#i just like making fun of him out of love LMAO

[themultifanshipper]

Do you think you could do something like this

https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/759431110157631488/quiet-innocent-reader-x-lando-like-lando-finds

Maybe with Oscar ( love your writing)

If Oscar had to describe your sex life in one word : Vanilla.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that! God knows how much the two of you enjoyed the sex you had. You weren’t very experienced when you met Oscar, and you were quite a shy person.

Which is why Oscar was so shocked when he found what appeared to be a list of your kinks just sitting there when he got up to make his morning coffee.

Fun fact, this request was sent over a month ago, and i only have a couple more to do before i can get to my own stuff lmao

Warnings: innocent reader, Smut, PinV sex, rough sex, dirty talk, mention of lots of kinks n stuff

He hadn’t meant to get a glimpse into the inner workings of your sexual psyche, but really, who leaves something like that on the kitchen counter???

As he read it over and over again, his cock twitched in interest and got progressively harder until he put it down, the words seared onto his brain forever.

He tried to have a cold shower but just ended up jerking off furiously to completion imagining doing all the things from your list.

But as soon as he got out of the shower and dried off, he realized he was still achingly hard. He decided to put on a pair of his loosest joggers and go about his day while he waited for you to come back from work.

It wasn’t easy, but he managed to answer a whole two emails, internally debating the moral implications of communicating with his bosses while sporting an erection.

Then he jerked off again.

It did take the edge off for a bit, but every time he thought about it during the day he couldn’t help but fist his cock at the thought of all your filthy fantasies.

When you got home, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, and you did your usual routine: shower, skincare, dinner with a glass of wine, followed by watching something with Oscar, the two of you huddled up together on the couch.

That’s when you started noticing Oscar’s behaviour.

It was very subtle, but you could tell he wasn’t at all focused on the movie, periodically fidgeting around uncharacteristically. Oscar was usually very settled, and tonight it was like he couldn’t keep still for more than 30 seconds. You also noticed his breathing was irregular, often getting shallower as he fidgeted.

Oscar couldn’t care less about what was happening on the screen, his brain was focused on the same thing it had been all day, that damn list.

And he’d been hard all day, which certainly didn’t help his internal crisis.

“Oscar” you sighed, pausing the movie “Talk to me, tell me what’s going on with you tonight”

“Nothing’s wrong, why would there be something wrong?” his mouth said, but his flushed cheeks were proof that he was hiding something.

If looks could kill, the one you gave him would have certainly done the trick.

“I… full honesty?” he asked quietly.

You nodded “Full honesty”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “Okay, but you can’t get mad at me”

You narrowed your eyes at him “That’s not a promise I can make, but I’ll do my best”

He bit his lip before taking your hands in his.

“I uh… I found your list”

You just stared at him. “What list?”

“This one…” he took the piece of paper out of his pocket where it had been burning a metaphorical hole in his hip ever since he’d found it.

He handed it to you, but you didn’t need to unfold it to know what it was. I was a bright pink piece of paper that had been ripped out of your diary the night before.

You completely froze, panic overtaking you.

“Oh my god. Oscar…” You couldn’t look him in the eyes as you tried to explain “you weren’t meant to find that I’m so sorry! I was going to throw it away this morning and I guess I put it down and completely forgot about it. Fuck- please don’t think I’m weird or whatever and just forget about it, okay? Please?”

You put your head in your hands and whined in distress. This couldn’t be happening. Your loving boyfriend had just learned about your depraved fantasies, and he was never going to see you the same way again.

“I can’t forget about it baby, I spent the entire day jerking off about it”

You head snapped up to finally look into his eyes, your jaw hanging in disbelief. You could tell he was dead serious and your gaze slowly trailed downwards towards his pants, where you could tell he was hard, then back up to his face to find him biting his lip so hard it was turning white.

“you-  what?”

“Sweetheart, I got so hard when I read it, I almost got in my car to come and get you from work. I want to do every thing on that list with you” he leaned closer to you and whispered “Every. Single. Thing.”

His arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him, lips coming to brush against your neck. “especially number 3…”

You glanced at the list, seeing what he was referring to and gasped.

“Oscar!”

He chuckled into the crook of your neck.

“Who knew you were so dirty, hmm? Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“I- I didn’t know how to ask” you stuttered as he nipped at the skin of your shoulder.

“That right? Well ask me now, then” he said and you frowned in confusion.

“What?”

“Ask me. Go down the list, and ask me to do those things to you…”

His lips trailed down your body and his hands pushed you to lay down on the sofa as you spluttered in confusion. “I don’t- what?”

“What’s the first thing on the list?” he asked, he knew of course, but he needed to hear you say it.

You blushed, checking the list.

“Choking…”

“Then ask me to choke you”

You shuddered as his mouth continued downwards and his hands spread your legs, one of them pushing your flimsy pyjama shorts to the side to expose you to him.

“Oscar what-“

“I want to see how wet you get just from saying it, go on then.” He ordered and you keened as a finger dipped through your barely moist folds.

“I want you… to uhm” your blush deepened and Oscar smiled at you condescendingly.

“Go on baby, you can do it”

You gulped.

“I want you to choke me” you squeezed your eyes shut at the admission, but Oscar was having none of it.

“Now fucking look at me and ask me again”

You gasped and your eyes flew open to look at him.

“I want you to choke me!”

“Good girl” he stroked your thigh “Next thing?”

You glanced at the list still clutched tightly in you hands.

“Spanking.”

Oscar cocked his head to the side. “What about spanking?”

Your jaw clenched, the fucker knew how to get what he wanted.

“I want you to spank me”

He smiled and nodded for you to continue.

“I want you to fuck me over the balcony for everyone to see” you said, and Oscar’s pupils dilated as he used his fingers to spread you open for him.

“Yeah? Want everyone to see how fucking filthy you actually are?” You whined as his thumb came to dip inside you briefly before rubbing it in slow circles over your clit.

“I want you to degrade and praise me…”

He felt like he was barely holding on to his sanity at this point.

“That’s so hot, fuck.” He palmed himself through his sweats “You want to be my good girl yeah? Want to be my good little slut? Only thing you’re good for anyway…”

You whimpered, his words making your whole body heat up, and took a deep breath before continuing.

“I want you to fuck my mouth”

He had to grip himself through his pants to ground himself, your words having an enormous effect on his composure.

Where had his sweet little innocent girlfriend gone?

“I’ll fuck your mouth baby, make you fucking drool for it, god you’d look so pretty taking me down your throat”

You were definitely wet now, and he took the liberty of sliding a finger inside you and hooking it upwards just to watch you squirm as he rubbed that special spot inside you.

“I want you to tie me up and force me to take it” you said breathlessly.

The noise he let out at that was animalistic as his wide eyes found yours and his jaw went slack as he pulled his pants down just enough to get a hand around himself.

“You have no idea how hot you’d look all tied up and helpless under me baby, it’s making me so hard just thinking about it..”

You moaned as he added a second finger inside you.

“I want, fuck- I want you to use me, and fill me up with your cum whenever you want”

“Shit.” He hissed “Fuck baby, I’m going to fill you up so good, you'll see…”

“Please”

You hadn’t realised how close you were getting, but Oscar’s expert fingers were making you delirious as you continued.

“I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk, want to cry from how good you feel inside me, wanna beg for your cock”

Oscar growled and pulled his fingers out.

“Then beg”

He settled over you, putting his weight on you, his dick resting against your folds as he panted into your mouth.

“Beg for my cock, slut”

You were so fucking turned on. Dominant Oscar was something new, but so, so incredibly hot you would have done absolutely anything to have him inside you at that moment.

“Please, please Osc, I need it. I need your cock so bad, please!”

