#i get the feeling that i’d only end up seeing more of them if i tried to find out more. lord.

[svnriseblvdd]

neighbour! clark kent x new girl! reader

SYNOPSIS: with your friend iris in town, the two of you head to a house party, where your short dress and a game of pool send clark's thoughts running wild again.

WARNINGS: reference to perv!clark/reference to general perversion, clark thinks extensively about reader's panties, most of it's innuendo and allusions i won't lie, chloe makes a slight reference to sex on/over a table, random football player starts leering and staring at reader's ass, indirect description of a boner, clark gets a peek of reader's panties, doggy but no sex? (you'll see - they're in the position, but clothes and underwear are still on), clark is still dying for some action.

i might come back and rewrite this part at some point in the future, because i had a couple more ideas i wanted to put in but couldn't figure out at the time, and the ending falls a little flat - i knew i wanted something extra, but i think it just lacks what i wanted.

part one! part two! part three! part four!

Your friend Iris is across the room while music flows through the space, loud and deep, settling into your bones. She’s flirting with a guy from the football team. You’ve already assured her she will not be borrowing your bedroom if she decides to hook up with the guy, so she might as well go home with him or just find a room upstairs to use. This house belongs to one of the football players, they’re always throwing big parties. 

Since Iris headed off ten minutes ago, you’ve been hovering a little awkwardly near the couches, except now there’s two couples making out on one of them, and then the other is filled with a group of friends you’re pretty sure are stoned out of their minds. 

So now you’re just looking for anyone to talk to or at least linger by without looking weird and lonely. Someone you know. 

Your face lights up in a smile when you notice exactly the people you need. Chloe and Lana are across the room, Chloe clearly judging people and Lana nodding her head either to the music or to Chloe’s comments. Lana smiles when she sees you, waving you over to them. 

You cross the room, greeting them both with a grin and an excited, “Hi!” 

“Hey, you look amazing!” Lana compliments. 

“Thank you! You’re so gorgeous!” 

“Is your friend having a good time?” 

“I’d say so,” Chloe says, looking toward Iris, who’s mid-makeout with the aforementioned football player. Good for her. 

Speaking of makeouts with football players, you need to find Clark. 

Clark spies you from across the room on his way back to Chloe and Lana, drink in hand. As always, he thinks he might combust. Your dress hugs your figure, clinging like a second skin, and it’s so short that if he follows the lines of your legs from your feet up, it feels like they might never end. 

And as always, his mind wanders. He thinks about how easy it would be to pick you up, wrap your legs around his waist. How your dress is short enough that it would hike up all by itself, bunching around your hips and showing off your panties. His x-ray vision means that he could just take a peek, but he refuses. It’s bad enough that he thinks about it, but to actually invade your privacy, to perv on you like that? He couldn’t. Surely not. He’ll let himself resort to his fantasies. His fantasies picture all manner of things. 

Black, like the dress - lacy, very simple and nothing out of the ordinary really, but entirely sexy. A bold red, maybe - it leaves little to the imagination, it only really covers the bare minimum and leaves the rest so plain to see. But then he pictures something lighter, a pastel pink or blue perhaps. And that’s what sends his mind into a frenzy. Delicate, soft in its colour, cotton and lace, the prettiest he’d imagined yet. Just like one he’d seen on your bed that time he came over to help put your furniture together. 

He approaches the three of you nevertheless, pushing his thoughts into the back of his mind. 

“Clark!” You greet him with your bright smile. 

“Hey!” 

“I want to play pool, do you want to join?” 

“Uh, sure?” 

“Great! I’ll get it set up, you come over when you’re ready.” 

He watches you walk away, hips swaying gently as you approach the pool table. “She’s so into you,” Chloe mutters, laughing. 

“What?” He asks, eyebrows quirked. “No, she’s not.” 

“Clark, she’s just invited you to go watch her bend over a table. Trust me, she’s into you.” 

His cheeks flush red as he shakes his head. “No. No, she’s just- she says and does things without realising.” 

“Oh, she realises,” Lana says, laughing a little. “She wants you to notice her.” 

“I do notice her!” 

“Not in the way that she wants. Not that she can see, anyway. To everyone else, it’s plainly obvious that you’re head-over-heels for the girl,” Chloe says. “Now go. She’s waiting for you.” 

He joins you over at the pool table, where you’ve set it up. It’s only now that it’s just you and him that he realises you’re tipsy. He can see it in your eyes and the lazy smile on your face, and the way you stumble just a little into him, holding his biceps for support. 

“Ladies first,” he says, watching you smile wider and turn to the table. 

You walk to the other end as Clark lifts the triangle, and you bend at the waist, lining up your shot. You split the balls, and the game begins. 

Halfway through, on your turn again, you bend at the waist once again, this time a little closer to Clark. And this time, one of the football players, Nathan, stares at your ass as you begin to bend over. Before he can see any more, Clark steps in the way, blocking Nathan’s view and shooting him a glare. 

Nathan raises his hands in surrender. “Sorry, Kent. I didn’t know y’all were like that.” And he moves on. 

Clark rolls his eyes a little. 

Right towards the end, with you surprisingly in the lead - although Clark’s willing to bet that he’s at a disadvantage, given that most of his blood is travelling in the opposite direction away from his brain and somewhere it is not currently needed - you go to take another shot. You evaluate a few angles, then decide on one. Clark is leaning against a wall, watching you move around the table with careful thought. And then you find your ideal angle. 

The best place you can take this shot from and still have a chance at potting it is by standing right in front of Clark. 

So you stand there, and bend over again. Clark hadn’t seen it before, careful to move with you so that he never had to be standing at an angle where he’d see much, if anything, when you bent over. But this shot was far too difficult to predict where you’d go, nowhere was ideal. So he’d stuck where he was and begged whatever power there was that you didn’t need to stand in front of him. But the powers are betting against him. 

You bend over, so your torso is at a parallel angle to the table, and line up your shot. And Clark doesn’t mean to look, really. But just like in the car the other day when he’d glanced at your tits, your ass is right there. How was he supposed to know that your dress was so short he’d be able to see your panties? 

The best of his fantasies are fulfilled when he glimpses your baby blue underwear, just like he imagined it. Cotton, but he can see the beginnings of lace detail. It covers you well, until it reaches your ass, where the material begins to thin, and it becomes just a flimsy thing that rests between your ass cheeks. He’d imagined the thong before, not half an hour ago. But now he was seeing it. 

You stumble a little, out of nowhere seemingly, and he’s quick to grip your hips to stabilise you. And now his crotch is pretty much against your ass. Now it just looks like he’s about to take you from behind. 

“Uh-” He lets you go. “You okay?” 

“Mm-hm. I’m about to win. I couldn’t be better.” 

“Yeah, well, there’s still time, don’t get your hopes too high.” 

Except Clark knows it would take a miracle for him to win now. His head’s too clouded with lust, his brain is so deprived of blood it should be concerning, and he’s so hard it’s painful. He thinks he might just finish in his pants any minute. And if he didn’t know better, he’d think that you’re doing this to him intentionally. But you’re too tipsy and he’s seen the way you are normally, always saying and doing things by accident or without realising the double entendre. 

Or so he thinks. 

Thing is, you didn’t really come here with a plan to try to rile him up. You know it never usually seems to work - Clark’s awkward, and far too respectful to objectify you, even if you’re practically begging him to (or so you think). You love how respectful Clark is, really, and you’re glad he was raised right, but just once you want him to throw that out the window, be as depraved as he can be, lustful and carnal. He’s so easily-flustered and touch-starved, you know that he has to have locked up all those urges and desires somewhere. You really didn’t plan anything tonight, the tipsiness seems to have done some of it for you. 

When you win the match a little later, you cheer and jump in celebration, Clark smiling at you and keeping his eyes very much on yours. You hug him joyfully, and he wraps his strong arms around you. 

