck him as far as I could into my mouth. My eyes stay on his as I feel throat him, moving my head back and forth as tears prick in my eyes. Jeremy takes control when he feels me faltering. He uses my hair and moves me back and forth on his dick, forcing me to gag as he stuffs himself down my throat. I swallow around him and he throws his head back, fucking his load down my throat. He pulls off of me, his chest heaving as he pulls his dick out of my mouth with a *pop*.

He grasps my chin softly and runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “Swallow all of it for me.” I nod and swallow it all down, sticking my tongue out as proof. “Such a good girl.” He looks up at the bed. “Lay down.” I nod and lay on the bed. Jeremy takes it as his turn to fall to his knees. He grabs my ankles and pulls my legs off the bed. He rubs his hands over my knees and up my thighs. “Open” he whispers and like clockwork I open my legs for him, my dress hiking up to expose my clothed cunt.

He softly kisses each one of my knees before kissing up my legs. He smiles up at me before pressing a soft kiss to my core through my panties before pulling them off. He licks a stripe up my cunt, forcing my head to roll back. “This wet for me?” I nod eagerly, “thought so.” His lips connect themselves onto my clit, sucking hard. I moan out and tangle my hands into his hair as I arch my back, pushing myself forward onto his face.

He moves two of his fingers to prod at my hole. He looks up at me as he moves figure eights with his tongue on my clit before pushing his two thick fingers into me. This mere movement pushes me over the edge. I cry out as I cum all over his face. He laughs and pulls away, licking his lips predatorily. He stands up and pulls the dress over my head, leaving both of us completely naked.

He crawls up on the bed, hovering over me to connect our lips once again. I rehome my hands on his back, scratching softly. I moves one of his hands down to align his dick with my cunt. “Ready?” He looks down at me and I nod softly. He nestles his head in my shoulder as he pushes into me. I gasp and dig my fingers into his back. He sits in the same spot for a moment, letting me get used to him before moving.

He grabs my legs and rests them on his shoulders. “Tell me if you wanna stop, okay?” I nod “words.” “Okay, I promise” “good girl” he grasps my thighs and starts moving. I arch my back off the bed in pleasure, moaning out his name repeatedly. It felt as if with every moan he got faster.

He moves his thumb to my clit, rubbing the same pattern he used with his tongue. I grasp my hands to his wrists, not being able to reach anything else. He pounds into me, each thrust harder and faster to the last. “Cum for me, baby” I pinch my eyes shut and squirt on his cock, my juices reaching his stomach. I cover my face in embarrassment. “Don’t do that. Move your hands, now.” I reluctantly move my hands.

“That’s it.” He slams into me, his pace faltering. ��W-where do you want it?” I whine out at his words. “In me- want it in me.” The words pushed him over the edge, his warm seed spilling into me. He flops down next to me, catching his breath. After a moment he gets up. “Where are you going?” I furrow my brows “calm down, I’ll be right back” he smiles.

He returns with a warm damp cloth and a glass of ice water. He sets the ice water down in the side table before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. He moves his hand with the cloth down to clean me up. I whine at the feeling, still sensitive. He presses a kiss to my forehead once he’s done, throwing the cloth in his clothes basket before shutting the lights off and crawling into the bed next to me.

He rubs my face softly with his thumb, sighing deeply. “Just one more thing I want you to do before you fall asleep” Jeremy suggests, I furrow my brows at him. He laughs “Will you be my girlfriend?” I smile brightly.

“Yes”

[giveafike]

Snow Much Fun! -B.T.S

TLDR: snow... in ... Florida...! This is part 5/12 of Azzie's Advent Calendar 2024!

Word count + info: 4k. ON THE DOT! im so proud + including dialogue.

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! No warnings : )

Azzie Notes ✚: listen... before you correct me and get all factual w me...be open minded... I KNOW IT DOESN'T SNOW IN FLORIDA...but it has before, so who says it can't happen in your imagination? THIS IS AN AU. LET ME DREAM, BELIEVE IN CHRISTMAS MAGIC. God forbid a girl likes to imagine and have fun. do u hate fun? whimsy? And if you can't get behind this teensy bit of snow then I fear for the next part.... erm anyways enjoy...

————————————————————————

The days blended together in that warm, comforting way only the holidays could bring. You and Ben found yourselves curled up on the couch with his family, the quiet hum of togetherness filling the living room. The TV flickered with a lighthearted comedy, paused mid-opening scene as everyone got settled. The selection wasn’t a Christmas movie, though Lisa had made her thoughts on that very clear earlier.

“Y’all know it’s December, right?” she teased as she settled into her favourite armchair, her hands curled around a mug of something steaming and fragrant. “We’ve got, what, two weeks left to make the most of Christmas movies? And this is what we’re watchin’?”

Bryan chuckled, patting her knee affectionately. “Let ‘em enjoy themselves, Lis. They’ll get to the holiday classics soon enough.”

Lisa let out a mock huff, shifting in her chair to settle in more comfortably. “If I don’t see at least one Santa before the weekend, I’m gonna start taking hostages,” she muttered, though the smile tugging at her lips softened the threat.

Ben chuckled before he nudged you gently before standing. “Hang tight. Gonna grab somethin’, ” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your temple as he walked out of the room.

“Where’s he off to?” Emma asked as she petted Halo while Alex lifted his head up from the phone in his hand, arching a brow as his eyes fell on the paused TV screen.

“Kitchen, I bet,” Bryan said, settling further into his seat. “He’s like a kid. Can’t sit through a movie without snacks.”

Moments later, Ben reappeared in the doorway, a triumphant grin tugging at his lips, and a gingerbread cookie sticking out from between them like a makeshift cigar. His hands were full, one balancing a plate piled high with the rest of the leftover cookies and the other holding a heavy metal water bottle.

“Look what I got,” he mumbled around the cookie, his words muffled but still carrying that signature playful tone as he nodded toward the plate.

Bryan folded his arms, shaking his head with a smile. “You couldn’t wait two seconds to eat one?”

