#i likey this brush a lot too

[the-phantom-peach]

“ayyy itz da wind waykah!” 💨🌊

[harrygoeswest]

Lazy Days

Featuring fiance!Harry, nail painting, bath smut, and general soppy shit.

Trigger warnings: [if there was a 6th Spice Girl she would've been called] soft spice

Word Count: 3,870

A/N: Hiyaaaa. Ages ago (and I really do mean like actual years ago, on a blog long since forgotten) I posted on here a head cannon of all the things I think Harry does during his down time. This is basically just that, but in fic version. Hope you likey like!

~~~

It’s the shifting of weight on the mattress that stirs you from slumber; the sudden absence of warmth from another body at your back; the whisper of fingertips over your hips and thighs. Still, your body is too tired, your limbs too sore to stay conscious for long, and once the rustle of sheets and padding of feet against the hardwood dissipates, you fall back into the darkness of sleep.

Not too long later, you’re awoken again—the click of a door, the soft clunk of clay on wood. Between sponged kisses up your spine where you lay on your front, you catch a whiff of coffee. You smile to yourself.

Those same fingers from before trace the curve of your sides, those lips now pressed lovingly against the nape of your neck. As tentative fingers make way for strong, capable, safe hands, a satisfied sigh leaves you. You’re gently tugged back into the solid embrace of your lover, his front to your back, skin to skin. His arms are a blockade, arresting you into submission.

“Good morning,” Harry practically slurs, his lips brushing and breath tickling your ear.

Melting against him, your response is a croaked, “Hi.”

That plush mouth of his ghosts across your shoulder and back to your neck in slow, tantric lines. While one hand—one arm—remains firmly in place to keep your body gripped to his, the other travels to his favourite places. He starts with small, spiralling circles on your hip, before migrating to the soft swell of your stomach, following the scars of stretch marks on your thighs. You can feel his barred hand testing the weight of your boob, a light-pressured knead.

A satisfied, breathy moan leaves you, and Harry’s grip tightens.

“When was the last time we did this?” he asks, still massaging your breast.

“Did what?” You barely open your mouth to speak.

“Just…nothing? Slept in? Cuddled?”

You grunt, thoughtful. You can’t remember. ���Too long.”

His hum sounds like an agreement. “Shall we just…stay in today?”

You idly skim your fingers along his forearm. “Can you manage to sit still for that long?”

He pinches your waist, and you yelp. “I can for you.”

A fizzy kind of happiness begins to bubble its way through you. He achieves this feeling a lot, with his words. His actions. Sometimes just his face. He’s so handsome.

“Deal,” you finally agree.

You drift in and out of consciousness as Harry’s mouth and fingers map your body. He mumbles in your ear in gentle pries for attention, sometimes compliments and verbal loving. Subtle affections. And it’s also contemplation—what are you going to do with your day off together?—or future planning—do you sit your mean uncle next to his problematic third cousin at the wedding just to see who makes a scene first?

You elbow him for that one, even though he makes you laugh with his boyish mischief.

Sunlight filters in through the bedroom blinds, and even though it’s cold outside, it warms your skin where it touches. Harry notices the same thing you do—the way your engagement ring glints off the light—because his hand finds yours, particularly that one finger with his ring on it, and starts toying with it.

Saying yes was the easiest decision you’ve ever made, and for some reason, Harry struggles to believe it sometimes. Why he ever thought you’d say no is beyond you.

In the quiet room, the endless band recedes as the focal point of your attention while his hands continue to caress and travel around the plains of your body. You simply let him, snuggling back into his embrace, holding his arms around you so he doesn’t let you go.

Before long you feel the sensation of want growing, pooling between your legs. It appears much the same for Harry, whose length has stiffened at your back. With a slight adjustment you let it slip between your thighs, sliding against your bare pussy. You release equally tortured groans, his face shoving into your neck, his tongue tasting and his lips sponging kisses there.

You reach behind you, pushing your fingers through his hair and gripping, keeping him pressed to you as closely as possible. His mouth finds yours, tongue eager as it slips between your lips. The kiss is anything but innocent, and it causes the friction between your legs to heighten.

“Find a condom, H,” you beg breathily.

His presence slinks away, only briefly, and you turn over your shoulder to watch him clumsily searching for a foil packet in the drawer of his bedside table. Producing one, he gets to work.

Once he’s rolled it on he’s back with you, arms returning around your middle and his length squeezing through the space between your thighs. He lifts your leg up by the back of your thigh, and his cock sinks into the heat of your wet pussy.

“Fuck yeah,” he mumbles, nibbling his way down your shoulder, “y’always feel so fucking good.”

“So do you,” you huff out, as your body adjusts to the feel of him.

It starts slow, calm. All of your recent intimate moments have been rushed and sloppy because you’re hardly ever home at the same time and you’re too exhausted to do anything. But this…this feels like the opposite.

Harry takes his time. He keeps your leg aloft while he moves in and out of you, talking in your ear with his favoured phrases.

“Can we move?” you ask after so long. “My leg’s starting to cramp.”

“Sure.” He slows down and pulls out of you. “How d’you want it?”

Throwing him a devilish smile, you roll onto your front and lift your ass in the air.

Harry chuckles. He takes a firm grip on one of your round ass cheeks, squeezing and pinching, before landing a swift smack to that same place.

You groan, arching further into the mattress.

His dick sneaks back inside of you and he takes your hips in his hands. His thrusting starts off measured, timed to perfection to build the ache inside you. His cock really does feel sensational, the way it stretches your inner walls, filling you up. 

“That feel good?” 

“So fucking good,” you assure him. “But I need it faster, baby.”

“How fast?”

“Just…faster than this. It’s nice and all, but I like it when you’re a bit messy.”

“Funny, you never say that when I’m drunk.”

Drunk Harry trying to have sex is…an experience. And not necessarily in a good way.

“I want to feel my backside jiggling, and that ain’t happening at this pace.”

He smacks your ass again, his palm immediately soothing the sting. “I can do that.”

And boy does he deliver. With his hands back on your waist he pistons his hips with vigour. It feels sensational. Your body comes alive as every thrust reaches a deeper, more pleasurable place.

“Fuck, Harry, yes.”

He loves that—the praise you give him. Turns him on and builds him up. He gets faster, sloppier. He becomes uncoordinated, jostling your body forwards, backwards.

You reach under the pillows, fisting the sheets and the corner of the mattress, just looking for purchase on anything.

“You feel. So. Good.” He punctuates each word of his statement with a punishing pump of his hips.

A cry leaves you, and you bury your head further.

He smacks your ass again. And again. The sharpness of it, the crack of skin-on-skin echoes through the room.

You suddenly feel his weight over you, the warmth of his skin against your back. His cock shifts inside you, a strangled gasp garbling from your mouth at the bottoming feeling of it close to your stomach.

His teeth sink into the crook of your neck and then he soothes the bite over with his tongue. “You’re edible.”

“Likewise,” you choke.

Still thrusting away, he grabs a boob in one hand and toys with your clit with the other.

The noises you’re making become hysterical and disconnected. You’re a mad woman—you’ve lost your mind.

“Harry,” you pant.

“I know,” he grunts, his teeth in your neck again. “Fuck.”

“I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah?” His breathless question leaves perspiration along your shoulder.

“Yeah. Come with me?”

“I’ll certainly fucking try.”

You clench your pussy around him. “Please?”

“Shit!” he yells. “Do that again.”

So you do, your delicate muscles contracting around his thick, hard length. He rubs your clit faster, and you tumble over the edge as he follows.

Spent, Harry collapses onto you, his body a delicious weight.

“Fuck, that was good,” he pants.

“It really was.”

“I think I need a nap.”

“We’ve only just woken up.”

“You’re the one who wanted it fast and hard.”

“Yeah. And?”

He sighs, his lips grazing your neck and shoulder. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

— — —

Later that morning, as you’re pulling fixings out of the fridge for a cooked breakfast, Harry appears out of the pantry, tying an apron around his waist.

A laugh tumbles out of you. “What are you doing, H?”

He gestures down himself with both hands. “Getting ready to make breakfast.”

“You and I both know you will not be doing any of the cooking.”

“I will be here for moral support.”

“Right. Which involves sitting there,” you point to a stool at the island, “and looking pretty.”

He flashes a winning smile. “You think I’m pretty?”

In lieu of swatting him with a tea towel, you flip him the bird.

“Is there anything I can do?” he offers, even as he’s rounding the counter to take his usual seat.

On a sigh, you say, “No, Harry. Your company is all I need.”

“You’ll be sick of me by the end of the day,” he predicts.

“Impossible.”

The food is a poached egg and salmon affair, which you plate up and serve at the counter. You take a seat in the stool beside Harry, both turned towards each other with your knees interlocking. He eats his breakfast one-handed, his other resting on your knee, squeezing every so often.

Rumours by Fleetwood Mac drifts from a speaker on the windowsill—Harry’s choice—eventually bleeding into Rock Spectacle from the Barenaked Ladies—your favourite.

When you’re done eating, Harry collects up all your dirty crockery and leaves a peck to the top of your head as he passes. While he does the washing up, you take the clothes out of the washing machine and put them into the dryer, then add a second load to the washer.

You finish your task before him, so you head into the living room and start looking for something to binge for the day. When Harry does reappear, now only in his boxers, he snatches the remote out of your hand, wraps an arm around your waist and yanks you down onto the sofa with him. You yelp as you tumble into his lap.

“What do we need to catch up on?” he asks, barely struggling with breath as he rearranges you with ease.

