#i could make such a post on relationships

[florestalio]

JUST FRIENDS — n.rk

albeit the lines of your friendship were quite blurred, it still confused you as to why riki was suddenly adamant on having your hair tie on his wrist at all times. given, you know, that it would be basically telling the world that the two of you were dating.

GENRE— fluff, highschool au, friends to lovers

WARNINGS— lots of touching, jealousy, mutual pining but they are both oblivious idiots, cursing, toxicity (they are huge haters imo), kissing, slight making out (?), let me know if I missed any!

WORDCOUNT— 6.4k

NOTE— fluff is my biggest enemy, so this was quite the challenge for me. bnd ver posted here!

YOU AND RIKI WERE CLOSE. Too close, according to the rest of your friends.

You both had been best friends since kindergarten, the story of your meeting never failing to tear a chuckle out of anyone who heard it.

You were three years old, having arrived at kindergarten a few minutes ago. You were scared to go and talk to the other kids — what if they were mean? What if they laughed at your pretty bows? What if they didn't want to play with you?

You sat in one corner, away from the other kids, playing with a small doll. Amidst your playing, you saw little feet approach you. You looked up, noticing a boy of your age. He stared right back at you, before pointing at you. “You are going to be my best friend!”

The boy had later introduced himself to be Riki, and you both had truly become best friends. The two of you were together through thick and thin, never leaving each other's side. There were no secrets between the two of you, the thought itself incredulous. You both were best friends, why on earth would you both hide something from each other?

Your bond was unbreakable, something that left many writhing in envy. How come you both were so close, never able to leave each other's side?

With a good bond, comes judgement. Judgement by others, assumptions about your true relationship.

While you both were close, not everyone knew that you both were best friends, right? To any stranger, you both were the embodiment of 'siblings, or dating?'.

While you both bickered and were playful enough to be termed as siblings, the way you both acted with each other, often left people confused.

See, your love language was physical touch, while his was acts of service. After spending so much time with each other for all these years, you both were bound to rub off on each other, weren't you?

His hand was almost always on your waist, or your shoulders — didn't matter where you guys were, or what you were doing — it was always there. If somehow he forgot to put his hand around you, you would loop your arm around his, or intertwine your hands. It was cute, definitely very cute, but — the extreme couple energy that you both excluded was insane.

It didn't help that you were often touching him, skinship being basically your second nature. You were always fixing his hair, his clothes, touching him while you were speaking to him, while you were laughing with him — how could you both expect anyone to believe that you weren't dating each other?

Not only that, both of you would often be seen giving each other random gifts, without it being a special occasion. You were often seen giving Riki a chocolate at a random time of the day, while he was often delivering milk to you. If anyone asked, he always had the same excuse: “She doesn't drink enough water, she needs to stay hydrated”, while you always said “he likes chocolates, is it so wrong of me to give chocolates to a friend?” Needless to say, they always backed off after that.

It was only after a certain set of incidents that everyone finally had something to confirm that yes, you both were indeed more than friends.

IT WAS A QUARTER PAST SEVEN IN THE MORNING, fifteen minutes left for the start of the first period. You and Riki had arrived at school just five minutes ago, with his hand around your waist as usual. The two of you were giggling at some tea you were spilling regarding a relationship between a senior and a sophmore, since you were physically incapable of keeping things from him. Just as you were getting to the good part of the gossip, one of Riki’s friends from the football team ran up to the two of you. Jake.

“Hey lovebirds!” Jake cheerily waved to the both of you, his tone teasing. You simply rolled your eyes with a smile, having gotten used to the antics of his friends. “Riki, dude, I'm gonna need a favour — one of our frontiers is absent, and none of the subs are available. Please help us out for today's match — I promise I'll make it up to you, even if we don't win. You will even have a customized jersey for the match, which you can keep with yourself permanently–!”

Riki hesitated, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “I don't know, I was planning on leaving early with ___ today, to get ice cream and all…”

You immediately pinched his hand that was around your waist. “He means yes, we can always reschedule the hangout.”

Jake's eyes lit up. “Really?! Thank you so much, you have no idea how desperately we needed another player — I'll go tell the others now, you can come and practice with us during recess!”

Just before he could leave, you halted him, getting out of Riki's grasp. “Jake, wait–”

He stopped on the spot, looking at you with a confused gaze. “Something wrong?”

You stepped forward, brushing some hair out of his face gently, smoothing the slightly messy hair on top of head. You took a step back. “There you go, the mess was bothering me.”

He blinked, a faint red coating his cheeks and creeping up his neck. He was well aware of your touchy nature, but this was the first time he was on the receiving end of it, hence his flustered state. “O-Oh, thanks — I- I'll go now–”

He quickly turned on his heel and left, a light jog evident in his retreating figure. You turned back towards Riki, a smile on your face. “Let's go to class, or else we might be late.”

He nodded, his arm looping around your waist once more, guiding you around the busy halls, to class. You couldn't help but notice the slightly tighter grip he had on your waist, or the way his expression was different than his usual when you turned back towards him.

CLASS WAS BORING AS USUAL. The two of you sat at the back of class, messing around as usual instead of studying. Yet, there was something amiss.

Usually, Riki was a lot more playful, a lot more relaxed and free around you. Currently however, there seemed to be an air of hesitation, reluctance around him. His smile didn't exactly reach his eyes, his laughter feeling forced.

‘Maybe he just isn't feeling it today?’ was what you thought, so you didn't bother asking. You knew if something was seriously bothering him, he would have told you already.

Before long, the bell rang, signifying recess. You quickly held Riki's hand, pulling him out of his seat, and racing into the hall. You both had already eaten in class, — how you both never get caught, is a mystery you're both yet to solve — so he would have the entire recess to practice with the rest of the football team for the match that was going to take place later on.

You both quickly navigate your way to the football ground, spotting Jake and the rest of the team doing lazy stretches to warm up first. He spotted the two of you quickly enough, waving and rushing over to where you both were standing.

“Hey,” he began, a grin adorning his face. “I'm so glad you didn't change your mind — ___, you can sit on the benches and watch if you'd like, I'm sure the others won't mind! Also, coach got the customized jersey done already — no idea how he got it done so quickly — it's there in the locker rooms, so you can change into that right now if you'd like!”

You admired his ability to yap continually without stopping, making you smile a little. You nodded in his direction, nudging Riki to go and change already, before quickly walking over to the benches and taking a seat.

Soon enough, Riki was back, adorning the jersey, making your jaw drop. You couldn't take your eyes off him — you had never seen him in attire similar to that before, but damn, he sure did look amazing.

Your face flushed slightly, as you quickly tried to snap out of these thoughts. Nope, that's your best friend, you're not going to think of him in that sense.

You watched as they all played, Riki surprisingly being able to keep pace with them. You never watched him play before, the sight drawing you in like a moth to a flame. His concentration was — were you blushing?! 

God, what was wrong with you? Had you been single for so long that the sight of your best friend simply practicing in the field had you all giddy?

The rest of the recess went on smoothly, with you trying not to concentrate on Riki too much, lest someone caught you with your cheeks on fire. God, you really needed to get yourself together.

Once practice was over, Riki quickly went to you, his usual smile back on face. You handed him a bottle of water, quickly wiping his sweat off him. He started babbling while you were doing so. “Did you see that? I did pretty good back there, right? Jake said that he was confident we would win the match today, and said I was better than the guy I'm subbing for! Isn't that great?”

You let out a hum, finishing wiping off his sweat. “Yea, you were amazing. C'mon now, we need to run, or else we will be late for history — you know how ma'am gets when someone is even two seconds late.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer. He didn't need to know that you weren't exactly watching much of what he was doing, or that you were only watching him.

AS SOON AS THE BELL FOR THE LAST PERIOD RANG, nearly the whole school raced to the grounds. All the players, including Riki, ran to the locker rooms to change, whereas the rest of the students quickly found the best seats possible.

You sat at the very front, a bottle of water and a towel already in your hands. You were a little tense for the match, since the opponent team seemed to be extremely well prepared. Still, you tried to not let your mind wander, focusing on Riki, as he came out of the locker rooms, into the field.

The match started. The opposing team was putting up a good defense, but Riki’s team was able to keep up. It was hard to watch, the many nearly-goals and nearly-fouls heightening your nerves. You tried to not let them get to your head, focusing instead on cheering for Riki.

Half time arrived soon enough, with both the teams having scored one goal each. Riki came straight to you, quickly taking the bottle from your hand, gulping it all down. He gave you a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I'm really nervous for the match. The opposing team is… starting to get angry. I don't think they expected us to keep up, so they were a little dumbfounded. But now they are simply pissed — they aren't exactly known for being the fairest when it comes to playing football, and winning.”

You bit your lip, wiping off his sweat with the towel. “But they can't use unfair means to win, can they? They will get a foul…”

Your words died down on your tongue once you noticed his grim expression. “If they somehow injured one of us, leaving us incapable of playing, what is one red card going to do? They have subs available, we don't. If one of us is out, the match would already be lost.”

You didn't know what to say in order to encourage or comfort him. You knew that the reputation of their opponents wasn't the best, but there was nothing anyone could do, other than to stay safe and try their best. So that's what you told him.

He gave you an amused smile. A teasing glint appeared in his eyes.“You sound worried. Are you scared that they might hurt me?”

You scowled at him. “This isn't a joke! They could actually injure you, can't you just give me your word that you will at least try to stay safe?”

He let out a small snicker, before giving you a mock salute. “Of course ma'am. Just do me a favour, will you?”

You tilted your head to the side. A favour? Now? You decided not to question it. “Sure I can. But it depends on what it is.”

He grinned at you, before pulling his jersey off him, revealing a plain white t-shirt underneath. That explained why he was sweating more than the others. Who even wears two layers to a football match?

He shoved it in your chest. “Wear it, and cheer for me.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “No way! It's literally drenched in your sweat.”

He pouted, giving you a pleading look. “Please? For me? It's only for an hour and a half, can't you do it? I'll feel a lot more motivated then. C'mon, just do it, please–”

You groaned at his incessant begging. “Fine! I'll wear it — just… ugh, help me out with it–”

The grin on his face grew, as he quickly helped slide the jersey onto you. He proudly made you twirl for him, with you hiding your face in your hands from the utter embarrassment of it — but complying nonetheless. Unbeknownst to you, a smug smirk adorned his face, as he locked eyes with Jake in the process, who quickly looked away, his ears turning red at having been caught looking.

The whistle sounded again, signifying the start of the second half. Riki quickly left, the hurried ‘good luck!’ that you threw at him bringing a smile to his face.

You watched as he advanced into the field with renowned vigour, the determined expression on his face soothing your nerves slightly. You made sure to cheer for him even louder than before, the grin that he threw your way making it worth the looks that were shot in your direction.

But the opposing team did not relent. Eager to match Riki's newfound enthusiasm, they changed their strategies. The brutality in every move that they made caused your anxiety to spike. 

Riki's team, however, didn't let it deter them. Everyone was determined to win, to not succumb to the team that always tries to get their way through unfair means.

Speaking of unfair means, the attempts at making foul moves increased ten-fold. Many of the players in Riki's team were almost injured, but somehow they managed to avoid it at the last second. Why the referee wasn't giving any yellow cards, was beyond your imagination.

The clock was ticking down. Not a single goal had been made. The audience was starting to lose hope, the enthusiasm in their cheers starting to fade. You made sure to continue screaming, cheering them on as best as you could. In the midst of it all, Riki glanced at you. Upon seeing the expression on your face, he made it his personal mission to win. He had to, for you. He wasn't going to disappoint you, he swore to himself.

With a determined look, he surged forward, trying to get to the ball. Jake had the ball, and he locked eyes with him. Upon noticing the younger’s determined expression, he managed to pass the ball to him.

Riki caught the ball without any interceptions, quickly racing towards the goal. He skillfully avoided all the attempts to tackle him, running as fast as possible to the goal. The goalkeeper froze, upon noticing the expression on his face.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, he struck. With a sudden burst of strength, he kicked the ball, watching as it flew into the goalpost, the goalkeeper just narrowly missing it.

The sudden uproar that erupted was deafening to say the least. His teammates were hugging and whooping, patting him on the back. The exhilarating feeling that came from the win, made him feel lighter, as if he was on cloud nine.

His eyes searched for you, noticing you trying to get past the huge crowd towards him. He quickly navigated his way out of the crowd, making his way towards you. As soon as he was in front of you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, making you squeal, as he picked you up and spun you in the air. His grin was wide, your own grin almost as wide as his. “We won! We actually fucking won! Did you see my last goal? I looked cool right? I still can't believe I actually made the goal–”

In the midst of his yapping, one of your friends was wiping his sweat off for him. While you tried to not let it show, you couldn't help the jealousy that flared inside you at the intimate gesture. You were supposed to do it for him, not her. Riki didn't even seem to notice, too focused on telling you the details — as if you didn't witness it all by yourself.

Unable to bear the sight of her wiping off his sweat with a random towel, you grabbed his hand, pulling him away. You both set into a sprint, away from the people congratulating him.

As soon as you reached a somewhat secluded region of the school, you turned to him, your arms crossed over your chest. But before you could speak, he spoke first, his breathing coming in short pants. “Goddamn woman, I just won a match, you're already making me run again? Cut me some slack, will you?”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his outburst. “Why did you let her do it?”

He looked at you, confused. “Huh? Let who do what…?”

You gave him an incredulous look. “Her. You let her wipe off your sweat for you — don't tell me that you didn't notice it at all?!”

He still looked confused. “Huh? Someone did that? I didn't even realise — I was talking to you, so I was distracted, I guess. But why does it matter?”

You gave him a pointed look, frustration evident in your eyes. Why wasn't he getting it?! “‘Why does it matter?’ Because I'm your best friend! I always do it for you, so why would you let her do it as well? If I'm your best friend, then shouldn't I get treated as such? Shouldn't I be treated differently from the rest of our friends? Why are you letting her do something that only I do to you?”

His eyes widened, before he frowned. “I didn't even notice her doing it… but if I should treat you differently from the rest of our friends, shouldn't you do the same to me as well? Why should this be a one-sided arrangement?”

Now it was your time to frown. “One-sided? How is this one-sided?! I always treat you differently, how have I ever treated you similar to the rest of our friends?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, I don't know, maybe yesterday? When you fixed Jake's hair for him? Since when did you start fixing people's hair other than mine?”

You were at a loss for words. You simply opened and closed your mouth several times, like a fish out of water.

Riki spoke again. “How about this: I pay more attention to my surroundings, while you keep your hands to yourself? Don't go around touching other people's hair, that should be reserved for me only. Do we have a deal?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Fine. We have a deal.”

You usually didn't back down from fights that easily. But everything seemed to be different when it involved Riki.

TRUE TO YOUR DEAL, the two of you didn't treat others even remotely similar to how you treated each other anymore. Both of you grew much closer than before. People could easily pick up on the change in the air around the two of you, the shippers going slightly insane. When were the two of you going to announce your relationship officially?

Neither of you paid much attention to those silly rumours, always dismissing the teasing. Friends were allowed to be possessive of each other, were they not? Was it a crime to want some things to be just between you guys, and not for everyone else to know and judge?

Days went by the same, the teasing never stopped. But it was always there from the very beginning of your friendship, not just from classmates, but outsiders and family members as well. Both of you had grown used to it.