He growled and slid in to the hilt without warning, making you moan into the heated kiss he was currently giving you to distract you. He was thick and the stretch was delicious as his cock dragged along your walls, making you see stars.

He started a deep, hard pace and his hips slapped against yours, obscene sounds filling the room.

“Fuck baby, so fucking wet for me. This what you wanted all along? For me to fucking ruin you on my cock?”

“Yes, Oscar, fuck!”

He chuckled darkly.

“That’s a good girl, so fucking tight, You’re getting close aren’t you? I can sweet your sweet pussy clenching around me, trying to keep me inside...”

He gripped your hips harder and angled his thrusts upwards, nailing your g-spot, and you were a goner. White spots danced in your vision as the pleasure overcame you, cunt spasming around Oscar.

“Perfect, perfect cunt. And it’s all fucking mine” he growled as he finally spilled inside you, filling you to the brim and forcing a pathetic whimper out of you at the new feeling.

Oscar had never come inside you before, and it was insanely hot. The feeling of your slick, hot walls pulsing around him was pure heaven and he couldn’t wait to test everything on that list.

After you’d regained your breath, you chuckled silently to yourself while stroking Oscar's back.

If this is what you got for leaving your list out, maybe you should tell Oscar about your box of toys in the in the back of your closet…

[hkruu]

“ME & YOU?” — hkr

\\ soft yan streamer bf , mod!user , silly fic for y'all , obsessive , implied stalking in the past , implied doxxing //

Akira likes streaming with you.

You both started with meeting each other through an rpg game, agreeing to become his mod, becoming friends, and then meeting in real life and falling in love. It was a normal cliche love story about two gamers falling for each other in your point of view, what about Akira's point of view?

It remains a secret.

You always wondered how he knew all of your favorite things right off the bat, how he knew your awkward gestures, your hobbies and all of that. Maybe he was just really attentive to the things you did..

Akira wasn't a stalker.

He's sweet, he always takes care of you, putting your wants over his. Both of you communicate when something goes wrong, you balance everything. It was a perfect and a normal relationship.

At least that's what you thought.

hkruu: what r we playing today !!

Not_venti: wsg chattttttt

xX_AMI_Xx: r u playing with ur s/o?

yurisghs: hi akiraaaa [akira_pat]

fatgirlsummer: when's the continuation of Until Then ?? ^^

"Until Then? Uh, I mean, probably next week." Akira's eyes glanced over the chat box, watching as many viewers greeted him with good afternoons and nights. "My significant other?" He raised his right eyebrow curiously, reading aloud one of the questions.

"Honestly, I'm not sure if they'll be able to make it on time.." Akira leaned back on his gaming chair, stretching a little.

killlove_i: nauur why [akira_sob]

Not_venti: skibidi will make it on time trust.

tsukasaaaa: I hope they're well ><

cutiepie101: COOP PKEASE !!!

"I'm probably just gonna farm today, not unless Lisa invites me again." He smiles towards the camera, loading up HSR. "I'm not pulling for uh, rappa? The new character I mean, I forgot their name."

llyyyn: lol same

yurisghs: is she good? Ion look at leaks

Not_venti: I'm pulling:))

lamanbrug_01: goodluck to those pulling!!

sdkwohryuu: I want Sunday [akira_sob]

"I want Sunday too.. physically.." Akira pouts, eventually breaking into a silly smile. The rest of the stream going fine as usual, farming here, doing the new quest, companion quest, pulling for Fei Xaio, you know the rest.

A good hour and a half passes and suddenly there's a;

Ding!

"Hey chat, guess who's home!" Akira suddenly brightened, focusing on the game even more as he patiently waited for the same sentence he always heard every single day. Of course, he'd never get tired of it, never.

"I'm home!" A muffled voice could be heard in the background.

Not_venti: I TOKD U THEYD MAKE IT OJ TIME

xX_AMI_Xx: I js woke up whay happened

yurisghs: caught my lonely ass smiling

yumiwgeo: can't relate @yurisighs

Not_venti: LMAO

"You'll find someone yurisghs!" He snickered, quickly exiting out of HSR and logging onto Genshin instead, the familiar bright screen never failing to blind him.

nnsigma [MOD]: hi chat

Not_venti: hi skibidi

yurisghs: halooo

lynnuoo: wsg

yumiwgeo: [akira_wave]

tsukasaaaa: [akira_wave]

"sup babe, yes I ate, I drank water, I showered, I cooked lunch and I did the laundry." Akira's smirk was evident, quickly doing his commissions in-game. If you're wondering he mains Neuvilette.

nnsigma [MOD]: ok good [akira_pat]

nnsigma [MOD]: let's play dti instead ong

Not_venti: real

Guihimoo: [akira_nod]

"No."

About the said ‘Akira is probably just really attentive’ towards you.. let's expand a little bit on that.

The first time you met each other at a nearby Cafe, you were surprised. The pictures of Akira on discord didn't do justice to what he looks like in real life, this guy was walking around as if he just came out of a red carpet..

Aside from that, his personality was still the same as online. Teasing, snarky, he's still got that attitude, and of course playful — he was the fun type you'd want to be friends with. But, he really was your type.

You couldn't resist glancing towards his neck from time to time, hell — you couldn't even make eye contact without being mentally flustered. "Is something wrong?" He'd ask, but you'd immediately shake your head and go along with what he's saying.

I mean, Akira didn't know your address, why are you asking why he knew the way back to your home? He used to live here.

"W-woah.. we have more in common than I thought!" You beamed while Akira smiled softly, it looks like his hard work did pay off. All that late night searching, perfecting and practicing — it was worth it in the very end because you were finally here.

Akira could see you, touch you, feel you, make you feel things you've never felt — ah, how he wishes he could go back in time just to see your horrified expression when you almost got doxxed by someone anonymous.

Of course, he was the one to comfort you at the time, the way you opened up to him about everything, finally letting him know of your feelings.. It was worth every little thing he had worked hard for.

It didn't matter if he had a small or huge fan base what mattered was you being right beside him, experiencing hardships and hope. Akira could do anything, he could try his best — he's not perfect, he has many flaws he'll admit that.

But..

It was worth it if it was you.

Akira was glad that the world hasn't ended yet. Not that it would happen any time soon but — he'd want to be next to you even if it was a life or death situation.

Extras:

"I'm rating you 1 star for the effort. You suck." Akira tapped on the tablet aggressively, while you squirmed right next to him, trying to desperately get your phone case back on — fumbling quite badly.

"I'm rating you 1 star too!"

"You're just mad I'm a trend setter."

[inkblottzz]

grins mischievously and rubs my hands together like a fly

i think human ink would frequently get bored of his hair color and hair style, trying out lots of different things!! he would definitely forget to maintain the dyejob tho so his white roots get REALLY bad until he dyes it again LMAO

while his dads aren't japanese (zephyr is french and idrk about undertop), they enjoy ink showing them japanese culture and participating in traditions and such :-)

ink, since they're immortal, decided he would dedicate his freetime into learning a bunch of different cultures and languages! this always tends to surprise others, since ink's short-term memory is absolute garbage. nobody understands how he remembers EVERYTHING about EVERY culture 😭😭🙏 you CANNOT keep a secret from this mofo no matter what language you speak

i think they would keep a digital diary with a camera! he records important events/moments so they can always look back at them, since he forgets a lot. his camera is mostly filled up with memories with their dads 🫶

ink LOVESS to bake!! he enjoys trying out different recepies and pastries from all around the world, but his favorites are macarons. he enjoys cooking as well, but moreso appreciates baking because of the exact instructions/measurements. (he is autistic like me and needs clear instructions or he will combust real and true trust me on this)

he has WAY too many hobbies for a normal person to keep up with. flute, baking, drawing, painting, writing, dancing, crocheting, knitting, embroidery, singing, gardening, you NAME it. any form of art, they know how to do and are surprisingly good at it

ink struggles with keeping up with his own very very busy mind. they have so many projects he wants to execute, but can only push out a few at a time. he hates having unfinished projects, and will stick with something until the end—for better or for worse.

he loves to paint over his vitiligo spots, or just painting on himself in general. they think it's fun & interesting to see how the spots shift and change on his skin, never growing bored of them.