You wind up with your legs draped across his lap, the rest of your frame curled into his side. You make an attempt to swipe the remote out of his hands, but he holds it aloft with a shouted, “No!”

Heaving a sigh, you give up. “Silent Witness is back on. Or there’s, like, ten new murder documentaries on Netflix.”

He gives you a funny look. “Anything that doesn’t involve death?”

You scoff.

“Please. You love it.”

“I’m concerned you’ve watched so many at this point you could easily murder me and get away with it.”

“And you’d be right,” you deadpan.

He barks a laugh. “Fine. Murder in the day, rom-coms at night.”

“Good plan.”

— — —

Some hours later, when the low January sun is just past its highest point, the two of you vacate your nest on the sofa for some lunch. While Harry puts something together from the scraps in the fridge, you find the bits you need to paint your nails. Once you’ve eaten, you set everything up on the coffee table.

“What are you doing?”

Peering up at him from your seat on the floor, you answer, “I’m painting my nails.”

He’s quiet for a moment, curiously studying his own nails. “Will you do mine too?”

You fight the twitch of your mouth. “Sure. Pick your colours out.”

He joins you on the floor to rifle through your polishes. “What are you having?”

“Blue. Dark glitter and pastel.”

“I want the same.”

“Alright,” you say with a giggle.

“Can I paint yours?”

“If you like.”

So, with your insane murder documentary on in the background, you take turns to paint each other’s nails over the coffee table. He’s meticulous and particular with his work—tidying your cuticles, filing your nails to an even length, and never painting outside the lines. He also applies cuticle oil when he’s finished.

“Only thing missing is the warm flannel massage,” you joke.

He gives you another of his funny looks. “Do you want that?”

“No,” you chuckle.

“I’ll do it,” he insists, “hang on.”

“Harry, it was a joke!” you call after him as he runs from the room.

A minute later, he returns with a steaming flannel in hand. Retaking his seat, he leans over the table and takes each of your hands in turn, massaging your fingers and palms with the hot cloth.

“How do they look?” he asks as you admire your fresh manicure.

“They’re perfect,” you declare. “In fact, I’m concerned my abilities aren’t up to scratch.”

Your fiancé scoffs. “Don’t talk bollocks. They’ve always looked good.”

Deciding to keep quiet, you snatch his hand in one of your own and the cuticle stick in the other. While you prep his nails for polish, you keep an ear trained on the TV and what’s happening in the story. Harry remains suspiciously quiet, but you can feel his gaze on you all the time—not what you’re doing to his nails, but on you. It should be unnerving. Maybe even disconcerting, but you actually find it oddly relaxing. You’re so used to having his eyes on you—though it has always boggled you why he’d want to—it’s a comfort. You feel safe with him.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter at something said on the telly, and you catch Harry’s nose wrinkle.

“That’s grim,” he agrees under his breath.

“You gonna do that to me one day?” you tease.

“What? Quarter up your dead body and shove it in a barrel?”

“Yeah.”

He barks a laugh. “No way. You’re no use to me dead, darling.”

“Aw. That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Fuck off,” he scoffs.

— — —

The sound of a cork being popped causes your head to lift from where you’d been staring thoughtless at the rising bath water. You find Harry standing in the doorway to the bathroom, two wine glasses slid between his long fingers and a bottle of something bubbly in the other.

“What’s that?” you ask, swirling the water around with your foot to even out the temperature.

Steam swirls seductively through the air, rising from the tub in wafts and waves. Lavender and chamomile candles burn in the corners and on the windowsill. Your bath time playlist fills the otherwise silent room, featuring pandemic Taylor Swift and early London Grammar tracks.

“Wine, duh.” Harry places one glass on the lip of the tub and the other on the floor.

You watch bewildered as he fills both. “What for?”

“We’re celebrating.”

“Celebrating what?”

He kisses his teeth and shakes his head, his response an exasperated, “So many questions.”

You roll your eyes as you strip out of your clothes, knowing well enough you’re not going to get an answer to any of them. Also, who really cares what the wine is for? You’re an adult with no work commitments tomorrow.

Harry sits beside the tub using a stolen pillow from your bed to cushion his backside. While you talk more wedding plans his hand dangles in the water, sometimes just swirling the water around idly, other times gliding a finger up and down your arm, your waist, your thigh.

His touch is intoxicating, and you find yourself sinking lower into the water.

His gaze trails to your legs where they’ve subtly spread for him. Expression hungry, he dances his fingers across your inner thigh and up to your pussy.

The conversation naturally drifts off as he starts teasing your clit, his chin now resting on the side of the tub to watch his work.

He knows exactly what he’s doing, he’s done it so many times—a talented man with talented fingers. Perhaps not quite like this, though, set up in the bathtub, but it works all the same. In fact it might be even better this way. 

He works his way around your needy clit and then into your wanting heat with his finger, causing your body temperature to spike. You moan and gasp your way through his clever ministrations, having to bite down on your own finger when he adds a second to take up more space.

What actually finishes you off, unbelievably, is when he leans in to kiss you.

When you’ve calmed down he slowly removes his fingers, and he’s about to wipe them on a towel, but you snatch his hand and clean them up yourself before he can. He groans and kisses you again.

With your legs like jelly, Harry helps you rise out of the bath and onto the solid, heated bathroom floor. He finds your towel and wraps it around you like a well-sated little burrito. He brings you into his arms, your body flush against his, and he pecks the tip of your nose ever so lightly. You can’t help but smile up at him, because you seem to have found the man who is the exact perfect mix of sweet and spicy. Your smile brings out his own—dimples and laugh lines and all.

“Shall we get a takeaway?” he asks, breaking the spell you’d found yourself in.

“I’ve bought stuff in for dinner!”

“Ah, we can have that tomorrow.”

“Harry,” you scold.

“I really want Thai.”

“You always want Thai.”

“That’s not true. Yesterday while you worked late I had sushi.”

“But was that really just a substitute for Thai while I wasn’t home?”

“Nope. I really wanted sushi.”

“Sure.”

“Come on, bab,” he starts nudging you towards the door, “go put your jim-jams on, and I’ll put the order in and set the lounge up for movies.”

“You don’t know what I want,” you argue, digging your heels in.

“You have the same thing every time, my love.”

“Well maybe I want something different.”

“No, you don't.” 

At the entrance to your bedroom, he whips off your towel and shoves you through the door. “Go on.”

— — —

Harry’s phone starts chirping on the coffee table when you’re nearly done with your first film. His head is in your lap, knees up with his white-socked feet pressed against the arm of the sofa. Your hands are in his hair, freshly painted nails scratching his scalp. You love the noise he makes when you do it—he purrs like a kitten.

Glen Powell and Sydney Sweeney bicker their way around Sydney on the telly, with Glen’s abs and Sydney’s chest on display for the entirety of Australia to see. Not that you’re complaining.

Harry blindly reaches for his phone while moving as little as possible, and lifts it high to check the caller ID.

You wince at his mother’s name on the screen because you know he’ll never turn her down if he’s free, even though it’s your first day off together in months and you’re in the middle of a film. This isn’t to say you have anything against the woman—you don’t. She’s amazing, kind, and generous.

But…

“Pause the TV, bab?”

Harry is a mummy’s boy.

And sometimes, just sometimes, you don’t feel up to listening to their conversation for an hour.

Still, you love the man and his mother, so you pause the movie and paste on a smile that portrays interest. Anne asks about your day, how work is going, how the wedding planning is coming along, and fortunately these are all things you can give invested updates on.

Conversation naturally turns to Harry’s sister, the baby, and the next time you’re all free at the same time. Your work is unpredictable, so as always you can only give the disappointing, unhelpful answer of “You’ll let her know soon.”

You’re not sure exactly how long you end up on the phone with your mother-in-law-to-be, but it’s approximately one whole glass of wine. As soon as the call ends, Harry curls up right back next to you, his head returned to its favourite place in your lap.

Another two full films later—10 Things I Hate About You and 13 Going on 30—you finally hit your limit and decide to call it a night. You do a quick tidy up, clearing the mess of your dinner and that second ‘celebratory’ bottle of wine. Not wanting to wake up to a mess, the two of you tag team the dishes, although Harry spends the first few minutes clinging to you from behind and feeling you up in lewd ways.

It’s late by the time you’re done. You can’t fight the yawning you’re doing, and your body is close to shutting down. The ascent of the staircase to bed looks like a mountain.

“Want a piggyback?” Harry offers with a peck to your cheek.

“Yes please,” you say, still yawning.

“Climb on, then.”

You scramble ungracefully onto his back, your arms fastened around his neck and your legs hooked in the crease of his elbows. He carries you up the one flight with criminal ease and straight into your shared bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

“Ready for bed?” he asks, settling you back on your feet.

Smothering another yawn, you nod as you stumble toward the bed. “I am. How can I be so tired after doing nothing all day?”

He smiles down at you, green eyes shiny and hooded. “You’ve worked hard recently. It’s probably catching up to you.”

You grunt in response. His hands paw at your clothes so you allow him to undress you. Once you’re both naked you tumble into bed.

Finding yourself back in an innocent tangle of limbs, you sink against the warmth of his body.

“What shall we do tomorrow?” Harry prompts, his lips brushing your temple.

Your finger traces the lines of tattoos on his chest—the swallows, the butterfly, the ‘g’ and the dates. “No idea.”

“Walk?”

“No.”

“Drive?”

“Maybe.”

“Noted.” He giggles, kissing your temple where his lips rest. “I know just the place to go.”

“Yeah?”

He hums. “I think you’ll like it.”