It was strange how a man so physically imposing could hold so much comfort. 

~~~ 

“So, how was your night?” Iris asks over a cup of coffee as the two of you sit in the Talon. 

You smile. “Pretty good. You?” 

“Very good.” 

Later on, when Clark arrives with Chloe, Pete, and Lana, Iris wiggles her eyebrows at you, and you roll your eyes before inviting them to join you. 

The others all take their seats, leaving Clark to sit next to you. 

He looks flushed, but you choose not to comment. 

taglist;

@artyandink

@blueeweeb

@ssnapsaurus

@i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this

@milestellerismybf

@purple-1995

@writergiih

@elysianrosie

@glennussy

@rainwaterxx

[channiesbakery]

birthday cake —

prompt / request — trying to make them a birthday cake from scratch + decorating the house while they're still asleep

pairing — reader + boyfriend!dino

word count — 1001

genre — fluff + smut [oral (f receiving), p in v]

author’s note — this was so rushed 😭 but i just wanted to get something posted before the day ends for dino day!!

“go back to sleep,” you tell your boyfriend when you feel him tighten his grip around you as you’re trying to get up. “how can i when you’re trying to leave,” chan mumbles.

“I’m going to the bathroom to pee,” you say. “you better come back,” he mumbles, reluctantly letting you get up.

luckily, when you came out of the bathroom, he was fast asleep again.

you quickly– and quietly– head downstairs to the living room, trying to get all the decorations set up.

it wasn’t anything too crazy, just a few balloons, some streamers hanging on the ceiling and a happy birthday banner.

you had asked chan what he wanted to do for his birthday this year and of course, he said he just wanted to spend a day with you.

“but it’s your birthday. we need to do something fun– something that isn’t what we usually do,” you had argued with him. “spending time with my favorite girl is fun,” he argued back.

you would’ve preferred to do something a bit more extravagant to celebrate your boyfriend’s 26th birthday but it was his day so of course, you’d give him his relaxed day with you.

but you still wanted to do something to at least make the atmosphere feel like his birthday. hence the living room filled with decorations.

you felt accomplished when you’d finished decorating and didn’t hear chan waking up.

your next task is to bake a cake for him from scratch. again, you try to be as quiet as possible, wanting to surprise chan.

you’re only about halfway through mixing the batter when you feel arms wrapping around your waist, startling you.

“you promised you’d come back to bed,” he whines softly, burying his face against your neck. “and you’re supposed to be asleep,” you say.

“it’s your birthday, you should be sleeping in,” you add, turning around to face him as he keeps you cornered against the counter.

“exactly. it’s my birthday and i wanted to wake up to cuddling my girlfriend. not cuddling your giant pi cheolin otter,” he gives you a look. “hey! he’s a good cuddle buddy,” you protest.

“I’d prefer cuddling you. but you’re down here, cooking at the crack of dawn,” chan says. “I’m baking. a cake for you, by the way,” you say.

“we’ll buy one later. hell, I’ll buy 26 cakes later. just come back to bed. it’s not even 8am,” he groans as you just turn back around, grabbing your whisk to continue mixing while your boyfriend stayed clinging to you.

“go back to bed channie,” you tell him. “no,” he says stubbornly, nuzzling against you. “so clingy,” you tease, pouring the batter out into the pan.

“it’s my birthday. I’m allowed to be clingy,” he hums, watching your movements. “fine, we can cuddle while the cake bakes,” you says and he grins triumphantly.

except your cuddle session turns a little less wholesome when your clingy boyfriend gets a little too touchy.

“it’s your birthday– i should be– i should be the one doing this for you,” you gasp as he buries his face between your thighs.

“my birthday and this is exactly what i want. making my pretty girl cum til she sees stars,” he mumbles against your cunt.

your thighs squeeze around his head and he just pries them back apart, pinning them down to the mattress.

“think you can cum 26 times for me? in honor of my birthday?” he teases after your first orgasm. “are you crazy? or trying to kill me?” you ask as he kisses his way up your body until he cups her face, looking down into your eyes.

“just crazy in love with you,” he grins cheekily before kissing you. you lazily make out with him before flipping him over onto his back while you straddle his lap.

“happy birthday baby,” you whisper in his ear, lowering yourself onto his cock. you move your hips slowly, grinding against him as his hands controlled your movements.

“so perfect for me,” he mumbles against your lips. “fuck you feel so good, sweetheart,” he groans when you clench around him.

chan’s lips are all over your neck, biting and sucking on your skin, as he stills your hips and thrusts up slowly.

you let out a moan as he angled his thrusts just right, hitting that one spot deep inside you. “come on sweetheart, cum for me. gimme my birthday wish,” he purrs.

it’s not long after you cum around him before he’s filling you up. he fucks his cum into you until you’re whining from the sensitivity.

“i love you,” chan whispers, kissing you softly as he pulls out of you. he rolls you off of him and onto your side, holding you close.

“that’s three orgasms down, twenty three more to go,” he teases. “you’re insane,” you laugh softly as he nuzzled his nose against yours.

unfortunately, your sweet moment is interrupted by the smoke alarm going off downstairs.

“your cake!” you exclaim, sitting up as chan groans from the loss of your body against his. “it’s too late now, babe. it’s probably too burnt to be saved,” his arms wrap around your waist to keep you from leaving the bed as he pulls you back down.

“chan��” you start. “nope. it’s a sign to stay in bed with me. we have our goal of twenty six orgasms to reach, remember?” he says. “okay that is definitely not happening,” you say.

“i don’t need that cake anyways. i have yours already,” chan says, a smirk on his lips. before you could question him, he smacks your ass.

“you’re lucky it’s your birthday,” you give him a look and he just smiles innocently. “or what?” he asks and you just roll your eyes.

“okay, birthday or not, I’m not letting our house burn down because you distracted me,” you say, getting out of bed.

“can’t believe you’re leaving me again. on my birthday. you’re cruel, sweetheart!” your boyfriend whines dramatically from the bed.

[jaybejaybeyes]

Thanks for your response! I just want to clarify a few points.

Why should he grieve Salo’s death?

A year passed between acts 1 and 2, and even if Salo didn’t join Viktor’s commune right away, I think he was there for a couple of months. And leaving didn’t seem like an option (I’ll get back to that). If Viktor truly saw the commune members as people worthy of respect, it’s only natural to assume he would’ve formed some kind of bond with them — especially as their leader, living alongside them all that time. Or did he deliberately keep his distance, never engaging, while they unquestioningly existed around him? That’s a rhetorical question — canon doesn’t answer it, and I don’t expect you to either. But if that’s the implication, it only makes things more unsettling.

Now, about leaving not being an option — based on Salo’s unusual behaviour, I’d argue that Viktor’s healing process altered more than just people’s bodies. It also changed their personalities. That’s why, IMO, none of them ever had a choice to leave after the transformation. And that’s the point I’ve been making — both here and in my original post. Viktor never saw the commune members as individuals. But not in a “they’re my lab rats” way. More like a “they’re my fish and I gladly take care of the fish tank” way.

Nope, you are definitely wrong.

I think the key misunderstanding here is the idea that having good intentions and being a control freak consumed by fear and delusion are mutually exclusive. They’re not. I never said that Viktor consciously thought this way. His fears are simply his blind spot. Yes, he genuinely wants to help people, but he also fails to recognise his deeper motivations.

That’s why he ends up not just healing them, but altering their appearances, possibly their personalities, and making them entirely dependent on him. Whether or not he meant to, he severed them from their past lives and gave them new ones, all based on his vision of what’s good, while seeing no issue with it. Sure, in his mind, he’s pursuing a goal that is undeniably noble: making the world a better place. But that exact mindset, coupled with his failure to recognise his blind spots, is what leads to the final battle. That’s what makes Viktor’s symbiosis with Hexcore so dangerous.

That said, none of that makes him an evil mastermind bent on ruling the world. He’s a flawed human who makes mistakes, and he just happened to wield a power that could reshape human souls. I think Viktor is a great example of how even the best and most genuine intentions can end up causing a lot of harm.

The theory that he was mind-controlled by Arcane is interesting and valid, and I agree that Arcane played a role in his changes. But I don’t think that’s the whole story. Viktor was always a complex character with both good and bad traits, and I believe Arcane’s corruption did no more than amplify some of them while dulling others. I don’t see why the fear of losing control would be OOC for him. People can fall into extremes, and Viktor’s extreme (regardless of his connection to Arcane) was the belief that peace could only be achieved by eliminating any potential source of conflict in people — including their literal free will — and imposing that belief on everybody around. Personally, I like to view his arc as his response to the trauma of dying in the bombing rather than his possession by Arcane. But that’s just me.

Oh, that is interesting. Did suddenly "the end justify the means" or becomes murder a great deed, if the right character is killed?

And I feel like I should address this as well. First, with all due respect, I’d appreciate it if we could avoid passive-aggressive language. Second, no, I never said Jayce did a great thing by killing Salo (though one could argue that by then, Salo was already dead — overtaken by Viktor — and was essentially just a robot).

What I did say is that I was surprised by how people reacted as if Jayce had destroyed something pure and sacred when he killed Viktor, because I found the commune suspicious from the start and assumed Jayce had a deeper insight into what was really going on. And as we saw later, Jayce did see the commune as the lifeless constructs Viktor was turning them into. But remember, except for Salo, Jayce didn’t touch any other commune member. His goal was to prevent the world from becoming the nightmare he saw in the parallel reality — in other words, to stop Viktor. And stopping Viktor was exactly what he did.

Viktor’s commune always gave off creepy vibes, but for me, the path it was taking became crystal clear at the start of ep6. That first scene basically spells out the extent of Viktor’s corruption and how far his actions and mindset are from any kind of altruism.

Think about it: Viktor sees Jayce kill Salo through Salo’s eyes. He’s connected to Salo but doesn’t even try to comfort him, verbally or mentally, or ease his pain with magic in his final moments. He just stands there, watching. Waiting for Salo to die, staring at Jayce. The only time he flinches is when Jayce lunges forward, and Salo dies abruptly — his vision cuts to black.

And look at Viktor's face when it happens. That’s not horror. That’s not astonishment. That’s not grief. It’s… mild annoyance, I'd say?

Like, ugh. Jayce didn’t get it. He didn’t appreciate my work. And now he’s also destroyed one of my puppets. Sounds pretty frustrating, doesn't it, Viktor?

Then Sky says, “poor Salo”, and Viktor? Immediately pivots to, “That’s not Jayce. It’s another will at work within him”. And a moment later, he’s fascinated by the Anomaly. Salo’s gone, and no one spares him an extra thought.

And that’s the thing about Viktor’s commune — it was never about the people who joined it. It was never about understanding them, helping them, or connecting with them. It was all about Viktor’s desperate need to be in control, about his refusal to confront suffering, pain, and all the messy, complicated parts of being human. From the very beginning, it was about Viktor going, “well, the end justifies the means”, but there’s nothing kind or humanistic about that philosophy, because it always comes at the expense of people’s lives. The end never justifies the means.

And honestly, I was surprised to see how many people were mad at Jayce for blasting Viktor at the end of that episode. In my opinion, by then, it was quite clear that Viktor didn’t care much about his Arcane-modified toys. He wasn’t even pretending he did. Salo wasn’t a person to him. None of them were. They were just tools, stepping stones for his glorious evolution.

And all of that was right there in the first scene of ep6.

[redrose10]

I hope you like it! Thanks for requesting. @suga-nya

<Confetti Cake Crush>

Idol Yoongi x Female Reader. Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Slight amount of angst, insecurities, hints of smut but nothing explicit

Prompts in bold

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

“Take the picture!”, you gritted through your teeth, “This cake is really heavy.” Taehyung was trying to shed to get the perfect shot but he did snap a few photos of you holding up your birthday cake at your “surprise” birthday party before Hoseok came and helped you put the cake on the table. It wasn’t really a surprise because being the executive accounting assistant you knew about all of the spending that went on at the company. When you saw a receipt for a birthday cake to be delivered on your birthday and balloons and a handwritten receipt that said birthday gift for Y/N…shhhh…don’t tell her, you knew it was coming. But it was still thoughtful and nice of them to go out of their way to set this up for you.