Recently, both you and Riki had noticed the trend of wearing hair ties on wrists. While it wasn't an uncommon sight for girls, it certainly was for boys. What do they need a hair tie for, when their hair is so short?

It was quickly discovered that the hair ties were actually of their girlfriends’, them wearing it on their wrists being a sign of commitment — and the general fact that they had a girlfriend.

Of course, it flared jealousy among those who weren't in a relationship — including you and Riki. Both of you glared in resentment at anyone who had a hair tie on their wrist, always greeting them with a bitchy eye roll. Both of you, like every other single person, loved to hate on couples, betting on when they would break up, if they were cheating on their partner, and whatnot. You both were always met with the same responses: ‘Just wait till you get into a relationship.’

Your responses were the same too. The same eye roll, paired with a pissed off comment, either mocking them, or talking about how neither of you would ever bother with dating anyone. Everytime, you both were met with an exchange of amused glances. Neither of you ever understood that they meant when you both would get together.

It started to get unbearable after a while, with almost everyone wearing a hair tie on their wrist. It was frankly starting to annoy Riki a lot, to the point that he snapped at his friends, which was uncharacteristic of him. It was only then that the guys gave him the obvious solution: to wear a hair tie as well.

Wearing a hair tie on his wrist was easier said than done. For Christ’s sake, he didn't have a girlfriend! Why would he wear a hair tie on his wrist, when he didn't have someone's to wear?

But then a crazy thought struck him. He may not have a girlfriend, but he definitely had a girl best friend. You. He could wear your hair tie on his wrist, right?

Turns out, you didn't share the same views as him.

“ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY NOT. Where did you even get this crazy idea from?!”

Riki bit his lip, rubbing his nape sheepishly. “Well — the guys keep teasing me, so I got desperate, and… uhm…”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes, and sighing. “Riki, you're aware that only couples wear hair ties on their wrists, right? We,” You gestured between the two of you. “are not a couple. You wearing my hair tie on your wrist would be indicating that I'm your girlfriend. Which I'm clearly not. Let's not give everyone another incentive to tease us, yea?”

He let out a groan. “Oh, c’mon, who cares what others think? We can just — make an excuse — tell them that I'm wearing it because you keep losing your hair ties, so I'm basically your hair tie holder. How does that sound?”

You gave him an incredulous look. “No one will ever buy that shitty excuse.”

He scowled at you. “Oh, like you could come up with something better.”

You nodded enthusiastically, although it was completely sarcastic. “Of course I can! We forget this conversation! Because we both know what the hair tie would indicate. Not just to others, but between us too.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “I don't care. I'm going to wear one.”

You rolled your eyes. But before you could open your mouth to retort, Riki grabbed the hair tie that you used to meticulously tie your hair into a ponytail and pulled.

You watched in shock, as your hair came undone, your hair tie now in his hand. With a smug smirk, he wore it on his wrist, showing it to you proudly, before going off to his class. “Bye ___! See you after this period!”

Oh, he was definitely going to see you. Maybe two of you or even more, depending on how hard you punch him.

JUST AS EXPECTED, you both were on the receiving end of everyone’s teasing, becoming the new hot topic of your school. No matter how much you both tried to ignore it, it just didn’t work.

Questions about whether you both were secretly dating or not followed you both left and right, comments assuming the status of your relationship were thrown about casually — it was simply too much. None of your friends believed you either, their cheeky smiles and teasing comments following you both everywhere.

All because of Riki’s obsession with wanting to wear your hair tie.

At some point you both got sick of trying to clear up the accusations, just letting people think what they wanted to. After all, their assumptions and comments weren’t going to magically come true, just because they think a certain way.

Right?

THE TEASING HAD GOTTEN TO A POINT WHERE NEITHER OF YOU COULD STAND IT ANYMORE, causing you both to avoid people as much as possible. Did no one understand the concept of personal space anymore? Or did they forget that minding their own damn business would always be more fruitful than trying to gather tea about other people’s love lives, or lack thereof?

Most of the time, you both hung out in the library or rooftop, sometimes even resorting to taking refuge in the janitor’s closet, that’s how much you both were affected by the constant teasing. How come everyone was so damn invested in the love life of you both, when it didn’t even concern them in the slightest?

Today was no different. From the morning, all you both could hear were comments like ‘So when are you guys planning on making it official?’, ‘When will you both drop the bomb?’, ‘Don’t bother lying, it’s too obvious that you both are super into each other.’, etc., etc. Your fist was clenched tightly by your side, Riki’s grip on your waist also tighter than usual. The urge to punch them in the faces was extremely high. When were they going to get bored of teasing you both?

In order to escape them, Woohak steered you through the crowd, escaping into the stairway. The two of you quickly climbed up the stairs, going to the rooftop. You pushed the door to the terrace open, the cold wind whipping in your faces. Riki slammed the door shut behind him using his foot, his hand never leaving your waist.

You went towards the railing, leaning on top of it. Riki finally let go of your waist, leaning on the railing beside you. Neither of you spoke, simply enjoying the feeling of the cool breeze, and the majestic view of the cityscape beneath. The cars and people looked quite tiny from up there, like ants, which was to be expected, given that your school building was eight stories tall.

Suddenly, Riki cleared his throat. He spoke up, his voice low, eyes facing his front. “Do the rumours and the constant teasing bother you too much?”

You snapped your head towards him, your eyebrows furrowed in surprise. “Where is this coming from?”

He looked at you. “You know, the constant questions and comments that are thrown in our way? It just — it got me thinking: ‘What if it all bothered you too much? What if our friendship isn’t worth all the comments and excessive teasing we face?’ Just stuff like that.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Oh my god — don’t you ever think like that, you hear me? Just because some people like to be annoying and poke their big ass nose in our goddamn business, doesn’t mean our friendship isn’t worth the trouble. Do you really care about other people’s opinions enough to end our friendship? Just like that?”

He quickly shook his head. “No no no, absolutely not — I just thought… actually, nevermind. I thought the rumours were making you uncomfortable, I’m glad I was wrong.”

A hint of a smile crept up your face, as you looked in front of you again. “A few silly comments can never make me break my friendship with you. You’re my best friend, aren’t you? Best friends are supposed to stick together, no matter what. Through thick and thin, all of our ups and downs Riki.”

He looked in front of him again, letting out a scoff, which was supposed to be an amused one, but it came out more bitter than intended. “Yea, best friends… that’s all we'll ever be…”

The last part was quiet, but you still heard it. The tips of your ears burned, a flush creeping up your neck. You quickly tried to change the subject. “L-Let’s try something.”

He furrowed his brows, looking at you again. “Try what?”

You bit your lip, quickly trying to think of something. “Uhm — let’s climb the railing and sit on it! Sounds fun, right?”

He raised a brow. “Absolutely not. That’s the stupidest, and most dangerous idea you’ve ever had, and that’s saying something.”

You pouted. “Come on, it’s not that bad — the railings are sturdy, we won’t fall.”

Riki firmly shook his head. “Nope. You want to climb it? Be my guest. But don’t tell me I didn’t warn you when you fall off and possibly break your leg. Or an arm. Or crack open your skull. Either way, I will say ‘I told you so’.”

You rolled your eyes, beginning to climb it up. “Oh shut up — I’m sure you would love to goad about it, if I fell off. You revel in my misery after all, don’t you–?”

You got cut off by a yelp of your own, your hand slipping. Riki immediately came to your rescue, pulling you off the railing. In complete and utter fear of the sudden momentary lapse of judgement that almost caused you to fall off the roof, you turned around, hugging him tightly.

He held you close, wrapping his own arms around your waist. He could feel your heart beating erratically in your chest, matching his own. He couldn’t believe how stupid and unaware of your surroundings you were.

He glared down at how you buried your head in his chest, in disbelief of your previous actions. You were shaking slightly in his hands, but he didn’t care. “Are you fucking insane?! You knew that was dangerous, why on earth would you still try to climb the damned railings? For the love of god, you could have fallen off and died!”

You meekly raised your head, preparing to retort, before freezing. He was so, so close. You could make out every single detail on his face, every freckle, every pore, every single blemish. Yet, he was so��� mesmerizing.

Riki’s heart skipped a beat as he looked down at you. His voice took a softer edge, a gentle note evident in it. “Promise me that you will never…”

Too lost in his eyes, you didn’t hear him. His voice and every other noise faded to the background, your sole focus being on his eyes. They were pulling you in, drowning you in them. Like a siren luring an unsuspecting victim.

Your lips parted slightly, as you kept staring at him, his warm breath fanning your face. He swallowed hard, realizing exactly how close you were. The adrenaline pumping in his veins was fucking with his head, thoughts of what your lips would feel like against his filling his mind. His eyes flickered down to your parted lips, the urge growing, before they quickly darted back up to your eyes, meeting your gaze once again. “Promise me.”

The words seemed to be stuck in your throat, which suddenly felt parched. “I…”

His breath hitched, eyes fixed on your parted lips once again. His heart was still racing, the world seeming to narrow down to just the two of you, standing flush together on the roof. “You…” He whispered, leaning just a fraction closer without realizing it. “You what?” It came out softer than intended, just a barely audible murmur.

You swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, wetting it with your saliva. The words tumbled out of your mouth, without you even realizing it. “God, you’re so pretty…”

Riki’s world seemed to stop, his mind going blank. His grip on your waist tightened slightly. “What did you say?” He whisper-hissed, leaning just a tad bit closer. His gaze flickered down to your lips again. The shift in the atmosphere around the two of you was becoming impossible to ignore, becoming electric with unsaid words and unacted-upon impulses.

You blinked, biting down on your lip. There was no going back now. “You’re pretty…”

His heart skipped a beat, then another, then another. He could barely believe what he was hearing — no one had ever called him ‘pretty’ before. Sure, he had heard other words: handsome, attractive, stunning, eye-catching — but ‘pretty’? Never did he hear that one before. But damn, he would be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart race — probably more than the other praises ever did. It was a word typically reserved for women, but hearing it from you directed towards him? It made his brain short-circuit.

He asked you again, just to confirm. “Pretty?”

You nodded, no longer scared of his reaction. “Very much so.”

He felt his cheeks flush again at the unusual comment. He was blushing, and he never blushed. But everything seemed to be different when he was around you.

His mind was reeling, as he tried to process this new information. You, his best friend, thought he was pretty. He leaned even closer, his lips just a hair breath away from yours now. “You really think I’m pretty?” He whispered, his voice just barely audible.

You gulped, nodding. “Yea — yea, I do.”

His heart started pounding rapidly in his chest, his breathing shallow. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, the closeness of your lips, the way you were looking up at him. It was starting to all fade out into white noise, the sound of his rapidly beating heart in his ears. His eyes zeroed in on your parted lips, and something in him snapped.

Throwing all rational thought out of the window, he closed the barely there gap between your both, softly pressing his lips to yours. Your lips were as soft as a cloud, feeling pillowy against his. The kiss was brief, barely more than a whisper. It was nothing more than a peck, but it was enough to make his heart jump out of his chest, into his throat. When he pulled back, his eyes were as wide as saucers, surprised by his own boldness. “I–”

You didn’t let him complete his sentence. You grabbed his face, cupping it with both hands, pulling his face towards yours again. You kissed him again, with a lot more vigour, pouring out your pent up feelings into the kiss.

He was caught off guard by the sudden intensity of the kiss, but he melted into it. His hands pulled you even closer, as if trying to meld your body into his. He parted his lips, deepening the kiss, as he felt your arms wrap around his neck, pulling you even closer.

One of his hands came up to your face, cupping it, tilting his own to further deepen the kiss. The lack of air was starting to hurt, despite how addicting your lips were. He pulled back slowly, not before gently biting down on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth, before letting go of it with a pop.

You felt a little dazed, but still smiled up at him, your eyes slightly hazy and unfocused. He chuckled at your state, planting a kiss on top of your head. “Pretty, huh?”

Your cheeks grew warmer at the teasing undertone in his voice. “Shut up. I meant it, you know.”

His grin grew wider, as he kissed your cheek. “I know. I hope this is a good time to say that I like you? Like, I really fucking like you, I was just scared to confess because of the recent situation… with the excessive teasing and all… and, well, the fear of rejection.”

You hit his arm. “You silly goose — if I didn’t like you back, do you think I would behave the way I do with you? Absolutely not. You’re lucky I put up with your antics, you know.”

He rolled his eyes, although there was a smile on his face, one which he didn’t bother hiding. “You know, the hair tie was just a ploy? I just wanted any potential suitors to back off of you, but I didn’t expect people to react like… that.”

You let out a giggle. “I figured. It was honestly a really cute, albeit smart move on your part. Certainly made everyone back off… only to approach us with a different reason.”

He smiled down at you, his expression utterly lovesick. His eyes were practically resembling hearts. “D’you think if we announced it officially they would finally stop?”

You shrugged. “Probably not. Hopefully yes. But — in order to make it official, you need to ask me first, you know? Learn to be a gentleman, Riki.” The last bit was just you teasing him, something that he caught on to pretty quickly.

He playfully rolled his eyes, before speaking theatrically. “Fine — would you like to do the honour of becoming my girlfriend, ___? Wait no, scratch that — would you make me the happiest man alive by letting me take the position of your boyfriend?”

You scoffed in amusement at his dramatics, before pretending to think. “Take me out on a date first, then I will think of it.”

He gave you a smug grin, a determined glint in his eyes. “Deal.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST— @senascoooop

[isaadore]

BOUND BY TWO HEARTBEATS LUKE HUGHES

pairing dad!luke hughes x mom!reader

SUMMARY an unexpected pregnancy challenges your relationship with luke, forcing you both to rethink your future together. however, despite the uncertainty, luke stays by your side, and the pregnancy brings you two closer than ever. word count 3.6k

warnings fluff with slight angst, use of y/n, fem!reader, mentions of birth, unplanned pregnancy, mild arguments

note first ever luke fic! hope u guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it 🤞 also, i apologize for the cheesy hockey references 😕 i just thought luke would be the type to make those

MAIN MASTERLIST LH43 MASTERLIST

THE PREGNANCY TEST felt heavy in your hand as you sat on the edge of the couch, staring blankly at the coffee table. Two pink lines. The confirmation was there, undeniable, and yet you felt stuck in a haze of disbelief.

Luke would be home soon. The thought made your stomach twist. What would he say? Would he be excited? Scared? You didn’t know how to prepare for a conversation that could go in so many different directions.

The sound of the front door unlocking made your heart jump. Luke stepped inside, his hockey bag slung over one shoulder, hair slightly dishevelled from his post-practice shower. He didn’t notice you right away, too busy slipping off his sneakers.

“Hey,” he greeted casually, dropping his gear by the door. His voice softened when he looked up and saw you sitting there, still as a statue. “Everything okay?”

You swallowed, gripping the test tighter in your hand. “We need to talk.”

Luke frowned, the playful ease on his face fading instantly. He dropped his keys on the counter and made his way over, sitting down next to you. “What’s going on?”

You held out the test without a word, unable to meet his gaze. The silence that followed was unbearable. Finally, you risked a glance at him.

Luke stared at the test, his expression unreadable. His jaw tensed, and he exhaled sharply through his nose. “You’re… pregnant?”