“If you’re with me, I’m sure I will.”

His arms tighten around you, and you reciprocate his grip, burying your face into his neck.

“I love you, H,” you mumble, on the cusp of unconsciousness.

And just as you slip into that dark, warm abyss, you hear his whispered, “I love you, too.”

[kalims]

ㅤlikey likey

premise. certain situations bring out the realization that they like it, and they can't help but appreciate it.

featuring. vice dorm leaders + ruggie

content. gender neutral reader, fluff

note. can we all agree that ruggie is savanaclaws vice dorm leaders at this point

trey likes it when you accompany him when he's in the kitchen, or anywhere for that matter but he's got a pretty big preference for his favorite place. maybe he thinks it's endearing to witness you acting like a little helper and following him around when he's just lowering the heat on the stove.

but he's used to the kitchen being so empty, with you there. the sound of the ticking oven is overshadowed by your light chatter, he'd thought he would perform better in a quiet environment to focus but turns out his treats come out more delicious than ever with the thought of you.

ruggie likes it when his hand brushes against yours, it's his personal favorite when he takes certain items from you. be it dangling your phone away from you, or a stray donut you just happened to be eating and didn't even think to share with him! :( .

initially he was just stealing stuff from you as a way to mess with you, he thinks it's funny. (it's totally a ruggie love language trust me. he'd never rob someone so obviously.) but now it's just another reason to use so he can cover up the 'I wanna touch you but idk how without getting called out.

jade likes it when you're both up in the mountains scouring for dangerous mushrooms to take home and claim as pets. you're a pretty prominent figure if he's actually telling you that you can't take that one home because it releases a poisonous spore when touched, but he says that there's another way of taking then home..?

especially when you're just crouching down, admiring them (from a distance usually because you've grown a fear from how many times he's warned you about a variety.) you're too immersed in it and jade can't pinpoint whether to be pleased or iffed that your attentions not on him. well it's always a pleasure to see his two favorite things together.

jamil likes it when you see him midst conversation and he sees you visibly brightening up. it doesn't matter if it's in a sense that everyone can tell but to him he can see your energy jolt when your eyes seem to sparkle. even better when you come up with some half-assed excuse to get out of said conversation and instead approach him to start another conversation.

the fact that you'd be so willing to abandon a talk with someone for a talk with him sends his soul ascending to the heavens and doing cartwheels. you're lucky cause he usually avoids talk with other people but he can't seem to make a lie to get out when you're looking a him like that.

rook is an eccentric man so his like for you is a little.. strange? he likes it when you greet him, weirdly simple for someone like rook but wait! he likes it because over time him speaking up from some random place like a tree, or a window doesn't scare the shit out of you as it used to. so to be short you're accustomed to his antics so you just greet him casually.

he always grins brighter when he hears it, his eyes crinkle and he always comes up with the poetic compliments before giving a variety of greetings each time. he doesn't mean to scare someone when he does it, they usually all run away when he wants to talk so you're just so fantastic! <4

ortho likes it when you visit. actually he likes you a lot! you're one of the few people in the entirety of nrc that are 1.) isn't scared of him or 2.) not weirded out. you're just like another big sibling to him! his favorite time of the day is around 8-10 PM because that's when you usually come around for your daily visit to catch up with him, gossip, or whatever. ortho will support you in whatever.

a crime? he expresses concern but is fully willing to aid you with whatever :) (HES SO CUTE.)

lilia likes it when you kiss his nose. he loves any affection you show him at all, kisses on the lips, fingers, temple whatever. he's gonna gobble every single second of it. his personal favorite though? for some reason its the nose. he insists its the inner bat in him, since bats do show affection through rubbing each other's noses together. you aren't one though so a kiss there is probably the closest to that.

plus points if you do it when he just jumpscares you after dropping from the ceiling, hanging upside down in his favorite position while you kiss his nose? oh goodness, he's in heaven! plz don't hold back, kiss him more... if you don't wanna he's gonna trick you either way (with love ofc)

note. HIHIHI sorry this isn't much but I figured I better feed the vice dorm leader stans 😭 not pr its midnight rn hel

Ill just link this tom, I'm gonna sleep 😓

[astrologanize]

how do you make them feel? (platonic/romantic)

*please take a moment to take a deep breath and choose the image you are most drawn towards*

🍏 pile 1:

whoever you are inquiring about - you make this person reflect on things that bring up certain fears, you make this person feel like they don’t know what to do, you make this person feel more reserved and held back (in a positive and/or negative way), you make this person reconsider and reevaluate. when it comes to this connection you need to make sure you are also being self-reflective, you need to make sure that you aren’t assuming this connection is better than it actually is or treating this connection too lightly, it does seem like this connection is meant to teach both of you about something and in order to learn you need to get out of your ego and do some soul searching

🍎 pile 2:

whoever you are inquiring about - if this person is someone you don’t know very well then it’s definitely showing up that they’re neutral towards you, if this person is someone you are acquainted with that is in your life then you make them feel like it’s a more informal connection because i’m not seeing that you make this person feel much, if this person is someone from the past who is no longer in your life then you make them feel like there may have been some things left unsaid/that your connection was a defeat for them in some way but ultimately they feel like they are moving on and don’t want to rehash anything. when it comes to this connection you either need to change things up and challenge your maturity level or you need to think long & hard about this connection and what you can take away from it so that you can grow as a person

🍐 pile 3:

whoever you are inquiring about - you make this person feel comfortable, this person feels like you two have a routine or a very laid out dynamic with each other, you make them feel like there’s a reliability within your connection. when it comes to this connection it seems incredibly cyclic and you need to be wary of repeating the same experiences/lessons over and over with this person, either you need to avoid leaving too much open ended when it comes to this person because they can be/get a little too comfortable in this connection and feel like they don’t have to properly attend to your connection or the case is that you need to try to work on your own bad habits within this connection because this person overlooks a lot/is overly generous towards you

🍊 pile 4:

whoever you are inquiring about - you make this person feel challenged in a positive way, you make this person feel like they have to branch out more, you make this person utilize their wits and capabilities more, orrrr if this is someone you have beef or had beef with then you make this person feel uncomfortable and they have some shit to say about you lol. when it comes to this connection you need to make sure you’re invested and open to it because this isn’t a connection to brush off/close yourself off to, try to avoid reading into things and making snap judgments, try to give the benefit of the doubt, try to appreciate the connection, try to see the possibilities of what could be, try to take your time with it

🍋 pile 5:

whoever you are inquiring about - you make this person feel more focused on themselves, you may give this person an ego boost somehow. when it comes to this connection you shouldn’t be putting too much energy and effort towards it, this seems like a connection that is what it is so try to be easygoing, avoid trying to make strides towards this person or having aspirations for this connection, try to avoid being confrontational or getting your hackles up because it’s not worth it

🍉 pile 6:

whoever you are inquiring about - me no likey this pile. you make this person feel like they have the control and like they can do what they want with that so i am seeing a poor power dynamic. when it comes to this connection you need to grow a backbone and love yourself

[bigbysgentlehand]

i wanna chart out the earth-null marvelcule at some point because i love when a polycule becomes an incomprehensible web

so like in terms of who i ship hatman with. obviously theres quill and johnny. parker's a little up in the air, but im leaning towards it. theres a few others that are also still up in the air like kurt and jake.

quill pairings ... i like quillock and i like riderquill a lot but im not super informed on either is the issue. im not that big on prydequill admittedly so im probably just gonna brush past that. same with starmora. twitter has also gotten me into starknight ... moonstar? idk but its him w moon knight and i likey.

so. obviously i cannot ignore spideytorch. it is a necessity in these trying times. its peak. BUT i also really like the classics (mj/parker) and the niche picks (johnny/angelica) so thats gonna be present too. btw earth-null mj is transmasc and uses he/they pronouns. I DO ALSO LOVE PETER/HARRY TBH SO LIKE UM MAYBE THAT WILL HAPPEN.

the nightmare polycule

[angelicsjn]

how would the yanderes react if we gave them the silent treatment?

YOUR SEVEN YANDERES.

A N: Ooooo. Drama, me likey.

A B O U T: You give them the silent treatment.

W A R N I N G S: Angst. Lots of it.

— ROMAN CORNELIUS JAMES BEAUREGARD.

At first, he wouldn't react. He'd continue as usual, brushing it off as a bad mood.

Roman can deal with a bad mood. We're all human. He doesn't push it, and if you want to speak, he'll let you do it.

Until it turned into days of complete silence, he questions why and at first tries to pull you out of it. As you refuse, he gives up.

He can play at that game.

He's the one in control here, and if you want to act like a child, he will treat you like one.

He ignores you and walks past you without a single glance. Doesn't say good morning or good night. He acts as if you don't even exist. Placing your plate down without much thought towards you when he usually rubs your back or even has you on his lap.

If you keep up ignoring him, he will leave for work and even spend up to a week without any contact as he races, and the only interaction you have from him is watching him on screen, when usually you're there with him because he doesn't like being away from you at all.

You felt like it backfired way too much, that he stopped caring, and that's where the switch flicked. He didn't need you. You needed him.

In the end, it's you who crawls back. The silent treatment doesn't work with Roman because if you want to be left, he will leave until you beg for him to even look your way.

He may be petty when annoyed and the sweetest when happy, but his lack of emotion at times is borderline terrifying.

— LATEN REED.

He hates it. HATES. IT.

Laten won't leave you alone, telling you anything and everything, even brings up people you don't like to try and gain a reaction.

He buys you your favourite foods and puts on your favourite movies. Each day, he comes back with something he knew you'd like and nearly breaks everything with frustration as you completely ignore him.