You couldn’t help but notice one important piece was missing though. Yoongi. Your best friend. For the last four years he had always been by your side. You hung out after work or before work if possible. Spoke on the one at least once a day. So for him to miss out on your birthday party stung a little bit.

You couldn’t say that you blamed him though. & it was the other way around there would have been no way you would have showed up to his party.

“I like you…like a lot Y/N. I uh I…I love you actually.”, he shyly said to you a week ago. You watched his ears turn bright red before he looked up at you, one of the rare times he held eye contact for more than a few seconds. You wanted to kiss him and tell him you loved him too, that you have for a while to be honest.

But his eyes looked so warm and sweet and loving and you just couldn’t be the one to hurt him so you decided to let him down early before you guys were in too deep,

“I’m…I…I’m sorry. I can’t. I have to go.”, you replied and walked out of his studio so he wouldn’t see you cry. Other than a text from him asking if you made it home safely that night you hadn’t heard from or seen him since.

“Not eating any cake?”, Namjoon asked startling you out of your day dream. “No.”, you laughed, “I saw a bunch of finger prints all over the frosting and I have a feeling they weren’t from the bakery.”, you said pointing at Jungkook and Jin manhandling the cake trying to slice and plate it.

“Yeah don’t blame you.”, he chuckled.

“Have you seen Yoongi today?”, you questioned even though you were already pretty sure of the answer, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“I saw him this morning. Said something about being busy in his studio all day.”

You hummed in acknowledgement.

“I can’t say that I blame him. Getting rejected by one of your best friends no less is pretty rough.”

“You know about that?”, you groaned.

“Of course I know about that. We’re like brothers. We tell each other everything.”

“How is he doing Joon?”, you quietly asked.

“Well.”, he chuckled, “He’s hurt, pretty heartbroken I’d say. I mean getting rejected sucks, but he’s a big boy. He can handle it. But…what I want to know is why?”

Your brows furrowed, “What do you mean why?”

“Y/N, we all know that you’ve had a huge crush on him for a while so why did you reject him when he confessed to you? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to…it’s just been something I’ve been wondering about.”

“I um I just…”, you sighed, “He’s him and I’m me. That’s all. It’s one thing for me to have a crush on him, but knowing he also liked me made it too real. I panicked.”

“What do you mean by that?”, he asked. You hated that he did things like that. He played dumb so that you would have to talk through what you were feeling. You had seen him do it a million times with the rest of the group, but now you were on the receiving end.

“You know what I mean. He’s talented, successful, rich. He’s only dated other idols who are just as talented and beautiful as he is. And I…I sit behind a desk answering phone calls and collecting paperwork and inputting numbers into a system. I’m nowhere near being on his level. What will people think of they find out we’re dating? So I rejected him for his own good. I didn’t want him to regret it one day and then we’ll both be more upset.”

The way Namjoon let out a deep belly laugh surprised you. When he saw your face of anger he quickly coughed and changed his demeanor, “Sorry sorry, but Y/N you should know better than anyone that Yoongi doesn’t care about things like that. He doesn’t care about status or money or what others think. He likes you because you’re you. And you know he doesn’t take something like confessing lightly. So if he told you he loved you that means he really does love you. He’s never told anyone that before.”

Deep down you knew he was right, but it was hard to accept. You genuinely thought you were doing the right thing by rejecting him now so it didn’t end up in heartbreak later, but you were living with immense regret ever since.

“I’m not telling you how to live your life Y/N, but …”, he said reaching over and grabbing a slice of cake with the least amount of finger prints, “You know Yoongi loves confetti cake just as much as you do.”

You got the hint he was giving and took the cake, “Thanks Joon. I’ll take this up to him and maybe have a talk.”

Normally you’d just enter in the code to his studio and let yourself in without much thought. But after the recent events doing that felt strange and that saddened you. You knocked and waited a few moments before knocking again this time a little bit harder. When he still didn’t answer you were a little impatient so you decided to put in the code and enter the studio on your own before you lost the courage you currently had.

“I told you guys I’m busy.”, he grumbled when he heard the door beep without even looking away from the computer screen.

“Too busy for cake?”, you spoke making him jump because he wasn’t expecting to hear your voice. You giggled when you saw him spin around in his chair so fast nearly falling out of it.

“Y/N, wh-what are you doing here?”

You held up the slice of cake, “It’s confetti. Our favorite!”

“Thank you. I’m uh I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. I’m just really busy and have to get this song done by the deadline and…”

“It’s okay.”, you cut him off before he could continue his rant, “I understand why you weren’t there.”

He sat down on the leather couch next to you giving a tight lipped smile, but didn’t say anything.

“Y/N”

“Yoongi”

You both laughed at the coincidence. “You first.”, you said.

He took a deep breath, “Y/N…I’m sorry about the other day. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I guess I…I guess I just misread some things between us and I thought you liked me too.”

“I do!”, you jumped up before feeling a little embarrassed and clearing your throat and sitting back down, “I mean I do like you too.”

“Then why…”, he turned to look at you, “Then why did you leave like that the other day?”

“Um…well I just thought I was doing the right thing because I didn’t want you to end up regretting it.”

“What?!”, he laughed, “I would never regret anything about you or us.”

“I know I know. It’s just that you’re you and I’m me and I didn’t see us working out in the long run because of that.”

“Mmmhhm I see now.”, he said scooting a little closer to you, “Y/N, I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, but that doesn’t mean I regret it one bit. I love who you are as a person. I love how kind you are and how sweet and thoughtful you are. I think you’re beautiful and smart and the best thing to ever happen to me. I mean all of that. And I can’t guarantee we’d be together forever, but I have no plans of ever letting you go.”

You buried your face into his neck feeling overwhelmed, “I love you too Yoongi.”

You could feel him shuffling around a little bit. “Hey look at me.”, he said tapping your forehead, “Happy birthday Y/N.”

You looked down at the black box wrapped in a red bow.

“I was gonna have Jimin distract you so I could put it on your desk before you left for the day.”

Excitedly you untied the bow and snapped open the black velvet box. “Wow Yoongi. It’s gorgeous. Thank you so much!”, you said handing him the necklace and turning around so he could clasp it around your neck. When he was done you looked down at the sparkly daisy pendant with a smile.

“Oh! Here have some cake!“, you said reaching for the plate, but he beat you to it.

“No, I should be feeding cake to the birthday girl.”

“But confetti cake is your favorite.”

“Yes, but it’s also your favorite too.”

The two of you bickered back and forth while fighting for control of the fork. One thing led to another and next thing you knew somehow the slice of cake toppled over and slid down your face onto your chest leaving a trail of frosting all the way down to your thighs and onto the floor.

“Oh no I’m sorry.”, he giggled while searching for a napkin to clean you up.

“No it’s okay. I don’t mind. I hate this shirt anyways.”, you giggled along with him.

“You could always take it off.”, he said while wiping away at the frosting on your cheek, “Only if you want to that is.”, he added. Both of your cheeks blushed.

Your fingers had a mind of their own as they quickly undid the buttons pulling off the scratchy material you always hated. You sat there just in your skirt and black lace bra feeling very exposed.

When you noticed Yoongi staring at you intently your cheeks heated up in embarrassment even more and you tried to hide your face with your hands, but he stopped you.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?”, he rasped. His voice deeper than normal.

You nodded, “Yeah a little.”

“Don’t be.”, he shook his head, “You have nothing to be nervous about around me. I think you’re beautiful Y/N. Every single bit of you.”

He leaned over and engulfed your lips into a kiss which you happily reciprocated.

“Do you want to go further?”, he pulled away to ask.

You nodded, “Yes please.”

So he pushed you back onto the couch spreading your legs to make some room for him.

He took the slice of cake smearing more of the frosting all over your body.

Then he licked at the frosting on your skin. First on your chest before moving down to your thighs. His tongue warm and soft and causing your excitement to build.

“Okay princess. Let me make this a birthday you’ll never forget.”, he smirked before undoing his belt.

He leaned in for another kiss before pulling down your skirt and tossing it somewhere in the corner of the room.

His kiss tasted like sugar and cream and vanilla and god you loved confetti cake.

[etherealeowyn]

Can't Take My Eyes off You - Johnny Storm x Reader

Word Count: 2,418

I really liked how this story came out, and I'm contemplating writing a second part for this piece! Let me know if you want part 2!

Johnny dialed Y/n’s number on the rotary phone, and held it up to his ear, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm himself to ask the woman out.

He had only talked to her briefly earlier in the day, but he could tell that this girl was special, so much so that he wasn’t about to leave the café where she worked without getting her number.

He stared at the small, lined piece of paper in his hand, adorned with her nice handwriting, hoping she had given him her real number instead of a fake one.

“Hello?” a voice asked on the other line, and Johnny couldn’t stop a smile from forming when he recognized her voice.

“Hi, this is Johnny, the guy from the café earlier,” he spoke, his voice slightly shaky from nerves.

“Yes, I remember you,” Y/n spoke with a little laugh, finding his nervousness cute.

“Haha I’m glad, I got tickets to see Frankie Valli tomorrow, and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me. I understand if you can’t, but I have a feeling I’d enjoy myself a lot more if you were there with me,” he responded, letting a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth.

“In that case, I would love to go with you,” she replied, and it was obvious she was smiling just by hearing the tone of her voice.

“Perfect, just give me your address and I’ll pick you up at 6,” he excitedly said, writing down her address on the other side of the paper he held.

The two exchanged information before he placed the phone down and hung up, letting out a deep sigh of relief knowing that everything went exactly how he wanted it to. He fell back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, letting his mind run rampant with thoughts about tomorrow, and how pretty he knew Y/n would look.

Y/n on the other hand, wasn’t as relaxed, she frantically ran over to her closet and began pulling out a series of different dresses, in an attempt to find one she believed would look the best. She’d slip one on and then immediately tear it off after she deemed it wasn’t the best option.

That was until she pulled on a pastel yellow chiffon dress that was fitted around her torso and flared below her waist. It was poofy, but not too much, and it fell to just about knee length. It was elegant, but at the same time, it was playful. She deemed it to be perfect.

She hung it up in her room and pulled out a pair of heels that matched perfectly, and in her opinion made her legs look stunning.

The second she picked everything out, she happily jumped up and down, unable to contain her excitement for tomorrow.

It took her forever to fall asleep that night, and it felt like an eternity waiting for the morning to arrive. But she managed to get a little sleep, just enough to make sure she had enough energy for the day ahead of her.

Johnny began to get ready, slipping on a pair of grey dress pants and tucking in his white button-up shirt. He grabbed a tie from inside his dresser drawer, and wrapped it around his neck, leaning closer to the mirror as he adjusted it. His tongue partially stuck out of his mouth in concentration, and his body had become tense, yet all that stress drained from his body when he managed to get everything to look right.

He looked down at his silver watch and saw that it was about 5:15, so he grabbed his keys and began to walk to where his car was parked. Johnny turned the key into the driver’s side door and opened it before jumping in and adjusting the radio.

He left a little bit early so he could stop at the flower shop to pick her up something because he wanted to do everything in his power to make sure Y/n would enjoy this date. To be completely and utterly honest, he was overwhelmed when he saw the variety of bouquets that lined the store, but he ended up getting a mixture of yellow, orange, and pink roses.

Setting them gently on the passenger seat, he looked at the address written on the lined piece of paper and headed to her house.

The house was well-kept, and Johnny could tell there was a sort of warmth radiating from it. It seemed like one of those houses where good memories were made, and it made him hope one day that he could have something like that for himself.

Walking up the pathway, he held the flowers and adjusted his tie one more time before he rang the doorbell. His throat tightened from nerves as he waited for someone to answer the door, and every second that went by felt like an eternity.