-> his spots shift whenever code for a new AU is created, soo it's never really consistent LOL

he loves all forms of music, but holds a special place in his heart for songs that include lots of different classic instrumentals, like violin. he loves artists like fish in a birdcage and sparkbird (yes im projecting and you can't stop me)

he sometimes will drink paint out of the blue in front of others just for their reactions. they are priceless to ink and ALWAYS make him crack up so bad.. and then he has to explain that "nonono my paint specifically is okay for me to drink guys im not gonna die dw" ☠️☠️

ANNDDD i should probably stop there.. this post is so long LMFAO 😭😭 honestly most of these are just my normal ink headcanons, human or not, so take these as you will 🗣️🗣️

[wannabehockeygf]

Good Graces | Conor Garland

"With your favorite athlete, Shoot his shot every night, Want you every second, Don't need other guys."

request: "I was thinking of a fluffy fic between him and a fem!team medic who he is good friends with because of how often he ends up getting hurt, putting himself in the middle of scrums and everything. I know that's kind of just a general premise, but I wanted to leave it up to you where you want to take it from there :)" summary: two times conor wanted to kiss you, and one time you kissed him.

word count: 5.3k

pairing: conor garland x fem!reader

warnings: blood & injury

notes:

hiiii welcome & thanks for requesting. hope I fulfilled your wishes!

i don't know much about garland but I love making players divas so I inserted that here lmao :3

keep requesting new & different players guys!! i love doing it.

You signed your contract for your job with one goal in mind–don’t fall for a hockey player.

Pretty easy, right? Especially since, as a team medic, you largely dealt with them all sweaty, bloody, and generally in a state of chaos. Not attractive at all. Definitely not. Yet here you are, hovering over him again.

Conor Garland, number 8 on the ice and, in your opinion, number one in "most likely to get into a fight over nothing." You fold your arms as he limps into the med room, wearing a ridiculous grin despite the cut above his eyebrow. “That bad, huh?” he teases, his voice holding that familiar playful edge. He’s pretending to wince as he climbs onto the exam table, like it’s a whole ordeal for him.

You roll your eyes, but you’re already reaching for the gauze, your hands moving on autopilot. “You know, if you stopped fighting for five seconds, you might actually get through a game without needing stitches.”

He chuckles softly, but the sound is laced with something else. It’s subtle, but it’s there—a little too relaxed, too content, considering he just came off the ice. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You look up at him, raising an eyebrow, but the sight of him smiling, like he’s enjoying himself a little too much for someone who’s supposed to be injured, throws you off. He’s been doing this a lot lately, showing up with bruises and cuts that could’ve been avoided. You’d never say it out loud, but part of you suspects he’s getting into these scrums on purpose.

His eyes flicker to yours, just for a moment, before he quickly looks away, feigning a deep interest in the ceiling. “What?” you ask, crossing your arms again.

“Nothing,” he says, far too quickly.

Right. Sure.

You press the gauze to his eyebrow a little harder than necessary, and he winces, though you can’t tell if it’s real pain or exaggerated for your benefit. You narrow your eyes. “Stop squirming.”

He gives a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Despite yourself, a smile tugs at your lips. There’s always this easy back-and-forth with him, like the two of you have fallen into some unspoken routine. You patch him up, and he finds new ways to annoy you, all with that same boyish grin on his face.

You finish dabbing at the cut, the soft pressure of the gauze soaking up the blood that’s already drying around the edges. As you work, the steady rhythm of your movements almost feels too comfortable, like this is the hundredth time you’ve patched him up—because, well, it probably is.

"Conor," you murmur, half to yourself, half in warning, as you reach for the antiseptic. His skin smells of sweat and ice, a mix that’s become weirdly familiar, like the scent of the rink itself but so uniquely him.

He tilts his head a little, trying to catch your eye, but you focus on the task at hand, avoiding the gaze you know is waiting for you. Your fingers brush against his temple, and for a split second, you swear you feel him tense up under your touch. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual casual grin.

“You gotta stop doing this,” you sigh, and it comes out softer than you intend. The antiseptic stings as you swipe it across the cut, and he flinches again, though not as much as he should.

“Doing what?” he asks, his voice low, almost playful. He’s watching you again, those brown eyes darkened by the fluorescent lights of the med room.

“This.” You gesture vaguely at his face, at the various bruises and cuts that seem to accumulate each time he steps onto the ice. “Getting into pointless fights. You think I don’t notice? You’re not even supposed to be a fighter, Conor. Half the time, you’re chirping at guys twice your size. Why?”

The silence between you stretches just long enough to make you uneasy. You feel the weight of his stare, the slight twitch of his mouth like he’s holding back from saying something.

He shrugs, but there’s a flicker of something else behind the movement, something unspoken. “Part of the game, right?” he offers, too nonchalant, like he’s testing the waters.

You don’t buy it, not for a second. But what are you supposed to say? Call him out directly? Admit you’ve noticed the way he lingers around the med room a little longer than necessary, how his smile stretches wider every time he manages to make you roll your eyes? It feels too much, too real, to acknowledge the way your heart stutters just a little when you hear his name over the PA system.

You sigh again, grabbing the butterfly stitches and nudging his chin up with more force than necessary. His skin is warm, too warm for someone who just came off the ice, and you have to focus hard not to notice the way his jaw clenches under your fingers.

“You’re gonna end up with a permanent scar if you keep this up,” you say, and there’s a softness in your voice now, one you can’t quite hide. The words come out before you can stop them. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, and the quiet stretches on again, filled only by the sound of your breath and the subtle scratch of fabric as he shifts on the exam table. Then, his voice cuts through the stillness, quiet but sure.

“I don’t mind it,” he says, and it takes you a second to register what he’s talking about.

You blink, pulling back slightly to look at him. He’s still smiling, but there’s something different in his expression now, something that catches you off guard. “What?”

“The scars,” he says, shrugging again, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I don’t mind them. Means I get to see you.”

Your heart does a ridiculous little flip at his words, and you curse it for betraying you so easily. You try to play it off with an eye roll, but you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “You could just... I don’t know, say hi like a normal person instead of getting into fights?”

He chuckles, but the sound is softer now, almost fond. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You press the final stitch into place, leaning back to assess your work. His face is still bruised, still battered, but somehow, he looks completely unbothered by it all. And the worst part? You can’t help but think he looks good like this, even with the mess of bruises and dried blood.

As you’re cleaning up, you feel his eyes on you again, watching with that same stupid grin, like this is all just some kind of game to him. But there’s something else in the way he’s sitting, the way he’s still lingering on the table long after you’ve finished patching him up.

“Are you just going to sit there?” you ask, pretending to be annoyed, though you know the act isn’t fooling anyone.

“Maybe.” He leans back, propping himself up on his elbows, looking far too comfortable for someone who was limping in here five minutes ago. “Depends. You gonna kick me out?”

You roll your eyes, but your chest tightens at the implication, your heart doing that traitorous little skip again. You turn around, crossing your arms, meeting his eyes this time. He’s sitting there, propped up on his elbows, looking at you like you’re the only thing in the room that matters. And maybe that’s what’s been throwing you off lately—the way he looks at you. Like these moments mean something more to him than just routine check-ups and bandages.