He watches you like a hawk, more than usual. Why are you acting this way? He slowly backs away to see your issue.

But he misses you. He misses being close. So he tries other ways. Holding you extra tight on nights, staying in bed longer in the morning. Kisses you more, tries being more playful with you, maybe you're bored.

Your attitude pretty much takes the space in his mind to the point where his coach screams at him to focus.

His breaking point was your lack of presence or even care at his game. It was a big deal for him. You're his lucky charm.

He walked away from the game with a bloody nose, sprained wrist, and busted knuckles from pretty much fighting the opposing team rather than actually playing.

When he returned back in that state, he didn't even get dressed. Walked right back to you, and you saw his frustration and hurt, and worry took over the silence.

You gave in after seeing how hurt he was, physically and mentally, from your silence.

— JAE 'NIKO' LEE.

Jae is a wild card. At first, he uses his idol mask. Treats you as if you're a fan at a fansign, gentle and patient. Smiley and sweet.

'What's wrong? Did I do something?' With his famous sweet eyes and gentle touches.

When you refuse to even look his way, he quickly loses his patience.

He makes a scene, shouting, accusing you of hurting his feelings. He treats you so well? Why are you being so horrible?

He's risking so much being with you. He's an idol. If people find out he's done, career over, so why are you being so fucking ungrateful? You're so hard to deal with. You're so damn selfish.

He has sacrificed so much. He could have chosen anyone. Anyone. Yet he chose you. A childish brat.

He talks you to the ground, 5 trips you into believing your actions are all your fault rather than a reaction to his.

He holds you as you cry, saying sorry. Stroking your hair, kissing your cheek, wiping away your tears, 'it's okay. You'll learn, you understand I do all this for you. For us.'

— KAIDAN ALEXANDER WOLFE.

Heh, he's delusional. He doesn't even notice at first. To him, you're perfect, and so is your relationship. He does something wrong? No. He didn't. Huh. You're both so happy!

You're giving him silent treatment? No. You wouldn't do that.. would you? No. You're just ill. You're not well. Is your throat sore? Or maybe you're tired. That's probably it.

He makes every excuse to exist rather than see you're actually ignoring him. He will speak, even if you don't reply. He will kiss you, even if you don't kiss back.

You don't hug back. He hugs harder. You refuse to eat with him. He will place you on his lap and feed you. Obviously, you're too tired to eat. Poor baby.

If anything, he annoys you more. He babies you, does literally everything for you to the point where you feel suffocated and start speaking to shut him up..

He still then doesn't see how you were truly acting, he almost drives you insane with how delusional he was and even if you told him you were ignoring him he'd find away to refuse the truth and create his own story.

— HAYDEN WEST.

He picks up on the vibes before you even do it. He freezes up because why? Why are you ignoring him? What did he do wrong?

Hayden walks on eggshells around you, speaks carefully. Tries not to annoy you. Does anything in his power to make you like him again.

He doesn't see it as silent treatment. He genuinely believes you hate him. So he does anything and everything to make you like him.

As time passes, he doesn't change. He's persistent and wallows in the sadness completely. At some points, he joins you. Sitting there quietly as he wonders why, what does he need to do to bring you back to him?

He eventually cries. Literally begging you to go love him again. Saying he's sorry for everything and whatever he's done to hurt you.

He'll never do it again. He loves you so so much! Please, please love him again. Don't leave. Don't ignore. Speak to him. Hug him. Kiss him. Don't go. Please do not go!

You hold him and give in. Seeing his sweet face cry, his heartbreaking words. How could you? You end up feeling guilty for making him feel that way.

— JOSHUA WHITE.

Joshua hates it. Communication is everything to him. He doesn't understand why you aren't just talking to him? It's not hard.

He allows your emotions to simmer. He understands that maybe you need space if you both have a disagreement. It's only human to react in such a way.

But once it turns into days of nothing, he grows agitated because he just wants you near him, to see you smile again.

"Come on, love. Let's speak." He hushes out, his hand on your back as he watches you with worried dark eyes. "What have I done?"

He doesn't stop until you tell him. He will literally get onto his knees and beg that you tell him.

— BLAKE CROSS.

This idiot doesn't even notice. He's too busy in his own lavish world to see that you're completely blanking him.

He thought you were tired, cold, too warm, maybe hungry. Maybe you felt bad for accepting that ring. Maybe you miss your family, you little humble lifestyle. You'd have to get used to it, you know?

He'd only see that it's him you've got the issue with when you pull away from his touch. He doesn't like that. He really fucking doesn't.

"What?" He snaps, not knowing what's up. "Why are you ignoring me?" As you blank him, once again, he grabs you by your shoulders.

"What's wrong? What have I done now?" He rolls his eyes and mentally cusses himself out.

He probably said something dumb again.

[ramp-it-up]

How I Married Your Mother Pt. 2

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. SMUT! Read at your own risk. Fluff, Angst, Woman on top, pregnancy symptoms, creampie, pregnancy test, discussion of keeping the baby, ultrasound.

A/N: I needed a wholesome break from the sin that is The Bar Au 🥵, well as wholesome as smut can be? Anyway, I struggled to make this shorter, but finally gave in to the length. There will just have to be a part three. 🤗Dividers by @firefly-graphics​. I’ve been going through a lot this week, so I hope you enjoy!

Read How I Married Your Mother, Pt 1, This is Part of the How I Met Your Father Series found here.

Smut under the cut.

I no longer have a taglist.

Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

As you rode Chris you felt electric.

Your thighs were sore from tensing up, because every time you moved your hips, the drag of his long, thick cock your walls sparked fire.

You panted and looked down on him as he looked at where you two were connected. Those fucking eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheeks and his mouth was open, gasping for breath at how good you were fucking himself on him.

You put your hand on one of his pecs, tracing your thumb against his nipple. Chris’s mouth opened wider.

“Fuck Angel. Didn’t know that you missed me that much…shit! Fucking yourself so good on this cock.. Pussy so wet. And sooo fucking tight.”

One of Chris’ hands reached for your clit, and the other hand grasped your breast.

“Fuck, Chris! Your dick feels sooo damn good inside me.”

Your thighs trembled as you moved faster, the stimulation from Chris’ hands spurring you on. He brushed your nipple with his thumb. It was so sensitive that you moaned loudly, so he did it again, causing you to clench and grind down on his cock.

“So fucking responsive for me. Shit!”

Chris moved the hand that working your clit and slapped your ass.

“Ride me cowgirl!”

He continued rubbing your nipple and sat up to lick it. The. He breathed up into your face as his eyes held yours. His deep voice caused you to shiver.

“You’re about to milk my cock for all that it’s worth.”

And he leaned down and softly suckled your breast. That and those blue eyes entrancing you made you throw your head back as you came violently round him.

Chris tilted you back onto the bed and ponded you until he reached his end, spurting cum into your clenching hot cunt. You could swear that you felt every pulse and shot against your walls and cervix.

“Holy fuck, that was hot!” He kissed your sweaty forehead. “God I missed you.”

“Missed you too.” You started giggling.

“But ride me cowgirl? How are you so sexy but such a dork?”

You smiled into Chris’s eyes as he lay stroking your side, chuckling with happiness.

“What can I say? it's my superpower.”

You smirked at him.

“What did you put on our dick?”

Chris raised his eyebrow at you.

“I beg your pardon?”

“It feels like an electric baton. Like it’s in 3-D or something”

Chris leaned up on his elbow.

“Can I have some of what you’re smoking? Because my dick has always been 3-D? Maybe it’s all the lotion I’ve used jacking off to pictures of you for the last two weeks.”

You giggled again.

“You mean you’re real? Chris Evans just let me ride him into the sunset?”

Chris smiled, glad that you two could laugh about it. His fame had been the only source of tension in your relationship.

“Yeah. Because he loves you so much.”

He leaned down and kissed you on the nose, then rubbed your nipples.

“It is really hot how you reacted every time I touched you. What’s up with that?”

You shrugged.

“I don't know. I’m just extra sensitive. Maybe it’s reunification hormones?”

Chris laughed.

“Or maybe it’s just going to be that time of the month. Can’t that affect sensation? Your tits are extra big. Me likey.”

Chris leaned down and started running his lips across your nipples. You lay back and smiled as you enjoyed the sensation, you hand in his hair and scratching his scalp as he made you feel good.

Then your eyes popped open. You sat straight up and pushed Chris off you.

“What’s wrong?”

You looked at Chris and your mouth fell open.

“Fuck!”

You gasped and grabbed your phone.

“Haven’t had a time of the month since couple of weeks before Vegas.”

You checked your cycle tracker.

“Holy Shit!”

This explained a lot.

Chris was still clueless.

“But that was two months…” He caught on. …”ago…”

“Yeah…”

You started freaking out and going to your closet to grab some sweats, Chris’ in fact, your new favorites.

“What are you doing?”

You were irritated now.

“Going to the drug store, Christopher.”

“You can’t go in this state. Let me.”

“The paps are stalking you. They followed us here. You certainly can’t be seen buying a pregnancy test…what if I’m not pregnant? I love you, but I’m not going through all that for nothing.”

Chris knew you were right.

“Then what do we do?”

You grabbed your phone and pressed a contact. It was two am, but you knew she'd pick up the phone.

An hour later, Kit was knocking on your door with a bag of assorted pregnancy tests.

“Whaddup, Dude Bro. Not firing blanks I see!” She put her hand up for a high five from Chris.

“You gonna leave me hanging? I see how it is.”