He composed himself one final time when he heard the door unlock, and he couldn’t help but smile when Y/n appeared in front of him. Johnny stood there for a moment in awe of the woman standing in front of him, because her dress clung to her body perfectly, and he loved the way that her hair was down, yet it curled up at the ends.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” Johnny started, “I got you these, I wasn’t sure what your favorite flower was, but I tried to pick out something that was pretty like you.”

He couldn’t stop a rosy blush from appearing on his face when he handed her the flowers. Y/n eagerly took them, and pulled them towards her nose, closing her eyes as she inhaled the fresh scent.

“Thank you, I love roses,” Y/n excitedly responded, looking up at him gleaming.

“You can come in for a second while I put these in water,” she continued, motioning for him to enter with her free hand.

Johnny stepped inside, as Y/n closed the door behind, and immediately he could smell the sweet aroma of baked goods fresh out of the oven. She didn’t take a very long time to put the flowers in a vase, but as he waited, his eyes followed her every move.

He watched as her delicate, manicured hands gently unwrapped the flowers and placed them in the crystal glass. Y/n smiled as she carefully arranged the roses to make sure that they were all situated properly, and Johnny felt like his heart was going to burst right there on the spot.

He hardly knew the woman, yet he was already so undoubtedly infatuated with her that he wasn’t sure what he would do if she didn’t like him.

“Johnny, they look absolutely gorgeous, thank you so much,” Y/n told him, as she set the vase on the counter in front of him, so he could admire the purchase he made.

“Of course, you ready to go?” Johnny asked, holding out his hand for her to take/

She grabbed it before replying, “Definitely, I’m so excited,” and letting her lead her to his car.

Y/n couldn’t help but find his car to be stunning, she loved the baby-blue color of it, plus it was obvious that he kept incredibly good care of it. She watched in admiration as his hand pulled open the passenger side door, and he sweetly smiled at her, waiting until she was inside and situated before closing it for her. He walked around to the other side of the car and hopped in, before starting the ignition and pulling out into the street.

The entire way there, the pair didn’t shut up, it didn’t matter what the topic of conversation was. It was especially nice because both felt more comfortable in the presence of each other by the time Johnny pulled up to the venue.

Y/n could see people waiting outside, but there wasn’t a super long line, which was surprising to her because Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons were pretty big at the time. Their music was playing on the radio practically all the time.

Johnny got out of the car and handed his keys to the valet, before letting Y/n out of the car and taking her straight to the door of the venue, instead of waiting in the line.

“Hey Johnny, have a nice night,” security spoke, as he pulled back the velvet rope blocking the entrance.

Once they got far enough away inside, Y/n questioned, “How’d you know that guy?” surprised by their quick entry.

She noticed that people were staring at them as they walked by, but she just figured it was because they cut the line, now that she thought about it, it was odd because no one looked angry. Rather, they looked more shocked than anything.

“Well, you see, I kind of have an important job,” Johnny responded, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his free hands, he was nervous to tell her about his powers, but at the same time, it was refreshing that she didn’t know who he was. Mostly because it prevented her from having any preconceived notions about him.

“Oh yeah? What do you do?” Y/n asked sweetly, holding onto his arm and turning her head to look at him.

“Uh, I’m part of the Fantastic Four, I have these… powers,” he said, and he expected her to have a drastic, expressive reaction, but she didn’t. However, that didn’t stop his heart from frantically pounding in his chest.

“Why do you look so ashamed, that sounds incredible,” she replied slightly furrowing her brows, as her eyes lit up in some sort of astonishment.

“I guess I thought you’d think I’m some kind of weirdo or freak,” He scoffed, staring down at the ground in front of him.

“I certainly don’t think you’re a freak, and who cares if you’re a weirdo, I consider myself one,” Y/n laughed, “And to be completely honest, it sounds like you’re a hero, which I deeply admire. I could tell you have a good heart.”

Johnny was mildly taken aback by her comment, mostly because he didn’t ever truly think he was a hero. Yes, he did heroic things, but he was much too humble to call himself a hero. But the way the words rolled off her tongue, and the admiration behind her gaze made him feel good. People had told him he was special before, yet the genuine nature of Y/n’s words made him believe it.

His face felt hot as a blush overtook his features, and for a second, he was speechless. The only thing he managed to do at that moment was smile, as he hastily scrambled to come up with a sentence.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this flustered before,” Johnny replied, letting out a breathy laugh, “I’m not used to getting complimented so sincerely, especially by a woman as beautiful as you.”

“Aww thank you, if it makes you feel any better, you look incredibly cute when you’re all flustered,” she giggled, grabbing a drink for him and herself off the tray of one of the bartenders walking around.

He took a sip from his glass before responding, “I’m glad you think so, if I was any redder, I think I’d turn into a tomato.”

“Don’t worry, you’re far from looking like a tomato, to be completely honest, I’m kind of jealous because when you blush it makes the color of your eyes pop,” she joked, though she wasn’t lying one bit, his eyes did look extremely blue.

Their conversation was cut short though when the lights dimmed, and a man walked on stage announcing that the concert was about to begin.

“Would you rather sit down at one of the tables, or go dance?” Johnny whispered, leaning in close to the woman’s ear. He was content regardless of what her answer was because honestly, he just wanted to be close to her.

“I’d love to dance with you,” Y/n responded, looking at the man with a smirk on her face.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he spoke, holding her hand and walking her over to the dance floor where couples were already beginning to congregate.

Johnny’s hands softly held onto her hips, as Y/n’s arms draped around his neck. The two swayed with one another as the band began to play a slowed-down version of Can’t Take My Eyes off You.

You're just too good to be true Can't take my eyes off of you

Y/n’s head was tilted up slightly, just enough so that the two could maintain eye contact. Though they didn’t say a word, it was clear that both were enjoying themselves, just by the way their eyes were gleaming.

You'd be like Heaven to touch I wanna hold you so much

“I know this might be forward, but can I kiss you?” Johnny asked, studying the woman’s face for an answer before she even said anything.

“Absolutely,” she responded, her eyes that were once staring into his, now lowering until they were fixated on his lips before fluttering upwards once again.

He removed one of his hands from the woman’s waist and used it to cup the side of her cheek, leaning towards her until his lips connected with hers. The kiss was urgent, yet at the same time tender, and within a couple of seconds, Y/n stepped closer to the man limiting the space between them.

At long last love has arrived And I thank God I'm alive

When their lips disconnected, they pulled away slowly, letting their eyes slowly flutter open. Seemingly still lost in the trance of the kiss they shared.

Johnny’s hand lowered back down to her waist, and he pulled Y/n closer to her body until it was pressed up against his. Her head found comfort lying against his chest, listening to his heartbeat almost in time with the music. He pressed a kiss on the top of her head, before smiling to himself as he looked down at the woman in his arms.

He hadn’t been this happy in a long time, and he was savoring every second of the feeling. Johnny didn’t say a single word because he was afraid that he would ruin the moment, so instead, he simply held her tighter and desperately hoped this was going to be the start of a new chapter in his life.

You're just too good to be true Can't take my eyes off you

[megapteraurelia]

hiii just saw your post about needing distraction and if i can help you even a little bit then i’d be happy to!! so id like a drabble with akaashi, f!reader or gn!reader, fluff, at uni?? if that’s fine?? have a lovely day <33

zeugmas and feelings.

summary | akaashi keiji and you found each other while trying to survive deadlines. or: how to not get anything done because akaashi keiji is just so damn pretty. warnings | none! it's meet-cute and fluff :3; fem!reader word count | 4449. a/n | elie, i love you, you precious!!! thank you for this and i'm sorry that i didn't keep to the idea of a drabble. for the life of me, i could NOT pass up writing several moments of akaashi so there's 4.5k words full of them instead T_T i hope i made it justice, though :3 please let me know what you think! -` ♡ ´-

the library was silent on sunday; eerie yet comforting in a way. 

the sun had long since set, the last of the rays that came through the windows bathing everything in a light that felt more nostalgic than it actually was before it dipped everything outside in a dark cloak. among the typing sounds on different kinds of laptops, their engines more than ready to take off after being used for so long, there was only the ticking of the clock, sometimes a soft clearing of throats or the gentle clink of a thermo cup being set down.

looking up from the mock exam you were taking for your cultural studies class, flexing your cramped fingers and rolling your shoulders, your eyes found the only other person sharing your space that late. you didn’t mean to look over at him lest you made anybody feel awkward, but in an entire picture of stillness before you, the movement drew your eyes naturally.

his fingers were swift, flying over the keyboard, gaze trained at his screen, trusting his hands to instinctively and automatically follow the letters. you couldn’t see his eyes properly, though, the glare of the laptop reflecting off his glasses. though you could see the little furrow of concentration in his brows, his teeth worrying his lower lip as he halted for a second, thinking. then nodding to himself, they resumed their display of a gear having turned in his brain. 

your eyes wandered away from him to your own screen, the words staring at you, and you wondered once again whether you should have chosen a different topic to cover in this assignment. would american history work better? did you have enough characteristics to explain the relevance in the corresponding text? or did you perhaps want to stay focusing on orientalism? 

after all, american history was your current topic discussed in class, its myths and ideologies, transformation of gender roles, the age of realism and science. it would be easier to just focus on any of those: the harlem renaissance, counterculture and postmodernism, the gilded age— 

you rubbed your eyes, and a sigh escaped your mouth, strong and carrying a lot of exhaustion; your lungs pushed the air out forcefully. you were too far in to scrap everything and start anew with a whole nother topic, so there was only one plausible and logical conclusion to draw:

get more coffee and force your brain cells to work.

standing up from your spot, senses tuned into the stillness of the library, you noticed something. or lack thereof. no typing noise anymore that had accompanied you for hours on end; the seat in front of the man’s laptop empty, his notebooks still open on the table, though no cup on the empty coaster. 

as you walked by with your empty mug and passed the little area that his pens and his dispersed papers claimed as his for the time being, you let your eyes flit over his screen. walls of paragraphs comparing two different works of literature on one half of his desktop, another document open with several similarities and differences listed on the other half. 

“japanese lit, huh?” you mumbled to yourself, tired eyes straying away from his possessions and your feet automatically carried you to the coffee machine at the entrance of the library that the students of various classes had invested in to aid them during their emotional breakdowns…uh, quest to finish their essays and assignments in time. 

zoning out, gripping your mug in one hand, you barely recognised the familiar movement of a person occupying the space in front of you out of the periphery of your eyes as you neared the coffee machine, so you only came back to reality when your nose was suddenly squished against a warm barrier that smelled like cappuccino and old books. 

“easy,” a deeper voice than yours called out close to your head, one hand having already come up to steady you when you lost your balance. his hand was warm against your back, the heat seeping through the layers of your woolen turtleneck, and for a second you both occupied the same space, the only sound the ticking of the clock.

“oh, sorry,” your response was automatic, sheepish and you stepped back, “i probably saw you but my brain didn’t work quick enough to actually see you.”

your gaze found the missing person whose laptop you snooped through (did it count as snooping if you only quickly looked at the screen enough to see what he was working on? you didn’t even touch anything, promise), and this time you could see his eyes, unhindered by any light reflection. 

pretty, you thought off-handedly, really pretty eyes.

“no stress,” one shoulder heaved up, and when his fingers stopped supporting you once he saw you didn’t need his help anymore, your back felt weirdly cool. it was nice having felt the heat of his arm around your body in the absence of any human contact in the face of studying. 