“Yeah.” Your voice cracked on the single word.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “Okay. Okay,” he said, as if trying to convince himself.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” you blurted, your chest tightening. “I just—I needed to tell you. I know it’s a lot, and I know it wasn’t part of the plan, but—”

“Of course it wasn’t part of the plan,” Luke interrupted, his voice low and firm. He turned to you; his brows knit together. “We’re not ready for this, Y/N. I’m not ready for this.”

The words stung, even though you’d braced yourself for them. You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, trying to hold yourself together. “Do you think I am? I didn’t exactly ask for this either, Luke.”

He sighed, running his hands over his face. “I just—I don’t know what to do. This changes everything.”

“I know it does,” you said quietly. “But it’s happening whether we’re ready or not.”

Luke stood, pacing the length of the living room. His movements were restless like he was trying to escape his own thoughts. “I mean, what are people gonna say? My career’s just getting started, and now—”

“And now what?” you snapped, unable to hold back anymore. “Now you’re stuck with me and a kid? Is that what you’re worried about?”

He stopped in his tracks, his face falling. “That’s not what I meant,” he said softly, guilt clouding his eyes.

“Then what did you mean?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Because I’m scared too, Luke. I’m terrified. But I can’t do this alone, and I don’t know what you’re thinking right now.”

Luke’s shoulders slumped, and for a long moment, he didn’t say anything. Then he sank back onto the couch, his head in his hands. “I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if I can be the kind of dad a kid deserves. I don’t even know if I’m ready to try.”

Your anger softened at his vulnerability, and you reached out, hesitating before placing a hand on his back. “I don’t have all the answers either,” you said gently. “But I know we’ll figure it out. Together.”

He lifted his head, looking at you, his eyes glassy. “You really think we can do this?”

“I don’t think it’ll be easy,” you admitted. “But I know I want to try. And I know I need you with me.”

Luke reached for your hand, gripping it tightly. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I just… I love you, and I don’t want to screw this up.”

“You won’t,” you said, squeezing his hand. “We won’t.”

For the first time that evening, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Okay,” he said, nodding. “We’ll figure this out.”

THREE WEEKS LATER

It had been weeks since you told Luke you were pregnant, and while things between you had softened, an unspoken tension still lingered. You were both trying, Luke especially. He had been sticking around more, helping out with things he never used to notice, like stocking the pantry with your favourite snacks or making sure the coffee pot was always ready in the morning. But sometimes, you’d catch him staring off into space, lost in thought and his jaw tight.

Tonight was one of those nights.

The two of you sat on the couch, a documentary playing on the TV that neither of you was really watching. Your legs were tucked under a blanket while Luke sat at the other end, absently fiddling with the strings of his hoodie.

“Luke,” you said softly, pulling his attention away from the screen.

He looked over at you, his blue eyes clouded with worry. “Yeah?”

“How are you feeling about… everything?”

He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line before he sighed. “Honestly? Still kind of overwhelmed,” he admitted. “Every day, it sinks in more, but I don’t know if I’m doing enough. Or if I can even do enough.”

“Luke, you’re here,” you said gently. “That’s more than enough for me right now.”

“Yeah, but just being here doesn’t mean I’ve got it all figured out,” he countered, frustration creeping into his voice. “What happens when the baby actually gets here? What if I mess it all up?”

“You won’t,” you said firmly, shifting closer to him. “And you don’t need to have all the answers right now.”

He rubbed a hand over his face and leaned back against the couch. “I just want to be good at this,” he murmured. “For you. For the baby.”

Your heart ached at his honesty. Reaching out, you placed your hand over his. “You already are,” you said. “The fact that you care this much, that you’re thinking about it every second, it shows how much this means to you. And that’s what matters.”

Luke turned his hand over, intertwining his fingers with yours. He didn’t say anything right away, but his grip tightened as if holding on to you grounded him.

“I looked up some stuff earlier,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Stuff?”

“Yeah… about pregnancy. What you’re going through, what I should be doing to help. I even looked up prenatal vitamins to make sure you’re taking the right ones.” He let out a nervous laugh. “I guess I just needed to feel like I was doing something, you know?”

Your chest tightened, warmth spreading through you at his confession. “Luke,” you said softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he teased lightly. “I’m still figuring this out.”

“We both are,” you reminded him.

He rested his cheek against the top of your head, the tension in his body easing for the first time that night. “Do you think we’ll be good at this? At being parents?”

“I think we’ll be better than we give ourselves credit for,” you said.

A comfortable silence settled between you. For a moment, the weight of everything seemed lighter.

“You know,” he said, a mix of nerves and excitement in his voice, “I was thinking… maybe we could tell my parents soon if you’re ready. They’d probably want to know.”

Your breath hitched. It was a big step, one that made the pregnancy feel even more real. His expression was hopeful yet hesitant. You nodded.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice steady. “I think I’m ready.”

Luke smiled for the first time in days, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “We’ve got this,” he whispered.

SEVERAL DAYS LATER

You sat in the passenger seat of Luke’s car, watching the scenery blur as you made your way to his parents’ house. The test, the doctor’s appointment, and the initial shock were behind you, but this, telling Luke’s parents, felt like a challenge on its own.

Luke’s grip on the steering wheel was tight. His jaw was set, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.

“You okay?” you asked softly.

He glanced at you and forced a small smile. “Yeah. Just thinking about how to say it.”

You reached over and placed your hand on his thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “They’re going to be happy, Luke. It’s Ellen and Jim. They love us.”

“I know,” he sighed. “But it’s still a lot. What if they think we’re too young or that it’ll mess up my career?”

“Your mom will probably cry, your dad will give some practical advice, and then we’ll all hug. It’ll be fine.”

Luke nodded but didn’t seem convinced.

When you arrived at the Hughes’ home, the familiar smells of freshly baked cookies and the sound of hockey commentary from the living room made you feel more at ease. Ellen greeted you both with a warm hug, calming your nerves a little.

“You’re just in time! I made peanut butter cookies,” she said, ushering you into the kitchen.

“It was Luke’s favourite,” Jim teased from the dining table, where he was tasting one of the freshly baked cookies.

“Still is,” Luke said with a weak laugh, earning a curious look from his dad.

The four of you settled into the living room. Ellen and Jim began small talk with the both of you, but the weight of the real reason for your visit sat on your shoulders.

Ellen caught on first. “Is everything okay?” she asked, tilting her head. “You both seem… nervous.”

Luke’s hand found yours, his fingers lacing tightly with yours. He cleared his throat and glanced at you for reassurance.

“Yeah, uh, everything’s fine,” he said. “Actually, it’s more than fine. We just—we have some news.”

Jim folded his arms and leaned forward slightly. “What kind of news?”

Luke looked at you again, and you gave him a small nod. He took a deep breath.

“We’re… we’re having a baby,” he said, the words tumbling out quickly.

For a moment, the room was silent. Ellen’s mouth opened slightly, her eyes darting between the two of you. Jim’s brow furrowed as he processed the news.

“You’re pregnant?” Ellen finally asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.

You nodded. “Yes.”

And then, as predicted, Ellen burst into tears. “Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hands. “That’s amazing news!”

Jim leaned back in his chair, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Well, that’s a big step. Congratulations, you two.”

Ellen jumped up, pulling both you and Luke into a tight hug. “I can’t believe it! A baby! I’m going to be a grandma!”

Luke exhaled, his tension visibly easing. “You’re not mad?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

“Mad?” Ellen pulled back, hands on his cheeks. “Luke, this is wonderful. It’ll be a lot of work, but you two are going to be amazing parents. And we’ll help every step of the way.”

“Absolutely,” Jim added, standing to join the group hug. “You’re not alone in this. Family is everything.”

Luke looked at you, his blue eyes shining with relief. “Told you,” you whispered, and he chuckled softly.

The rest of the evening was filled with talks about baby names, parenting advice, and promises of Ellen knitting baby hats. The weight on Luke’s shoulders seemed to lift with his parents’ excitement.

Later that night, as you drove home, Luke reached over and took your hand. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“For what?”

“For reminding me this is going to be okay,” he said. “And for being the best girlfriend I could ask for.”

You squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. “We’ve got this,” you said, echoing his words from a few days ago.

He smiled at that.

DURING THE SECOND TRIMESTER

You hadn’t even opened your eyes yet, but you could already feel Luke moving around the room. The faint clatter of plates and the smell of something burning told you exactly what was going on.

With a sleepy laugh, you called out, “Luke, are you trying to set the kitchen on fire?”

There was a beat of silence before his voice responded, a little defensive. “It’s not burning; it’s just… toasty.”

You rolled out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen, finding him standing at the stove in sweatpants and an old Michigan hoodie, waving a spatula at the smoking pan. He glanced at you sheepishly.

“Breakfast in bed,” he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess: eggs and toast?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, grinning despite himself. “Figured it was safe enough.”

You walked over and slipped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his back. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

He turned the stove off and faced you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I wanted to. You’re growing a whole human; the least I can do is make you breakfast.”

You laughed, lightly swatting him on the chest. “Maybe stick to smoothies next time.”

Luke’s attentiveness did not stop there.

At night, he would lie next to you, his hand on your stomach, waiting for a kick. The first time he felt one, his eyes lit up like he’d just scored in overtime.

“That’s insane,” he whispered, staring at your belly like it held the secrets of the universe. “They’re really in there.”

“Where else would they be?” you teased, but your heart swelled at the wonder in his voice.

Then there were the books.

Stacks of them appeared on the coffee table, everything from practical guides to detailed pregnancy manuals. You often found him flipping through them late at night, squinting at diagrams and detailed instructions.

One evening, you caught him staring at a page about swaddling techniques. His brow furrowed, lips moving slightly as if rehearsing the steps.

“You know,” you said, sitting down beside him, “babies don’t come with instruction manuals.”

“Yeah, but they should,” he muttered, holding up the book. “I mean, look at this! Who knew folding a blanket could be this complicated?”

You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You’re going to be a great dad, Luke. Blanket folding skills or not.”

And then there was decorating the nursery.

Luke spent most of his free time preparing the nursery. He assembled the crib (after three tries), organized baby clothes by size, and insisted on painting the walls himself.

“You don’t have to do all of this,” you told him one afternoon as he measured for curtains.

“I want to,” he replied without missing a beat. “I want everything to be perfect for them.”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder at you. “And for you.”

But it wasn’t just the big gestures. It was the small ones that meant the most.

It was the way he kept a stash of salt-and-vinegar chips in the pantry because they were your latest craving.

It was the way he always adjusted the pillows behind your back whenever you sat down, muttering about “keeping you comfortable.”

It was the way he sent texts during away games, even if he only had a few minutes between practices and games.

How are you feeling today?

Are you drinking enough water?

One night, as you lay in bed, Luke traced patterns on your stomach, his voice quiet.

“I still don’t know if I’m ready,” he admitted. “But I want to be. And I want to make sure you never feel like you’re doing this alone.”

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together. “You already make me feel that way, Luke.”

He exhaled slowly, tension leaving his body. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I’ll keep trying, every day.”

A COUPLE MONTHS LATER

You lay on the couch, scrolling through your phone and trying to ignore the dull, persistent pain in your back. Luke was a few feet away, aimlessly passing a foam puck between his hands, clearly restless. He hadn’t stopped fidgeting for days now, and you couldn’t blame him; your due date had come and gone, and you were both on edge.

“I think this kid’s taking after you already,” you teased, glancing up at him. “Always late to the party.”

Luke smirked, tossing the puck onto the coffee table. “Or they’re just waiting for the perfect time, like a game-winning goal.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could reply, a sharp, unfamiliar pain ripped through your stomach, stealing your breath. You instinctively pressed a hand to your belly, eyes wide.

“Y/N?” Luke asked, his voice laced with concern as he immediately sat up straighter. “What’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but then you felt it: the unmistakable sensation of your water breaking. “Luke,” you said, your voice shaking slightly, “my water just broke.”

For a second, Luke froze, staring at you like you’d just announced the world was ending. Then he shot to his feet, panic written all over his face. “Wait—what? Like, right now? Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure, unless I suddenly forgot how to hold my bladder,” you said dryly, but the wave of another contraction cut off your sarcasm.

Luke bolted into action, scrambling around the room like a tornado. “Okay, okay, uh, the hospital bag! Where’s the bag? And your shoes! Do you have shoes? Oh my god, should we call an ambulance? No, wait, we can drive—we can drive. Right?”

“Luke,” you said through gritted teeth, gripping the arm of the couch. “The bag is by the door, my shoes are on my feet, and yes, we can drive. Just breathe.”

He stopped mid-spin, exhaling sharply, trying to calm himself down. “Right. Breathe. I can do that. I’m breathing.”

“Good,” you said, trying not to laugh despite the pain. “Now grab the keys, and let’s go before this baby decides to make their debut on the living room floor.”

The car ride to the hospital was a blur of speeding, frequent checks to make sure you were okay, and Luke muttering to himself under his breath. “This is fine. We’ve got this. Totally fine.”

“Luke,” you said through another contraction, your voice tight, “you’re doing great, but maybe slow down just a little. I’d rather not get a speeding ticket.”

“Right, right, sorry,” he said, easing up on the gas pedal but still darting worried glances your way.

By the time you were settled into a delivery room, Luke had transformed into a nervous ball of energy. He was constantly by your side, holding your hand so tightly it almost hurt, peppering you with questions.

“Do you need water? Or ice? Or a back rub? Oh my god, am I supposed to be doing something? Should I call someone?”

You squeezed his hand, managing a small smile between contractions. “You’re doing fine, Luke. Just stay here with me, okay?”

His eyes softened, and he nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”

Hours passed in a haze of pain, encouragement, and Luke’s endless stream of reassurances. “You’re so strong, Y/N. You’re amazing. You’re doing so well. I love you so much.”

And when the time finally came to push, his face was a mix of awe and sheer terror as he stood by your side, holding your hand as if his life depended on it.

“You’ve got this,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re incredible, Y/N. I’m so proud of you.”

“It’s a boy!” one of the nurses announced, and Luke’s hand dropped from yours as he turned to look.

The doctor carefully placed the baby on your chest, and Luke froze, staring down at the tiny, wriggling bundle in awe.

“Is that…” His voice cracked. “That’s our son.”

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you looked down at your baby boy. “Yeah. That’s him.”

Luke’s hands shook as he reached out, gently brushing a finger against the baby’s cheek. The baby’s cries quieted slightly, and Luke let out a shaky laugh.

“Hi, buddy,” he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. “I’m your dad. And you… you’re perfect.”

Later, in the quiet hospital room, Luke sat beside you, cradling your son in his arms. The baby had fallen asleep, his tiny fist wrapped around Luke’s finger.

“He’s so small,” Luke murmured, his eyes never leaving the baby’s face. “How is he so small?”

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “They don’t come out NHL-sized, you know.”

He chuckled softly, the sound filled with awe. “I can’t believe we made him. That he’s ours.”

You reached out, gently stroking the baby’s head. “What should we name him?”

Luke hesitated for a moment, then looked at you, his eyes shining. “How about Caden?” he suggested quietly. “You always liked that name.”

“Caden Hughes,” you said, testing it out. “I love it.”

As the three of you lay in the hospital room, Luke sat beside you, cradling the baby in his arms with a look of pure adoration.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving Caden’s face, “I didn’t think it was possible, but I think I just fell in love with you all over again.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder. “Me too.”