Ben shrugged dramatically, biting the cookie to free his hands before setting the plate down on the coffee table. “Couldn’t let the guy go to waste,” he said, flashing the half-eaten now decapitated gingerbread man with a lopsided smile.

Lisa rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness in her expression. “At least share before you eat them all yourself.”

“They’re for everyone!” Ben promised in a whine, nudging the plate a little closer to the middle of the table. “But y’all gotta admit, they’re best when I bring ‘em.”

“Sure, Ben,” Emma mumbled sarcastically as she pressed play on the movie from the other end of the couch.

Ignoring her, Ben turned to you with a flourish, pulling a throw blanket from the back of the couch. He gave it a playful snap before draping it over both of you, his movements exaggerated for effect.

“There,” he declared, tucking the edges around your legs. “Cozy enough for ya?”

“Very,” you replied, laughing softly as he flopped down beside you, his arm immediately finding its place around your shoulders.

He leaned into your face, close enough that you could smell the faint scent of ginger and sugar on his breath. With a quiet smile, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, holding the two of you there for a few seconds, just enough to make your chest tighten pleasantly before pulling back.

“That’s for makin’ these with me,” he murmured, the words low and warm.

Your cheeks heated as you pressed beside him, letting his solid warmth settle against your side. The movie continued on as you all watched, Lisa's earlier mock protests forgotten, but your attention stayed fixed on Ben for a few moments longer. He rested his head in the crook of your neck, his curls tickling your jawline. Without thinking, your fingers slipped into his hair, toying with the soft strands and scratching gently at his scalp, your attention never leaving the screen. The soft, brown spirals swirled around your fingers looping and intertwining, almost as though they were holding onto your fingers each time you went in to massage them. The quiet hum he let out made your stomach flip, his whole body relaxing even more against yours.

“Keep that up and I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmured, his words barely audible over the dialogue on the screen.

“That a bad thing?” you teased, continuing the slow, soothing motion.

He didn’t reply just hummed again, his breathing slowing as he melted further into your touch. The warmth of the blanket, the faint scent of gingerbread, and the flickering glow of the Christmas tree lights made everything feel impossibly soft and still.

After a while, Ben stirred, sitting up slightly. You thought he might reach for another cookie, but instead, he turned to you. His gaze was gentle as he leaned down, pressing a string of soft kisses to your hairline, trailing down to your temple and cheek.

“Love you,” he murmured, featherlight against your skin.

You turned to meet his eyes, your voice just as soft. “Love you too, Benny.”

His smile was slow and easy as he settled back into the couch, pulling you even closer beneath the blanket. The movie continued, laughter bubbling up occasionally from his family, but the way you held each other made the rest of the world blur into the background. Across from you, Emma was sprawled out with Alex, both of them clearly more interested in whispering to each other than paying attention to the screen.

The living room was warm, lit softly by the glow of the Christmas tree. The angel ornament you and Ben had picked out at the market was hung proudly near the centre, its golden and silver flecks catching the light. It cast delicate patterns on the walls and floor, moving gently as the branches swayed ever so slightly.

Lisa noticed it too, her eyes lingering on the ornament. “That angel looks just beautiful up there,” she said softly, nudging Bryan. “Did you notice it earlier?”

He nodded, smiling. “I did. Real nice pick, y’all.”

“It’s from the market,” Ben said, his voice low and lazy. He didn’t bother lifting his head from where it rested against yours, but there was a quiet pride in his tone. “We thought it fit.”

“It’s perfect,” Lisa agreed, her gaze warm as it swept between you and Ben.

You smiled at her, then tilted your head back to look up at Ben. “Guess we’ve officially contributed to the family tree.”

Ben smirked, his eyes half-lidded with that relaxed ease he only seemed to show when he was home. “Next time, we’ll bring somethin’ even better. Like a big ol' handpainted bauble. That counts, right?”

“Sure,” you replied with a soft laugh, earning a grin from him.

From the other end of the couch, Emma let out a dramatic sigh. “Okay, but why are y’all so cute? It’s nauseating.”

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Em,” Ben shot back, earning a pillow being thrown at Ben by his sister.

“Watch it,” she warned, though her tone was playful.

“Alright, enough,” Bryan interrupted, his voice holding the kind of fond exasperation only a father could pull off. “Y’all are worse than the kids in this movie.”

Emma rolled her eyes but leaned into Alex, clearly content.

For a moment, the room was quiet again, the hum of the movie filling the space. Bryan and Lisa exchanged a look, one of those quiet, knowing glances that seemed to say look at this, this is what we built. You caught it out of the corner of your eye and couldn’t help but smile, feeling a little grateful and honoured to be part of this small, happy scene.

Ben must’ve noticed too, because he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You good?” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the TV.

“Perfect,” you whispered back, snuggling into him a little more.

And there you stayed, wrapped in warmth and familiarity, the angel casting its soft glow over the room. The movie might not have been a Christmas classic, but the moment was simple, cozy, and filled with quiet love. It felt more festive than anything scripted.

Midway through the movie, Bryan leaned forward in his seat, his brow furrowing as he squinted toward the window. The movement drew everyone’s attention, and Lisa raised an eyebrow.

“Bryan, what’s the matter?” she asked, her voice soft but curious.

“Is it snowin’ outside?” Bryan asked, squinting as if he could see through the blinds.

Emma snorted, her disbelief immediate. “Dad, c’mon. No way. It’s Florida. Snow?”

Alex chimed in, shaking his head. “Yeah, no shot. You’d sooner see gators tugging Santa's sleigh along the street than snow falling here.”

But Ben, with that trademark half-smirk, leaned forward slightly, his arm still slung lazily around you. “It might be,” he drawled, his Gainesville accent thick with teasing scepticism. “Y’know, hasn’t snowed here in years, but it’s cold enough tonight. Could be somethin’ out there.”

His words sparked a ripple of curiosity. Emma groaned dramatically but leaned forward on the couch anyway, craning her neck to peer toward the window. “There better not be snow,” she grumbled, “I’m not built for that.”