he filled water into the reservoir of the coffee machine, a cup of beans already measured from before you walked into him. you cleared your throat and nodded in thanks; he bowed his head quickly, waving off your thank you, his hand nudging up his glasses perched on his nose when they threatened to slide down. 

they were a bit big, but the earnest look of the dark blue eyes accompanying them made them all the more alluring; like they caged a ton of unsaid thoughts behind them, like there was so much those eyes wanted to tell but they had to get through the barrier of the glasses first. 

a transparent mask to hide behind.

“sooo, how’s the coffee?” you asked to fill the silence when your eyes met again, looking away just as quickly, because you hadn’t expected that his sharp pupils found you the same way your eyes found his. stupid question, to be honest, when the coffee machine whirred in answer, and there was a slight smile playing on his lips.

“i don’t know yet,” he held up his opened thermos cup to show you the lack of liquid that he could not judge on yet, and your cheeks flared up at the obvious demonstration, mumbling quietly to yourself, thinking that the coffee machine was too loud for him to understand: “sorry, that was…an incredibly stupid question.”

“you’re okay,” his quiet and steady voice came back to meet your ears, held back amusement lingering in the folds of his tenor. he heard you just fine, “though probably just like bitter water.”

leaning back against the wall, he joined you in waiting, and then there was comfortable silence between you both. he was close enough to feel the air warm up, close that if you glanced up again, you could see his lashes brush his cheek as he closed his eyes for a quick reprieve, the curls of his hair, messy and falling over his ears, his lips sitting together calmly, sometimes twisting when he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

you looked away again, to the coffee machine that went from grinding the coffee beans to finally pouring the hot water through it and dripping into the pot. you thought you recognised him from somewhere, this boy with the gentle, kind eyes and the charming glasses. you couldn’t help but steal another glance at him, trying to gauge where from, whether you had met him on campus before.

“i can feel you staring.”

whirling your head away from his still closed eyes and the fingers messing with his hair, you felt embarrassment brewing within your chest alongside the coffee in front of you. stupid, stupid.

“sorry.”

“don’t be. i don’t mind,” he said, still the same reserved amusement hiding behind his words, and then he did open his eyes to turn to you, and you returned the favour of looking over him again. your gazes met for a split second, dead-on, before they parted again to look at other features, “you’re in professor yoshida’s class, right?”

“right! that’s where  i know you from,” recognition finally bloomed, and you tested out the name that was continuously popping up in your mind during the short wait, wondering whether it was him, “akaashi keiji, right? you looked familiar.”

akaashi opened his mouth to respond, but halted for a split second; his cheeks and ears using this one moment to turn into a soft pink. when he caught himself and talked, you had an inkling that he meant to say something completely different: “yeah, exactly. what are you working on?”

“cultural studies. incredibly boring.”

“japanese lit,” he nodded in sympathy, then moved to pour coffee into both of your cups. you wanted to thank him, take the cup yourself and move, but he beat you to it. reflexes sharp and swift movement, he maneuvered around you easily to carry both of your coffee mugs back to the table you both shared. 

“thank you,” you said at last, seated away from him at your own laptop with the steaming cup warming your hands, the same old words on the screen staring back at you, and he responded in likes; his voice comfortable and easy, deep and as warm as the drink in your hand, “of course.”

both of you continued working, though amongst the clicking of keyboard keys and the silent breathing were the little glances both of you threw at the other now that there was some common ground found. when you got stuck with how to phrase a certain sentence, chin supported on your hand, your eyes wandered to him out of their own volition and instinctually, and you watched him focus on his work. 

the way his teeth would not stay still, constantly picking on his lips, his fingers rubbing his chin when he thought; the light warming up his face and making it seem like his hair was draped over him like a dark curtain. 

then you’d attend to your work again, and it was akaashi’s turn to let his eyes and mind wander over to you to watch you get stuck with another paragraph, biting your nail while the other hand was tapping on the keys lightly without pressing too hard, eyes intently focused on the words. 

you had an intense look in your eyes, and everytime, there were little butterflies erupting behind his ribcage when he felt you dedicate it to him.

those moments in between, when both of your eyes passed the others, belonged to nobody but the empty library. moments, in which you allowed yourselves to bask in the heat of fading instances, of arcane glances, interrupted by little sighs here and there or random occurrences, in which you both just couldn’t help but talk to each other:

“i’m jealous of your concentration,” you groaned at some point, allowing your forehead to thump onto your arm to bury your face away from the screen and its cruel, glaring light, “you look like you’re about to solve all the problems in this world.”

akaashi had stilled in his work, startled, eyes glancing up over the rim of his glasses up to you, and his teeth finally let go of his poor, swollen lower lip; mouth curling into a small embarrassed smile, “not quite. but i may be able to help you with yours, if that’s a start.”

you laughed at yourself for the strange thump your heart produced, hand waving him off, “sweet of you, but i just need some of that laser focus you’ve got.”

“sending you some.”

pretending to catch the energy he threw your way, you perked up in your seat and flashed him a grin, “you’re a lifesaver.”

“oh fu— shit.”

he was already beside you with napkins, big hands dabbing up the spilled lukewarm coffee as you worked to put away your electronics and books lest they’d get ruined by the deep brown liquid. he was close, leaning over you, hands working fast and precise, feeling his chest bump against your shoulders ever so slightly. your body warmed up at the contact, and you had to try not to lose your mind over that.

“ugh, i swear this is not my usual.”

“i’ll believe you when i see you prove the opposite to me,” he said quietly, a certain openness in his voice, a silent offer to spend many more moments together like this. 

you looked up at him, a smile stealing itself on your lips, “i suppose if you’re asking to be humiliated and be proven wrong, then i won’t say no.”

the skin underneath akaashi’s glasses had warmed up, and as he went back to his seat, he had stuttered back, “that’s— i didn’t— nobody said anything about humiliation! also, you’re the one who barely escaped electronic and academic death. gotta tone down the murderous intent a little.”

“never. every essay is my arch-nemesis, so they got what was coming for them.”

akaashi had shook his head, and laughed quietly to himself; the sound as honeyed as your favourite dessert. 

when he returned from his bathroom break later on, he brought you back a new cup of coffee, anyway, despite his fear of you murdering your hard effort of having added only three extra paragraphs to your text in all the time (you were a little busy staring at akaashi keiji’s pretty eyes; nobody was allowed to judge your slow pace).

you fell back with a big oohmpf and a yelp. 

dazed, you looked up at the ceiling, the low warm light of the library in the midst of the dark outside looking enticing enough to fall asleep right there. you stayed on the ground for a second, most of your fall cushioned by the chair, though your butt still throbbed with the impact. 

“hey,” a couple steps resonated before a messy head of curls peeked over you, one hand holding the glasses in place, while the other was reaching towards you to help you up, “you alright?”

“y-yeah,” you sat up, shaking your head a bit to clear it from the zoning out you were doing before gravity decided to take you down, “i suppose that’s why teachers always say not to rock your chair back and forth.”

suppressed laughter, mild concern, and a warm hand engulfing you, “what a delinquent. i bet the teachers loved you.”

“hey! what’s that supposed to mean? they loved me! incredibly so!”

“okay. i think i need help.”

“of course, what do you need?”

“do you understand what i’m trying to convey when i phrase it like that? ugh, i’m scared it’s too convoluted.”

“give me a second,” he finished up his sentence, then came over, “let me see.”

his chest pressed against the back of your (now upright) chair as he leaned over you to read your run-on sentence was distracting you. he wasn’t touching you per se, but the placement of his hands on the arms of the chair could cage you in, make you feel like he was embracing you from behind, so much taller than you. the warmth emitting from behind you made you want to fall asleep and let your head land in the crook of his neck.

he was breathing softly, the air caressing your hair, and when he reached out to point at your words, your eyes followed the red knuckles, his clean nails and the size of his hands. 

“you mean that the west created orientalism as a cultural and intellectual framework, right?” — a quick nod of yours — “alright, then i think if you cut this in two sentences, for one to showcase the interpretation of the east and then dive deeper into the colonisation in the next sentence — that would make it more understandable. say, am i making you nervous?”

blinking, “w—what? where did that come from?”

he leaned down slightly, face hovering next to yours, his voice slightly raw and close to your earshell, “don’t forget to breathe. also, you have a typo — row three, the fourteenth word.”

“evil,” your breathing was clipped from the insinuation that he may have had an effect on you, heart pumping blood through your body like crazy as if it was held at gunpoint, “i bet the teachers really disliked you.”

despite that, you brought him a cup of coffee when you returned from your bathroom break, too.

“you alright, akaashi?” you asked.

akaashi keiji looked up, his hand rubbing his neck, kneading the knots out of his tense shoulders. his eyes, until just short of when you called him, had been glazing over, a little bit of a vacant look entering the blue of his eyes, but when you called his name, he had snapped out of it, and his features relaxed slightly, away from his troublesome thoughts. his dark brows furrowed deeply above his eyes.

“yeah, just thinking about all the deadlines coming up. it’s…” he sighed, allowing his shoulders to sink, and he leaned back in the uncomfortable library chairs; another big sigh escaping him, “...a lot.”

“yeah,” you agreed and stood up, walking over to him. his surprised gaze followed you, and when you stood right next to him with his head tilted back, the wavy strands of hair following gravity, looking up at you with those eyes, you felt a tug in your chest that told you to kiss him. you didn’t. 

instead, you nodded to the window, “let’s take a walk and a breather,” and then, because you couldn’t help yourself, “a zeugma. get it, mr. japanese literature?”

his shoulders stayed relaxed, and he laughed again; a brilliant smile on his lips and you thought of how you wanted to kiss him even more. his eyes felt lighter, too, when he pushed back his chair and stood up, body entirely too close for what probably should have been appropriate for two students who had only properly met today for the first time. or was it already the next day?

but neither of you moved for a second, drinking in the presence of each other, before he grabbed his jacket off his backrest, “i think you can do better.”

“well, i think it was pretty good.”

akaashi shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes, competing with the sparkle of the glasses when he turned and the light hit him just right, “and i think i have you beat there.”

you grumbled but caught up to him nonetheless.

it was cold outside. 

the kind that slithered through between the folds of your clothing to nestle deep in the crevices of your soul. the kind that had you shuddering and sending remnants of cannons into the air with every breath, the moisture immediately misting up. 

akaashi keiji was walking next to you, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, though his exhales were shaky too, chest trembling with compressed and suppressed shivers. you were already as close to him for warmth as possible without being weird or too straight-forward, though you wish you could just cling to his arm — it was that icy.

“i feel like i can’t even think,” you mumbled, already feeling your lips starting to numb, the tip of your nose burning. 

“me neither, but maybe that’s a good thing,” he breathed out, the warm air blowing past your temple, and his cheeks were so pink, it was cute, “sometimes it’s all too stressful, and i wish i could turn off my brain.”

“does that happen a lot?” 

you referred to the way his face looked like there was a headache incoming, how his fingers froze and his shoulders locked in; the way he seemed to absolutely crumble under the prospect of the things he needed to do and that awaited him. 

akaashi had an embarrassed smile on his face, shoulders drawn up for some warmth, the fuzziness of his jacket’s hood surrounding his reddening cheeks, “sometimes. there’s a lot of expectations riding on passing my classes. not just passing them, but passing them well.”

“by whom?” you leaned forward; curious eyes trying to catch his, “expectations set by the profs or by yourself?”