And in that moment, everything felt exactly as it should be.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ MAIN MASTERLIST ✷ LH43 MASTERLIST

[xxtc-96xx]

Found a Totally Legal format to watch Mufasa: The Lion King so as someone who was formerly deeply involved in the lion king years back it seems right to give my thoughts:

Jesus wept what have they done (there will also be spoilers see more to read my stupid rant lol)

Now I can see a few spots in the story that could have lead to interesting ideas, in a better story for sure. The problem is the story overall was incredibly cluttered, they rushed from one point to the next and didn’t let any moments sit and breathe. Kiara was cute but Timon and Pumbaa practically held the audience hostage every time an interlude in Rafiki’s story happened with the same routine of “why aren’t WE in the story???” Every time undermining any authentic moments with Kiara and Rafiki

The biggest gripe I have is with Taka and Mufasa’s relationship or lack there of. Aside from having a song saying they’re brothers they hardly have a bond at all that we see. Mufasa is forced to stay away from Taka in the short time they’re even in Taka’s home, Mufasa has a closer bond with Taka’s mother Eshe than he does with his “brother”

Even dumber that several brief lines, Obashi, Taka’s father, keeps mentioning blood bonds are all that matter and Taka kind of argued against that as if the lesson here is that there’s more to family than blood…..except we all know what happens with Scar so in the end his father was right, blood bonds are all that matter because it took next to nothing to turn on Mufasa and he murdered him later in life anyways lol

Even on their Land Before Time style journey that takes them to the pride lands I feel nothing towards Mufasa and Taka, I never once believe they had a deep brotherly bond of any sort. Which makes it even more stupid that all it takes for Taka to betray all of them is Sarabi deciding she has feelings for Mufasa and not Taka.

Mufasa even played as a wingman and tried his best to direct Sarabi to Taka but in the end the two of them bonded instead, and Taka flips the traitor switch instantly over that without even confronting him about it and from then on he speaks as his 2019 Incel murder counterpart, even confessed to Mufasa proudly of his betrayal and yet Mufasa and everyone else is stupid enough to just let him stick around anyways, every line he delivered post betrayal was said in the same way one would say “I’m going to murder every one of you and also you smell bad”

Overall a very frustrating and hollow experience, it didn’t feel like it added anything to the overall universe and now Scar apologists have more to work with despite the fact Taka in the film is terrible and hardly has any redeeming qualities XD

If you want a better falling out story as I’ve said before, watch Transformers One. You feel the bond between Orion Pax and D16, you sympathize with D16’s slow decent into a dark place and you mourn the lost brotherhood between Optimus and Megatron but still know that Megatron was still in the wrong by the end. I felt none of that in Mufasa

Also Mufasa’s dad never told him about the great kings of the past because he’s not a king, and the throw away line in the terrible 2019 remake Zazu said specifically for the prequel mentioned he knew a headstrong cub who was always getting into scrapes but Zazu didn’t meet Mufasa until he was a young adult XD

[starcrescentisz]

── BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND.

໒꒰ྀི ^ ⸝⸝ ^ ꒱ྀིა박성훈 x fem! reader content established relationship non-idol au older brother's best friend trope reader is jay's younger sister ᥫ᭡ warning explicit sexual content unprotected sex (stay safe!) petnames used kissing pussy eating fingering begging squirting overstimulation sunghoon being a tease and wear glasses (important trust) jay cockblocking (not sorry). . .!? 1111— mlist.

note. i'm gonna make every sunghoon post with him wearing glasses. no one and nothing will stop me!!! also i've made a taglist, feel free to send an ask if you wish to be tagged in my future posts :) taglist. @tfwbluu

You have met your older brother’s friends a couple of times, having known them since you were young. They were a loud and chaotic group, if one were to ask for your opinion on them. But among them, there was someone who piqued your interest. Sunghoon isn't as talkative as the others. He mostly keeps to himself but you have seen him cracking jokes or making fun of your brother; Jay, resulting in the two bickering back and forth. It’s a common sight to hear them argue about the smallest things, much to everyone’s amusement. 

You knew it was wrong to have feelings for your brother’s friend but you couldn’t help it. Not when Sunghoon was nothing but kind and caring towards you. His features were simply another plus point and everything about him simply makes you swoon. You had to walk around your brother, hiding your relationship with Sunghoon from him. You know how overprotective Jay can be when it comes to you. The last thing you want is to end Sunghoon and Jay’s friendship. You knew how the two are practically glued to the hips, always coming as a pair.

“Ngh, Hoonie, fuck, hah, m-more,” you whined, your back arching off the bed. 

Your legs were slung over your boyfriend’s broad shoulders. Your left hand was covering your mouth; a feeble attempt of muffling your moans while the other gripped onto his abyssal-like hair. You couldn’t help but bucked your hips forward, craving more. It was a miracle you had survived this long before meeting Sunghoon and you came to learn that he was amazing with his mouth and fingers. 

Your boyfriend hums, moving his long, thick fingers in a scissor-like movement, opening and preparing you for what’s to come. Your eyes rolled up at a harsh suck of your clit, his tongue delving deeper. In the span of what felt like years when it was actually an hour, he had managed to make you cum a total of two times. The first was done by his fingers while the second was done by his tongue. Currently, he was pushing you over your comfort zone, hoping you could cum a third time. 

As they always say, third times the charm, right?

You squirmed about on the drenched sheets, gripping onto the pillow for dear life. Breathy moans flowed from your lips, like water falling from a water tap. 

“Fuck!” 

You gasped, thighs buckling as Sunghoon swirls the overly stimulated bud with his tongue. You felt it, the fire in your abdomen and how heat was spreading under your skin. Throwing all caution out of the window with the only thing in your mind was chasing your impending climax, you frantically jerked your hips forward. Your boyfriend got the hint, allowing you to fuck his tongue and it didn’t took you long to reach your climax. 

As compared to the orgasms you had before, this was more powerful and it took a deep toll on your body. You weren’t sure what happened as you laid on the bed, loosening your grip on Sunghoon’s hair, eyes closing to take a much-needed breather. 

“Woah, that was hot. I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

You opened your eyes, only to pause at the lewd scene before you. The frames of his glasses were coated in a thin layer of your juices. Some were dripping as it trailed down the frames, landing on the sheets. Your breath caught in your throat as Sunghoon licked his lips, his chin was glistening underneath the ceiling light. You wanted to apologize but he waved you off, knowing what you wanted to say. 

“You don’t have to apologize, princess,” he grins, moving closer until your noses graze against one another. “But I believe I should get a reward for making you squirt for the first time, right?” 

You light-heartedly rolled your eyes, choosing not to reply and kissed him instead. Sunghoon grinned into the kiss, parting your lips with his tongue, allowing you to taste yourself. He positioned himself in between your legs, one hand trailing down to fondle with your hardened peaks. You moaned into his mouth, the sound doing wonders to his body and mind. Wanting to hear more, Sunghoon broke the kiss. He aligned his cock to your needy, neglected and sensitive dripping entrance. 

“Look at you, I didn’t even have to use lube,” he breathed out, unable to tear his eyes away from the erotic sight of watching his cock disappearing inch by inch, getting swallowed by your greedy clit. 

“Oh god.. Hoonie,” you whined, throwing your head back, your gummy and velvety walls sucking him in, making him groan at the feeling. 

By the time he was buried deep in you, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. Sunghoon started thrusting, hips snapping against yours as he massaged your inner thighs—wanting you to relax and enjoy yourself. The bed moved along with your movements, the bedframe hitting the wall at equal intervals. At this rate, you’ve long forgotten that your brother had arrived home after a hectic day of back-to-back classes. Which was why none of you were prepared for the unexpected moment of Jay opening the door without knocking. 

“Hey sis, could you—Wait, what the fuck!?” He asks, raising his head from his phone, only for him to shriek at the top of his lungs. 

Both of you whirled your heads to his direction and your reactions were immediate. Sunghoon scrambled to move away from you while you pulled the sheets up, covering your body from your brother’s poor eyes. Jay had shielded his eyes with one hand, back facing the both of you. 

“Uh, it’s not what it looks like,” your boyfriend chirps in and you mentally face-palmed. 

“Not what it looks like? Pray tell me, then what does it look like because I can’t believe I saw my best friend fucking my sister. Oh my God, please God, help me,” Jay exclaimed. 

The two of you shared a look and you shrugged your shoulders, having gotten used to your brother’s dramatic antics. 

“Come down to the living room and we’re going to talk about this. And you better not be fucking or I will kill you with my bare hands, is that understood?” Jay directed the threat to his best friend, who nervously gulped. 

“Yes, sir.” 

When Jay left after closing the door along with him muttering about how he needs to bleach his eyes, you ran a hand through your hair. “Well, I guess we’re going to die under the hands of my brother.”

“...Please don’t say that. I’m actually scared of my life now.” 

[skittles-secrets]

I just wanna say I love your writing sm! 🥰 and I’d like to request hcs on how the batboys act when they have a crush on the reader, and how they work themselves up to asking them out? Tysm!

how they act when they have a crush 😯

bruce wayne

had known the feeling all too well. he'd had lots of crushes before. bruce is worried, though, because most of his other relationships ended in some sort of crazy plot twist and he couldn't handle that again. plus, he was driving himself crazy worrying.

will they not like me after they spend more than a day with me at a time? will they break up with me when they see all the kids? how can i tell them i'm batman?

he got over it though when his eldest son, dick, hit him on the back and encouraged him. "bruce, you can't keep waiting around. if you want something, you have to get it before it's gone, okay?"

so, then he wasn't so afraid of having his little crush anymore.

dick grayson

could've asked you out a loooong time ago. he has the confidence. he has the looks. he was a fan favorite in all of gotham. so why hadn't you? well, he wasn't sure if you'd go for someone like him. he didn't know of your past relationships, let alone if you'd had any. so that's how he talked himself out of it.

it was only when he caught himself giggling at your texts to him at 3 a.m. when he realized that he was down bad. he needed to confess to you. if he didn't, he'd be stuck pining after you and laughing at your texts like a hormonal teenager for the rest of his sad, sad life.

jason todd

didn't really understand the feeling at first. he didn't get exposed to crushes and those sorts of things as a child because he didn't have the luxury of elementary school. then, he spent most of his teenage to young adult years.. well.. dead, so... it's not like he could have been dating anyone then.

that's why he was so confused and nervous. why doesn't talking to you feel like anyone else? why does he mentally scold himself after every conversation for every stupid thing he said.

he realized he had to confess to you on one of the occasions he made you smile. he realized that he wanted to do it over again a million more times, because he wanted to be the one to make you smile and laugh. he wanted to be there for you while you slept, or were sad, or scared. damn.. he really likes you.

tim drake

was no stranger to crushes. he'd always been the type to look at someone and crush on them for years, never say anything, and then it goes away when he realizes that it's never gonna work out. that's what his crush was like, pining after you.

he just automatically assumed that every person he'd like would never even consider dating him. it was weird, because he's a good looking guy and there's no reason for him to think like that.

he realized that he needed to confess to you when he found himself accidentally stalking your instagram so hard he hit the first post you ever made. also, jason called him out for it in front of damian and damian is mean so he got embarrassed and flustered and decided that it wouldn't be so bad if he actually did say something to you.

thank you so much for the request and the follow! i loved this idea, and it was so fun to write. thank you for liking my writing!

[quarterlifekitty]

Desperate times

Based on the results of this post and poll

cw: dark content. Kidnapping, threats, drugging, noncon, restraint, the whole shebang.

❌ Gaz is starting to feel a little disheartened, babe. You don’t seem as committed to making this work as he is… But that’s okay. He told you he loved you, and love means always being willing to put in the effort, yeah? So if the public approaches aren’t working, maybe you need something more private. It’s easy to get one of his mates to follow you around bars, wait for the perfect moment, and slip something in your drink. It’s easy to know when on the walk home there won’t be any witnesses. The hard part is going to be training you out of hissing and spitting when he gives you sweet words and gentle touches. That’s no way for a bird to treat her man, not when he’s gone through so much for her.

❌Soap is starting to feel a little… restless. This was fun at first, this game of trying to win you back, of cornering you like he was some kind of creep, but now? He just wants his bonnie. He needs you, and he knows you’ll never be as happy with anyone else as you are with him. He starts right from when you wake up after that night of reigniting your passions. You’re saying things you don’t mean, things you’ll regret— and he’s never been able to keep his cool when you get emotional. So if he wraps his hands around your throat and squeezes until you still, he can’t be the only one to blame. Now, he’ll be the first to admit that his worship of your body last night was just a wee bit lackluster… he was too excited for the main event. When you wake up, tied to his bed and gagged, he won’t be making the same mistake. In fact, best start on it now.

⭕️ Ghost doesn’t keep it casual. He doesn’t take baby steps. Just as soon as you return one of his calls, you can barely say hello before he says “I’m comin’ over, dovie.” You’ve never seen him smile like he did on that day before, and quite frankly, you never want to see it again. He looks sick. Drunk on just his proximity to you. He attacks you with his mouth once you answer the door, grunting between heaving breaths that he knew, knew you’d come around, knew you were a good girl, knew you’d never wanna force him to do something he didn’t want to do. He takes you on a few surfaces before he can finally pull his mind together enough to take you to a real bed. Tells you he’s gonna put a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly so this can’t happen again, because honestly? He doesn’t wanna tell you what will happen if it does.

❌Nikolai thought it was cute at first, seeing you try to play at being the big, strong, independent girl. But while his love for you is endless, his patience isn’t. The longer he lets this go on, the more training you’ll need when you come back. So he decides to do the merciful thing, and take you home. It’s a shame you didn’t behave— he would’ve let you sit in the passenger seat with his hand on your thigh the way you used to love. Instead he had to drag you into the back, chemicals soaked in the cloth he put over your mouth and nose. It doesn’t do well for a princess to be out of her tower. No, it isn’t good for anyone, least of all the princess. You don’t realize the dragon is collared and chained to you, that’s okay— he’ll just have to put you in a collar and chains of your own while you get used to things again. Maybe you’d be a little happier with your life inside if you had something little and sweet to take care of, like he does? He could get you that, malýshka. You don’t even need to ask.

I was thinking of making this the last in the series, but maybe we can push it further?

[consistantly-changing]

[Image descriptions in order: a tumblr reblog chain which says:

082: does anyone else want yaoi cocaine

catfanblog: I know that op is probably joking, however I don't understand what's funny...fetishizing mlm relationships isn't funny it is a serious problem. I think you all need to read posts before you reblog them, I'm truly hoping most people reblogging didn't see the "yaoi" part or something. Jfc I thought we were past this

neotrances: kinda homophobic to be agaisnt yaoi cocaine

catfanblog: You have blood on your hands]

[An anonymous tumblr ask which says: hey people are harassing the guy who commented on the yaoi cocaine post could u like get them to stop or something? he seems genuinely upset abt it

neotrances replies: ?? i'm not making anyone do anything and five other people responded to him / were sending him messages before i said anything in the post sorry that's happening but like. i literally did not say anything other than yaoi cocaine

catfanblog reblogs with an image of an anime boy crying in the rain.]