You couldn’t help but bite your lip in excitement, feeling that childhood giddiness bubble up inside of you. You try to hide it but glance over too, the soft glow of the tree lights spilling across your face as you shift. From where you sat, you caught the faintest movement outside. A soft, almost magical swirl danced in the light of the streetlamps, the flakes subtle but unmistakable.

“Oh my gosh,” you whispered, your eyes widening. “It really is snowing.”

Emma gasped beside you, her earlier scepticism melting into childlike awe as she broke into a smile. “Wait, what? No way.”

The two of you scrambled to the window, pulling the curtain fully aside to get a better look. Outside, the streetlights illuminated a delicate flurry of snowflakes drifting down onto the quiet street. Across the way, the Christmas lights strung on the neighbouring houses seemed to sparkle even brighter, their colours reflecting off the thin layer of frost dusting the lawns and rooftops.

“Wow, would you look at that,” Lisa murmured, her voice filled with wonder as she stood up and joined you.

“It’s not a blizzard or anything,” Bryan remarked, standing now, hands on his hips. “But I’ll be darned, it’s snow all right.”

Ben chuckled behind you, staying where he was on the couch but watching you from his perch. “Told y’all it might be somethin’. Y’all never listen to me.”

You turned to him, your cheeks still flushed with the excitement of the unexpected sight. “When do we ever listen to you?” you teased, making him laugh.

“Fair point,” he admitted, patting the spot beside him. “But it’s too cold to stand there by the window gawkin’. Get back over here.”

With one last glance outside, you and Emma let the curtain fall back into place and returned to the couch, settling easily against Ben’s side. His arm found its familiar spot around your shoulders, pulling you close as you curled into his warmth as his strong hand rubbed your arm up and down.

“Snow in Florida,” you murmured, more to yourself than anyone. “It feels… kind of magical, right?”

Ben looked down at you, his smirk softening into something sweeter. “Maybe it’s a sign. Christmas miracles and all that,” he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, pressing your cheek against his chest and letting the steady thrum of his heartbeat lull you back into the comfort of the evening. Outside, the snow continued to fall, a rare and fleeting wonder that made the cozy warmth of the house feel all the more special.

The movie carried on, but the mood had shifted just slightly. Lisa leaned closer to Bryan, who had draped an arm around her shoulder. Emma and Alex sat side by side, whispering and laughing, their earlier disbelief gone as they marvelled at the snowfall. For you and Ben, the magic wasn’t just outside in the snow or inside the house. It was in the quiet, unspoken connection between you, a warmth that had nothing to do with the blankets or the tree lights. And for now, that was enough.

As the movie carried on to the last scenes, Ben got up to grab a drink from the kitchen. You were mid-sentence, pointing out a plot hole, when his voice rang out, loud and filled with shock.

“Goddamn, the snow stuck!” he exclaimed, his voice high-pitched and bursting with excitement as he came running back to the living room, almost falling over several times.

“What?” Emma shot up from her spot, nearly knocking over the popcorn bowl. “You’re lying!”

“Nah, I’m dead serious! Y’all gotta see this!” Ben called, his voice laced with genuine wonder.

Emma bolted for the front door, you and Alex following close behind, too frantic to even think of how the potential "in-laws" might view you. Pulling the door wide open, you gasped.

There it was, a light layer of snow blanketing the yard, the driveway, and even the street. It wasn’t much, but in Florida, even a thin coating like this was monumental.

“Dad!” Emma spun around, practically vibrating with excitement. “Can we go outside? Please?”

Ben poked his head around the corner from the kitchen, already grinning. “Yeah, c’mon, let us have a little fun! It’s not like this happens every year.”

Bryan looked up from his reclined position, still sat as he arched a brow. He looked at Lisa who stifled a laugh but nodded to the group of you, smiling.

“Y’all act like you’re kids again. But sure, go ahead. Just, wrap up. I don’t want anyone catchin’ a cold or somethin' worse.”

“Yesss!” Ben and Emma cheered simultaneously, already scrambling for jackets and hats, throwing spare ones at you and Ale.

Lisa sighed, though the smile on her face gave her away. “Alright, alright. But bundle up, all of you! Scarves, gloves, the whole thing!”

The house turned into a flurry of motion as everyone raced to grab layers. You hurried to slip on one of Ben's jackets while Ben tugged a knit cap over his curls, half-singing, “We’re goin’ on an adventure!”

Alex grumbled good-naturedly about the chaos but joined in, pulling on mismatched gloves. Emma was the first out the door, her shoes only half on, as she let out a delighted squeal.

The cold air hit your face the moment you stepped outside, but it was worth it. The snow wasn’t deep, just a soft, powdery layer barely clinging to the ground, but it was enough to transform the neighbourhood into a winter wonderland. The Christmas lights strung across the houses glowed even brighter against the dark sky and white snow, while neighbours had begun to step outside, just as awestruck as you were.

“Y’all look at this!” Ben exclaimed, crouching down to scoop up a handful of snow. He grinned, forming a loose snowball. “This is, like, real snow. Not just that slush stuff.”

You barely had time to admire it before Alex sneaked up behind Emma and sent a snowball flying, hitting her square in the back.

“Alex!” Emma spun around, eyes wide with mock outrage. “Oh, you are so dead!” She retaliated with a snowball of her own, smacking him right on the chest.

Ben laughed, clearly loving the commotion, and quickly joined in. His first target? Emma. The snowball hit her shoulder, sending a puff of white into her hair.

“Seriously?” she cried, but she was already giggling as she crouched down to scoop more snow.

“Nothing personal, Em!” Ben called, grinning like a kid. “Been waitin' to do that.”

“Oh, you think this is funny?” Emma lobbed her snowball in his direction, missing him by inches.

Meanwhile, you tried to keep a low profile, standing off to the side, admiring your footprints in the snow, hoping to avoid the crossfire. But Ben wasn’t about to let that slide.

“No hiding!” he declared, turning his playful grin on you. In one smooth motion, he launched a snowball at your leg.

“Ben!” you yelped, laughing as the cold snow splattered against you.

“That’s what you get for standing still!” he teased, already preparing another.