“Conor,” you say, and this time, your voice has more weight to it, though you can’t bring yourself to say what you’re really thinking. Instead, you gesture toward the door, trying to salvage the situation with a teasing edge. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Not really,” he shrugs, still not moving. “Besides, where else would I go? The ice isn’t as fun as this.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling, though it’s a losing battle. He’s always had this way of disarming you with a few words, like he knows exactly how to find that crack in your armor.

“Well, you can’t stay here,” you say, but there’s no real bite to your words, and you both know it.

He swings his legs off the table, wincing slightly—more from habit than pain, you suspect—and stands up, but he doesn’t head for the door. Instead, he lingers, too close now, and you find yourself staring at the small cut above his eyebrow, the one you just stitched up. Your fingers itch to brush it gently, to make sure you did it right, but you keep your hands firmly crossed in front of you.

“I think I’m fine now,” he says, his voice quieter than before. “Thanks, doc.”

The nickname always makes you smile, even when you don’t want it to. “You’re welcome,” you reply, but there’s a softness to your tone that wasn’t there a moment ago.

He takes a step closer, and the room suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker. For a second, neither of you says anything. His eyes search yours, like he’s trying to read something in your expression, something you’re not even sure you understand yourself. But whatever he’s looking for, he doesn’t find it—at least, not yet.

“I’ll try not to get into too much trouble next game,” he says with a smirk, though there’s a warmth behind it, something genuine. “But, you know, no promises.”

You shake your head, fighting the smile tugging at your lips. “Of course not.”

He starts toward the door but pauses just before stepping out, his hand resting lightly on the frame. He turns back to you, his eyes softening in a way that makes your chest ache a little.

“Hey,” he says, and there’s no teasing in his voice this time, just something real. “Thanks for always looking out for me.”

You nod, swallowing the lump that suddenly forms in your throat. “Just… try to keep yourself in one piece, okay?”

He grins again, that easy, boyish grin that somehow makes you forget for a second that he’s a professional athlete, bruised and battered from a game most people would never survive. “I’ll do my best,” he promises, but there’s something in his tone that makes you think he’ll be back sooner rather than later.

Another game, another set of bruises.

You’re halfway through patching up another player when you feel it—his presence, the familiar, teasing energy he brings with him. Conor walks into the med room, limping just a little too dramatically to be real. He’s cradling his arm like it’s hanging by a thread, his expression an exaggerated picture of pain.

“Doc, I think this might be the one that does me in,” he says, his voice a mockery of seriousness. The guy you’re helping, one of the newer players, snorts in response, shaking his head as he slides off the table.

You shoot Conor a glance over your shoulder. “I’ll be with you in a minute, Garland.”

The younger player leaves, chuckling under his breath, and suddenly it’s just you and Conor again. You can feel the shift in the air, like it always does when it’s just the two of you. The playful banter, the teasing looks, that undercurrent of something unspoken hanging between you like a thin thread.

You turn around, and there he is, still putting on that ridiculous act. He’s cradling his arm as if it’s broken, but the glint in his eye gives him away. “Oh, I’m sure you’re in agony,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Conor leans against the table with a dramatic sigh, giving you a pained look, as if he’s the one who should be annoyed by all this. “It’s bad, doc. Might need surgery.”

“Surgery, huh?” you quip, folding your arms as you walk over to him. Your eyes roam over his jersey, scanning for any real signs of injury, but all you see is his usual scruffy, disheveled mid-game self. “I can’t really check if you’ve got something serious going on with all that gear.”

He raises an eyebrow, still in character. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, keeping your tone casual, but there’s a hint of something else in your voice now. You tap his arm gently, feigning impatience. “Take off your jersey if you’re so hurt.”

For a split second, the playful energy between you shifts. His teasing smirk falters, his eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place, and suddenly, Conor’s posture straightens. The banter evaporates, leaving only the echo of your words hanging in the air. His hands hover near the hem of his jersey, clearly caught off guard by your request.

He stares at you like you’ve just asked him to do something much more intimate than you intended, and it takes a moment before he recovers his composure. “Uh… right. Yeah. Okay.”

You watch as he hesitates, tugging at the fabric, trying to hide the way his fingers fumble with it. And for once, he’s flustered—really flustered. It’s not the usual Conor Garland confidence or playful bravado. His face is flushed, the pink creeping up from his neck to his cheeks, and you can’t help but find the sight... oddly endearing.

You shouldn’t be enjoying this, but you are.

He finally manages to pull the jersey over his head, tossing it aside without meeting your eyes, and you catch the briefest glimpse of the toned muscles under his shoulder and chest pads, the faint sheen of sweat from the game still clinging to his skin. You swallow hard, trying not to let your mind wander too far as you force yourself to stay professional.

You step closer, eyes focused on the faint bruise blooming across his ribs, though it’s clear he’s milking the situation. “This?” you ask, pressing your fingers gently against his side. “You came in here for this?”

You stare at the bruise, your fingers resting lightly against his skin. It’s small, nothing serious—a faint discoloration, more from the impact than anything worth worrying about. But you both know this isn’t about the bruise. It never is with Conor.

You don’t pull away, and neither does he. There’s a moment of quiet, the banter fading into the background, leaving just the two of you in this strange, charged silence. You can feel the warmth of his body under your fingertips, the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. The tension in the room shifts, thickening like a storm cloud.

“You really thought this was worth all that drama?” you murmur, your voice soft now, not teasing, just… there. You trace the edge of the bruise absently, the pads of your fingers barely brushing against his skin.

Conor swallows, and you catch the movement of his throat, the way his eyes flicker down to where your hand rests on him before darting back to your face. His voice is quieter when he responds, less of that exaggerated confidence he usually carries with him. “Well, I figured… might as well get some attention while I’m at it, right?”

You don’t miss the way he says attention, how it lingers between the two of you, a little too close to the truth. Your heart skips, your pulse quickening in a way you hope he doesn’t notice.

But he’s staring at you now, the teasing smile faded, his brown eyes more serious than you’ve ever seen them. The air feels thick, almost suffocating, but in a way that’s not entirely unpleasant. Like something is about to happen, something you’ve both been tiptoeing around for too long.

Your hand is still on his side, your fingers barely moving, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the way he’s watching you like he’s waiting for something. Maybe you are too. The room feels impossibly small, the space between you shrinking with each breath.

“I… probably shouldn’t have made you take off your jersey,” you say, the words tumbling out before you can stop them, a weak attempt to break the tension, to say something, anything, that might diffuse whatever’s building between you. But even as you say it, you don’t pull away.

He doesn’t either.

“Nah,” he replies softly, his voice lower now, the usual playfulness gone. “It’s fine.”

You’re not sure if he means the jersey or the way your fingers are still pressed against his ribs, or maybe both. Either way, the tension doesn’t break. It only tightens, drawing you both closer without either of you moving an inch.

You can feel your pulse in your throat, your breathing shallow, and for a split second, you let your gaze drop to his lips. It’s a brief, unconscious movement, but it’s enough. He notices.

Conor shifts, barely perceptibly, but you feel it—the subtle lean, the way his eyes flicker to your mouth. Your heart pounds, the room spinning around the two of you like everything else has fallen away. You’re not even sure how you ended up here, this close, this vulnerable, but the pull is undeniable.

Your hand slides down slightly, resting at his waist now, and his breath hitches. You feel the tension in his muscles, the way his body seems to react to your touch, and for a second, you think maybe this is it. Maybe this is the moment you’ve both been avoiding for so long, the moment where everything changes.

His lips part, and your breath catches. You’re so close now, close enough to feel the heat of him, to see the soft curve of his mouth, to—

The door creaks open behind you, and the spell shatters.