[A tumblr post by vergak which says: Anyways who else wants some yaoi ibuprofen?

catfanblog reblogs saying: Stop tormenting me. Please. I am asking nicely]

[A tumblr reblog chain which says

vampirate: ok so aside from this person does anyone else want yaoi cocaine

catfanblog: You aren't funny, kid.

atrisrising: but is the yaoi cocaine free?

catfanblog: Be honest. Would you be sad if I died. Would you feel guilty]

[An anonymous tumblr ask which says: very insensitive of you to say that my boyfriend is on a yaoi morphine drip at the yaoi hosptial because of a yaoi cocaine overdose :/

vergak replies with a fanart of Sonic the hedgehog unconscious in a hospital bed with Knuckles standing beside him and crying.

catfanblog reblogs saying in all capitals: enough about the yaoi drugs enough about the yaoi drugs]

[A tumblr post which says: All of you want me dead

catfanblog reblogs saying: All I do is reblog saying my opinion and everyone had to attack me. Just leave mlm alone

#vent tw]

[Tags which say #tw truama #traumacore #depressed #actually insane #pain #suffering #anger #hatred #sadness #yaoi cocaine]

[A screenshot of a post on catfanblog's blog, which shows seven images of crying anime boys.]

[A tumblr post by getouuu, showing a drawing of two anime boys making out (who might be L and Light from Death Note), with the caption "Yaoi moment." Below the image they say: catfanblog this could be us if we took some Yaoi cocaine and relaxed <3

catfanblog reblogs saying: i'm actually feeling something between us... should we explore this? let me know]

[A screenshot of DMs between vergak and catfanblog, which say:

vergak: Legitimately brilliant satire. Id love to share a yaoi blunt with you.

catfanblog: i want you]

Yaoi cocaine saga

[redwinelew]

knee socks | lewis hamilton

summary | singer!y/n released a song which exposes lewis' lack of attention toward her in their relationship and he isn't too pleased with it.

warnings | 18+. smut. oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, vaginal sex, dirty talk, lewis being a little mean, english is not my first language, pls lmk what else i missed

author's note | i have nothing to post rn and this has been sitting in my drafts so weeks so here you go. lmk if u guys enjoy this and if u want me to write more written fics.

lewis is a private man, he made that clear all throughout his life, since the first world championship trophy was handed to him, the moments everybody's eyes in the world started to set on him, following his every move, to this day. he doesn't like channeling his personal matters to the public. sure there are a lot of people who'd be interested to know, journalists who would sell their souls for an exclusive interview with him, but nothing can make him give up his peace anymore. he had his moments when he was younger. everything was open to interpretation for the media and fans. but as he gets older, things changed. private life should stay private.

you are a musician. and it's risky, dating a musician. he's seen it. he's been with one, and he is one. he thought he already knew, he thought he understood what he was getting himself back into. you are different from his ex. you make your own music, write your own songs, not afraid to be vulnerable through your art, never care however fans and media are going to interpret them. they'll never know the truth. it's none of their business anyway. he doesn't regret dating you, though. nothing could make him regret being with you. he wouldn't trade it even for his 8th championship.

but deep down, lewis knows this day will come. where a little inconvenience happens in your relationship was enough to set you off completely. the day where you stopped listening to the logical part of your brain and follow your heart instead. the day you pissed off enough to finally say fuck it.

in your defense, you were so caught up in your feelings. part of you also honestly didn't care. you are a singer, a musician, as much as he is. this is how you express yourself. he should have known that by now. if he didn't want the whole world to know how fucking busy he is with the race season to the point where he never spent time with you anymore, he should have pay more attention to you.

you would have argued with that if only you could form a single coherent sentence right now. but all you could say was—

"please...."

do not ask how long has this been going on. he could lie and say hours and you'll believe it. he could ask you to do anything and you'll obey. it's not like you have a choice. if it pleases him, if it will somehow get you the release you have been desperately craving, fucking hell, you'll do it. that's how it is right now. you, half naked on the bed. pants discarded somewhere on the carpeted bedroom floor. panties gone to fuck knows where. his old band t-shirt that you're wearing is pushed up, exposing your belly and almost your chest.

him? in between your legs. inked hands holding your thighs open for his tongue to explore your folds in every way he knows, drawing all kinds of sounds out of you, pushing you to the edge again and again but not quite giving you the release you've been desperately needing. not after what you said about him in the song, no.

a whine escapes your lips yet again when he pulls himself off of you just as you're about to reach another peak. he looks up, a smirk decorating his face as his tongue licks your arousal from his thick lips.

bastard.

"i didn't ask you to beg." he replies calmly, caressing your inner thigh all the way up to your knee, making you almost jerk up at the slightest of his touch.

of course he is calm. he's enjoying this. torturing you. driving you insane. god how you wish the tables are turn right now. how you wish that you have the energy to flip the two of you and get your revenge on him, showing him how it feels to be in your shoes. he'd be worse than you are right now. you can say that confidently because you've seen it. some rare moments where he handed over the control to you, letting you take charge in bed and do whatever you wanted to him. easiest way to say, he was a mess.

"you're not being fair—" was instead all you could say in such a pathetic tone that even you did not recognize yourself.

"i wasn't planning to be."

your pussy clenches around nothing at the casualness of his reply. your mind is pissed at him for ruining your orgasms but your body couldn't help but craving for his touch. you've seen the dominance side of him almost every night and yet the calmness that he's radiating right now even though you know how angry he is at you and your song is enough to send shivers down your spine.

there's something about lewis being angry and yet not completely showing it.

it turns you on even more.

"tell me what i want to hear first." he demands, his thick digits rubbing your bundle of nerves. your back arches into his touch. your eyelids flutter, broken moans fall from your lips.

the pleasure didn't last long. a soft, frustrated sigh leaves you as do his fingers from your clit. just when you were going to try catching your breath, he plunges two fingers inside without warning.

"fuck— oh my god—"

he hovers above you, eyes never leaving your face, watching your every reaction, the way your jaw hangs low. the thickness of his digits makes you feel so full already, you couldn't form neither words nor sounds.

"fuck, fuck—" and when he moves his fingers, you already saw heaven. the wet squelching sound from your arousal is so sinful it almost made you feel embarrassed at how wet you still are even after having your pleasure punished by him. your hand reaches up to his free arm near your head, clinging to him for support. your nails dig deep into his inked skin, drawing a silent hiss from him.

"come on," he says again. "tell me what i want to hear."

this might be it. he's fingering you with passion, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, making your legs tremble. he never half-assed anything in his life, especially when it comes to your pleasure but something tells you that maybe this is when he thinks that you have had your lesson and it's time you give you that release. he just loves you that much. and you always get what you want.

"n-no." you stutter in defiance.

he smirks again. your denial only makes this more fun for him, which is apparent in the way his fingers move rougher and faster right now. and you notice how his other digits are avoiding your clit, making it a little harder for you to reach another peak.

"four orgasms denied and you still wanna be stubborn?"

only four? it felt like hundreds, you manage to think to yourself despite how hazy your mind feels right now.

"please...." you croak out, and that's how far you'll beg for his forgiveness.

but he's not satisfied. he pulls out his fingers, and you would have groaned if you could even speak right now.

"no...."

"don't worry, sweetie," he cuts you off surprisingly, sitting up straight again. you prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he lines up the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing your folds slightly. you feel as if air has been knocked out of your lungs. you didn't even think that this was a possibility tonight, to be fucked by him. to feel his thick cock inside you. genuinely you thought he would leave you high and dry, though it's very unlikely for him. but still. he could truly be that cruel when he wants to.

"i'll make you come if that's what you wanted so badly. but only on my cock. and i'll make you come again and again until i finally get my apology."

you swallow thickly.

that is certainly a promise.

[drunkinyourbenz]

୨ৎ sweet girl. b.e

୨ৎ roomate!billie eilish x fem!reader

୨ৎ genre: smut

୨ৎ content: SUB TOP BILLIE EVERYONE CHEER !! umm praise kink, begging, she's so so so desperate and lowkey a loser but we love her for it, oral (r recieving), anyway i love this so much please please please read it, possibly gonna have another part (or many)

୨ৎ note: you're welcome <3 (this fic serves as an apology for the angst fic i posted the other day) happy new year my loves <3

billie was your roommate, and she had been for a little over a year now. you got along well, and if you were asked, you'd probably say you were friends. she was easy to talk to and easy to live with.

she did tend to get jealous whenever you had your hookups, which happened a lot more often than you'd like to admit. you were single, but people always showed momentary interest in you at the parties you went to.

you always assumed her dislike towards the people you hooked up with was just annoyance at the noise or something; you never thought much of it. what you didn't know was that she had the biggest crush on you, and wanted nothing more than to drag you away from the many hookups and keep you all to herself.

everyone who knew billie knew she was obsessed with you. she wasn’t subtle about it, you were just infuriatingly oblivious. her eyes always landed on you, whether you were in class together, having a movie night, or simply in passing. she didn’t think she’d ever had a crush so…all-consuming before. and with how oblivious you were, it was honestly infuriating.

but she didn't do anything impulsive—somehow. she wanted everything that happened between the two of you to be perfect.

a shift in the trajectory of your relationship with her seemed to be approaching, however. you'd been at a party—something that didn't surprise her. you were… making the most of your college years, to say the least.

when you got home, she took one look at the outfit you wore—taking in the way the fabric hung from your body and the way your makeup looked so immaculate despite having been at a party for hours. her mind ran wild as she looked you up and down.

she felt like a lovesick fool, and for a moment, she understood why her friends called her a loser.

she was so caught up in taking in your gorgeous appearance when she saw you walk past towards your room, that it took her a moment to comprehend who was following you.

a girl. some girl from the party. maybe a sorority girl, maybe someone from one of your classes, maybe someone you'd only just met. either way, she hated it. she hated that you were so blind that you couldn't see what was right in front of you—her.

you and the girl were such an odd pairing together, billie thought. you were way out of her league. sure, the girl was pretty, but there was pretty and then there was you pretty. in billie’s mind, no one was prettier than you.

your new hookup's prettiness aside, she clearly didn't care about you. she was there to fuck and then leave, and billie hated that. you could so easily get any girl you wanted, and you could get them to treat you right. but for a reason billie couldn't quite understand, you preferred these meaningless hookups.

billie's eyes trailed behind you as you led the girl into your room. you knew you were going to get a pretty average hookup out of her, but a hookup nonetheless.

just as you closed your door and the girl sat down on your bed, billie reopened the door and walked inside. what came out of her mouth was a blatant lie, but the girl didn't know that.

"hey, sorry girl. we actually have guests coming over, you might have to leave." her voice was dripping with fake politeness as she sent the girl a deceivingly sweet smile.

the girl left pretty quickly, sending you a slightly dirty look at the fact that the hookup she'd hoped for wouldn't be happening.

you heard her slam the door on the way out, and rolled your eyes. that attitude merely proved that you hadn't really lost anything.

you weren't super upset, because you knew the hookup wouldn't be all that good anyway, but you were still horny, so you were slightly frustrated at billie for interrupting.

you turned to billie and raised an eyebrow. both of you know that the excuse she spilled was absolutely a lie, guests were a rarity for the two of you.

"well, that was a lie. what was that for?”.

billie simply shrugged, “didn't like her vibe.”

you scoffed at that, “that's for me to decide. it's my hookup.”

billie rolled her eyes belligerently, “sure, but the hookup wouldn't have even been all that. plenty of other pretty girls who could touch you better.”

when she spoke, you raised an eyebrow. “oh? such as?”

nervousness flashed behind her eyes for a moment, before she spoke with an air of finality. “me.”

you blink slowly in surprise at her blunt response, and once her answer sinks in, i feel heat rise to my cheeks. every little thing is adding up, the lingering looks and the soft touches and the—oh. it made sense suddenly. billie had a crush on you, you realised. you spoke again slowly, watching her carefully. "...you...think you could fuck me better...?”

she swallowed, a slight blush on her face as she nodded. “i know i could.”

a small smirk makes it's way into your lips, “prove it, then.”

billie’s eyes lit up, as if she were a child on christmas who had just been gifted her dream present. she stepped slightly closer to you, “thought you'd never ask.”

there was a long moment where the two of you just stared at each other, and then you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers. the moment you let your tongue enter her mouth, you felt her practically melt in your arms.

her breath caught in her throat as you kissed her, her hands moving to grip your shoulders tightly. as you'd suspected, the dominant act melted away the moment you made your move. she whimpered softly against your lips, parting them willingly as your tongue explored her mouth "fuck…”

when the two of you stepped back and tripped onto your bed, she broke the kiss reluctantly, her breath coming in soft pants. she looked at you, her eyes hazy with desire, her hair already slightly messy, and her lips parted. “holy shit,” she muttered, although more to herself than you.

with a shaky breath, she looked at you, trying to cling to the last bit of composure she had left but failing miserable. her desperation was crystal clear, she wanted—no, needed to make you feel good. she let her hands fumble with the hem of your top, her actions affected by her intense desire, coming across as rushed and messy. “i’ve imagined this so many times…”

your lips twisted into a smirk, letting your hand drift to her cheek. “yeah, baby? what’ve you imagined?”

a soft whine left her lips, and you could’ve sworn the sound altered your brain chemistry. her words came out in a shy whisper “...your hands in my hair while i…”

your lips twitched up into a sly smile at her shyness, and you watched as she trailed off. you knew what she was going to say, of course, you just wanted to hear her say it. “hm? while you what, sweet girl? use your words, don’t be shy…”

her cheeks heated up at your words, and she looked down for a moment. you could tell that her heart was practically racing out of her chest. she seemed to contemplate for a while, wondering whether to tell you or to just melt into the floorboards and never be seen again.

when she eventually spoke, the words came out in a rush. “while i eat you out. i’ve imagined it so many times, touched myself thinking about it…”

you found yourself smiling again—oh, she was adorable. such a confident, cocky personality, reduced to a desperate blushing mess just because of…you.

“good girl. see, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” you watched as her eyes practically lit up at the praise, and you made a mental note to praise her more—after all, she was such a sweet girl, how could you not? you looked at her for a moment before continuing, “so…you want to eat me out?”

at those words, her head snapped up and she nodded eagerly with wide, pleading eyes. she was so focused on the prospect of tasting you that she was totally unaware of the way she was inching closer, her hands already moving to unbutton your jeans. “please…let me?”

you hummed softly, taking in her utterly desperate form, before speaking in a soft, teasing voice. “how much do you want it…?”

yet another whine slipped from her lips, the sound so sweet you felt as if you could listen to it for hours. “please, need it so bad. need to taste you, please, please, please. wanted this for so long, please…”

and when she begged so sweetly, how could you ever say no? “go ahead, baby.”

her eyes lit up, and she wasted no time in pushing your jeans down, hooking her fingers in the waistband of your underwear and looking up at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded, and she eagerly slipped your underwear down your thighs. her eyes widen at the sight,

“fuck, oh my god. you’re beautiful.” the words came out in a soft, reverent murmur as she used her hands to gently push your thighs further apart.

she leaned in close, pressing a few soft opened mouthed kisses to your inner thighs as she looked up at you. she let her tongue find your folds, and you heard her instantly moan at the taste.

she sucked your clit into her mouth, looking up at you with an absolutely adoring look in her eyes. the total devotion in her eyes made you feel something…unfamiliar. and god, she was right, it was so much better than your hookups.

her arms wrapped around your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer to her as she continued to eat you out like it was her last meal. she shifted so that one of your legs was hooked over her shoulder to give her better access. she was doing so well, how wet you were and your moans were proof of that. your fingers tangled in her hair, tugging softly and eliciting another string of moans from her.

while she was licking and sucking at your clit, her sweet moans sent vibrations against your cunt.

you moaned softly. you already figured out that she loves praise, and you intended to make her feel good as well, considering she was doing so well for you. "good girl…”

billie looked up at you, your arousal dripping from her mouth, her eyes glazed with desire. she moaned against your pussy, the vibrations causing your legs to shake and your hands to tug her hair slightly harder. she started to pleasure you with renewed enthusiasm, determined to make you lose control.

it didn't take much longer for her to make you fall apart on her mouth, and she eagerly lapped everything up. she was like a starved woman and she was going to make sure she got every last drop. after a minute, she finally dragged herself away from your pussy, looking up at you with your juices dripping from her mouth.

she looked up at you, her eyes practically sparkling. “do you feel good? did i do good for you?”

those words in that pleading and adoring tone almost made you cum all over again. you smiled down at her, your hand moving to cup her cheek softly.