The battle escalated quickly. Alex doubled down on attacking Emma, who alternated between shrieking and laughing as she hurled snowballs back at him. Ben, meanwhile, seemed intent on taking both you and Emma out at the same time, his snowballs flying fast and wildly.

“You’re the worst!” Emma shrieked after a snowball hit her square on the nose, making her freeze. She stood there for a moment, eyes closed, her mouth slightly open in shock as snow dripped down her face.

Ben doubled over laughing. “Oh man, that was perfect!”

“Not funny.” she shot back, though the corners of her mouth twitched.

Before you could react, one of Ben’s snowballs struck you on the cheek, cold and wet as it splattered across your skin.

You stood there for a second, stunned, your hand flying to your face. “Alright, that’s it.”

Emma’s head whipped toward you, her eyes blazing with determination. “You in?”

“Oh, I’m in,” you replied, already scooping up snow.

The two of you turned your full attention on Ben, who immediately held his hands up in mock surrender. “Wait, wait, wait-!”

“Get him!” Emma yelled, launching a snowball that caught him on the arm.

You followed suit, hitting him square in the chest. Ben tried to dodge, laughing as he scrambled to pack more snowballs.

“No fair!” he called out, ducking behind a tree for cover.

“You started it!” you shouted, hitting the tree trunk just inches from his head.

The battle raged on, snow flying in every direction as you and Emma teamed up against Ben. Alex tried to join forces with him, but Emma caught him with a perfectly aimed throw that made him rethink his allegiance.

Kids from the neighbouring houses stood on their porches, laughing and cheering as the four of you chased each other through the snow. By the time the energy started to wane, your cheeks ached from laughing, your gloves were soaked, and snow clung to your hair and coat.

Panting and grinning, you all collapsed onto the snowy ground, the fight finally giving way to exhaustion. Your breath puffed out in small clouds, and for a moment, all you could hear was the sound of your own laughter mingling with the others.

“Alright, y’all,” Bryan’s voice called from the doorway, carrying that fatherly mix of amusement and authority. “That’s enough before somebody ends up with frostbite or a trip to the ER. And I'm not the one drivin' in this weather.”

None of you made a move to get up. Instead, Emma let out a deep sigh and spread her arms and legs out wide.

“Snow angels it is,” she declared, sweeping them back and forth to carve her shape into the untouched white blanket beneath her.

Ben, not to be outdone, flopped onto his back beside her, his long arms stretching as he exaggerated the motion. “Mine’s gonna look like a Wimbledon champion,” he said with a cocky grin.

“More like a giant goofball,” you teased, lying down on his other side to start your own angel.

Alex joined in without a word, still heaving as his movements were slower but no less deliberate. Soon, the four of you had carved a small lineup of snow angels, their winged silhouettes stretching across the yard.

Emma propped herself up on her elbows, inspecting the work. “We gotta sign ‘em,” she said, using her gloved finger to carve an “E” near the feet of her angel.

“Good idea,” Ben said, carving his “B” with a flourish at the bottom of his. “Now everyone knows who made the best one.”

“Debatable,” you muttered, finishing your own initial with a satisfied nod.

Alex added his “A” silently, glancing up with a small smirk as Emma leaned over to nudge him.

As you all sat up, the sound of laughter caught your attention. The last group of neighbourhood kids was a few yards away, rolling snow into giant mounds to form the base of a snowman while the rest of the street stayed dormant, the night slowly creeping up.

Ben squinted at them, then turned to you, his grin mischievous. “Think we could do better?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you replied, already on your feet.

The four of you got to work, scooping and packing snow as quickly as your soaked, frozen fingers would allow. The snowman started small, a modest figure compared to the heavy one the kids were making. Ben insisted on adding his own flair, giving it a crooked smile made of pine needles and twigs for arms that looked like they were mid-dance.

Emma stepped back to admire the work. “He looks like he’s auditioning for a Christmas musical.”

“Better than a boring ol’ snowman,” Ben said, adding a tiny snowball hat to the top of its head.

You knelt down to smooth out its base, adding a scarf you’d borrowed from Emma’s collection to give it a finishing touch.

The kids nearby noticed your creation and waved, their giggles carrying through the crisp air. One of them called out, “Yours looks funny!”

“You look funny,” Ben shouted back, laughing as he threw his arm over your shoulders.

"No need to be fighting kids, Ben" Emma warned as she stopped herself mid-giggle.

"They started it!" Alex chirped in, whining.

When the snowman was finished, the four of you stood back to admire it, your cheeks rosy from the cold and exertion. The little snowman was lopsided but charming, a perfect reflection of the fun that had gone into making it.

“Alright,” Bryan called again from the porch, shaking his head as he watched you all. “Seriously, now. Get in here before Lisa makes me come out there to drag y’all back myself.”

Ben turned to you with a grin. “Guess we better listen before we end up grounded.”

You laughed, brushing snow off your coat as the group headed back inside. The kids were still laughing, the little snowman standing proudly in the yard as a reminder of your impromptu snow day antics.

You all trudged back into the house, your shoes squeaking against the hardwood floors. Your hair was wet, your noses red from the cold, and your hands wrinkled and stiff. Ben rubbed his hands together, blowing on them dramatically.

“Y’all are somethin’ else,” she said, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

“My fingers are gonna fall off,” Emma complained.

Lisa and Bryan were quick to hand out towels, ushering everyone toward the warmth of the fireplace. Lisa had already turned up the heat, and the fire crackled invitingly as you all crowded around it, towels draped over your shoulders.

“Alright,” Lisa announced, hands on her hips. “Y’all had your fun. Now warm up and get yourselves to bed. It’s late.”

Ben leaned down, brushing a quick kiss against your snow-damp, tinted cheek.

“You fight dirty,” he murmured, the warmth of his voice contrasting with the lingering chill of the snow.

You smirked, nudging him lightly. “Learned it from the best.”