he stared at you, and his lips were slightly open; with every exhale, condensation snaked up the air like smoke, dissolving in the cold atmosphere all around you, though the air between you was slightly warm. his eyes looked kind and vulnerable for a second, “what a callout. guess i can’t even pretend that it’s not me, huh? you caught me.”

“not yet, i didn’t,” you dared say, and he stopped walking, even though it was colder to stay still than to move. you stopped, too. a snowflake floated between you, landing on his pink nose, melting at the warmth. 

the entire evening long — ever since you had bumped into him making coffee and you both went from studying alone to studying together, little jokes and jibes passing between you, curiosity and interest swapping between you with every glance, solitary and shared, you felt there was maybe a chance for something more. not necessarily all the way if it didn’t work out, but more to explore, more of him and you to meet.

“what does that mean, miss cultural studies?”

you blinked up at him, “i don’t know, mr. japanese literature. you’re the one who reads between the lines of books and analyses everything.”

“i’m not that far into my course,” he told you, seriously, and for a second you almost believed him, but then his eyes crinkled as he hid his smile behind the fluff of his jacket, and you pulled out one of your hands from the pockets of your coat to lightly pull his ear, not enough to cause pain but enough to chide him.

“you liar,” you said with no malice, voice soft and as your hand trailed down to hide your fingers in warmth again, his hand, fast as ever, pulled out of his own jacket, grabbed yours and stuffed both your hands in his pocket instead. 

incredibly warm, fingers locked between each other, soft skin kissing yours, “let’s go, it’s too cold.”

sometime around 2 am in the morning, you decided that you were going to fall asleep right then and there. sadly, coffee barely had an effect on your body anymore after having put your body through caffeine abuse for so long. 

during the hours of studying together, one of you moved closer to the other, so both of your books and notes were strewn together, sharing a space. his thermos cup stood next to a bunch of other cups both of you had drunk out of, because you kept forgetting to take the mug you were using with you and were forced to bring new ones. 

scrutinising a well-read book in the dim light, you ask, “is this mine?”

“unless you want to take home a copy of the setting sun with you and dissect the theme of youth in crisis, then i’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“ugh, i can’t even read anything anymore,” a beat of sly silence, “or you know, maybe i do want to. then i’ll have an excuse to see you again.”

“or,” akaashi butted in and gently offered you his phone, his smile straightforward yet a shy edge sweetening it up, “you can give me your number and we’ll meet up for another study session when you’re available. how’s that sound?”

in lieu of an answer, you saved your contact in his phone; your fingers caressing his under pretense of giving it back to him, and his movement was delayed, allowing the contact between you two to linger for a moment more.

“i’ll walk you back.”

“it’s not that far, so you don’t have to. it’s cold, too.”

akaashi sent you a look that very much told you he did not care how cold it was, there was no way he would let you walk alone at night. and when he did, your hands were buried in his pocket again. 

the world was quiet and still, as if you were caught up in another plane of existence for the past hours. a limbo of sleepy nature, perpetually falling snowflakes, the constant of the warmth akaashi offered, the bumping of arms as you walked in silence, subtly pulling him either to the left or the right when you needed to change the path.

“when is your assignment due?” you asked, lips barely moving from the cold, so you had to hiss out the words, barely understandable.

“four days ‘til friday. yours?”

“monday.”

another shaky exhale, the tremble evident in your shoulders, and you opted to walk a bit faster, even though you didn’t want to part with him yet. but cold was cold, and you would like to keep your toes still alive and kicking. so, it was no wonder that you arrived at your dormitory relatively fast, though even then, both of you stood in front of the entrance, not ready to say goodbye yet, not ready to leave the world of the dead and wake up the next day to greet the same usual bullshit. 

“meet me tomorrow,” he said with blue lips and red cheeks.

“okay,” you responded, heart fluttering when he didn’t let go of your hand. instead he took a step back and you were forced to follow, because you didn’t let go of his hand, either.

one step, another, a third one, then the tentative meeting of cold mouths. his breath was warm, his tongue warmer, and gradually your lips returned to their soft, mellow state. kissing him felt gentle, it felt safe and it felt like you could sink into him, like awaiting and catching you was a giant cloud that kept you floating up.

he kissed like he was a romantic. like he lived and breathed words meant for you, with the dedication and attention to detail only a writer or an artist could have, every stroke, every painted image on paper. he kissed like he had known you for a long time and intended to know you for even longer.

when you both parted, your lashes were brushing the rim of his glasses and your nose caressing his cheek, lips only inches away so it was only natural to kiss him again. 

“see you,” he let go of your hand at last.

later, an unknown number texted you, and you thought yourself corny, but you couldn’t help the smile that overtook your features at the cheesy line akaashi keiji thought he had you beat with:

from: +81 3 1762-3468 i left my other book and also my heart with you

and then:

from: +81 3 1762-3468 i really do need the book though, bring it tomorrow please :( goodnight x

[comradekiwi]

mini bkdk fic inspired by this art! pls go show the artist some love!!

Katsuki finds him after patrol in his old spot. His very old spot, from decades ago.

Izuku is curled up in a plastic tunnel, hand on his chin and muttering to himself as he scribbles, completely tuned out to the happy sounds of children running around their old playground.

It’s a painfully familiar sight, and Katsuki closes his eyes briefly at the pang in his chest as he sees, for one vivid moment, a four year old Deku sitting in the same red circle, with so much more space for his limbs, yet still equally curled into himself and his notebook. Izuku had always been like that, before OFA, most comfortable in a space much smaller than what he actually occupied, and forever curling into it. It was cute, then concerning, then a thing of the past as Izuku settled into his own skin. Now a nostalgic comfort, evidently.

(He’d been chubbier, freckled limbs in shorts and baby cotton, a mess of curls because Izuku loved to stick his hand in his hair while he thought. And he thought a lot, child of wonder, precious to the stars, the son of fate. Future hero of their time.)

Katsuki set one hand above the opening and leaned in.

“Whatcha doin’, nerd?”

Izuku, to his credit, only startled a little. He flashed wide eyes up at Katsuki, and Katsuki got the pleasure of watching his face light up shamelessly.

“Hi, Kacchan,” Izuku said cheerfully, and maybe this was how it should’ve gone back then, too, when four-year-old Katsuki stomped up to this same alcove and asked what Izuku was doing, maybe it did despite little Katsuki’s biting tone, because Izuku was always, had always been happy to see him,n maybe the scene had only been ruined by the taunts that came after. Katsuki didn’t quite remember, but it didn’t matter anymore. All the Katsuki of Now cared about was the poorly hidden affection in the glint of this Izuku’s eyes, adoration made solid and safe and secure.

The playset is a familiar feeling under Katsuki’s now rough palms, soft and intermittently scratched in thin lines. Izuku shuffles over in the tunnel and Katsuki folds his body to fit in next to him, and— the smell rocks him back in time, too, rubber and the tang of dirt so unusually close to his head, dyed plastic and oft-rubbed metal. Izuku’s shoulder pressing against his is a rare sensation, but it feels just as nostalgic, especially in here, backs and limbs curved along the inner surface of the tunnel. Katsuki kicks his legs up and almost knees himself in the face. Izuku giggles, and Katsuki shoulder-shoves him, delighting in how Izuku half heartedly shoves back. Izuku’s legs stay down, protectively, like he’s still that little kid so at home in his own tiny cocoon. Katsuki stares at his boots along the tunnel wall, giant in here, especially with their reach.

He shuffles his shoulders down to match Izuku’s, and leans into his space further to peer at his notebook. Izuku lets him, pointing at the page.

“I’m just lesson planning,” he says, tapping his pen at random notes Katsuki can only barely decipher, “They’ll have a pop quiz a month from now, I thought I’d let them do something fun afterwards as a treat.”

“You’re too soft on them,” Katsuki informs him for the umpteenth time. Izuku laughs at him as always.

“Sure, Kacchan,” he says, and Katsuki will never, ever get over how his name sounds from Izuku’s mouth, melodious like Izuku cradles it on the way out, like he’s singing it. He’s so— enchanting, his boy. Katsuki tries to throw an arm around him but ends up smacking his knuckles on hard plastic, and it stings like a bitch. He does not make a noise, but Izuku coos at him anyway, taking his hand and rubbing it, and Katsuki’s perfectly fine with that. He’s still tracing his notes with his eyes, thinking, always thinking, even as he absentmindedly brushes his mouth over Katsuki’s knuckles in some of Auntie Inko’s Healing Kisses. Izuku rubs his soft lips back and forth over his fingers, fully distracted now, enjoying the sensory stimulation. Katsuki lets him, chest stupidly warm, for a full minute before dragging his knuckles up over Izuku’s cheek, up and down, the skin endearingly freckled and babysoft even in his twenties. Izuku leans into his hand, and finally closes his eyes.

The sun was beginning to tease at setting, and Katsuki watches Izuku turn his head to look out the far end of the tunnel. Sunlight kissed the tops of his cheeks, dragged down his eyelashes. Katsuki couldn’t see much besides the back of Izuku’s head, but even this was precious to him for some godforsaken reason, from his crown to the nape of his neck where green curled enticingly against bare skin.

He leans forward to press his cheek against Izuku’s and look out, too. Some tots stumble over each other in excited giggles, pick themselves up from rubber mulch like they’d already forgotten the fall.

Katsuki feels Izuku’s cheek pull with a smile against his own, and the feeling is so — Katsuki doesn’t have words for it, but he just has to kiss him, so he does, right there in the kiddie tunnel of their neighborhood playground. He kisses his sweet, soft cheek, and then his temple, close-mouthed and drawn-out. He loves him so much. Maybe they’d have their own kids to watch from here some day. Or to seat beside them, an addition to their spot.

Katsuki sat back against the tunnel wall and Izuku ducked his face into his neck, the skin suspiciously warm. The nerd was probably blushing, as if they didn’t kiss, often much more salaciously, all the time. Katsuki rubbed his head with his chin, lasting about ten seconds before digging it into Izuku’s scalp with his jaw a little just to be a dick. Izuku shook him off and pouted even as he leaned into Katsuki’s mouth with the ease of a soul-bound lover, even though they weren’t even engaged yet. Soon, though. Katsuki was just waiting for the right time to really knock his socks off. It was the least he could do, after everything Izuku offered him.

(Love and safety and forgiveness. Somewhere to keep his heart safe, outside of his own body. Atonement and adoration and victory and a home.)

They didn’t kiss for long, they were in public after all, and even if no one could really see much over Katsuki’s shoulders or with the angle from the other end of the tunnel, they were still on a kids playground, and Katsuki was a pro with a reputation to uphold. He was honestly fairly certain a sneaky photo of him gently kissing his lover in an old playset would do wonders for his ranking, but he was selfish anyway, and wanted to keep these moments with Izuku for himself. Wanted to keep this side of himself for Izuku.

“C’mon. I’ll make curry tonight,” Katsuki mumbled against Izuku’s lips, hoping that would be enough for Izuku to pull away, because gods know in this one situation Katsuki is never strong enough to do it himself. As predicted, Izuku slips away with a soft noise that digs into Katsuki’s soul, and starts mumbling about groceries they’ll need to get on the way home, then.

Katsuki knows all that already, that’s why he came here to get him after all, so they could go together, so he takes to watching the dusk sink into the green of Izuku’s eyes, paint a glow into his face and his lips. He shuffles out obediently when Izuku starts pushing him, drags him out with one hand just to see him blush and stutter. Katsuki brushes a hand over the box in his pocket and thinks, maybe here, maybe this time of day, maybe soon. Izuku takes his hand easily and they start the short walk to the grocery store.

Soon, soon. Katsuki can’t wait.

[garbbitch]

i have so many thoughts about this so i apologize if this is scattered.

i saw this originally on TORRES’ story yesterday and it honestly made me sick. this disheartening. and something about the way people have been reacting to julien’s new upcoming project as opposed to how they’re reacting to lucy’s is making my heart hurt

like, idk, they’re both essentially at the same level of fame since they were both in boygenius, and yet lucy is getting article after article and interviews upon interviews about her and julien’s press has been relatively quiet beyond the one podcast and the one magazine. while lucy is doing radio, she is getting written about in multiple articles, her music was used for a fashion show. idk, i just feel like people are reacting so differently to each of them and it’s frustrating.