“yeah, my sweet girl. you did so good for me.”

୨ৎ taglist: @47lake @st0nerlesb0 @n0vabug @darkside-0f-the-sun @asterisk-eyes

[alkelkha]

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐓. chapter three

relationship — jinx/powder x fem!blk coded reader

contents&warnings! : wc: 2.7k | post season 2 | lower-case indented | fluff | angst and i'm not comforting you this ch | lowkey unreliable narrator (jinx) | sexual tension if you squint | swapping spit with candy | beach episode | reader is implied to have big boobs | author attempt to write bpd splitting | reader and jinx get into an argument | not everything is sunshine and rainbows, friendship takes work and patience | not beta read | yes i am making this up along i go | PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS FOR FUTURE CHAPTERS |

❛❛ OF COURSE, WE'RE FRIENDS ❜❜

WEEK ONE

after the two of you ran until the sunset it was awkward from there. jinx felt guilty— which she knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it. she practically begged you to be her friend and now chickening out like a pussy every time you get close.

she didn’t know how to be a friend. what does she do? give you hugs? scary!

you on the other hand?

you got comfortable immediately, going to the shop every day, hanging out with her rambling, and asking questions on her latest projects. jinx tried doing the same but there was this twisty turny feeling in her stomach when she tried. she was scared of how you would react.

she wants this. she wants your friendship, she needs it.

maybe it was because she finally cared what someone thought of her. someone that wasn’t silco or vi or isha.

she had to be vulnerable. 

fortunately, you didn't have any of it. you were the type of person to confront the problems ahead. communication was important to you which jinx hated, but appreciated simultaneously. it was beyond uncomfortable. at least it told her how much you valued this friendship between the two of you. you were willing to work things out.

“what does this device do?” your hand ran over the contraption, and with one move, you were covered in glitter. you slowly turned to jinx, looking at her with a deadpan, “don’t laugh—“

jinx nearly falls off her seat from laughing.  

this was painfully new to jinx. being called a ‘friend’, calling someone else her ‘friend’ was treading on unknown territory.

the way bubbles that formed in her heart the day she said yes burst every time you smiled at her as she ranted. that was sweeter than any candy you've given her.

you listen to her when she talks. you laugh at her dumb jokes. you walk with her around the plaza. you stay with her while she works on one of her (harmless) gadgets when you don’t have work. 

she was starting to understand the hype around having a friend. who knew sharing meals with someone made food taste even better? having a friend meant she could talk for hours on end and be met with a voice that wasn’t tearing her down.

is she doing it right? maybe. she isn’t sure herself.

grabbing a cloth, you wiped down your face. it didn’t help much. powder’s laughter wasn’t any help either. 

“you’re helping me clean that up, sprinkles.” powder tosses you a broom with a grin on her lips.

WEEK TWO

stalking your friend is totally normal. there’s nothing wrong in making sure your friend gets to work safely, especially when there’s a gang after her. besides, is it really stalking if she’s hiding in plain sight? she just so happened to blend in with the colorful scenery of flosnum. much like herself, flosnum loves colors.

pink and orange powder that you can get from kicking plot plants. beautifully painted murals. colorful homes. it was a colorblast.

and just like the good friend she is, she knows your schedule by heart!

you wake up around seven am, ready for the day at about eight-thirty, do a bunch of random stuff after that, and show up at her house or shop at eleven am to hang out. on weekends and wednesdays, you work the afternoon shift. mondays and fridays are your days off. the rest you work at night.

you can't blame her for it, she has no idea what she would do if you got hurt. she’s finally settling down, and that took 10 mental breakdowns.

sometimes, while following you, she'll get distracted and end up at the ice cream truck. after trying out all the poor old man could offer, cotton candy became her favorite.

what was she doing again? oh yeah!

your work was demanding, which is odd because she’s been at bars. hell, she grew up at one. she knew what they were like, and it certainly wasn't supposed to be what you were doing. she had never seen a bartender work so hard. powder was pretty sure the job wasn’t supposed to be this intense. 

SEVEN CHIMES was just like its home flosnum with a mature air. paper lanterns that would illuminate a variety of colors and shadows of white stars on the ceiling some days. weekends it would be packed and that was one of those days. 

you were exactly the same while you worked. the customers loved you. even if they were drunk, the only type of handsy they would get is an arm swing around your shoulder. 

your coworker, stella is what you called her, kept your eyes on you a bit too long. stella’s eyes trailed your body up and down before meeting powder’s.

they locked eyes. 

with a smirk, stella broke the contact eye.

.

.

.

okay, what the fuck was the smirk about?

powder slumps down in her seat from the corner of the bar. she already knew she wasn’t going to like her. who the hell did that girl think she was? does she want to fight? because powder will! feeling her eyes twitch she looked down to slip on her pink fuzzy drink.

“baby blue?”

jinx's eyes shot up to the voice. it was you! in all your glory, the blue light hitting your pretty dark skin, wearing that smile the same way you wore the stupid bronze turtle necklace around your neck. pretty.

after she was done checking you out a frog got fixed in her throat. she's been caught. wait! it’s not the end of the world yet. she could just brush it off as a simple visit! perfect plan.

“why did you tell me you were here?” you sit down on the opposite side of the table as her. “stella told me 'a certain blue-haired girl' had been 'keeping her eyes on me.'”

ohhhh, so that’s why she smirked.

snitch.

“just wanted a drink.” powder shrugs and keeps sipping down her drink. 

“you could’ve said hi, ya know? now i feel bad for you sitting here all alone.” you frown.

“you say that like i’m going type of loner!” powder scoffs. you raise an eyebrow as if you’re saying ‘are you not?’.

she furrows her brows, “i am not!” she defended herself.

“i never said—“

“you were going to!” 

you leaned back and sighed. that struck something in jinx. she’s got you annoyed.

shit.

now you were probably thinking of breaking it off with her and never seeing her face again. she should’ve known. she shouldn’t have gotten attached. “I’m sorry—“

“come on blue,” you interrupt her, getting out of your seat. “my shift just ended, and i’m starving!” you take her cold hand in your warm one, pulling her out of the bar.

WEEK THREE

blue was mysterious— was.

this girl bounced off walls. no filter. talks back to old mean people who gave you a hard time. she had to be constantly doing something or doing nothing. no in-between. you adapted to it.

she's unlike anyone you’ve ever met. 

the shop you gave her? now her hideout. she completely renovated it in her own style. remember that broken illuminating sign? now the sign had no words it was a…

monkey?

you think it was. you saw it often in her work. you’re guessing it was her signature. 

you liked moments like this. standing behind her, brushing her short hair mindlessly. her hair grew really fast, it was almost to her shoulders now.

jinx tinkered on the glitter bomb that exploded in your face three weeks ago. her tongue stuck out the corner of her mouth in concentration.

it was odd. her hair. not that it was bad, she somehow pulled it off amazingly, but you can’t help but think that this was a recent cut. “why did you cut your hair this way?” you asked.

she pauses her work and looks up, leaning back in her chair to get a better look at you. “what, don’t like it?” your heart jumped at the sight of her.

she was so cute. wide pink eyes, blue eyeshadow, dark lipstick, and glitter stains on her face. 

“no, just curious,” you spoke softly. powder’s eyes trail away from you as she thinks about whether she should answer your question.

in the meantime, you noticed some dark grease on the corner of her mouth. it was nagging at you, she was dangerously close to eating it if she were to lick her lips.

taking your thumb you lick it and then wipe it off of her. the action caused her to scrunch up her face a bit but she didn’t pull away. “it was a weakness.” she answered your question, “my hair was wayyy too long, practically dragged it on the ground.” she shrugged still looking up at you. 

“plus, i needed some change.” jinx made her hand into a gun and slowly raised it up to you, “pow.” she pretended to shoot you. 

“shooting me now?” your voice amused, raising a brow at her.

“you should’ve dodged it,” she shrugs, looking back down to her work. she set it down on the workbench and spun her chair around, “now you’re dead,” she got up from her seat to get another tool. "sucker."

“i thought you liked me!” you grumble, her back was now turned to you. 

“just a little.” she plays into it and turns around. 

her eyes widened to see you point a sucker to her head, with a smirk on your face, “now, you’re dead.”

“oh, so that’s how you wanna play, princess?” she puts her hand on her hip.

“you started it, cutie.” you unwrap the sucker, placing it in your mouth.

she narrows her eyes at you with a frown. a cute frown. you could tell she wasn’t really angry. she takes the sucker out of your mouth and places it in hers. 

your breath hitched. this should not be affecting you the way it is. the heat that coursed through your body went straight up to your face. jinx leaning closer didn’t help, you could envision her tongue swirling around the candy.

oh fuck.

WEEK FOUR

the warm softly grainy sand slipped between jinx’s toes as she stood barefoot on the beach. the beach was bustling. children darting around, teenagers around playing volleyball, and locals dancing to the music that filled the air.

she sits down on the blanket you placed down. “you’ve gotten tanner, blue.” you say as you just finished applying sunscreen on yourself.

she didn’t even know what sunscreen was until she crashlanded her. “you used to be a ghost, now look at you.” she wasn’t tan, she was still pretty fair, but she wasn’t as white as a ghost the first time she got here.

you sat on your legs in front of her with your hand lathered up with sunscreen. you slowly approached her giving her the time to pull away. she didn’t. you applied the sunscreen on her tattooed arms.

jinx didn't need you to do this. she could’ve done it herself, but your touch was nice…

also because of the view it was giving her. “now, where have you been hiding these bazongas!?”

"I've had these the whole time" you deadpan at her, get up and crawl away to the other side of the blanket.

"never out in the open like this!" she bursts out laughing at your reaction. “wait, wait! come back, pretty lady!” she grabs onto your wrist, pulling you closer. 

she was terrifyingly strong for someone so thin. “you’re no better than a man!” you yelp but don’t pull away (not that you could). 

“can a girl appreciate some beauty?” she huffs, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling your back to her chest. “not my fault they’re right in front of me.” she pokes at them. jinx bit her lip to contain her laughter.

the clear blue water shimmered in the sun like it was a jewel. jinx clung onto your back, arms around your neck, and legs wrapped around your waist. fun fact! jinx can’t swim. “you’re such a baby.” you giggle, she puts her cheek on yours.

the both of you spent the time in the ocean teaching her how to swim or trying to kill each other by splash wars (you almost went blind because of her).

it was sunset. the both of you laid down on the blanket under you, looking up into the now pink sky. powder held onto your hand and you gladly held it with the same intensity.

“i like this, toots.” she turns her head to you but you don’t seem to notice. your eyes were fixated on the sky, you hand slightly loosened your grip.

your face drops into an annoyed expression, “i like this too.” foolishly you let out a tired sigh.

jinx's mind swirls.

she lying to you! she doesn’t mean it, do you see the way she replied? you’re such an idiot for trusting her. she’s probably only hanging out with you out of pity.

jinx shook her head, “you sure? you don’t sound like you did.” her voice offended.

you finally looked back at her. “sorry, baby blue. i’m just tired—“

she scoffs. “tired? tired of me? i thought we were having fun!” she sat up.

taken aback by her reaction you quickly backtracked what you said. you didn’t want to make this any worse. you got up to level with her, “no, no. of course not tired of you. i love hanging out with you, baby blue.” with that you seemed to get through to her, her face relaxed.

she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you.

jinx’s jaw clenches. why would you be tired of her? that doesn’t make sense! she’s made sure you had fun this whole time. yeah, at the beginning of your friendship, she chickened out a bit but you forgave her. yeah, she would pull stupid pranks but you love them. so why would you be so rude?

she looked into your warm eyes. “you’re lying to me!” she rips her hand away from yours. why are you lying to her? jinx’s eyebrows furrowed, jaw tensed and her forehead held creases.

“i’m sorry, blue. i just got stressed—“

“if you were stressed why would you come here in the first place? if you’re not having fun just say so, you didn’t have to fake it and lead me on the whole day.” she stood up and you did the same.

“what?” like an idiot, you laugh at the situation happening right now. “i never said all of that. honey, if you let me finish my sentence you would understand.”

now she’s laughing at you, she’s not even trying to hide it!

“shut up!” jinx shouts and you quickly pipe down. her breath came out in heavy pants. hands trembling over her ears. her mind was in overdrive. she was thinking about everything. about how you hate her. about how this was doomed from the start.

she should’ve known, no way someone would actually want a genuine connection with her. it’s not like you could ever understand her.

she points her finger out accusingly, “you think this is a laughing matter? you think i’m a joke!” 

your voice got caught up in your throat. this was insane. she was insane. she was just making up things on the spot to play the victim. you suck in a breath and shake your head. “what’s wrong with you?”

those words left like a gunshot to her heart. 

told ya.

jinx. 

not that you had to work hard to get to this point. wasn’t like she liked you to begin with.

hot, frustrated tears welled up in her eyes, her nails dug into the palm of her hand, letting blood drop freely onto the blanket under the two of you. an uncomfortable silence hung in the air, thick and stifling.

her glare at you intensified, a flicker in her pink eyes of… betrayal? a step back, followed by another, soon, she left you alone on the beach.

this was a mistake.

TAGLIST: @millie2point0 @powderbomb-jinxed @velvetinkbym

[ennn]

On Writing Rio Vidal

So @trickofthelights did a great post on things to take note of when writing Agatha Harkness in fic and I figured I could do one for my girl if some folk are interested.

Now I do see that getting a handle on Rio can be tricky because she only has so much screentime and every time she pops up we see a different side to her character. That said, here's some fundamentals I see for portraying Rio:

Disclaimer: I'm not a cop. Fic writing is for fun. This is entirely about canon-consistency, which can also apply to AUs. If you want to write an original romance novel inspired more by the actors than their AAA characters, hey you do you.

Rio is powerful and knows it

Canonical Rio literally embodies power. She's Death and even gods die. She is one of the most powerful entities in the universe and she knows it. It's essentially who she is. Power is part of her being.

In non-magic AUs where Rio is human, the show literally serves up Special Agent Rio Vidal as a handy reference point to work with. She's an FBI agent with the power of a higher authority, amazing at her job, and she owns it.

I find it quite jarring when AU fics have Rio set up as someone needing saving, or someone seriously lacking in confidence. Even if you're doing a high school or coffeeshop AU, Rio Vidal needs to know she's hot shit in some domain. She doesn't need to have her life together but you gotta have that sense of power and self-assurance somewhere in her life.