You exchanged a glance with Ben, the two of you grinning despite your exhaustion. It had been a fleeting moment of winter wonder, but it was one you’d never forget. As you curled up in bed later, trying to warm up, you were still laughing about your lopsided snowman, you couldn’t help but think that even the smallest miracles could bring the greatest joy. This was the kind of moment that made the holidays magic not just the cookies or the lights, but the love threaded through it all.

[eggiesins]

Sandrock Bachelorettes Being Drunk

Mild NSFW so minors DNI!

So many notes on my Bachelors headcanon post! Thank you guys so much!  Anyways, as (one) kind soul requested, here are the bachelorettes!  I did my best to capture their unique traits, but unfortunately, the dateable women in Sandrock are written more subtly (flat) than the men.  Without such extreme personalities (Elsie and Catori notwithstanding) it was much more difficult to think of unique scenarios the ladies would shine in.

Amirah

To date, no one in Sandrock has ever actually seen Amirah get drunk, and most would speculate that it’s simply something she’s never done.  Being the parentified older sibling to Arvio, she places a strong emphasis on personal responsibility.  That being said, someone get this girl a drink, please!  Of all the bachelorettes, she could probably use one the most.

But once she does decide to let loose - maybe a Fleeting Youth Tea Society meeting got out of hand - boy does she relax.  Sober Amirah scolds Arvio, Drunk Amirah goes on an hour long rant with Pablo taking notes in the background giggling with glee.  Did she mean anything she said?  Of course not, but a girl needs to vent sometimes.  She’s a very flip-flop kind of drunk, though.  Once the tipsy euphoria hits, you can bet she’s dancing around the saloon with reckless abandon, laughing at anything and everything.  Her usually reserved personality gives way to a sloppy wholesomeness and she’ll spend the night latched onto Heidi and the Builder just laughing and hugging and reminding them all just how much she loves them.

She’s gonna be extra harsh with Arvio the next day, so be prepared for him to show up at the workshop asking why his sister hates him now.

Catori

I know a lot of fans aren’t huge on Catori because of how messy she comes across.  But a struggling businesswoman, divorced with a kid, whose idea of rebuilding Sandrock means installing roller coasters in a monster-infested canyon.  That’s it.  I just love messy characters who pour their heart and soul into their dreams.

Anyway, Catori is no stranger to partying by any means.  Again, she has a kid.  She’s not exactly naive or reserved, so when she drinks, it’s really just her natural personality getting amped up a bit.  She’s pitching her latest drunken business idea to anyone and everyone in the saloon because you never know which tourist might secretly be a bazillionaire in disguise.

“Oh Builder, it’s you!  I was just looking for you!  I’ve come up with a great show idea for Catori World.  We’ll have a separate building set up with all kinds of games just for adults.  There’ll be dice and card games, and customers can put their own money on the line for a chance to win big from the house!  How exhilarating!”  “...Catori that’s a casino.  You want to build a casino.  I don’t know how well the Church would respond to something like that in Sandrock.”  “Oh Fuck the Church.  They’ll be on board as soon as they see how much profit it’ll bring in for the whole town!”  “Catori, no”

Elsie

Elsie wants to get drunk.  No one else in Sandrock wants Elsie to get drunk.  She’s already a serial prankster and a furry when sober.  Who knows how far she’ll go with no inhibitions?  She’s definitely getting drunk by sneaking into Cooper’s premium Yakmel milk supply before she knocks on Mi-an’s door at 3am dressed in a full homemade catsuit.  She’ll spend the next hour trying to make herself purr and climbing all over Mi-an’s furniture before bolting out the door to try and scare Owen as he walks home from the saloon.

Seriously, it’s like she develops super ADHD when she drinks, never focusing on anything for more than 5 seconds before something shiny catches her attention and she’s pouncing on it.  Light help her when she decides to go for a night-time horseback ride across the desert.  She’s 100% gonna wake up near Gecko station surrounded by concerned Penskies, but Logan or Larry will find her soon enough and take her home to an annoyed and frightened Cooper.  He’s been preparing her lecture for the better part of four hours.

Grace

She makes the best drinks in Sandrock, hell, in probably all of the Free Cities.  But she never seems to get drunk, ever.  Years of training and building up resistances to different poisons and intoxicants while working for the Alliance make it very difficult for her.

If the builder is dating her, though?  She’ll feel comfortable enough to let her walls down and drink plenty.  Even Grace doesn’t know what to expect from herself when she starts drinking, so strap in.  She’ll only drink heavily at home with the builder, and once she is drunk, she’s nonstop cuddling with all the pets.  Once the builder starts feeling left out and tries to join the cuddle pile, her attitude shifts drastically.

“Hey Builder?” she’ll ask, standing up to look over the builder before just grabbing the collar of their shirt and staring them dead in the eye.  

“Yeah Grace?”

“I’m gonna take your virginity now.”

“...huh?!  Grace, I’m not a virgin.  You know this.”

“I don’t care; your virginity is mine and I’m taking it.  Right now.”

Hold on for dear life, Builder.  You’re in the Light’s hands now

Heidi

Drunk Heidi is a Smash-or-Pass/Would-You-Rather/Never-Have-I-Ever goddess.  She’s quick with the prompt, and her Would You Rather questions are always the most morally or philosophically devastating you’ve ever heard.

“Builder, if me and your mom somehow switched bodies and you had to sleep with one of us to switch things back, would you rather choose your mom in my body or me in your mom’s body?”  Cue distraught Builder noises ‘cause what the fuck, man.

She is, in a word, relentless when drunk, chasing Qi around the saloon trying to get him to finally admit out loud that he’s obsessed with Gungam, making (welcomed) passes at the builder any chance she gets, and man oh man, does she have some choice words for Master Verna.  

I definitely see her as the type to get ridiculously flirty and handsy with the builder for the whole walk back to the workshop, only to immediately pass out on the couch when they get there.  

Jane

Tomorrow is gonna be a “watch a movie” day at school for the kids, Jane already knows.  She’s 6 Yakmel daiquiris deep and showing no signs of stopping.  Why does she drink like a monster?  Who knows?  Knowing why wouldn’t change the fact that she’s doing it anyway.  