You both freeze, the tension shattering as one of the assistant coaches pokes his head in. "Hey, Garland, you still in here?" The coach looks between the two of you, oblivious to what he just interrupted.

Conor jerks back so quickly it’s like he’s been caught doing something illegal, while your hand falls from him. His face flushes, but not from the game—this time, it’s from almost being caught in a moment he’s not ready to explain.

"Uh, yeah," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly flustered. "Just, uh... icing my bruise."

You bite back a laugh, feeling the heat rise to your own cheeks. The moment is gone, but the weight of it lingers in the air.

"Well, hurry it up. Coach wants to talk to you before you head out," the assistant says, already halfway out the door.

You both stand there for a second after the door shuts, the silence deafening. Conor looks at you, the tension still simmering under the surface, but neither of you speaks. It’s like the almost-kiss is still hanging between you, unfinished and waiting.

Finally, Conor clears his throat. "Guess I should... go."

"Yeah," you say, forcing a smile. "Guess so."

He hesitates, lingering in the doorway for a second longer than necessary, his eyes catching yours one last time. And then he’s gone, leaving you alone with the weight of what almost happened.

You’ve been replaying what happened in your head, the way his eyes lingered, the warmth of his skin under your touch, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you. It’s like a loop that you can’t quite break free from.

But now, that moment feels distant, swept away by the frenetic energy of another game night. Only this time, it’s different.

The door slams open.

You jump, turning on instinct, and what you see makes your heart plummet. Conor’s standing there, but he’s not limping theatrically this time. Blood runs down the side of his face, stark against his pale skin, dripping onto his jersey, which is streaked with snow and sweat. His eyes are wild, his chest heaving, and for the first time, there’s no playful glint, no teasing smirk. Just anger.

"Garland," you breathe, stepping toward him, already reaching for the gauze, but he doesn’t even seem to hear you. He’s pacing the length of the room like a caged animal, his jaw clenched so tightly you can see the muscles working beneath his skin.

"Stupid," he mutters under his breath, swiping a hand over his face, smearing the blood. "Stupid, stupid hit."

"Conor," you say softly, trying to get him to focus on you, to stop moving. He doesn’t. His eyes are unfocused, his movements erratic, as though he’s still stuck in the heat of the game, reliving whatever hit sent him flying into the boards.

You step closer, cautiously. "Hey, come on. You need to sit down. Let me look at that cut."

He finally stops pacing, but when his eyes meet yours, they’re blazing. "I don’t care about the damn cut," he snaps, though the anger in his voice isn’t directed at you. It’s frustration, bubbling just beneath the surface.

You swallow, trying to maintain your calm. "I know you don’t, but I do."

He blinks, his brows furrowing, like your words hit something in him, pulling him out of his angry haze. But then he shakes his head, as if he’s trying to brush it off. "They’re out to get me," he mutters, more to himself than to you, but you hear it.

Your chest tightens. You’ve seen him frustrated before, of course. Hockey’s a brutal game; it comes with the territory. But this… this feels different. Conor Garland is many things—annoying, playful, sometimes overly dramatic—but angry? Not like this. Not pacing the room with his hands curled into fists like he’s ready to punch the wall. You have to do something—anything—to bring him back to himself before he loses it completely.

"Conor, sit down," you say again, firmer this time. "Please."

Something in your voice must reach him because he stops, his shoulders slumping as if all the fight has gone out of him in an instant. He sits on the edge of the exam table, and you move quickly, grabbing the gauze and antiseptic. His eyes follow you, but they’re distant, like he’s not fully present.

You stand between his legs, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, and gently tilt his head back to get a better look at the cut. It’s deep, angrier than you expected, but not the worst you’ve seen. Still, the blood has matted his hair, trailing down his temple, and his breathing is shallow, labored.

"This might sting," you murmur, pressing the gauze to his forehead, dabbing at the blood. You try to stay focused, but you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves, his body coiled tight like he’s barely holding himself together. His hands grip the edge of the table, knuckles white.

"That guy…" he starts, voice low and bitter. "He didn’t have to hit me like that. It wasn’t even about the puck."

"I know," you say quietly, your fingers moving methodically as you clean the wound. "It’s not fair."

For a moment, neither of you says anything. You focus on your work, but every so often, your gaze flickers to his face, to the way his jaw is still clenched, to the way his chest still rises and falls with that uneven breath. You can feel the anger radiating off him, but there’s something else too—something vulnerable, hidden beneath all that frustration.

"Why are you letting this get to you?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Conor doesn’t answer right away. His gaze is fixed on some distant point over your shoulder, like he’s trying to hold it together, trying not to snap. But then his shoulders sag, and he drops his head into his hands. "I don’t know," he admits, voice muffled. "I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much."

You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling your heart ache for him. You’ve never seen him this rattled, this shaken. It’s unsettling, seeing him like this, and you don’t know what to do other than be here, right here, in this moment with him.

Gently, you reach out, resting a hand on his shoulder. His skin is warm, muscles tense beneath your fingers, but the contact seems to ground him. He lifts his head slowly, meeting your eyes for the first time since he walked in.

"It’s just… one hit," he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper now. "But I can’t shake it."

"It’s not just the hit, is it?" you ask, watching him carefully.

He exhales sharply, shaking his head. "No. It’s not."

For a moment, neither of you says anything. You finish bandaging his cut, your hands moving slowly, deliberately, trying to draw out the process because you’re not ready for this moment to end. You don’t want him to walk away like this, all pent-up frustration and unresolved tension.

He’s quiet now, his chest no longer heaving with anger, but his eyes—his eyes are still filled with something heavy, something you can’t quite place. He’s staring at you, and you can feel his gaze, warm and intent, as though he’s trying to find the right words but can’t. You’re not sure if you’re ready to hear them anyway. Your pulse thrums in your ears, loud and persistent, and for the first time, you realize how close you’re standing.

You clear your throat, suddenly aware of how his legs are framing your hips, how his knees brush your thighs every time either of you moves. His hands rest loosely on his lap now, no longer clenched into fists, but the tension hasn’t entirely dissipated. It’s just shifted into something else, something quieter but no less intense. You can feel it humming in the air between you.

"Conor," you begin, your voice coming out softer than you intended, barely more than a whisper. "You’re… it’s going to be okay." You know how inadequate the words sound, but you don’t know what else to say. You just want to fill the silence, to soothe whatever storm is still brewing inside him.

His eyes flicker, and his jaw works as though he’s chewing on something he can’t quite get out. "I’m not—" He stops himself, eyes dropping to the floor, and you watch as his shoulders slump again. "I don’t usually… I’m not like this."

You don’t respond immediately, just watch him, the way he avoids looking at you, the way his hands flex on his lap like he’s resisting the urge to reach for something. It’s strange seeing him so out of sorts, the guy who’s always cracking jokes, always looking for a way to make you laugh, now sitting here, raw and vulnerable in a way that makes your chest ache.

You take a breath and move closer, letting your fingers brush against his shoulder again. "You don’t have to explain anything to me. Everyone has bad days." Your voice is soft, reassuring, but your heart is pounding harder now, louder, as if it’s trying to force its way through your ribcage.

Conor looks up then, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His gaze isn’t wild anymore, but there’s something else in it, something that makes your breath catch. His lips part, and for a second, you’re sure he’s going to say something, something that will change everything.

But he hesitates, his throat working like the words are caught there, and suddenly you’re all too aware of the closeness, of the heat between you, of how your bodies are aligned. You don’t move, don’t dare to, because if you do, you might shatter whatever fragile balance you’ve found.

"I don’t know how to say this," he finally mutters, his voice rough and low, almost pained. His eyes flick down to your lips, just for a second, and your breath stutters.