You took the bag from her, not amused.

“Not funny Kit. Let’s hope he is firing blanks.”

“Hey!”

Chris protested as you gave Kit a quick hug.

“Thank you girl.”

You grabbed the bag and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

You heard Kit and Chris trying the knob and knocking on the door.

“Open up bitch.”

“C’mon, Angel, let me in.”

“Just let me have 10 minutes please!”

They heard the panic in your voice and decided to stop pressing you.

Chris and Kit went to the kitchen to give you some space.

Kit walked around the kitchen island eyeing Chris.

“So. If my girl is pregnant, are you gonna man up?”

Chris retorted quickly.

“Have you forgotten the last two weeks? You know how I feel about her.”

“Yeah, yeah, but you’re also an actor.”

Kit squared up, as tall as Chris was as he sat on the stool.

“You fuck my girl over, you’re a dead man. Just know that if you run from your responsibilities, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you.”

Kit and Chris stared each other down for about 30 seconds until Kit lost interest and opened your fridge.

“A bitch is hungry, what y’all got to eat in here.”

Chris hadn’t thought of running, but now he didn’t know whether to get a head start or laugh.

Kit was kinda crazy.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom you were looking in the mirror and trying to regulate your breathing. It took you a couple of minutes, but you finally opened all the tests and lined them up.

Kit had bought five different kinds.

“Nothing to it, but to do it,” you said to yourself as you started the process.

15 minutes and five tests later, you walked out of the bathroom. Your face said it all

“Ohhhhh, SHIT!”

“Kit…” your voice barely registered. You were in shock. You looked over to Chris who was sitting on the stool with a blank stare.

“I’M FIXING TO BE AN AUNTIE!!!”

“Kit!”

Your voice was louder now as the panic set in.

“OooooooOOOO! I hope it’s a little ol’ girl!”

“KIT SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

Both Kit and Chris were staring at you. Kit looked from you to him and cleared her throat.

“Well, you two might like some privacy right about now. Iiiii’mmmm gonna go get something to eat. From The Diner. Watcha want?”

She was greeted with silence as you and Chris continued to look at each other, trying to read the other’s expression.

“Alrighty then. I’ll get the usual. Be back.”

As soon as the door closed behind her, Chris got up and as he neared, you backed away.

You went to sit on the couch and he followed. Your head was in your hands as you felt the couch dip beside you.

“Shit.”

Your heart dropped. You peeked between your fingers to look at him.

Chris was grinning.

“Ohhh shit!” He started laughing.

“What the hell are you laughing at???”

“This is perfect!”

You stood up, horrified.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind!”

Chris stood up and put his hands on your arms.

“I know this is a little unexpected. But it’s not like we didn’t want it, right? I mean, we’ve been going at it raw since day one…”

“I didn’t… I… I’m not trying to trap you Chris…”

You shook your head and pulled away.

“I didn’t say that. How could you trap me when I’m a grown man? I knew very well what we were doing and this crossed my mind.”

He shrugged.

“I decided that I’d be thrilled if you have my baby.”

You stared at him.

“Did you plan this?”

“No. Just like you, I’m not trying to trap you, but you had to know this could happen.”

You shook your head again.

“I guess I did. Theoretically. But I was so caught up in this new… this.. us..”

You motioned between you two.

“…And work that I just didn’t think…Oh fuck. Work. What am I going to do?”

You started sobbing and Chris moved toward you and tentatively took you in his arms. When you let him, he held you close.

“It’s okay…..” He was silent for a long while. “Whatever you want to do, I’m here.”

You held onto him for dear life. You were so scared.

“This is not like I had this planned.”

Chris held you out from him, and wiped your tears with his thumbs. He kissed your lips. And then he started to kneel.

“What the hell are you doing???”

“Will you marry me?”

“NO!“

Chris was shocked. He got up and sat on the couch with the same expression he wore when he found out you were pregnant.

He looked so lost that you felt bad. You sat down beside him.

“Chris… I can’t marry you.”

Your voice was soft

“Why not?” He looked so much like a little boy.

“Because I.. we just can’t.”

“Look me in my eyes and tell me you don't love me.”

You couldn’t do it. You looked down at your hands twisting in your lap.

“You only want to marry me because I’m pregnant. Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“I love you Angel. That’s why I want to marry you.”

“Chris, we’ve known each other for two months…”

He looked at you, and those blue eyes never seemed bluer.

“True, but I knew the moment I saw you.”

“Chris….”

“Tell me you don’t feel the same way and I’ll adjust my attitude. I won’t ask you. For a month. But I will ask you every month until the day I die until you say yes.”

You sighed.

“I don’t go with you. Chris Evans marries librarian. So not the move Chris.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that. You make me happy.”

“I haven't told my mom about you.”

“I’ve told mine everything about you.”

You looked at him in astonishment.

“Everything?”

He smiled. “We’re close.”

You just shook your head and tried to talk him out of it.

“Do you want a boring life?”

“I want consistency.”

“Do you want to be tied down with a family?”

“I want the opportunity to be there for my kid.”

“Do you want to be trapped?”

“I want to be given the gift of trying to make you happy every day for the rest of my life.” You looked in his eyes and you knew he meant it.

“Give me a chance to do those things. I love you. I want you. I need you. I want to make this work.”

You put your head in your hands.

“Chris. This is too much. I need… time. to think. I need space. To breathe.”

Chris didn’t want to leave. But if he stayed he knew it would be a fight and wouldn’t get him anywhere.

He gathered his things, and came back into the living room, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“I love you, Angel. Call me and I’m here.”

You nodded and gave him a hug at the door. This all felt so surreal. You went to your bed and lay down, hoping this was all a dream.

Kit basically broke into your apartment, although she had a key, when you wouldn’t answer her. You had to tell her why you were crying because she was about to go ham and unleash holy hell on Chris on social media.

“Dude Bro is gonna be a daddy. What’s the problem?”

“He asked me to marry him.”

Kit moved her neck.

“...As he should… Dafuq?”

“I’m not down for that Kit.”

“Girl, you are tripping. He is clearly head over heels for you. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Kit stopped and massaged her temples.

“I’m sorry. I said I was gonna stop saying that to people.”

Kit took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. Then she spoke to you again in a faux soothing tone.

“How can I help you understand what the fuck is wrong with you?”

You didn’t have an explanation.

“It’s just too much to think about, Kit.”

“Are you going to keep the baby?”

You looked at her. She saw it in your eyes.

“Well then, think about this. When you have that baby, there is no way that you will keep Chris away. And you two can’t keep your hands off each other sooo… you’ll probably make more little dude bros. Why not marry him if nothing else than to save the baby mama drama?”

“Fuck the fact THAT YOU LOVE THAT MAN??? THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

Kit got up and went to the kitchen.

“Now eat this damn food. Got to make sure my godchild is fed.”

Kit fed you and stayed with you all night. You fell asleep curled up next to her on the couch.

The next morning, you woke up in your bed and reached for Chris. You panicked and then remembered the night before.

“My god. What have I done?”

You really turned down a marriage proposal from the man you loved.

You reached for your phone and melted when you saw the texts from Chris.

I wanted to call you and come back over so many times last night, but you said you wanted space.

Space sucks.

Call me.

Please.

You called him and he picked up immediately.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Hey, Angel. Did you sleep well?”

Chris sounded tired.

“Slept okay. How about you?”

He sighed. “Not a lot.”

“You hungry?”

“Not really.”

“You gotta eat.”

“Okay. You wanna go somewhere?”

“I… might be in your lobby. With food.”

You chuckled. “Well, come on up.”

You went to the bathroom and tried to fix your self. You looked terrible.

“You look gorgeous.”

Was the first thing Chris said when you opened the door. You smiled and stepped back to let him in.

“I look like shit. I need a shower…”

Chris went to the kitchen to put the food down.

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

You smiled at him. “How did you get in the lobby?”

“Doorman took pity on me when he saw the paparazzi.”

“Ah. Listen, Chris…”

“No, Angel. You listen.”

The authoritativeness in Chris’s voice gave you pause.

“I presented it all wrong last night. You can’t push me away. Like it said, I’m here. Believe it or not, I was already planning to propose. And I’m not going to alter those plans, so think about your answer.”

He moved to take you in his arms and you let him.

“Because pregnant or not, librarian or not, whether your mom ever knows about me or not, You’re my forever. And I just want to be yours.”

“Chris, I’ve thought…”

He cut you off with a kiss.

“You missed your chance last night. I’ll ask you again, but you don’t get to control it. I’m coming for you. And you need to get ready.”

You flushed and looked up at him through your lashes.

“Yes… Daddy.”

He chuckled. “Fuck Angel. Did you say something about a shower?”

Two weeks later—

Chris moved to sit down and the nurse quickly moved a chair behind him to catch him.

“Mr. Evans, are you okay?”

Chris looked at the doctor. “Who? What?”

“Oh. My. God, Chris! Look at them!”

Your voice broke as you said it.

Chris looked up at the screen and then remembered that you were on the table with an ultrasound wand up your hooo hah.

He moved to hold your hand again and looked into your tear filled eyes.

“Yes, Ms. YLN and Mr. Evans. There they are. Your twins. Baby A and Baby B.”