like people like to act like julien is less talented or something when she’s not! i’d even argue more talented but that’s a whole other conversation.

it’s like when the whole summer boygenius was touring everyone only ever talked about phoebe. idk, it rubs me the wrong way.

connected but unrelated thought,

people’s reactions to lucy’s video yesterday also piss me off quite a bit

like, i keep seeing a lot of the same arguments, some that i agree with and some that i dont.

for one, complaining about a lack of representation. ie, they’re all skinny, they’re all white etc.

to that i think there were a couple of reasons. one, she was looking at the submissions for the video the day of the tiktok ban. now i don’t know how it all went down but i’m assuming she probably wanted to reach out to more people but had trouble.

also! as much as i love boygenius and their solo stuff as poc, i’m aware that most of their fans are not poc. those concerts are white asf and that’s fine. but she can’t pull poc out of her ass. she was casting from her fan base. if it’s mostly white, that’s what you’re gonna get in the video.

and another complaint i saw a lot was that it was mostly people who were her friends or were influencers. ie, mattie, naomi, elio idk how to spell his name. and again, i think this was just cause of the tiktok ban, she probably saw mostly people who got the most views in that short window of time she was looking.

another thing i saw was that these people weren’t masc enough or butch enough. and to that i say, shut your mouth. these are real people. you can be frustrated with the way the casting ended up happening and you can recognize that it wasn’t a full view of the whole spectrum of mascs/ butches in the community but attacking the individual people she put in the video is wrong.

i also saw some people complaining that she had elio in the vid and hes a trans man. if he calls himself masc and he auditioned and she casted him that is between them, not us and them. being masc isn’t inherently lesbian. being butch is. if he called himself butch that would be a different story but he didnt.

i also saw people complaining about cara being in it. i personally don’t care for her, but who cares…? she may not be masc presenting in her public appearances but we don’t know her. so get over it…

i also saw people that it was only influencers and her friends in the vid… i get this one, but again. i blame the tiktok ban. we in america thought it was going to be gone gone for a while leading up and a good chunk of time as it was banned. yes that wasn’t the case but i do think she just picked people with the most views, ie, the influencers. i do wish she would’ve been upfront that it’s gonna be a bunch of her friends but whatever. (sorry if i’m repeating myself i have a lot of thoughts.)

i also keep seeing people in the community being rude to lucy and saying she’s just an annoying bisexual. she’s not bi i dont think. and she is quite publicly unlabeled or pan. you can recognize the very white view she has of the community and recognize that she could’ve been more diverse without mislabeling her or bringing up her label at all.

and idk, it’s also so baffling to me that both of these people are getting attacked for just existing but like, julien is dealing with real homophobia and lucy is dealing with very chronically online biphobic assholes. it just baffles me how no one is talking about the real and scary homophobia that julien is experiencing but i swear i’m seeing everyone and their mom jump to attack or defend lucy.

and another thing. i think the general lack of public support for julien is because she’s masc, everyone wants a masc or a butch until you actually have protect them. idk

i’m thinking to much and if none of this made sense i’m sorry.

[sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now]

mayhaps voice of the cheated for the ask game ?

(CHEATED MY BELOVED!!!!)

(Go my king, go ape sh!t)

FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEM

There’s a lot to like about this guy for me. Where to start…

I like how he’s the only voice that has the ability to unite the voices together towards a singular goal (aka Razor). The fact that he sees each of their assets as valuable and would hear them out despite it all is such an attractive trait for me. I also really really love how he ultimately just wants things to be fair and not have the cards stacked up against him. His anger is justified for me, since his appearance in his own starring route is where the Princess for some reason actually has a weapon when she really shouldn’t have. So of course he’s gonna be mad about it.

His anger is really relatable for me. Being placed in a situation where everything seems to be stacked against you does not seem fun at all, and I really get his feeling of how everything is going to end horribly despite him trying so gosh darn hard to get the victory that he desperately wants. But unfortunately, his sh!t luck doesn’t allow victory to be achieved. At least, not in a smooth sailing sort of way. He’s gonna get himself a few tears before that.

Also, I love how he swears like a sailor. He’s just like me fr.

LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEM

(This is out of love for him I promise 👉👈)

Probably how he sometimes let that anger and his feeling of being cheated over consumes him and clouds his judgment. Like how he is in Cage. Unlike in Thorn where he is able to emphasise with the Princess and realise that she’s as much as a victim as he is, in Cage he’s just a hater all and all. It came from a justifiable place, of course, but y’know. It is a very human flaw though. So I don’t really blame him.

FAVORITE LINE

“This whole thing is a crook of shit!!!”

Same Cheated. Same.

BROtp

Cheated and Contrarian is such a funny dynamic to me. Literally just funny jester man that does funny little shenanigans and the guy that gets constantly screwed over. They will say “fu@k the police” for completely different reasons, with Contrarian thinking it’s really fu@king funny while Cheated is just tired of their sh!t. Bonus if Oppy was added into the mix. Two guys with a hatred/dislike towards authority and the guy that would suck up to authority to secure himself in power. Cheated and Oppy at each other’s throats trying to out-trick the other and Contrarian is just there watching them like it’s some sort of thriller. Contrarian making fun of Oppy. They’re just so cartoonishly funny that they’re basically the trio(tm) that’s always there when sh!t gets down. The comedy potential is endless with these three.

He and Thorn would make for a good friendship too I think. Both as a ship thing or just a platonic thing. He would definitely get her, such as having your victory striped away just when you were about to get it within your reach. Thorn came from Witch, whose core is Soft Princess. So by stabbing her she would feel betrayed and so having her chance of freedom striped away from her by a blade that seem to drop out of nowhere (oh hey Sharp Princess—>Razor parallels). I’d like to think that they would hang out a lot.

This one may seem odd but, Cheated and Cold. Hear me out. They’re the only two that were able to kill the Princess successfully without her fighting back. But the difference lies in one of them being able to walk out, while the other doubted whether the Princess is dead or not. Both of them tried to fulfil their purpose in chapter one, one of them got the reward and ended up hating it, while the other was so close to getting their victory/reward just to have it striped away from them because they had doubted and listened to the doubts in their head. Their interactions in Wraith is golden, with Cheated bringing out Cold’s more spiteful side and Cold probably telling Cheated to still his thoughts and push on. They would be such haters. They would gossip to each other. Do you. Do you understand me.

OTP

Thanks to the fics written by @/writingdevil , I found myself really gravitate towards the pairing of Cheated and Broken.

Both were beaten down by the world, one responds with spite and have the desire to bite back while the other had learned to just take it in order to avoid more hurting. One would listen to what the others had to say and would seriously consider their opinions as something valuable while the other feels like they don’t deserve to be heard despite having the desire to be. Both are compassionate towards those that were beaten down by circumstances outside of their own control. And with that, they would find solace in each other.

(Also for my designs specifically their ship name would be PaperAngel. Just placed right atop the Christmas tree. Cheated probably folded that himself)

NOtp

I have none for this 👀

RANDOM HEADCANON

This relates a bit to my own design for him, but I imagine that he picked up on making origami. At first it was just to fix his body, but he had later found out that he actually really liked doing that, so you can sometimes see him taking a piece of paper(or anything foldable) and just folding it mindlessly.

Call him sentimental, but he actually found himself relating to paper quite a bit. Most pieces of paper were thrown away immediately after a few scribbles or when their short-lived purpose was finished. Paper was cheated from something better, and was usually thrown away after a singular use. Despite how fragile paper is, their cuts are really painful and annoying, as if they’re biting back on the mistreatment they’ve received. He would keep every piece of abandoned paper he could get his hand on and turn them into something else. (This could be a fanfic idea but I’m no writer)

I also imagine that he’s good with all sorts of weaponry. He’s damn good with a blade, but he’s also good with a bat, a bow, a gun, a machine gun, nuclear weaponry… y’know, the usual stuff. He may be one of the shortest and doesn’t have all of his limbs but he’s not gonna let that stop him.

UNPOPULAR OPINION

I honestly don’t think I have an unpopular opinion of him tbh. Well, considering how little content I’ve seen of him.

SONG I ASSOCIATE WITH THEM

None for this column either 😭😭😭

I can’t think of one for now at least

FAVOURITE PICTURE OF THEM

(Ignore the elf cold concepts at the tippy top)

(I feel like I should feel bad for him here but knowing his whole existence is to be screwed over is so funny to me. Like. That’s his purpose. What is he gonna do about that. Bro was clinically diagnosed with bad luck you can’t really change that)

[vintagebuckybarnes]

Soft Smiles, Hopeful Hearts

Pairing: College Student! Best Friend! Loki Laufeyson x College Student! GN! Reader

Total Wordcount: 1.4K

Summary: For years, you and Loki have been in love with one another, but neither of you has taken the first step to take your relationship to the next level. This won't stop Thor from trying to get either one of you to take that step. When you two go to the spring dance together, his dream of seeing you two get your happily ever after might finally come true.

Tags & Warnings: Canon divergence | No powers AU | College AU | College Student! Loki | College Student! Thor | Genderneutral! Reader | College Student! Reader | Meddling best friend/brother | Childhood best friends to lovers | Mutual pining

Story Rating: G | General

Author's Note: This is my first story, which includes Loki and Thor, so I hope you will enjoy it! It was a hoot to write this, and I'm looking forward to what you all think of this story 💜

Writing Prompts @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition: Dancing together @fandom-free-bingo Gingerbread Edition: Surprise kiss | Happily Ever After

Tag List: If you'd like to be tagged in my stories, you can find my tag list here.

My blog is for adults (18+) only, and most of its content is intended for mature audiences. Remember that you are responsible for your media consumption. If my content is not your cup of tea, feel free to navigate to blogs other than mine.

“I think you should ask them to go to the spring dance, Loki. You’re both head over heels in love with one another! And if you wait any longer, someone else might have asked before you. I’m not planning on seeing you sulk for weeks on end because you didn’t dare to ask Y/N to the dance,” Thor says, his thick Australian accent drifting through the library. He’s ‘studying’ with his brother, Loki, and some of their friends for an upcoming exam, but as usual, there’s more talking than studying happening.

“First- I’m not head over heels in love with anyone; I love them like a friend and nothing more-” Loki says, though the flush on his cheeks tells everyone something else entirely. You and Thor grew up next to one another, but when you were six, Odin and Frigga adopted a four-year-old Loki when his parents gave him up.

From that moment on, the three of you have been inseparable, and wherever one of you was, the other two were always close by. Over the years, the boys have grown rather protective of you, but while you and Thor have always remained friends, Loki has developed romantic feelings for you. However, he has never found the courage to admit this to you. What Loki doesn’t know is that you’re in love with him as well, and the only person who knows is Thor.

For years, he has been trying to get the two of you together, setting you two up on dates by first agreeing to go out with you both, then suddenly saying “something came up,” but to this day, nothing has happened. Despite this, he’s still trying to get his wish by seeing you two living Happily Ever After together, and he’ll try everything in his might to get his wish.

“And second, I don’t think I’m going to the dance. You and Y/N should go, though. They’ll love this year’s theme,” Loki says, his voice cracking a little at the thought of not going with you. His struggle to keep his emotions in check is evident, and he quickly bends himself over his textbook, which makes his raven black hair fall beside his face like a curtain.

“All I’m saying is that you’ll probably regret it if you don’t ask,” Thor shrugs before dropping the topic, instead moving on to the next College Football game this Saturday, as he is the team's quarterback. Loki has stopped listening for a while and is only snapped out of his thoughts when one of the chairs at the table moves back, only to be occupied by the most beautiful person he has ever seen: you.