Your heart is racing now, louder than before, and you can feel the room tilting, your pulse in your throat as the tension pulls taut. He’s so close, his face inches from yours, the scent of sweat and blood mingling in the air between you, and you realize with a jolt that this is it. This is the moment where everything shifts, where the teasing, the faked injuries, the lingering touches, all of it finally snaps into focus.

Conor shifts again, his knee pressing slightly against your thigh, and his voice drops even lower. "I’ve been trying to tell you, but I—" He stops, his eyes dark and searching, like he’s looking for something in your face. "You’re more than just… I mean, I’m always…"

You don’t let him finish. Because before you know it, you’re moving, and you’re pressing your lips to his.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if you’re both unsure. His lips are warm, and you can taste the faint tang of his blood on them, but you don’t care. For a moment, everything stills—no tension, no frustration, just him, here, with you. His hands, which had still been clenched on his lap, slide up to your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. The anger, the frustration that had been radiating off him moments before, melts away, replaced by something softer, something unspoken but understood.

When you finally pull back, your breath comes in short, uneven bursts. You meet his eyes, half-expecting him to pull away, to say something to ruin the moment, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans his forehead against yours, his fingers still gripping your waist, holding you there like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

“That’s one way to shut me up,” he mutters, his voice low, teasing, but there’s a softness there too, a warmth you haven’t heard from him before.

You can’t help but laugh softly, your heart still racing. “It worked, didn’t it?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just looks at you, his eyes darker now, softer. “You have no idea,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly against your hip, sending a shiver down your spine. His gaze flickers down to your lips, and for a moment, it feels like the world has narrowed to just the two of you, like nothing else exists outside this room.

For the first time all night, he smiles—really smiles—and it’s like the tension finally breaks. His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you even closer, and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right. The frustration, the anger, the game—it all fades away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in a moment that feels fragile but perfect, like you’ve found something you didn’t even know you were looking for.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, and his eyes soften, the vulnerability still there, but less jagged now, smoothed by your words. “But you need to go out there and win that fuckin’ game.”

“Okay,” He says, but leans in again, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, this one slower, gentler, as though he’s savoring it. When he pulls back, his thumb brushes your cheek, and his smile lingers, the tension from earlier now a distant memory. “But, we’re doing a lot more of this–” he gestures between the two of you, “Later.”

[strawberrygyuuuu]

𝐓𝐗𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 —> 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 6𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 —> 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂!

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 —> 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 —> 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜!𝐭𝐱𝐭 (𝐨𝐭5) 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

—> 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩.

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

I'm running off of hopes and dreams dudes

𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧

Older brother vibes

Definitely takes care of everyone but especially you

Yeonjun makes sure you're eating at least 2 meals a day even with a busy schedule

Very protective over you because you're the only girl and he knows you get awfully a lot of hate because of it

But he tries his best to make sure you know that you deserve to be apart of the team as much as the rest of them do

He pushes you to work harder, but because he wants you to be the best version of yourself

He's def clingy to you, but in an annoying way almost

Loves ruffling n messing your hair up, pinching your cheekies, sends you flying kisses across the room bc he thinks your reaction is funny n cute

He teased you a lot too but knows how to not cross the line

And if he does he'll be so regretful and apologetic like he'll do anything until you forgive him he feels SO bad 😭🙏🏻

Likes it when you cling to his arm, hug him or depend on him in general; especially if you prefer or like to be more independent

(or too stubborn to ask for help lolol)

Bro is all smiles n gladly helps you or takes care of you

Forehead kisses

Complains n whines when you try n kiss his forehead or cheek back in return or as a thank you but he doesn't mind it, finds it endearing, actually

Let's you rest ur head on his shoulder while sitting next to each other if he notices you're really tired or so ur neck won't get stiff

You guys are close and have a special bond

Definitely knows when to comfort you and when you're starting to have a hard time, and vise versa

Loves messing with you though like, pushing your buttons a little bit cause he thinks ur reactions are cute

𝐒𝐨𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧

I think he's also hard on you but only because he wants to prove that you can do just as much as the boys can do

Tries and make sure you don't feel like out

Because he knows that it might be difficult for you being in an all boys group and feeling left out since you're the only girl

But none the less he wouldn't want it any other way

He's fought hard to get you with them and so did you having to constantly prove yourself; youll always have too

He js couldn't be prouder of you tbh

Always comes to defend you

soobin feels safe with you and he knows he can tell you if he's struggling or if something is bothering him

youre the main reason he stopped doubting himself when he was new to being a leader

and he's forever grateful for you

When walking up stairs he takes his coat or blaze off and holds it up from being you to cover you up and protect you

Hates seeing you sad or upset so definitely tries to do anything to cheer you up or keep you happy !!

You prob bake sum with him sometimes in your guy's free time just for fun and bonding

𝐁𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐠𝐲𝐮

Your BSF cuh

Like y'all are always together almost

Most of the time if you wanna find one or the other yall are found together doin sum

The schedules together are much more fun with beomgyu although I have a feeling the staff aren't the most thrilled 💀🙏🏻

He's so annoying But it's also kind of endearing you can't help but not be TOO mad at him 🙄 Y'all are prob the most comfortable with each other and you've seen him cry the most and vise versa Idk y'all just feel the safest w e/o and understand one another really well You guys truly have a special bond / friendship The most chaotic and funniest duo amongst all the members

Like, being paired up for challenges is hell for everyone else bc of how chaotic you two bitches are LMAO They sometimes will BEG to switch but just for shits and giggles the staff refuse to change the pairing bc it's funny n entertaining

He's def the one to act so brother like towards you

Like, he'll always come up to you and start punching you or sum but not enough to touch you just really close, but he's never actually touched you or hurt you

Idk dude it's js a brother thing apparently

Y'all are so sibling coded lol Rather you're older or younger, I think he'll still act like either an annoying little brother who admires his older sister or the annoying yet very caring (a little protective?) older brother with his little sister

Eats food with you all the time

There's been far too many times where he's made you starve and wait while he got his food js so y'all could eat together

Sorry pooks you gotta wait to eat, get used to it

It's also js y'all's love language, especially bg's

Def partners n crime, y'all need each other to fight crime !! ( Y'all share one brain cell while together trust you need to be together to function and be smarter, kinda)

For sure tag team yeonjun just to annoy him and get a good laugh at it lol y'all are unstoppable!! 𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧

You're prob a little older then him

He admires you, a lot

He thinks the things you do are cute and he js adores you

He's such a Sweetheart to you😭

He's very understanding and relies on you a little more then it might seem

Likes it when you give him affection the most out of all the boys

He has a little soft spot for you

Gives you cute little pecks and kisses on your cheek sometimes because he just adores you🥺😭

Will defend your name in public and correct you in private 𝐇𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐚𝐢

Also admires you a lot

Like he really looks up to you even if you're younger or older

If he sees you face a fear of yours he'll be so proud of you but also it'll help him have strength as well

Y'all are always doing pranks or up to some kind of mischief together

Y'all spoil each other

Although you probably buy food for him most of the time while he'll buy you food on special occasions

Y'all are gumz

Always touchy and clinging

Seen back hugging each other a lottttt

Very playful with each other too, just cute banter

You guys are also seen giving each other belly rubs a lot especially after a meal like maybe bts to do episode you'll just see Kai n you rubbing each other's bellys in the background hiding in a corner

Moas think it's the cutest but so do the members, they love teasing sometimes, "aigoo, what will we do with these two cute gumz?" Yeonjun says fondly lol

You n him learn kep1er dances together and other gg it's so fun w him

Soobin joins you guys sometimes as well

Y'all support and comfort each other when needed though

Always have an eye out for you and always tries to cheer you up when you need it most, even if it's acting a fool or embarrassing himself lol.