[violetsandfluff]

College!Shawn and reader are dating and one day they have a free period so they came to Shawn’s house and they’re just like cuddling in his bed watching a film and Karen and Manny come in the room because they’re off work for the afternoon and they start teasing Shawn and he gets embarrassed and reader is trying not to laugh

anon, anon! 😏 me likey

“You have a free period next, right?” a low voice inquired from beside you as you walked out of your English class, scrambling with your binder.

You whirled around to see Shawn grinning at you from the wall beside the door. He was tall, clothed in a gray sweatshirt and black skinny jeans, his backpack slung lazily over his shoulder.

“What?” you asked as he bent to pick up a thick book that had escaped your grasp.

“You have a free period next, right?” he repeated, brushing some stray hairs from your face.

“Yeah. My professor cancelled last minute. Why?”

“Wanna come to my house?” he asked. “You should come to my house.”

“Can I stop at my dorm first?” you asked, still struggling with your books.

“No. Here, I’ll help.” Shawn scooped some books and papers out of your arms and carried them to his car, tapping them against his car’s roof to straighten them. He handed them to you as he drove out of the parking lot and you filed them away in your orderly backpack.

Shawn switched on the radio and you both sang along to the 80s songs that played through his speakers, thoroughly enjoying the fun old elements of it.

When they reached his house, they carried their bags and water bottles inside and up to Shawn’s bedroom, dropping them by his door and kicking off their shoes.

You ran to the bathroom with one of Shawn’s sweatshirts as Shawn sifted through the movies he had and decided that you could choose. He was tired and cuddly. He would be too busy admiring you to watch it.

You chose The Notebook and he turned it on, giving you a smirk as he peeled the covers off of his bed and crawled in. “Join me?”

You crawled into the covers as he pressed play on his remote. His arms felt so warm around you.

You could have melted.

You didn’t mind that he was still wearing jeans and he didn’t mind that you stole another one of his sweatshirts. He just wanted you in his arms.

The movie was background noise as you and Shawn talked. You talked about your classes, one particularly looney professor you had, and the headache of a lab partner he was stuck with.

“I love you,” Shawn said as he nuzzled his head into your hair.

“I love you more,” you murmured back as you snuggled against his chest.

He kissed you long and slow. Hard. So hard that it conked you out. You and Shawn slept beneath his cloud-like comforter until a voice stirred you awake.

You assumed it was the movie, but Shawn recognized the voices better.

“Good morning, sleepyheads,” Manny joked. “Mom and I are home for the afternoon.”

Shawn gave them a thumbs up and tried to snuggle down further into the covers with you.

“Ditching again?” Karen smiled, casting a joking glance at you, but you didn’t see it.

“I don’t have classes this afternoon,” Shawn explained as his cheeks flamed. He stuck a shoulder out of the blanket to show his parents that he was clothed.

“What’re you watching?” Manny recognized the movie immediately and couldn’t help giving a hefty laugh.

“I dunno,” he grumbled. “Ask Y/N.”

“The Notebook!” you piped up and Karen grabbed the doorknob again.

“Enjoy, lovebirds,” she said as she left and Manny saluted them.

“I think they’ll probably leave us alone now,” you remarked with a smirk.

Shawn grimaced. “Something tells me you’re right.”

Taglist: @wayfcharlie @fishingirl12 @monikamendes @chocochipcookie305 @pamelagramm

[hypersonicjd]

Sonic Fandom Rant

Okay so, although I have been pretty ecstatic to see people be as excited as I have been for Sonic Frontiers’ new story direction, going to more serious things like what we had in the Adventure era, I feel people have been taking way too many jabs at the previous writers for stories.

Pontaff was hit and miss sometimes. I feel they hit it good with Colors. I feel the dialogue was mostly harmless and sometimes even fun (people from the fandom really dragged the baldy mcnosehair bit to the ground when it was only used ONCE OR TWICE in the entire game.) it could’ve been better yes, but I don’t think it deserves as much rejection as what people have been voicing as of late. Generations didn’t really have much of a story which was a missed opportunity and it could’ve been so much grander and better while still being a fun ride. Lost World is where most of the ups and downs REALLY tend to fluctuate. They got Eggman pretty well, Sonic doing something reckless (which I believe he would end up doing and is in character imo) and Tails being more proactive. I feel the conflict could’ve been something better instead of Tails feeling jealous or brushed aside, BUT I love him as a character evolving to the point of straight up standing up against Sonic for something that he doesn’t feel is right.

That means that Tails sees himself as... HIMSELF, that he wants to be seen as his own person and not just Sonic’s sidekick or something alike and that is something that I genuinely liked. But then we have Orbot and Cubot shenanigans, with Cubot almost killing Sonic and Eggman having to save him because Tails was messing around too much. That was pretty stupid and me no likey. Eggman WANTING TO TEAR THE DEADLY SIX APART AND HAVING THAT RAGE MOMENT IN THE OTHER HAND IS A CHEF’S KISS. He was menacing and genuinely scary at that moment. Mike’s performance in the scene was awesome and I feel the writing actually hit a good point there. But people took Lost World as a lost cause in general and deemed it as another failure. I kinda agree on the sentiment that the story was NOT good and could’ve used revisions or an entire rewrite, but there were moments that definitely shined.

Forces is... Complicated. There’s a lot of things that could’ve been handled a lot better, like how nobody thought of using the Chaos Emeralds to fight Infinite when they would’ve been a perfect match against the Phantom Ruby and instead of the Avatar having to use Wisps, they could’ve been using Chaos Powers like in Sonic 06 or something like that. Eggman was also on point in the game too. Him taking over the world was cool to see and his super big death egg mechs were awesome.

So, ups and downs, but nothing that I would deem as dreadful, terrible and that it was a bad time to be a Sonic fan like how many people have said it was.

Y’know what is a bad time for me now? People praising a writer that’s only seen the Sonic comics for most of his life, MAYBE playing a few of the games and thus giving us completely out of character versions of Sonic, Shadow, Eggman, Amy and Silver. People praising the living shit out of this guy and saying that Frontiers is as good as it is right now when Ian’s most likely only done character dialogue and nothing relating to the story, or Roger’s new voice direction, or anything that would be the backbone of the game’s premise.

Or how about taking jabs at Sonic Team for not being able to include or do every single thing the fandom wants like playable Knuckles and Amy in Sonic Origins. You already got 4 games fully remastered for every single platform under the sun and you got Knuckles to be playable in Sonic 1, 2 and 3, but just because fans have the time and dedication to “fix” it up, they are just better than Sonic Team and Sega. Yes, they are improving the experience and it is awesome that we are this strong of a community to have achieved these kind of modifications and fixes that could rival a company’s way of patching the game later down the line, but it is different in terms of a company making a video game vs someone changing it that isn’t from a company.

They have deadlines, they might not be able to get things working as they intended, or there might be corporate heads messing shit up. I’ll always support fan creations whenever it be mods, romhacks and anything else people can come up with, but there should be respect towards the original developers as they are what provide the content we strive from. They are still people.

Almost everybody knows what happened with Sonic Omens and that game goes to show that NOT everything the fans do is going to be good, or better than what Sega pulls out and I feel people need to understand that. It also puts a lot of pressure on other creators, that they need to do better than Sonic Team or they’ll be shitted on, that they aren’t “up to standard” and that can spiral really quick.

In general, I feel people have been harsh with Sega and Sonic Team in general and although praise is going to them with Sonic Frontiers, a lot of aspects that could also be praised are instead going to Ian Flynn, since a lot of the fandom see him as a godsend, that nothing he does is wrong and that he is going to save this franchise, when it was already healing before he even intervened with the development of this game. It’s just that we didn’t really see it.

I dunno, this is a wall of text but I wanted to let out so many things that I’ve been feeling with the fandom as of late. Feel free to add anything if you want with a reblog or a comment.

[ladymochawrites]

Can...I get an eclair with a reader that has insomnia?

ECLAIR X !READER W/ INSOMNIA

pronouns preferred: they/them

topic: doing fluff; a reader who has insomnia and struggles to fall asleep

((I kinda made this a short-fic for this. I had also (kinda) rushed it too but hope you still likey! (: ))

It was already midnight. You were told by your true love that he would make it home by the time he was done grading class work and spiffing up the museum. Of course, Eclair works hard at his finest in order to make sure everything was in proper place, from ancient relics to common treasures, stored in glass containers. I guess you can say that he is very attention-to-detail when it comes to organization. You expect a little less time from him to lock up the doors and be making his way home. As time passes through, you begin to worry— leaving your eyes continuing to remain open, slight eye bags begin to appear as you stood there in bed, waiting for Eclair to make it home. The worrying on your face surprisingly was a type of ‘worry’ that when Eclair has been gone for a very long time, you assumed that he may have either gotten kidnapped or demolished quickly.

You suddenly felt your heart beginning to pound. You hoped that he was ok— to ensure that he doesn’t find himself lost. With it being pitch black, hopefully the moon will guide his way or keeping a lantern with him will also do the trick.

You begin to hear the door, chucking. You realized that it was Eclair coming home feeling exhausted. He comes in heavily filled with lots of paperwork and relics, all scrunched up in his leather messenger bag— as if he was dragging himself against the wall, losing his breath. You quickly walked over to the long-haired male, unhooking his bag to place on the chair and began to walk him over to the bedroom so he could get himself comfortable.

“Eclair, I’m so glad you’re ok! You had me worried. What took you so long?”

“My dear sweets, I’m so sorry for worrying you. I wanted to ensure everything was in its place. Yet, my class work took long enough to get completed. You know how hard a professor works.” He exhales in relief, softly patting your back, giving you a gentle kiss on your head.

You immediately begin to grab his pajamas. Preparing everything he needed for bed to wake up refreshed in the morning. Even though it was already today, might as well be later then.. Minutes later, Eclair had already pampered himself, putting his hair into a huge bun, from it dragging. And you begin to cuddle your way, wrapping your arms around him as he does the same.