She’s definitely making the Blue Moon stage hers for the night, spouting endless play renditions, sometimes switching into her regular teaching lectures, and re-enacting Old World historical events.  She’ll sit at a booth with Ernest for a while hammering out ideas for new plays and novels, maybe even how to incorporate Ernest’s novels into a creative writing lesson.

(Jane, I’m sorry your entry is short.  We don’t get to know much about you other than that you’re a teacher and an actress.)

Mi-an

Mi-an is a very nervous and kind character, so I could see her being hesitant about drinking, and especially getting drunk…at first.  As soon as the buzz and tipsiness start to kick in, it’s a whole new side to her.  She’s singing on the blue moon stage with Jane (making out with Nia in a corner), helping out Elsie with pranks, and generally indulging in shenanigans she might overthink when sober. 

I think Mi-an would actually like being drunk once she’s done it once or twice, like any gifted student as soon as they get to college.  It’s an easy way to turn off her everyday anxieties and just live in the moment.  She’s definitely still trying to fix everything around town, though.  Sober or not, this woman is determined to work herself to death.  Owen has to kick her out one night after she starts a one-woman builder cruise inside the saloon at 1am.

“Go to sleep Mi-an.”  “Owen, you don’t understand, I can fix all your wobbly tables and the sinking booth AND the shelf behind the bar in like, 5 minutes flat.  I even have the materials right here!”  “Yes, I saw you drag in a pile of scrap wood earlier when I told you no.  And what do you mean wobbly tables????”

Nia

Ah Nia, recent college graduate Nia.  She’s a party girl, through and through, but in the most wholesome way possible.  She’s the mom friend who may be just as plastered as everyone around her, but will still be handing out snacks and water bottles for everyone else.  Elsie passed out and needs to be carried home?  Who knows when Nia started hitting the gym like Pen, but she’s on it.  She may be drunk too, but she knows what she’s doing and how to work around it.  We see in the game that she’s more than capable of handling herself, from scaring Yan so badly he flat out begged the builder to keep her away from him, to dungeon diving with the likes of Logan and the builder as well.  Sure, she’s incredibly sweet and bubbly, but there’s a lot of depth to Nia that doesn’t get explored anywhere near enough.  If the builder isn’t romancing her, she’s definitely making out with Mi-an in a corner.  Girl’s got builder fever, something FIERCE.

Venti

Strongest babygirl vibes of any character in the game, and she’s got the least amount of content of any romanceable townie, tragic.  Tragedy is really the name of the game when it comes to Venti, well, for literally everyone BUT Venti.  Her relentless optimism is only gonna get amplified when she starts drinking.  She made it to Sandrock, she’s got a steady job with people she likes, the town is recovering and Venti is alive.  And she’s gonna enjoy being alive to the fullest she can.  Sober Venti tends to fade into the background, but Drunk Venti?  Try and find a way to not think about how amazing she is, I dare you.

She’s dancing, absolutely stoked over getting all the “fancy” drinks and foods at the saloon, and if she’s dating the builder, she’s gushing about how happy she is with them.  Be careful, though.  Venti may seem the impossible optimist through and through, but that may be more an issue with her simply never acknowledging her trauma rather than having processed it healthily and come out happier.  If she drinks too much, be ready for that happy drunk mask to drop and reveal someone who has buried their sadness so deeply they have no idea how to handle it should it come bubbling to the surface.  So, just focus on having her drink lots of water & get to bed early, then find a good therapist in the morning.

Thanks so much again guys!  Let me know if you have any headcanon ideas you’d like me to write on.  My ask is always open!

[skzthelomlhehe]

"Is my skin that ugly?" College students vocalracha x F/reader of colour

Total masterlist Tag Reqs:@arestoucries

Heeyy pookieeess~ earlier I was taking a nap and had a dream lolz~ this is just gonna be a short and sweet fluff sorta angsty little oneshot based off of that dream. This is for all the brown girlies like me and the darker girlies who feel insecure about their skin.

Just so you know, you're all beautiful regardless of colour, body shape or anything for the matter. You're all extremely gorgeous in your own ways. Please don't let anyone say otherwise, my love ❤️ be a little kinder to yourself, yeah?

Also this is gonna be gender neutral so to all the dark boy pookies out there, y'all are extremely handsome as well ❤️

Hope you guys enjoy!

Genre: a little fluff a little angst, roommate vocalracha

Warnings: mention of racism, violence.

Synopsis: you're a person of colour who is a transfer student in a prestigious Korean University. You got here on a great merit but unfortunately have to face a lot of racism due to your skin. You seek your roommates' comfort and later find out they... Took care of the problem.

It was a long day at uni. You were drained. More so emotionally. Having to deal with nasty glares and snickers because you were of color was tough. You've always known that Korea was a racist country but... The emotional damage you suffer is something you didn't expect.

You walked in to your shared apartment. Jeongin and Seungmin were on the dining table laughing about something. Usually you'd join in on the fun but today... It was different story. You were extremely homesick, missed eating your childhood comfort meal, the bullying was starting to really get to you.

You always thought you were capable of brushing it off but maybe that wasn't the case. Not today at least. You threw your back on the couch, flopping down on the soft mattress of it. You leaned back, your palms covered your face as you let out a deep sigh.

The two boys, visibly worried, walked up to you. "What's up, Y/N-ah?" Jeongin asked, concerned. "I bet college works too much for this kid heh" Seungmin chimed in, trying to joke and lighten the mood.

Jeongin and Seungmin chuckled but soon flinched to a serious reality when they heard you sniffle. They looked at you and realised you were crying.

Jeongin tried to hold your hands apart, revealing your face which now flooded with tears. "Y/N?? Why are you crying??" He asked. Seungmin looked equally worried. Guilt filling his gaze.

You weren't the type who would cry that easily, especially not in front of others. But today, for some reason, it was too hard to hold back. "Be honest guys... Is my skin that ugly...?" You sobbed.

Both the guys looked at you surprised. Their demeanor changing instantly. "What?? Why would you even say that??" Seungming queried. From his eyes it looked like he was starting to get mad.