Bonus

They were all definitely forced into learning the whole choreography of magnetic by illit because you begged them, they couldn't say no to you LMAO😭

A/N I've had this is my drafts for far tooooo long and I figured to js post this to get sum out cause I have zero motivation.

[sevilynne]

bro was literally "grieving" for like 16 years and abused her child and every other student in his damn class

you're fuckin mental

Anon, we're all adults here, no need to hide.

And yet we don't talk about how other professors did to children, I don't see you talking about Minerva doing more horrible things to Neville hmmm....

Point: It's normal in the Wizarding World to torment children, we don't comment on stuff like:

— Minerva leaving Neville out of the common room when there's a mass murderer outside.

— Minerva trying to humiliate Neville that he will never transfigure a teapot.

— Hagrid disfiguring and making fun of a kid's appearance.

— Pince hexing Ginny and Harry's things.

— And Mr. Stutter.

Minerva has favourites just like Severus and it's actually worse.

— Bending the 'First Years Aren't Allowed Having Their Own Broomsticks' rule for Harry.

— Sending Harry and the trio to Hagrid (Oh she knew OP, if Neville did that, Neville would serve detention with her.)

"Why are you bending this thing to Minerva?"

Because you are making excuses to hate on Severus, and never care about the fucked up shit that Minerva did (Because you're a fucked up shit too.)

And why not blame Dumbledore for hiring shitty staff lmao? This is completely normal for them and I'm not happy about it but I'm living.

And Neville was a sensitive child, Remus's fear isn't the literal moon, so is Ron having his boggart as a literal spider, Parvati having a mummy, and Seamus with a banshee. Neville can't have fears from Barty or Bellatrix because he never received them himself. Yet I don't see you commenting on them, hmmmm?

Yes, he was grieving for several years because his life is so fucked up no one loved him but her. And Lily was a horrible friend who laughed at him while he was being SA'd and defended his tormentors.

"He didn't wear trousers." It's literal culture in the Wizarding World not to wear trousers, James knew what he was doing and he wasn't probably even wearing trousers either.

Grieving is completely normal, it's like losing your sister who loved and took care of you, and I don't see you commenting on Sirius grieving James for twelve years and would've grieved more if he was alive.

Lastly, he's a fictional arse character ☠️ I can like anyone just like how Mstans can like the Marauders. :P

I feel so bad for the innocent Mstans who has done nothing wrong to be included into your mental help club of 1970s gay wizards.

Sure he bullied kids, but compared to other professors who never been abused and act the complete same as him? He's better ngl.

And the grieving one? Have you never grieved or are you emotionless? ☠️

[meeludrawz]

Aquapark HCS - MHA Boys x Reader

A/N: I dreamed about going to the aquapark last night and got these ideas lmao Bakugo, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks, Shinsou, Deku

KATSUKI BAKUGO

Doesn't really like swimming but will go with you if you ask

DOESN'T want to lose you in the crowd so he follows you around like a puppy

He wants to try something that you don't want? Like those horrifyingly huge slides? He'll tell you EXACTLY where he's going and will want you to do the same but he knows he can't stop you if you get distracted so he won't leave your side often

He really doesn't want to lose you in a huge place like this, what would he do without you?

You know that calm river with donuts? You both hold hands and you both have fun pushing your donuts under the small waterfalls along the way

He also likes the wave pool

You two are holding hands the whole day and he helps you dry your hair in the hotel room

If you ask him, he might invest in a pool for your house

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

He doesn't like water but he'll go because you asked

He doesn't know how to swim, but again, he'll go because you asked

You want to teach him, of course, but he doesn't want to when there's tons of people

Shigaraki's considering to break in a pool in the middle of the night just so you can teach him and just so he can spend more time with you

If the Aquapark is indoors, he's fine. If outdoors, pour tons of sunscreen on him, because he's white af and u don't want him as red as a lobster

He loves the calm river with donuts, because he doesn't have to swim

Shiggy also loves the slides that has donuts

Back at the hotel, he's worn out and he flops on the bed, almost instantly asleep but he will fight the sleep demon as long as you're not in bed with him

Oh and also, you two helped each other to dry your hair <3

DABI - TOUYA TODOROKI (Quirkless au tho because he prob can't get in the water with those scars :((( )

He hates those places

Too much people, too much voices, too loud

But he'll go anyways because ain't no way you're going alone

He chills on the lounge chairs the whole time

Watching you like a proud boyfriend and making sure u don't drown either lol

Sometimes he'll chill sitting in the water or getting to ankle deep

He's not going farther even if u beg him to

He also likes the calm donut river, except those waterfall areas where he'll hop off his donut and walk away from those, yes, even if the water is waist deep

Back at the hotel, he helps you dry your hair

He also watches tv all night while you sleep against him <33

HAWKS - KEIGO TAKAMI

He LOVES THOSE!!

As soon as you asked to go to a waterpark, he already reserved tickets

The only annoying part is that he has to leave all his feathers in a bag in the hotel room, he doesn't want to accidentally smack someone with those lol

He tries everything, slides, wave pool, donut river, EVERYTHING

He's like an overexcited puppy!!

He'll buy those funky bottles that look like zigzags

He'll buy towels as a souvenir

Fans will often stop him for selfies and signatures but he'd refuse some, not everyone, so people don't bother you or him too much

Back at the hotel, you help him dry his hair, he loves it when you play with his hair

HITOSHI SHINSOU

He doesn't really mind these places but sometimes people are too loud for him

He spends the whole day following you around but whenever you part ways, he trusts you and knows you'll find him or that he will

Had to tie his hair because he can't see shit with his hair on his face

Doesn't like having his hair tied but you told him that he looked great and he internally screamed

This boi also needs lotta sunscreen

You guys got selfies that you sent to his dad, Aizawa

You're both thinking about bringing his family, Aizawa, Mic and Eri next time

He got takeouts to end the day and u both fell asleep watching tv

DEKU - IZUKU MIDORIYA

Everything he brought with him for this outing had All Might on it, his towel, his backpack, his sunscreen, his swimsuit shorts, water bottle, EVERYTHING

He was embarrassed by it but hey you love him don't ya? You didn't care

He bought more all might stuff by the end of the day dw

He's kinda scared of the slides so he didn't go but he cheered for you

Someone tried to hit on you

Deku wasn't happy with this

He told them nicely to "Fuck off", yes he said those two words

You were shook, since when did he swear

He said he might or might not have learned from Kacchan, which made sense

You often had to run to him because his hair was hiding his eyes and you helped him, you both often laughed about this

At the end of the day, you both fell asleep against each other after Deku called his mom and All Might, they get worried, of course

[ladyisabelsblade]

My Live Reactions to X-Men Origins: Wolverine

A text thread between me and my friend.

---

Just watched the opening sequence and it’s so fucking funny when you’re high

Dude that guy with the two guns, his sequence kind of slapped

And then the other guy punched a tank. Yo….

This Deadpool looks like an idiot with the swords but he’s still pretty funny lol

Why does he know Swahili?????

Oh no! They’re colonizers!!???

But not Wolverine, he cares about black people, that’s how you can tell he’s the good guy

Little brother, breaking cycles of abuse

JIMMY

--wolverine says racism is wrong! --have u seen his cartoon claws yet?

They didn’t look that bad but I am high so I don’t care

The action sequences aren’t half as bad as in last stand

Or at least I’m too high to notice if they are lol

WOAH SGIRT OFF

--u see a lot of hugh jackman nipples

Lumberjack Wolverine, wow

Just wow he’s wow

"Your country needs you” “I’m Canadian”

Aw, I like this girl. She’s so gonna die

What the fuck is this stupid story?

Even Logan thinks it’s stupid.