Because when it comes to writing canon-consistent Agatha/Rio, this is fundamental to Agatha's attraction to Rio because Agatha is attracted to power.

Like yes, I know it's Aubrey Plaza but it is essentially Rio's power that compels Agatha to give her a second look. Canonically, it's Rio's inability to die that allows them to have a relationship. Not beauty, not a winning personality. They're able to match each other’s energy, to clash and survive each other.

Rio is lawful first, chaotic second

An all-powerful character who can do anything is pretty boring, which is why when it comes to Rio "with great power comes great responsibility" but in her case it's literal and on a cosmic level. Canonically Rio's power is limited by certain rules she has to follow.

The whole tragedy at the crux of Rio as a character is that her identity is her purpose is her function is her duty is her job. As unpredictable as she seems, Rio literally describes herself as "the natural order of all things".

It's interesting that in the Zoom call interview Plaza mentions Puck when describing how Rio acts in the show because I find the fey a helpful reference when framing Rio as a character. Yes, Rio can cause lots of chaos but she has very specific rules she's obligated to follow. Everything beyond that however is fair game.

In non-magic AUs, this doesn't have to mean Rio has a literal job or profession that she values highly (although it can). It could be a personal mission, a set of principles, a duty to certain people or an organisation. Regardless there should be a method to Rio's madness.

And when it comes to writing canon-consistent Agatha/Rio, this is a delightful contrast because Agatha's such a rule-breaker ("So you broke the rules, big deal!") and a cheater ("You can't cheat Agatha / Says who!").

There are sharp edges to Rio's character

I sometimes joke that in AU fics the best way to help ensure canon-consistency is to give Rio a knife. It's funny because it's kinda true?

There is a darkness to Rio as a character that if ignored, I think does a disservice to her. Canonically, she's the balance of life and death, the cycle of decay and rebirth, the ugly and beautiful, violent and soft.

I think very romantic or domestic AUs do come with the risk of making Rio too soft, too patient, too kind. Which is not to say she can't be those things—you could argue that anyone who chooses to put up with Agatha Harkness certainly has those qualities in no small amount—but it's the contrast that I think makes Rio interesting as a character.

Consider Rio's capacity for love contrasted with her viciousness, her patience with her pettiness, her restraint with her rage.

There's probably more where this came from, but these ones seem to the main ones that stick out. And look, I'm a fan and I get that it's tempting to pull from the other roles Plaza has played, and we only see so much of Rio (I mean, consider how much of Agatha we got to see from Wandavision before AAA) and AUs are meant to be a playground—but there does come a point where a character just doesn't seem like Rio Vidal.

[jweekgoji]

can you make a 3 part of d-16 of pleasuring him with a spike instead of fingering

Yandere!D-16/Reader

tw: NSF///W (minors don't read), jealousy, possessive behavior, unhealthy attachment, insecurity (D-16's side), yandere themes. word count: additional tags: gender neutral!reader, reader has a spike, D-16 has spike and valve, cybertronian!reader, idol!reader, power bottom!D-16, top!reader a/n: there's so many different continuations of the original posts so that even I can't keep track of it, haha. the previous chapter for this would be >this.

You're so fond of your little devoted fan, it's hard not to find D-16 at least a little cute.

If any of your coworkers heard your thoughts, oh, you would hear their taunts for cycles.

“That's so weird, what do you even see in him?”

“He's half your size, how do you do...well, you know. 'That stuff'.”

“You're definitely a pervert.”

Of course, none of your friends took your interest seriously. It's just a one-night stand; as they say, you will grow tired of that needy little thing and move on. At least, you should.

You're too good for him, too beautiful for everyone's standards, there's plenty of other mechs and femmes showing their desire for you, the ones that can provide you with everything you need.

Chromia, despite your pretend rivalry during the races, seems like paying too much interest in you, and Hot Rod can't stop asking you out on dates, each time you beat him. So many options...and yet, out of all the Iaconians, a miner? Seriously?

Maybe you actually need a little break from everything. If anyone finds out what you two do behind everyone's back, a cogless bot slacking off instead of working tirelessly in search of energon...that information will definitely screw off his chances at getting a better, higher position in the future. With how little respect most Iaconians have for the cogless part of cybertronians, you can only fear of what else the higher-ups can do to him. Not to mention...what will the others tell about you?

And still... Why, why, why were you like this?

D-16 couldn't comprehend in his head why all of a sudden you started to avoid him.

Are you embarrassed of him? He totally understands that; he learned his place in this society for a long time ago; it's not like he will blame you for it.

Maybe he's been too much for you lately? Yes...yes, definitely, isn't it? He's been so demanding the last time, craving your touch and your praise; everything will be good enough for him if only it comes from you.

Every new reason he comes up with for you as an excuse for you to ignore him, leaves a suffocating feeling of fear inside his processor.

'You've lost interest in him, that's all' is constantly ringing in his head. But that can't be true, can it?

You're perfect; you've said you love him and dedicated some of your time to him specifically, even though you could have run away as soon as you had some pleasure.

He must be the reason.

The look of disappointment was etched on D-16's face. Every single time he cheered for you from the crowd, waving his servo in hopeless need for you to spare him at least a single glance.

You pose next to Chromia, your servo on her waist, as one of the photographers approaches you to take a photo together. First and second prize winners, you can't ignore so many questions from the local sports reporters who are trying to get some answers about your relationship with the blue bot.

Playfully, you deny every rumor, but the slight smirk on Chromia's face only encourages the audience more.

“Yes, we're just coworkers,” she gives you a brief glance, winking at you before looking back at the camera again. “Right, partner?”

The sight alone makes D-16 clench his teeth. The large, flat screen projecting the post-race broadcast seems to mock him.

Here on the screen, you seem much closer to him than you have in the last few days of your stubborn silence. He wonders, when you look at the camera, do you think about him? 

Are you even aware that he is, once again, focused only on you, rewatching the broadcast over and over again, just because you appear on the screen?

Primus, he feels so pathetic. Hiding behind one of the few quiet corners, he sighs, servo resting over his optics.

How long has this been going on now? A week? Two? He's so tired of waiting.

D-16 is patient; he really tries to give you as much personal space as possible and as much time as he can give you, but it's so damn hard.

Before, it was easier to control. Before, at least, he didn't have hopeless dreams that you would ever know he existed. But no, now you know him. You know how much he's in love with you—that he's dedicated an entire chunk of his poems about you.

It's not hard for Orion to notice how much his best friend has changed recently. From being strong and determined, D-16 completely avoids any contact with him. Any mention of you only fuels the silver bot more, and it's not uncommon for him to push everyone around him away.

But unfortunately or luckily, Orion is too determined to get off his back so easily. The famous troublemaker won't so easily leave D alone. And as his only best friend, Orion offers him a solution.

“Just sneak into their room when they won't see you and ask them whatever is bothering you. They can't escape you when you corner them!”

Such a ridiculous idea. It annoys him that he's even considering doing it.

Where Orion even gets such ideas from...?

Standing in your room, all alone and surrounded in everything that reminds him of every single thing he adores in you. That alone makes his spark beat faster.

Can he touch that? Some framed photos were carefully placed all over the room. Some with your friends, some with your colleagues; he can recognize the names if he tries hard enough, but it isn't necessary for him when it's only your face he's focused on. You have so many statues after cycles of your career...

It's not like he hasn't been there before. If anything, he's been here plenty of times, but it was never just him in there. Something in this feels more intimate, for some reason, yet it is so, so wrong.

The thoughts about guilt still linger in the back of his mind. He shouldn't be here. That stupid idea Orion suggested him...! Oh great, now he feels wrong.

Can you blame him for it? You've been denying him for so long. It is only natural for him to get a little ahead of himself. He just needs a little taste, just to calm this nagging feeling down his waist. His servo hesitantly reaches for your berth, gently gripping the soft material of the sheets. He just wants to bury his face in it, wrap it around himself, maybe to imagine your gentle hold of him—

Until he hears noise from the outside and all his thoughts stop as he tries to quickly step back from it.

The door opens, revealing only your figure standing in the way. It takes a mere seconds for you to notice an intruder inside your quarters, and the look of surprise showed on your face as you finally realized who it is.

For a moment, none of you let out a single word. His optics wide, mouth slightly open, as if he tries to think of something, anything, but nothing will possibly explain it.

‘This is your chance,’ he quickly thinks, before he musters his courage to finally start to speak.

“...Why? Why were you avoiding me all this time?” D-16's voice quivers; his servo tightens on his own chassis.

The heavy gasps of his breathing are the only sound in the room. You still have no idea how to answer that.

You should have seen that coming. Leaving him alone without any explanation broke his mind, and now frustrated, almost on the edge of tears, you have no other choice but to face the consequences of your own negligence.

Gently closing the door of your room, you decide to continue.

“I was afraid that if someone catch us...they will do something to you.”

D-16's optics widened at your explanation. He expected anything but that. He stops, just staring as if a deer caught in headlights. Not only that, but he was so happy to finally hear that. That at least it's nothing he had thought about before. You care for him, and realizing that makes all his worries disappear for a moment.

But seriously...that's it?

Slowly, a confused look morphs into annoyance; he steps closer to you, grabbing on your wrists.

“You really think...that I care about what others will do to me?” his digits tightening on your frame, almost possessively. “Do you have any idea what I've been thinking all this time? When you kept ignoring me?”

D-16 huffs in frustration, shaking his helm in disbelief. He doesn't understand if he should be angry at you or himself at this moment. He's been overthinking every little thing he had done for the past months that could have possibly made you angry with him. Furthermore, he even broke into your own damn quarters to confront you about it, only to find out that you are just like him.

Thinking too much about small things when the most important person is right next to you.

Primus, you're making him so mad right now, but he lets himself forget about everything, just now.

You feel his servos gripping your face, pulling you towards him, only to meet into the harsh kiss. He cuts off whatever feeble attempt you tried to mutter in apology; no, for now, it all can wait.

He's been waiting for this moment as if for ages. Having you so close to him, his frame pressed against your own, the familiar, burning tingling makes his spike twitch in need.

He wants you; he wants you so much right now, that he barely recognizes himself.

Any other day he'd be too embarrassed to look up at you, too shy to let out a moan in fear that someone might hear.

When he presses you against berth, straddling your hips, he looks nothing like the shy bot you met many, many times before. It's only by one look in his optics, full of need and hunger, that you realize how badly you screwed up.

His inexperience is still so apparent. In a desperate attempt to get you to open your interface panel, he's practically bucking his hips against you, like an animal in heat.

You are so tempted to just watch him trying. Maybe after a good half an hour he'd eventually reach what he desires.

Not wanting to act cruel for now, you finally open your interface panel without a protest. Your own spike pressing between his silver thighs, small droplets of transfluid smearing over the smooth metal.

The sight alone makes D-16 shiver, almost from embarrassment at how fast his own panel opens after watching you.

Spike standing tall, already rock hard, and the wet mess from his valve makes him grind his thighs from impatience. You can only imagine what he'd try to do in your room if you were an hour later to find him.

You feel his servos holding a little tighter on your shoulders, his breathing a little shallow, as he guides himself on your spike. A little shudder runs down his spine at the sensation of you feeling him up, and he barely pays attention to others, making it possible to hear him.

He's been so patient and kind to you. It takes him a little less than a minute to get even more hungry, desperate for more.

“D—” you gasp, your own servo reaching for his waist to slow him down a little, only for him to grind himself on you harder.

He'd be lying if he said that it didn't hurt him a little. He tried to stretch himself every single day since the moment you started ignoring him, hoping not to forget that delicious feeling of you inside him.

Tears prickling in his optics as he stared down at you—oh, how much he dreamed for this moment to finally come true.

Another, loud, shameless moan escapes his lips as your spike hits deeper into him, his valve clenching around your length, begging for more. He feels so full right now.

If only this feeling never ended.

“Agh...frag, yes—” he cries out, arching his back to meet your thrusts.

He's so content with just having you underneath him, while his mind is clouded with nothing but lust and need for you. Optics rolling into the back of his helm, practically seeing stars.

You pant softly, only guiding his movements from time to time, not letting the poor little thing to accidentally hurt himself during such an intimate moment of connection between the two of you. You're barely even doing anything at this point, letting him set control over his own pace.

D-16 salivates at the thought. His inner walls clenching around your spike every so often, making him more aware of his building-up overload. He wants to last so, so much longer.

His spike throbs as your servo wraps around it, gently moving up and down over the sensitive length. You hear him whine, pushing his hips harder for more, more of the sweet friction.

He'd beg you to stop, to not push him over the edge so soon, and he almost wants to swat away your servo from him until he grits his teeth, stifling a groan. Hips moving more erratically, and with a heavy breath, he stutters your name as he finally reaches his release.

With a soft, satisfied hum, you pull your cogless miner closer, letting him rest against you. For a quick moment, you glance down, noticing your spike still buried deep inside him, your chassis painted in his transfluid.

D-16 clinges onto you, servos wrapped around you, as if seeking comfort. He still tries to catch his breath, panting next to your audio receptors, optics closed shut.

Well, Orion's dumb idea worked out...somehow.

[i-am-an-arson-enthusiast]

waaahhh let’s go

age: age i started this blog at +1

height: 5’3…..

grade: grade i started this blog at +2

confidence: jumps around a fuck ton but in this moment solid 8/10

happiness: uuuuuhhhhhh also jumps around but 7.5/10 i’m content but not actively happy

gender: gender fluid ‼️‼️

sexuality: queer/any label that’s funny or works in the moment

romantic: aromantic

fav food: oooo uhhhmm. ramen or udon i think

fav show: attack on titan‼️‼️‼️ asher can agree with me here-i yap. so much. abt aot. i could talk endlessly on it

fav movie: uhhhhhhh OH either howls moving castle or princess mononoke or boy and the heron!!

fav song: why must you make me choose like this. good luck babe, espresso, hot to go. every time. (top three songs this year btw)

fav artist: chappell roan and sabrina carpenter!!!! top two rn but also cavetown, måneskin, and chase atlantic are very worth mentioning. also billie elish recently… i have a lot ok 😭

relationship status: i’m still aromantic and still haven’t loved anyone non platonically guys…. well. agfe are exceptions. they blur that line. but still it doesn’t fucking matter <— aromantic and passionate sorry chat 💯💯💯

fav color 💕💕💕: dark red like blood red like the hex code 621510 yk.

fav season: uhmmmm spring bc my bday and end of school. lk i love love love the last few days post finals where ur not doing shit and don’t have to pay attention to anyone <333 not worth finals tho i think <— stressed itself out a little too much..

followers: i’d have to check but abt 520 i think

that was lomg thanks for reading (you probably didn’t lmao)

no pressure bro @marcysbear @milo-sillyguy @macabre-moths @bassguitarinablackt-shirt @ssavinggrace @scifikode and open tags

End of year stats!

Age: won’t say but minor

Height: 5’5

Grade: won’t say

Confidence: 7/10

Happiness: 5/10

Gender: gender fluid

Sexuality: asexual

Romantic: aroflux

Fav food: probably ramen?

Fav show: b99

Fav movie: not any

Fav song: too many to pick!!!