“Hi! I hope it’s okay if I interrupt your studying, but I figured I’d bring you both some lunch,” you tell them with a chipper voice, making Loki’s heart swell with love and his mouth curl into a smile at the sight. You put down a brown bag in front of them, and Thor immediately rips it open to find a few meaty sandwiches, some with a plant-based spread, and some fruit and a black coffee on the side.

For Loki, you have made a salad with all his favorite toppings, with two apples and an iced coffee to go with it, and you’ve also put a little note in both of their lunches, just like you always do. It’s become a habit from when you were small because your mothers used to do it, and when all three of you moved into an apartment near the Campus, you started doing it as a joke, but now it is something they always look forward to.

“You never interrupt us,” Thor says in his rugged voice, and you smile at him before looking over at Loki as he reads his note. His eyes grow wide as they speed over the letters written in neat, dark green handwriting.

“Wait- Are you really asking me? Out of all people?” Loki asks, his tone unsure as he holds the note tightly in his hand. His heart races as he reads the words, “Loki, will you go to the Spring Dance with me?” and you nod enthusiastically. You and Thor have been talking about this moment for a few days, and eventually, he gave you the idea of slipping the question into his lunch with the note, which worked a charm.

“Well, I believe we should go and look at some outfits then because I’d love to go to the dance with you,” Loki says with a charming smile, his eyes sparkling with joy. You jump out of your chair to wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly in the process. His long, nimble fingers clutching your shirt as if he’s afraid that you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. The entire time, Thor is looking at you both with a massive grin on his face, pride beaming off him the entire time.

The night of the Spring Dance has arrived, and you’re putting the finishing touches on your outfit. Loki has opted for an emerald green suit with subtle gold accents, and his hair is styled in a bun with a few loose pieces in the front to frame his pale features. As you look in the mirror, you admire your all-black outfit paired with a simple necklace Loki has gifted you, a small emerald hanging on it. He gifted it to you when you graduated high school together with Thor, and you’ve always worn it on special occasions.

“Are you ready for the reveal?” you ask before walking out of your bedroom, where Loki promised to be waiting on the other side of the closed door. After a soft ‘yes,’ you open the door, revealing your outfit to him, and you can’t help but take an extra look at him, as the suit he is wearing appears to be sculpted by gods. As the man in front of you takes in the sight, it’s like love at first sight all over again, and he cannot get enough of how you look.

“Wow,” he whispers before extending his hand and bringing yours to his lips to kiss it softly. As soon as his soft lips are on your skin, you feel your heart nearly leaping out of your chest from the surprise kiss, and your cheeks start burning in excitement.

“You look amazing too, Loki. You always look stunning in this green color,” you tell him, and his cheeks turn bright red as he looks away, wanting to hide his flushed cheeks. You two are still holding hands the entire time, and it feels very natural when you fully intertwine your fingers with his.

Then, as soon as you’re ready to go, Thor is dressed in a classic tuxedo, and Jane Foster, his date, is dressed in a classic red gown. Loki orders an Uber for you all to share. You’re excited about finally going on a date with someone you’ve been crushing on for a few years. It took a lot of courage to ask him finally, but as soon as the confirmation left his lips, you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about that night.

The beginning of the night seems to go by in a blur as you’re spending it dancing, laughing, drinking, and having fun with Thor, Loki, and Jane. Then, the DJ starts a slow song, and Loki stretches his hand out again, silently asking for the two of you to dance together. A slight shock goes through your body when your hand touches his, and Loki smiles as he guides you to the dancefloor like a true gentleman.

“Are you enjoying yourself tonight?” he asks, his hands on your waist while yours are on his shoulders. You’ve rarely been this close to him, but you can’t get enough of the smell of his cologne and how his smile brightens his features each time he looks at you.

“I am, but it’s mostly thanks to you. It wouldn’t have been as fun without you here, Loki.”

Then, the one thing you’ve been dreaming about for a long time finally happens, and all you hear is the blood rushing in your ears and Thor screaming a loud ‘YES!’ as the two of you finally share your first kiss together. It has been long overdue, and it feels like perfection when you take your time to enjoy the moment. The moment feels like it’s over all too soon, but the smiles on your faces say it all: This is the beginning of your Happily Ever After, and you’re happy to be sharing it with Loki.

Navigation | Loki Laufeyson Library

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[bcystar]

— THIRD AMENDMENT

you exercise your right to deny soldiers housing

pairing: best friends!Bucky and Steve x best friend!reader

wc: 422

warnings: none, just our favorite super soldiers 🤞🏼

authors note: this idea has been radiating in my mind for like ever ngl 😛😛

The sound of laughter echoed from outside of your door as you stood at the other side with your phone at eye level. You giggled waiting for either Steve or Bucky to open the door. They’d received invitations to attend a gala to celebrate World War II veterans and were thrilled to attend. By the sounds of it, they had a good time. Finally, you heard the door knob twist open and you finally start recording. You were greeted with James’ bright face which then contorted to confusion at the sight of your camera. “Yankee Doodle” echoed throughout your foyer as you closed the door on their faces while wiggling your index finger at them.

Steve pushed his face against the glass door trying to see what you were doing. You took the opportunity to get a close up on his face on the glass, trying to keep your hand steady while giggling hard. The fifteen second audio finally ended and your giggles broke out into laughter. You saved the video to your drafts before cracking the door open slightly.

“Whatcha doing there, doll” Bucky asks with a slight smirk.

“Exercising my rights, Sergeant” you reply slyly

“Yeah well technically this is our home too, so it doesn’t really apply does it” Steve replies

“Whose name is on the lease, Captain?”

“Touché” Steve answers

After a beat, you finally open the door wide and they walk in.

“No seriously though, what was that?” Bucky asks as he takes his shoes off

“This one TikTok trend” You say making space for them to enter

“Basically, people will record their loved one’s coming back from enlistment and shut the door on them while the screen says something like “When my roommates try to come back home but I know my third amendment right” get it?”

You walk back to your couch only a few feet away and plop straight down. You sit down and open TikTok once more. The video plays and you can feel Bucky’s and Steve’s body heat from behind you as they watch along. You can hear their chuckles from behind at your antics.

“I like that, that’s funny” Steve chuckles out

“Let’s hope the internet does too” you say after captioning the video and posting it.

They laughed at this I promise 🤞🏼

comments—

tennesseeprincess- Personally I’d fold immediately if CAPTAIN AMERICA showed up at my door but wtvs 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

hrts444u- SMASH.

bannerslover- now who took my pants

dliflvr- doing that to Captain America and Bucky Barnes is crazy 💀

[deus-ex-mona]

when the confusion is r e a l

[yujateaandpi]

Hi guys! Yujatea here! If you enjoy my work, I’d like to please ask for a moment of your time to consider helping this family I’m supporting! Shaima is a mother of four children, Abdul Rahim, Walid, Majdi, and baby Amal. Shaima is struggling to support her children since her husband disappeared, and needs urgent help with providing food and resources for them, especially as winter sweeps through Gaza! This family’s fundraising campaign (@familgazaamal1) is completely vetted and I’m trying to use my platforms to raise awareness on their behalf. I’ll be opening my commissions to raise funds for their campaign so keep your eyes peeled! I’ll also post their fundraiser link in my highlights as well! Thanks guys! Let’s do our part to reclaim kindness and uplift each other!

Here's a message from the family:

In Gaza, where conflict looms over daily life, children’s dreams remain a ray of hope. Abdul Rahim, a young boy, dreams of becoming a famous artist, using his drawings to tell the world about the beauty of his homeland. Walid, on the other hand, dreams of playing football in a big stadium, representing his country despite the obstacles around him. Majdi, a cat lover, dreams of becoming a kind person and helping children. Majdi, who dreams of opening an animal shelter to care for animals in Gaza. Even in the midst of war, these children cling to their dreams, believing that one day, despite the difficulties, they will achieve their goals. Their dreams are not only about personal success, but also about shedding light on a world filled with darkness. These dreams symbolize the resilience of Gaza’s children, showing that hope and determination can survive even the most difficult circumstances.

In the heart of the ongoing war, Shaima lives with her four children, constantly struggling with pain and waiting. Her husband, who was once the source of security and happiness, left a long time ago, facing the challenges of war far from them. Every day, Shaima makes earnest efforts to keep life going despite the hardships. She strives to provide food and shelter while trying to instill hope in the hearts of her children, who are still waiting for their father’s return, a father they know little about other than his absence. Her four children, despite their young age, carry great hopes in their hearts. The eldest, who everyone sees as the "little father," dreams of their father returning to embrace them as he did in the past. The youngest, on the other hand, wakes up at night searching for his father's voice, wishing for his return to feel safe again. Shaima's dream is every mother’s dream in this war: for her husband to return safely so they can live together again in peace and security. She dreams of the days when her husband filled their home with joy, and she prays for the end of the war so their family can reunite once more. Yet, amid the destruction and tears, hope remains their strength. Shaima knows that her patience and resilience are what keep the family going. Despite the difficult days, she continues to resist, dreaming of the moment when her family will be whole again, with her husband and the father of her children back home.

[kavehayati]

Do I have to start saying not that anyone would care in that super duper passive aggressive way to guilt people into caring or what

[foldingfittedsheets]

I think something a lot of other people can relate to is the way that you get so conditioned to discomfort that you stop registering it.

I remember sitting at the table with my family, eating dinner as a child. I’d try to eat, because of course I was hungry. But sometimes the flavor or texture was so repugnant that it moved into a category of Not Food.

“Two more bites before you can leave the table.”

“I can’t,” I’d say, trying to explain the impossibility.

But because I was a child they heard, “I won’t,” and made me sit at the table. I’d sit in dull agonized silence, bored and hungry for hours until bedtime when they’d give up. I’d hate myself for not eating and my parents for forcing me to sit there. The few forcefeeding moments ended in vomit.

They’d say, “If you don’t eat this you can’t eat a snack later,” and I moved past trying to communicate my discomfort into accepting that I’d just be hungry.

That state of affairs didn’t last, because my parents realized nothing could force me to eat so they catered to my palate, worrying they’d starve me. But the message stuck. If you can’t do anything about a situation, just accept the suffering.

A few years later my mother called me off the playground to ask, “Are you limping?”

I shrugged. My feet had hurt for a long time, but that was just the way things were now. My mom pulled my socks and shoes off and gasped. The soles of my feet were covered in huge painful planters warts.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” She demanded but I could only shrug at her. I’d learned a long time ago that saying things about my discomfort didn’t matter, so now I had no words. Sometimes things hurt and sometimes they don’t. I simply accepted and did my best.

Now as an adult trying to learn to improve my own conditions can be hard. If I make food that I can’t eat I’ll force myself to sit at the counter still, full of guilt and self loathing, trying to will myself to eat it.

At first I needed my betrothed to gently take it away to present me with something I could eat. Now on my own I can usually admit that it’s not happening before too long and get something else, but I still feel guilty.

Laying in bed at night waiting for my betrothed to finish getting ready I let out a huge sigh of relief when they turned the lights off.

“Why didn’t you turn them off if they bothered you?” they asked the first time it happened.

“I didn’t even know it was bothering me until it was gone.”

Assessing my physical state now to see if I can improve it is something I’m still relearning but I’m relieved to finally have the space and support to do it.

[exopelagic]

dr who is a strange show