“Hun, please don’t ever worry me again. You know how I can get. I only have trouble sleeping when you’re not around”

“Oh honey. Please forgive me. I definitely miss you when I can see you all day everyday at the academy. You know you’ll always hold a special place in my heart.” Eclair, brushing through your silk soft hair as you begin to fall asleep. And yet, it seem it had cured your insomnia.

“It looks like that corset of yours made you tired enough” You giggled as you begin to slip out your final sayings for the night, teasing him as he chuckled back.

“You have to admit, it sometimes does give a hard time to stretch out my back.”

As soon as you both fell into your slumbers, you were happy for now that he was able to make it back at a reasonable time. You didn’t like the fact from not being home for too long, but wished that every single day he could cradle you into his arms and talk about his history and relic stories while he goes on quests.

[ksen-noodles]

Random but- uh... pro and cons of using Photoshop or MSPAINT as an Art Program.

Strictly personal opinion that probably shouldn't be taken as advice:

Photoshop:

Pros: 1. Has layers! Omg yay :D

2. Very nice color wheel

3. Layer modes, and extensive color editing, and has brush modes too. You ALSO can add cool brushes and MAKE cool brushes

4. Gradients...

5. Filters go brr! Also the tools are Decent

6. Technically u can make gifs n animate, good luck figuring it out

Cons: 1. MY PC GOES EEEE immediately. me no likey :/

2. Expensive. That gets fixed by pirating the shit outta adobe. AND ALSO PHOTOPEA (the site)

3. SLOW. AS HELL . defeats it in a cool battle

4. It's hard to grasp :/ you gotta have experience w PC art programs. It's also better suited as a photo editing tool, so perfect for editing a finished work, not making one

5. No stabilizer! Good luck

6. Shit fill tool

Ms Pain:

Pros: 1. FAST. ITS SO FAST N EASY :D And intuitive ofc

2. It's like crunching a lil snacc but art... sometimes you eat a lunch's worth of snacks and then regret it tho lmao

3. FUN.

4. Funny Manga black+white mode

5. Pixel art!!!!!

6. Brush fills for shapes are super fun for bg,,,

Cons: 1. FFFFUCK there's no good brushes. Fuck around find out draw with a pencil or with a funny brush but fill EVERYTHING with it

2. No brush pressure aside from FEW CHOSEN brushes and tablets. They are literally mostly incompatible w ms paint

3. Shit tools

4. No layers!!!!!!!

5. No layer modes, brush modes, filters OR gradients GOOD LUCK SHAWTY

6. Art tends to look crunchy due to canvas size and brush physics :p

7. Serious art requires a lot of effort to look good. I mean it. It's a doodley space!!!

8. Oh the fill tool is shit in here too lmao

9. OH AND NO STABILIZER, NATURALLY

Drawpile:

Pros: 1. YAY STABILIZER

2. YAY DECENT FILL TOOL

3. Brush modes!!!!

4. Layers!!

5. ONION SHEETS. DECENT N QUICK ANIMATION PREVIEW. very basic tho. Not super good for animation. BUT ITS INTUITIVE YAY YAY YAY

6. YOU CAN DRAW WITH FRIENDS.

Cons: 1. NO WHY IS MY TRANSFORMATION TOOL SO SHITTY NOW

2. The layer options are. Poor.

3. No good brushes again :///

4. Tbh most tools and canvas redaction things are shitty but I can cope for the animation and shared canvas prospects

[toukenramblings]

NSFW Headcanons | Higekiri, Hizamaru, Uguisumaru

Warnings: We going to hell y’all, let’s go. Me projecting? More likey than you think. Bottom sword agenda. I thank the blog @toukenra for their genji bro brainrot and ideas.

(//▽//)

Higekiri

Both Genji bros are rather feral (see, fangs) but Higekiri is much softer than his little brother. There are times during the do when his instincts take over. Nips here and there, all for everyone to see.

  Yes he will leave hickies, yes he will be a smug little shit if someone notices them on you. Will also be smug if someone asks about HIS hickies. Cheeks will light up for a moment before smirking, “Ah, my darling did quite the number on me. Isn’t it lovely?”

 Higekiri is loud, there is no doubt about that. There have been one too many times of Hizamaru running into your room because he heard his brother screaming and then he screams in return because no.

  Is Tsurumaru levels of horny and kinky, it’s just Tsurumaru 2.0. Super easy to tell if he’s in the mood. His hands will brush against yours, drifting down to your sex, pinching your ass.

 He is also an ass man, and pinching or slapping said ass is a surefire way to tell he wants to be FRISKY. Slap and pinch his ass, he’ll let out a little needy whine that makes you want to pin him down and make him sob from pleasure.

   Also while he can be rather forward, he turns into a blushing mess if you try to do the same to him. Give him some of his medicine, he’ll die for a moment and then will get RIGHT BACK UP TO TEASE YOU MORE. It’s a teasing competition.

  Higekiri lets out the prettiest moans when he bottoms for you. He loves it when you pin him down and take what pleasure belongs to you. Whispers of praise falling from his lips. “You feel so fucking good, master~” “Please, please don’t stop.” “Do you see what you’re doing to me, love? How good you make me feel?”

·  Yes all sword bois have praise kinks, Higekiri prefers giving out praise.

·  It’s also pretty easy to convince him to bottom for you, he’s willing to do anything to get into your pants.

·   Tie him up in shibari. Please. Do it for me. He looks so pretty with red rope contrasting his pale skin and light-colored eyes and hair, with a deep blush accenting his cheeks, eyes blown from pleasure.

After care is cuddles. Nothing but cuddles. He’ll clean you up yeah but most of the time he’ll want nothing more than to pass the fuck out with you in his arms; pressing sweet kisses to your forehead and rocking you to sleep. Falls asleep first though.

  Will also love teasing you in public, will not hesitate to fuck you in a broom closet.

 Innocently comes to you with a question or a favor, and then pull out some lingerie or a toy from behind his back with the sweetest of smiles: “Will you wear this for me, darling?” DON’T CARE WHO IS AROUND.

 Man having Higekiri top is something else. Loves overstimulation to a high degree and loves it when you deny him pleasure and he’s just doing nothing but rutting against you, oh so desperate. But when he takes control? Sweet praises singing from his lips as he plows into you, nothing but marks decorating your entire body? His hands gripping yours, pinning them away from your face so he can hear you scream his name?

 “You’re taking my cock so well, love. Look at you, I wish you can see the way you look.” He whispers as he drags you into his lap, now facing a mirror. “Don’t you look so pretty like this? So fucked out for me?”

Hizamaru

 Remember when I said that the Genji bros are feral af? Yeah uh, Hizamaru got all of those feral genes. He’s going to make you everywhere. Chest, neck, thighs? All of em. Nowhere is safe from him and his fangs. If someone asks about your marks, expect Hizamaru to choke on air and flush; he can’t help it! He loves you so much that he lost himself!

· Is also really into biting and loves it when either of you suck each other’s fingers. Maybe has a bit of an oral fixation. Say goodbye to walking if you give him hickies though.

  Will bottom but it will take some convincing. He’ll be a sweetheart on the bottom, tending to your needs before his own. His mouth will always want to be connect to yours though, either kissing or just licking and biting your skin.

·  Isn’t as loud as his brother in bed, soft moans and gasps leaving his lips. A bit louder on the bottom though, cheeks flushed and drool coming out of the corner of his mouth, fangs glistening in the dim light.

It’s somewhat easy to tell if he’s in the mood. Hizamaru’s eyes will darken with lust when he looks at you for a moment, and then flush red and turn his head away, embarrassed with the naughty thoughts in his head. He might avoid you for a while, not having much confidence to go up to you and desperately ask you to bang. You have to gently coax him to do so.

 I say that but the minute he notices that you desperately want him as well? Oh honey, you’re not seen for a while. He will drag you two back to your room, cheeks still aflame before trapping you against the wall and taking you right then and there.

  Weak to you having something naughty under your clothing and letting him be the only one to notice.

·         He won’t tease you in public, it’s up to you for that. Whisper those naughty little things into his ear and make him weep.

Loves begging, bottom or top. “Please, please, let me cum! Please!” “Do you love it when I make you feel like this, master? Show me then. Beg for it.”

· He does love hearing your voice in bed, but will gag or (or himself) if it’s too loud. Most of the time will use your mouth on his to muffle each other. Won’t say no to gags though. Use that information as you will.

Scratch up his back, drag your nails across his skin. Mark him. Make him yours; whether on top or bottom. Hizamaru will shyly admit that he loves it when you mark him back for everything he does to you.

If he bottoms, will try his hide his moans from you. Tie him up. Pin him down. Drink in his moans like its air.

·  Very very much into oral, giving mostly. Loves it when he can see exactly what he does to you. Could spend an eternity between your legs and tasting your cream.

· Will be very shy if you give him oral in return. Again covering his mouth, but the way your eyes darken? Oh man, he may cum right then and there. Also the easiest to overstim.

  Cuddle bear for after care. Will wash you up and isn’t as lazy as his brother but does take him a moment to leave your side because he loves you and don’t wanna go!

Uguisumaru

 This man is so into body worship. Your body will be nothing but covered in hickies when he’s done with you.

Sure he doesn’t mind if they are showing to people but honey, he marks you UP. There are marks only he can see and worship, tongue running over your skin as he traces over each hickey he forms. It’s a map that he made on your skin, only for his eyes. People may try to find that treasure, but who is the one who found it in the first place and keeps it safe?