Fav artist: wallows or dayglow

Relationship status: single

Fav colour: green

Fav season: winter

Followers: 358 (as of Dec 29 at 2 am)

[tezuka-rin]

i was talking about this with a friend, and i know the easy and probably correct answer is "just do it", but there really is like, something deeply harrowing about being a transfem closeted to any degree. especially if you're Out Online. there's You, the You you meet your friends with, the You that shapes your interactions - but you can never be fully at ease with telling people that. you just can't. you're not on HRT, dressing fem isn't an option. there's always the chance anyone you let in will see you as a Faggot, a Pervert, someone pretending to be something they're not - and you don't have anything to show for it. you glance at trans people who are out, but there really is so much that you wouldn't have to leave unsaid if you could. you live your life to whatever degree you can with something looming over you that even if you make the objectively correct and right and good choice you have no idea how many people will stop talking to you or if you'll suddenly turn from someone helpful and reliable to some dangerous predator in their eyes. any relationship runs the risk of them not liking you if you move forward; so many angles are blocked off by virtue of not being able to move forward; you're constantly bombarded with reminders of just how badly you'd be treated if you let these people in on the most important fact in your life. btw this isn't like a "not transitioning is valid" post. i have to rely on a family who've made their opinions on the subject quite clear, i have hobbies which are good-old-boys clubs, etc.

[steveseddie]

when the clock strikes twelve

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles “midnight” & @steddiebingo 12 days of christmas mini event “carol” | rated: t | wc: 1000 | tags: different first meeting, post season 2, new year’s kiss

read on ao3

It’s five minutes to midnight when Steve steps into the bathroom at Tina’s house.

If he’d known that coming to her New Year’s Eve party would mean welcoming the new year alone in the same bathroom where his girlfriend called their relationship bullshit, Steve would’ve stayed home.

“If it isn’t the King of Hawkins,” a voice says, startling Steve and making him turn around, his heart hammering in his chest. But it’s not a demodog or fucking Billy Hargrove, just Eddie Munson sitting on the sink with his legs swinging back and forth.

“Munson.”

“Welcome to my office, Your Highness,” Eddie says with a dorky salute.

Steve glances around them. “Your office?”

“This is where I do business, you see,” he says, flipping the lid of his metal lunchbox. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

Steve hangs a hand from his neck. “No, uh, I’m hiding from someone.”

Eddie perks up with interest. “Who?”

“Carol Perkins.”

“Your buddy Tommy’s girl?”

Steve’s nose wrinkles. “He’s not my buddy anymore and she’s not his girl either. And for some reason Carol thinks the best way to get back at him for being a dick is to kiss me at midnight.”

“And you don’t want that?” Steve shakes his head. “Thought you and Wheeler were done– or are you not over her yet? Don’t worry, big boy. There’s still time for that New Year’s resolution.”

“Shut up,” Steve says, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “It’s not about Nancy, I just don’t want to kiss the first girl who throws herself at me, you know?”

“I do not, Your Majesty,” Eddie says with an amused snort. “I’ve never participated in such activities.”

Steve tilts his head in question. “Kissing someone on New Year’s?”

Eddie looks away, nervously playing with a rip on his jeans. “Or you know, ever.”

He can’t see the way Steve’s eyebrows shoot up but he probably hears the surprise in his voice when he asks, “You’ve never kissed anyone?”

Eddie purses his lips. They’re nice lips, Steve observes. It’s a shame no one has kissed them. “No, Harrington. Go ahead and laugh it up,” he says, his voice clipped.

“I’m not laughing! I’m just–” Confused that someone as hot as you hasn’t kissed anyone. Steve clears his throat, his blush getting worse with that thought even if Eddie can’t read his mind. “I mean. Why haven’t you?”

Eddie scoffs. “People aren’t exactly lining up to kiss the town’s freak,” he says. Then hesitates before he adds, “Specifically guys.”

So the rumors about Munson are true. “Oh.”

The confession makes Steve blush, despite Eddie being the one who admitted something. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s afraid he’ll open his mouth and something stupid will come out. Something like– ‘I’m here! I’m a guy!’

So he stays silent, which makes Eddie wary.

“That’s it? You’re not gonna run? Call me names? Punch me?”

Steve can see that his shoulders are tense, his knuckles white where they’re gripping the sink tightly. It’s like he’s getting ready to run in case Steve reacts badly.

But running away or punching Eddie couldn’t be further away from what Steve wants to do right now.

“No, I–”

“Ten seconds to midnight!” Someone yells downstairs.

“I– I want to do something else,” Steve admits, his voice wavering slightly. He hesitantly steps closer to Eddie, who narrows his eyes.

“What?”

“Five seconds!” The same voice yells and the crowd joins the countdown.

“Four!”

Steve stands directly between Eddie’s legs.

“Three!”

He puts his hands on Eddie’s waist.

“Two!”

Steve raises his eyebrows in a silent question– is this okay?

“One!”

Eddie gives a tiny nod.

And then Steve swoops in, pressing his lips against Eddie’s as the crowd downstairs cheers and Eddie’s watch starts beeping.

Somewhere in the distance, fireworks go off but Steve could swear he can feel them inside him when Eddie kisses back, looping his arms around his neck.

Steve tilts his head, determined to give Eddie a good first kiss. He licks softly at his bottom lip, making him gasp. Then he kisses him a little harder, softly touching Eddie’s tongue with his, feeling the way he shudders.

He knows this is probably longer than the usual New Year’s kiss but Steve doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to stop. And apparently neither does Eddie, who pulls Steve closer and drags his teeth across his bottom lip.

It’s only when they need to breathe that they break apart.

Eddie’s eyes stay closed longer and only flutter open when Steve cups his neck and strokes an idle thumb against his jaw.

He decides that dazed and kiss-drunk are a good look on him.

“Happy New Year,” he says with a lopsided grin.

Eddie snorts amusedly. “Yeah, Happy New Year.”

The noise downstairs starts to die down. People are probably going back to drinking and dancing, maybe even leaving. He could easily slip out without running into Carol, but he doesn’t want to, not unless–

“Hey, uh, do you wanna get out of here?” Steve blurts out.

Eddie blinks. “Me?”

He can’t help but roll his eyes. “No, the other guy I just made out with in the bathroom.”

“And here I thought I was special,” Eddie says with pouty lips– fuck, Steve wants to kiss them again.

So he does. Just a quick press of lips.

When he pulls back, he places another small kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth.

“Say yes,” he says before doing the same on the other side. “And I’ll show you special.”

Steve hears the way Eddie’s breath hitches and feels a smirk teasing at his lips.

Only for it to be wiped away by Eddie grabbing him by his neck and pulling him in for more than a press of lips.

Damn, he’s a fast learner.

“Yes,” Eddie says once he pulls back, giving him a shit-eating grin.

Steve sends a silent ‘thank you’ to Carol Perkins before reaching for Eddie’s hand to drag him out of there.

[moonfirecookies]

This is why i love the Beasts. Don’t get me wrong, they really did some really messed up stuff (While we do not know what Eternal Sugar Cookie or Silent Salt Cookie did just yet, but we can speculate), and destroyed so many lives after their corruption. But it’s what happened before the corruption that makes them so special in my eyes.

These cookies were baked with the biggest responsibility of their lives. The witches just gave it to them and expected them to figure it out.

As a result, they slowly were consumed by their responsibilities and the expectations of everyone around them. They only had themselves to go to. It’s just sad they had to turn out the way they did for the Witches to actually do something about it. We don’t know what the relationship between the Witches and Beasts were like before their fall, and it might forever be a mystery, but if they did try to go to the Witches for help, and they never came? That makes this a whole lot worse in my mind.

Imagine you are born and given the biggest responsibility you can’t even fathom, and as you slowly start to break from the stress and try to call your creators for help, they do nothing. Only to finally do something after you snap. Then seem to just replace you with five new cookies with half of your power.

Shadow Milk, who had all the knowledge in Earthbread, possibly just forced upon him and left with the overwhelming truth (speculation)

Mystic Flour, who had to see the worst of cookies that only wanted more and more (to the point she was overwhelmed by their wishes) , until she got to the point where all cookies are selfish and greedy, and must embrace her belief of Apathy to get rid of their suffering

Burning Spice, who has to see history constantly repeat itself… over, and over, and over again until he couldn’t take it anymore, of course there’s the more in depth stuff above me but still.

And while we know nothing about Eternal Sugar and Silent Salt, I can always speculate.

Eternal Sugar could have tried all she can to make all cookies happy, but in the end couldn’t, not even her own friends, so she becomes tired and sad, her actions being seen as a form of Sloth

Silent Salt is more complicated considering his original virtue is Solidarity. Maybe he couldn’t unify cookies, or desperately tried to at the very end, until he went silent.

TLDR: like the post and reblog above, they were doomed to fail. With their individual issues, to their immortality, to the responsibilities given to them, to even the lack of support from anyone but themselves.

A Thought About Burning Spice Cookie

I was kind of just going about my business today when I had a sort of... revelation, I guess? About Burning Spice. Looking back, I'm not really sure why it took me so long to think of this, but I like to live by the ideal "the best time was then, the second best time is now", so here we go.

Burning Spice was once the Herald of Change (or History, in the original Korean text). He was said to have fought for and defended fledgling civilizations in the distant past, protecting people and helping them in dark times. His throne decor even says he used to let people into his palace and allow them to engage in honest discussion with him about their problems, after which he'd get up and go out and do something about those problems. He sounded like a pretty swell guy... until he got bored with everything and went insane, of course. But here's the thing.

I think I understand why he ended up this way.

To put it as vaguely as possible, I do stuff in real life that may or may not have something to do with history as a subject. And I will gladly tell you all point-blank: history is fucking horrible. History is bleak. History is dark and cruel. The more you dive into it, the more it appears to you as a joke without a punchline. History is a drama, a tragedy, and a big fucking farce all at the same time.

Of course Burning Spice got tired of it. I get tired of it sometimes. Because sometimes, all history ever seems to be is a bunch of delinquents writing "I'm a bad kid" on the chalkboard repeatedly forever and ever. Just a bunch of bad people hurting each other for reasons that'll only come across as stupid long after they've all died at each other's hands. I'm sure Burning Spice started to think "what's even the point of building anything if someone is just going to come tear it down?" And it's hard to not think that when that's what ALWAYS happens. That's what history is a lot of the time. Brutal competition. A war of all against all.

The cure to the cynicism and melancholy history can and will inflict on you, at least in my opinion, is... to stop dwelling on it, honestly. At the end of the day, you have to remember that the past is gone. What's done is done. Things happen and sometimes, you can't do anything about it. You can't go back and save Lincoln from being assassinated. You can't go back and stop the Holocaust. You can't go back and save the world from all those wars and famines and disease epidemics. History both changes constantly and is unchanging at the same time. You have to make peace with what you cannot change - the past - and move forward, because time won't wait for you. We have to remember these things, these dark times; we all have a duty to do so, for the sake of those that came before us and those that will come after. But we also have to remember to live for the sake of those around us here and now. It is the present that shapes the world the most. It is in the present that we find true happiness. Not in the yellowed pages of old textbooks about the past and not in the pie-in-the-sky fever dreams we have about the future.

I think that's what fucked Burning Spice over. He forgot to live in the present. He was so focused on bringing about change, so absorbed in giving everything he had to everyone else, so invested in preserving the past and paving the way for the future, that he started losing sight of what was already there in front of him. His friends. His people. Too much time spent on the bigger picture and not enough spent on the tiny details that don't seem important at first glance, but when you look closer, you realize are what made the whole, entire picture important in the first place. He, like many do, like I do, began to see how cyclical and futile history can really be. He just saw people looking for reasons to hurt one another and destroy anything good they'd built together. Civilizations that were once grand and prosperous falling to anarchy. Clans with close ties turning against one another. Friend groups fracturing. All this hard work, undone, over and over again. And for what? What did they do any of this for? What did HE do any of this for?

I think his descent into villainy was slow, but sure. A little piece of his soul crumbling to dust with every person he felt like he failed because whatever great change he enacted was undone and everyone else suffered for it. And no one was really there to help steer him back onto the right path. Not his friends, not his family, not his people at large. Whether this was because they didn't know he was hurting like this (he seems like the type to keep things close to the chest anyway), they didn't know how to help or comfort him, or they didn't care, ultimately does not matter; regardless, it boils down to Burning Spice never being reminded to find solace in those around him right now, instead of constantly fretting over those before or after.

Maybe if he did remember, if he paid more attention to what IS and not what WAS or what WILL BE, he could've been saved. If he'd let Shadow Milk tell him more about his books and the little puppets he liked to craft. If he listened to Eternal Sugar play her harp more. If he sat and played a few more rounds of Go with Mystic Flour. If he had a friendly sparring match or two extra with Silent Salt. If he ate and drank and danced with his fellow spices like he probably used to like doing. If he stopped thinking he always had to be this larger-than-life figure who lorded over and protected society, and just let himself breathe and be a normal, happy person. It wouldn't make the ultimate folly of history sting any less, but he could have at least made peace with it and continued onward in spite of it.

But he didn't. He succumbed to history's poison, like so many have and so many will. And in an ironic twist of fate, which you will also often find throughout history, the tide of change swallowed him whole and drowned him. He let the failures of yesterday color his perception of today, and tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. More and more people came across to him as bad actors until the whole world was just a devil's stage play, and it was being performed at his expense. Hard work and self-sacrifice lost its flavor. He tried to keep going, tried to keep pushing himself. Maybe he knew what was happening to him on some level and fought desperately to save himself. Put duct tape over the cracks in a dam, because that's probably all it amounted to, because the wisdom he needed didn't exist within him at that time and he didn't/couldn't find it anywhere else. Pushed forward even when he couldn't see where he was going anymore. Until every muscle in his body hurt. Until he'd lived long enough to see everything he ever lived and worked for be taken apart for scrap, for a vendetta, for shits and giggles.

Until he started looking at those bandits and warlords and terrorists he used to help put away and thinking... "hey. Maybe they're seeing something I'm not. If nothing else at all, they sure look like they're having fun. Way more than I am right now." Until he gave in to despair and grew bitter, and thought "well, if nothing I do really matters, if destroying it all is what makes people happy, then maybe I should give it a shot."

And then he became a bandit, a warlord, a terrorist. He turned into all those people he hated and continues to hate today. He cut out the middle-man and just ended lives before they could begin. Razed civilizations to the ground because that was what was going to happen anyway, whether it be by his hand or someone else's. What does it even matter? What does anything matter? This is all history is. Pain and suffering. He's only doing what's natural. He's solving problems before they can even occur, really. He's doing everyone a REAL favor. Destruction truly is the only way.

The best way to make the world a better place is to make the lives of those around you better first. Even just helping the one person makes a difference in its own way. Think less about making history by winning a war or toppling a regime and more about making history in an old person's life by helping them up when they fall down. Or making history in a dog's life by volunteering at an animal shelter. Or making history in your friends' lives by having a fun day with them that they'll remember and cherish even on their deathbeds. Change doesn't have to be grand. It doesn't need to be an all-consuming tide that rises above the tallest buildings. It can just be gentle waves and seafoam, washing over the sand and kissing one's feet. That's enough, more often than not. More than one might realize.

Maybe if somebody made sure Burning Spice kept this in mind, he wouldn't have turned into a Beast in the end.

TL;DR: History is shit. Him losing it makes perfect sense. I probably would have, too. Somebody should've been there to keep him grounded. Everyone failed him and he failed himself. Remember to live in the present. YO SOCRATES, IT'S A FUCKING COOKIE