Most clumsily overt foreshadowing ever

Oop, yep she dying

--lmao --yea she lasts under 10 mins thats hilarious

Damn fucking eviscerated

Manly man scream

He ruthless

LMFAOOOO AND THEN HE GETS HIT BY A TRUCK

--relatable tbh

He’s so oiled up

Damn the dramatic irony is dramatic irony-ing

The Adamantium looks like the aftermath of a lush bath bomb

--ooooh ur not at the cartoon claws yet --he’s still all boney

Yee

LMAOOOO THEY LOOK PLASTIC

HIS ASS OUT

--ASS ASS ASS

Cover up your tits you preening slut precursor

They look so stupid just do practical effects you idiots

YES THE JACKET

WHAAAAATTTT HOW COULD YOU KILL THAT OLD LADY WTF

I should have seen that coming

EXPLOSIONS SLAY QUEEN

--who exploded things?

Everyone but Logan exploding the helicopter was slay queen

--lol this movie is such a blur for me, i love reexperiencing in real time

Oh this is the bad part

Fucking blob omg

--ah yes --and will i am

I like will I am he ain’t bad

And boxer Logan, boxer Logan is saving this scene for me

--idr him good or bad, i just remember he's will i am

He is

I laughed so hard when his name came up during the opening credits

--its a great jumpscare

Local man discovers his girlfriend was fridged for his character development

REMY LA BOU

OH NO HES HOT

--is this the first time uv seen gambit in something? like have u seen him in the cartoons or stuff?

and poker? This is like combining every old lady white woman’s wet dream together: lumberjack, boxer, poker player

No I’ve never seen the cartoons man

--by far the most loved x-man

GRABBED HIM BY THE SPINE WHAT THE DUCK

gambit slays here dude

Will I am dead

--u have the best one liners omg

I’m over an hour in and I’m really enjoying this movie, being high is really elevating my experience

--its probably greaat high ngl

It’s just like fun moment after fun moment, I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense

--its my dad's favorite hated movie --its so fun

He’s right, I can’t believe you told me this was worse than last stand

--idr last stand at all ngl

Oh, well it was really bad

My man is more okay with jumping out of a plane than flying in one

SCOTT

YOUR EYES SCOTT

sir this is an operating room you can’t be here

Damn, this is freaky, I thought Stryker was a creep in x2

KAYLAS BACK

WHAT THE FUCK

oh it’s mystique isn’t it

NO ITS NOT WHAT THE FUCK

Damn that’s cold

No, poor baby he’s so sad

They were together for 6 years damn

Yo this is so dope

This fight

--have u gotten to deadpool

Kayla, now is not the time

Not yet

--thats THE thing

I know

But here he comes

HE LOOKS SO STUPID

XAVIER MY MAN

Yo the black around the eyes thing kind of slayed tho

Damn fucking sliced his head off

Oh shit damn

Do they look out for eachother because you kind of suck ass victor

YESSSSS GAMBIT

Kayla come on don’t die

Again

HOLY SHIT STRYJER

AYO WHAT THE FUCK

girl this movies good I don’t know what you’re talking about

That was so slay Kayla

But you’re still probably dying

PROFESSOR

I LOVE YOU EVEN THIUGH YOURE BADLY CGIED

LNAO THE MUTANTS RUNNING AWAY

he don’t even remember her that’s so fucking sad dude

damn wtf tear my heart out why don’t ya

This movies cheesy but it’s hitting all the right beats

Like this is a pretty good origin story movie

Probably a horrible stand alone movie, but if I pretend like I’m watching a bunch of flashbacks stitched together it’s pretty good

Oooo two post credits scenes

LMAO TEASING A DEADPOOL COMEBAJX BUT HE NEVER DOES

--he kiinda does

In Deadpool 2?

--yea lol

Comes back just to die

--good

lol he wasn’t too bad but I think I’d have a different opinion if he was sober and there weren’t already two other great Deadpool movies

[hasello]

Hi, Hey wanted to talk about that other post about rise leo being a good leader, and my opinion I think that's a total lie. I barely finished the show and through all of it I haven't see him as a leader but as a total amateur. He isn't the leader in this version, only in the movie, not even there he did any good desicion, he only threw himself in the flames. I more of 2012 version, and you can totally compare him. 2012 leo learn from his mistakes and knows how to work with his team, he worries about his brothers; while the rise leo doesn't care if he puts them in danger, never works in team, and rather worries in having fun.

But all said, I want to hear more from you, your opinion, and to know who you think is best. I noticed that you have way more knowledge about the TMNT.

Stay hydrated ❤

Hi! Your opinion is totally valid, since everyone interprets things in their own way. I mostly disagree, tho.

First of all, like you said - Leo wasn’t the leader in the Rise show, nor was he the oldest. So of course it didn’t feel like it, that’s totally fair. ALTHOUGH: Once he did become the leader, I do agree he wasn’t the best at it… but then that’s kind of the whole point! It’s to show he’s not really ready and has A LOT to learn. Don’t know about you, but I love that idea. It brings depth to the whole „leader” plot. I think a lot of it is caused by the fact that he’s the only Leonardo who isn’t the oldest. The show lets him be more carefree and not really understand some morbid things, that oldest siblings keep in mind. Other Leos are the oldest and keep in mind the team’s safety, which sometimes makes them seen as „boring” by their siblings. Rise Leo is the complete opposite of „boring”. That’s Raph’s job in rise. On top of that other Leos were leaders for much longer and gathered experience. So I think comparing Rise Leo to other shows is a little unfair anyway, because their situations are way different.

Although apart from all that - Leo is VERY good at planning and his personality lets him be sneaky and manipulative, which also helps in a lot of circumstances. When the gang needs to get information, they send Leo. When they need some encouragement, Leo steps in. When they lost Raph in the sewers? Leo was the only one taking it seriously. When they got upset at losing the paper thieves? Leo did a nice speech, at least trying to keep the team in high spirits (which also showed how observant he is, as he knew what to say to each brother). When his brothers blindly believed Big Mama? He saved the day, knowing better from the start. (He was the only one being cautious, thinking of their safety).

You can see the little hints of potential in a lot of episodes. Personally I believe he’s a natural leader, he just needs to sort his priorities and learn about responsibility (which already happened in the movie, bro learned the hard way lmao).

I think that if the show didn’t end so soon, it would have been a lot more fleshed out and showed better. It’s pretty obvious it was their plan from the start to turn him into a leader at some point. Although like I said, opinions are just opinions.

You too stay hydrated! Take care, love 😚

[canongf]

Ooooh Eddie loves you sooooo much. He told me himself >:3 —Nic

(said while giggling and twirling my hair around my finger) that man is always running his mouth to whoever will listen

[bacchuschucklefuck]

okay unironically I love so much that porter is like this world SUCKS its BAD here and it HURTS you why do you care abt it!!! and literally every single bad kid is like ngl we just hate ur ass it does not matter what ur philosophy is

[mamawasatesttube]

when people act like the only problems kon ever has are a) tim dating bernard and b) lex luthor

[oceans-beloved]

Meme dump yayyy🥳✨️

(off to make more now muhahaha >:3)

[skitskatdacat63]

Roleswap anyone??

Tell me Fernando wouldn't make a fantastic general/emperor, and that Napoleon wouldn't make a fanastic driver/tp!!

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID: a digital drawing of Hunter and Willow from the owl house based on the "lesbians doing makeup" meme. Hunter is lying beneath Willow, who straddles him while doing his makeup. He looks at her somewhat dazed and she looks at him fondly. the background is a mid-tone blue. End ID]

This is what they are. To me

[puppetmaster13u]

I wasn't going to do any designs for when the robins were older yet but I was sleep deprived and just started sketching, so have a Red Hood.

Au belongs to @phoenixcatch7 and you need to check them out <3