You looked down, still sobbing. "There's these... These people in my class who... Who keep bullying me because I'm of colour and... I always brushed it off but... I can't anymore..." You bent down, crying even harder now.

Jeongin kneeled down, looking up at you. "Who was it?" He asked. His voice stern and cold. The look in his eyes equally terrifying as if he was ready to kill. You looked up at Seungmin who was standing next to you, his fists clenched and eyes equally raging.

You tried to brush it off saying it'll all be over once you graduate anyway. Knowing how overprotective they were of you... There's no saying what they could do.

The two men realised you were shaken up. Noticing it, their gazes turned softer. "Come on, Y/N-ah... Please tell us..." Jeongin looked at you with puppy eyes, still kneeling down.

Seungmin sat next to you, pulling you in for a hug, while your head rest on his chest, his hand rested on your head gently patting you, "Please tell us everything that happened, Y/N-ah... We just want to be there for you. You're not ugly. You're the most good looking person we've met. You're so unique... So adorable... So attractive. How could you say that?" He whispered.

Jeongin got up as well, sitting next to you and patting your back. "Go on, Y/N-ah" he whispered.

You finally gave in, spilling everything. How people would give you nasty glances and snicker at you in a disgusting manner. How they would call you racist slurs. Sometimes even throw your things away and drop food or juice on you.

In the meantime, Jeongin prepared some warm milk for you to calm down. After a while of venting you finally felt better.

"thanks for listening, guys... I really don't know why I got so sensitive..." You gripped the glass of milk in your hand.

The two reassured you, "come on. It's ok to feel vulnerable at times. It's okay to cry. You've been holding on to it for so long. You deserved to let it out. Just because you cried doesn't mean you're sensitive okay?" Seungmin said. His voice ever so warm and comforting.

"and you're absolutely NOT ugly. You're very very very attractive. You're so kind and smart, you're so hardworking and it's always so good to be around you. Those idiots don't know shit. Don't think about them, yeah?" Jeongin chimed in.

Although it was tough changing your perception about yourself, it definitely felt nice to be told you're not ugly. It felt so comforting to be loved and cherished.

You yawned, making the two chuckle for some reason. You looked at them dumb founded, "what?" You shot at them. "It's nothing haha let's go to bed shall we?" Jeongin laughed.

The three of you head to bed. And that was one of the best sleep you'd had for a long while.

Weekend rolled by. You took your time relaxing at home, giving your parents a call and telling them about it. They encouraged you as well. You were starting to feel better already.

And soon, Monday came by in the blink of an eye. Even after all the encouragement, you felt hesitant to go. But you pushed through and went anyway.

The atmosphere was weird. People were looking at you, yes but this time it was nasty glances. They looked... Scared?

"yah! Y/N-ah! Come here!" Seungmin called out. You smiled seeing him and Jeongin waiting for you in one of the benches.

You went over to them, sitting down beside them. "Good morning." Jeongin smiled, "sorry we left early. We had some work."

"yeah good morning. Also no it's fine." You replied "But what's going on though? Why's the atmosphere so weird?" You asked, confused, raising an eyebrow.

Seungmin and Jeongin looked at each other and smirked. "You'll find out soon enough~" seungmin smiled at you slyly. It just made you feel even more weird.

The professor came in shortly after, his face grim. Since you were sitting on the front raw, he could see you when he walked in and his face went white pale the moment his eyes laid on yours.

He looked away, clearing his throat. "Class, I have an announcement to make." He spoke out.

You were even more confused. What happened?

Moments after, the professor spoke again. Apparently the group of people who had been harassing you were expelled for harassment of peers and many more charges. Once expelled, they were found beaten to a pulp in the cafeteria where they first started physically assaulting you.

You looked at the two boys who were snickering the entire time. You were stunned. Jaw almost dropping.

"wh-what did you guys do...?" You asked. Your eyes open wide. Your face visibly confused. "Oh it's nothing~ we just gave them a little nudge~" jeongin giggled. "Oh and we also 'politely' warned the professors who turned a blind eye to you that if you or anyone else every got harrassment, it would turn a bit bitter for them~" seungmin chimed in.

You were genuinely confused, should you be laughing or should you be terrified? Regardless, you felt an overwhelming sense of warmth. You knew they had your back and you couldn't be happier.

"always remember, Y/N-ah..." Jeongin whispered, "You're actually fucking stunning." Both of them finished.

Fin~

Just gonna say this once more, all of you are extremely extremely attractive so don't let anyone else make you think otherwise!! All you need is a good heart and mwah! Love you pookies~ bye byeeee

[foursaints]

ok but like i completely agree on barty being the top. however. that man is not in charge, he thinks he is because he got evan ‘no emotions’ rosier to moan but then evan mutters something unintelligible barty thinks is ‘feels good’ and that man is gone. he’s burying his face in evan’s neck and letting out the most pathetic little whine because that man has got to have a praise kink.

and also evan knows. like yaz said he plans their sexual encounters down to a T. he can play this tall dirty man like a fiddle.

(also barty eats ass like a god)

anyways, hope your having a swell day/night and now i’m gonna go think about power bottom evan during my economics class :)))

i touched on this slightly here so i’m sending you that way but LOVE the vision.. you really get me anon.. service top barty is so real. this response got insanely explicit so i’m putting it below a cut LMAOO

but i raise you that evan is very used to Getting What He Wants, and he comes in with his spreadsheets & meticulous mental plan for exactly how everything will go…. until barty (<- sicko pervert who CANNOT restrain himself) immediately and effortlessly ragdolls evan against the wall and then ALL BETS ARE OFF!! i think part of barty always sees evan as so perfectly his type that he’s convinced evan is this diabolical nymphet-angel sent to earth to torture him. and that can alternate between barty worshipping him like a dog OR treating evan like a literal sex doll that was built specifically for his personal use.

the way i see it is that evan is used to having control in daily life. like you KNOW he is bossing his doting boyfriend around 24/7. so he gets off on trying to assert control but then having it forcibly taken from him. and barty is the opposite! but the fact that they’re both so insane about Control is what makes them such a fun dynamic for me… like evan putting barty on a leash and making him beg for it is Entirely as natural as barty manhandling him like an Inanimate Sex Toy & doing all sorts of depraved shit

weirdly i think barty giving up control (and evan having it in a sexual context) is a lot more vulnerable so all their really sweet sex is when power bottom evan & barty’s praise kink really gets to shine… but i see their day to day as barty perversely slobbering all over evan and evan being like Noo Whats Happening This Is So Terrible Unhand Me (❤️❤️🥵🥵)… and then as soon as it’s over evan is commanding him to go make him dinner and barty is all Yes Rosie <33

but they flip-flop for sure. and barty does eat ass like a god. sorry this is so long i think about them constantly. love you

[themightymoose]

alright everyone take my rarepair

Clay x Riptide headcanons bitches (hcs under the cut)

------

Clay probably confessed first

Like... Riptide was trying to hype himself up, but during the actual moment, he got so nervous he couldn't get the words out. So Clay just ended up doing it

Tsunami thought it was hilarious

Tsunami was actually their wingman, she would try so hard to make them realize the other likes them

but fails. Everytime :(

Riptide was the one to fall first since I think Clay would need to take some time to realize he has a crush

but when he did Clay was smitten

The DoD definitely made bets on who would confess first

Glory and Sunny bet on Clay confessing while Starflight and Tsunami bet on Riptide confessing

anyways for the more general stuff, Clay's love language would probably be acts of service as well as quality time

Riptide's is kinda hard to pin down but I'd have to go with words of affirmation and physical touch

sometimes Riptide will just flop onto Clay. Just uses him as his personal pillow

whenever Riptide visits JMA (I do like the idea of him working there because they need more staff in my opinion) he will just flirt with Clay. All the time

In the middle of class too

"Um, Mr. Clay? Class was supposed to start ten minutes ago."

I feel kinda bad for Moon in this situation though, she'll accidentally get a glimpse into Riptide's thoughts and it'll be like

"I want him to step on me."

I imagine Clay would take Riptide to meet all of his siblings. And boy oh boy is Riptide fearing for his life. There's so many, he's gonna die!!!

There's this one moment where Clay ends up leaving them alone for a couple minutes for whatever reason

Riptide is legit kinda on the brink of tears at the moment

Umber is the one to break the silence

And before you know it, they're finally talking :)

Riptide is still a bit antsy so he finally asks his question

"You guys aren't gonna say the whole 'If you hurt him we'll hurt you' kinda thing, right?"

"Eh, no, that's kind of an overrated thing to do, besides, he's perfectly capable of hurting you himself!"

"... Oh."

[beefslipper]

Halloween Headcanons (Months early lol)

My last post was such a flop I heard the crickets chirping before I even got on tumblr omg

Since nobody is giving me ideas, I'm just gonna do short n sweet headcanons on one (at least) character from each of the fandoms I'm in... Or at least the ones I can remember. Idk why but I can't wait until spooky month so we're doing Halloween-themed HCs!!!!!! I frickin' love the holidays :D

I won't be using images in my post this time just because I'm like half asleep and I need to yap. (I have no energy and I must yap /ref)

First up, Jason Todd! (Batman)

I think he'd avoid dressing up for trick or treating because his fave is Wonder Woman... Bro's not about to traumatize every child that sees him. However, if he is craving candy hard enough, he'd go in a lazier or goofy costume. You know those unicorn onesies? That's for if he isn't in the mood for ghits and shiggles. An inflatable dinosaur costume is his go-to if he's in a better mood.

I bet he'd have everything planned, too. He knows where all the rich people are and which ones give out the full-sized candy bars or any cool light up toys that make little kids jealous because they have no idea where to find them at.

If he were to go trick or treating with anyone, I think it'd probably be the Batfam as a whole (They don't trust him with not stealing some kid's candy bucket).

Next, Touya Todoroki! (MHA)

This is an AU one where he isn't dying because I don't want him to die (Insert sob emoji).

Since Enji himself is in a wheelchair, he isn't able to push Touya around. He was absolutely devastated by that and begged Natsuo and Fuyumi to take their older brother out to trick or treat since Shoto was with his friends.

Touya would either do a costume to heal his inner child or a lazier one that's comfortable and doesn't irritate his skin. Either way, he's demanding that they go to every house around no matter how long it takes. Any time he gets candy he doesn't like, he asks Natsuo to trade with him LOL

At the end of the night, Enji has to lock away the candy so Touya doesn't scarf it all down and get a stomach ache. He does anyway since it was 'hidden' in the same spot it had always been.

Onto Arlan! (HSR)

My boy doesn't get enough love <3

I think his excitement after hearing about Halloween's existence would be enough to convince the spaceship to set up little stalls for him, Asta, MC, and Peppy to run around to collect candy. He and Asta would probably have matching costumes like ketchup and mustard bottles or pb and j or something cute like that. Or it'd be a three-way deal since Asta would dress Peppy up in some cute little costume.

Arlan would definitely sit on the floor with Asta and MC and trade candies so they each get what they wanted. Asta would have some dog treats for Peppy so they weren't left out :)

At the night's end, Arlan would probably be caught falling asleep, still in costume with a half-eaten candy bar in hand.

Now, Bennett! (Genshin Impact)

He, Razor, Chongyun, and XIngqiu would get together and go out trick or treating. He tried to convince Fischl to go with, but she refused, claiming it was far too childish for someone of her status. That meant "Please bring me back some sweets".

He had a bag specifically for Fischl :)

As the night went on, the boys managed to have good luck. Bennett had never been happier since he was internally horrified of ruining the others' night by only getting raisins, toothbrushes, and apples or having someone's bag rip.

All went well and everyone got a pretty good amount of candy. Even Fischl.

Yap session is done! I kinda wanted to do DMCB stuff or Steven Universe stuff, but my creativity juice ran out. I hope y'all liked this one :D I'll probably do another one when it's actually October. (evaporates I FORGOT JJK oh well)

Have a great day, evening, and/or night everyone :DDDD