If you have scars or tats, expect him to always be kissing them. The first place his kisses is your heart (other than lips) and then wherever else. It’s poetic what he does to you.

Worship his body in return. His body is covered in golden scars from being repaired so many times. He moans and turns into a soft mess, hands tangling in your hair or gripping your shoulders.

 Comparing him to the Genji bros (Higekiri loud or Hizamaru quiet) Uguisumaru is somewhere in the middle. Sometimes letting out soft moans that could only be heard in the room, other times a gasp that echoes in whatever hall you two are fucking in.

Yeah he doesn’t mind public sex, he’s actually rather teasing. He’s a lot more subtle than Higekiri though. Sure he won’t pinch or slap your ass but there is some way that his eyes wander over yours, soft whispers only you can hear, and promises of a good night. And then he just goes back to doing whatever the fuck he was doing without a care in the world. RUDE.

Like Higekiri, he won’t mind using toys. But there is no way you are allowed to cum in public. He’s the only one allowed to see you cum and come undone.

 Don’t wanna admit it, but jealous sex is something he likes.

  Yeah praises don’t stop when he’s on the bottom honey. “You make me feel so good, master. Come here, touch me~” “Will you let me touch you, my most wonderful beloved? Please? I just want to make you feel as good as I do.”

  Your hands always have to be laced together during sex. No matter bottom, top, oral, cuddling, all the hand holding.

Always has aftercare prepped and ready before hand. A bottle of water, a soft damp towel to clean you, and clean sheets.

  Yes Uguisumaru is going to fuck you or have you fuck him on top of your desk. No he has no shame about it. Why would he? You are the one he loves.

   Loves it when you two suck on each other’s fingers.

  If someone notices a hickey on him, given to him by you, he beams. “Ah yes, they wanted to decorate my body just as much as I have done to them.”

  SAY GOODBYE TO WALKING IF HE TIES YOU UP. HE IS GONNA GO H A M

[hazelandglasz]

The Very Bad Week, Part 2

By popular demand, I’m continuing this self pleasing little nugget

As far as Blaine is concerned, this week has been a week.

Nothing remarkable about it, a succession of routines that have lead him to this Friday twilight.

He has nothing special planned for the week-end, except maybe go dog-watching at the park if the weather allows.

Blaine is not ecstatic, but he’s not miserable either and that’s a win, in his and in Ms. Ylea’s books.

To celebrate his, um, unmiserableness, Blaine went to the store and decided to let the Fates decide what kind of snacks he would get to watch his National Geographic show – slash – guilty pleasure.

Oh, Sweet and Spicy Pringles? Sounds like something that would remind him of his aunt’s Lutong Bisaya (from far, far away anyway).

“Noooooooooooooo!”

O-kay then, not a good omen.

Blaine slowly turns to face the person who really just screamed like a banshee and.

Well.

Blaine’s savior complex kicks in at the sight of the anguish on the man’s face, but it’s a little bit eclipsed as the “oh my god wow” settles in.

Because underneath the anguish and the end of the day unsettlement, the man who is now approaching Blaine like *he* is the skittish wild animal is frankly gorgeous.

Not now, brain. Very bad timing.

“Excuse me,” the man starts, getting close enough that Blaine can see the color of his eyes.

What do you know, it matches the lapel of his jacket, impressive.

Blaine likey.

“I’m sorry for my admittedly weird behavior,” the man continues, words tripping over his tongue. Blaine can only smile at him, hopefully putting him at ease, “but I had a very bad week, and it’s my favorite snack, and–”

“It’s okay,” Blaine cuts in, his mind made. It’s not a very hard decision to make after all: he just wanted to try the snack; on the other hand, this man looks to be on the verge of a meltdown, and that would be a disgrace. “I’ve been there.” Oh boy has Blaine ever. Just last week he nearly sobbed of relief after finding half a frozen bitten pint of salted caramel pretzel ice cream from Auntie Maud’s kitchen. “Take it.”

“R-really?”

Yep, that’s hope and despair all rolled into one beautiful package of a man, one that Blaine would love to take home and protect forever.

But that would be insane.

Wouldn’t it?

As he hands over the can of Pringles, Blaine’s fingers brush against the stranger’s. Blaine has never been one for believing in reincarnations and soulmates, as hopelessly romantic as he may be, but the tingles that travel through his fingers to his neck are undeniable.

It’s like …

Like his body is remembering the man’s touch from a past life.

The man still looks unsure about it, even as he takes his beloved Pringles. Blaine has to, he has to soothe his fears.

“I just wanted to try it, but it can wait,” Blaine explains, barely stopping him in time before he reaches out to pat the man’s shoulder. “You need them.” Obviously.

Seriously, the man looks he’s on the verge of tears.

That’s it, Blaine has to do something. “Hey.”

The man looks back at Blaine, and there is a wet shine in those blue eyes that only precede tears. “Hm?”

“Are you–“ Blaine shakes his head, trying to rephrase. “Clearly you’re not okay, but are you, you know, okay?”

The man takes a deep breath before a river of words come out. “I’ve been having a hard time, I miss my dad, Ohio is too far, my friends are all busy and I don’t want to be a burden …”

Hold on. Blaine needs to stop that logorrhea before it devolves into a panic attack, and he just heard the right angle. “You’re from Ohio?”

That stops the man in his tracks. “Lima.”

Blaine can’t help but beam at the Pringles Aficionado. “Westerville.”

“No way.”

“Way.”

They exchange a smile, wrapped in a bubble of space and time that Blaine never wants to leave. “My name is Blaine.”

Blaine has been raised right, he offers his hand to shake in greetings with his …. His what? His soulmate? His new best friend, sorry Wes?

Never mind.

Pringles Addict looks down at Blaine’s hand like no one has ever offered to shake his hand before taking it. “Oh. K-Kurt.”

Kurt. That suits him.

Even though Blaine knows close to nothing about the man, he just knows that Kurt, strtaight to the point, elegant, giving slightly European vibes, yes, Kurt is a name that suits the man shyly smiling at him.

“Nice to meet you, Kurt,” Blaine says warmly. “I hope that the Pringles will do the trick,” he adds for good measure. Now would be the good time to leave and let Kurt treat himself to the Pringles to soothe away the ache of this week. Blaine can’t resist, though, and he winks at Kurt before walking away.

Hold on. He was supposed to get a snack, wasn’t he?

Oh, flavored popcorns, now there’s an idea.

Oh! Sour Cream N Chives popcorn? Now that’s definitely out of the box.

Sour Cream N Chives Popcorn it is then.

“Blaine!”

Blaine practically spins on the spot to face Kurt once more.

The dizziness he experiences may not entirely be blamed on his antics.

“Really,” Kurt says, taking a step closer to Blaine and wow, those pale freckles look adorab—

What is wrong with him.

Oops, can of worms.

But Blaine’s thoughts are not heard by Kurt, and the other man continued. “You have been kinder than I could expect any stranger to be, that—that means a lot.”

“I’m glad I could show you some kindness today,” Blaine says, while his brain runs like a hamster in its wheel, specifically about showing Kurt kindness every hour of every day, given the chance.

“Do you—,” Kurt starts, before biting his lips and looking away.

Dammit, that shouldn’t be as cute as it is.

“Yes?”

Kurt looks back at him. “Doyouwanttohangoutsometimes, oh God, thatwasawkward, I’m so sorry.”

“Kurt?”

“Hm?”

“I didn’t quite catch your words, except for the sorry at the end.”

Kurt sighs, closing his eyes. Blaine waits patiently for him to get his bearings (and adds a bag of marshmallows to his purchase, because while he does want to add an element of surprise in his routine, marshmallows are comfortable and comforting).

“I asked if you, um,” Kurt starts, more slowly this time, “if maybe you would like to hang out. With me. Sometimes. We could—eurgh,” Kurt cuts himself off, racking his hand in his hair. “You seem like an interesting, decent man and I had this urge to not let you go just yet.”

“Oh.”

“Sounds crazy?”

“Sounds like nothing I’ve heard before,” Blaine admits. Truth be told, it is the sweetest thing someone has ever said to him.

Not taking into consideration David’s drunken admittance that “he wished he was gay for Blaine”, especially since Blaine pinky swore never to bring it up again.

Ahem.

“I won’t bother you any longer, you’ve already been more than gentle with me,” Kurt says, turning around.

“Wait!”

Kurt does stop, looking over his shoulder.

Blaine’s heart is trying to escape his ribcage, but that’s fine. “If you’re interested, I know a shortcut to a little park where we could share our snacks and you could tell me more about your very bad week?”

Kurt’s face lights up, and just for that sight, Blaine would …

He would…

Well, he would do whatever it took to bring that look on Kurt’s face.

But Blaine is getting ahead of himself, isn’t he?

(TBC?)

[whiskehorange]

Howdy! I can't stop writing to you so here we go! The Largos brothers, Nathan, fuck it Hexxus, our dumb ghostface duo, and the Auditor with a top goth male S/O that love to speak to them in Spanish and mercilessly teasse them. I'd imagines the love languages of Spanish and Italian mixing/confusing both parties at times. Adios.👋

all these boys mmmmMM

Luigi

Luigi by far is the most aggressive Italian, but there is just something about you sweet talking to him in Spanish that just calms him right down and makes him just fall even more in love with you

You’re intimidating to a lot of his assistants, but you can be sure that if you need it you’ve got it. The two of you are an absolute power couple, brushing through all the lines, all the crowds and being just about first in ever line of everything. Waiting? What’s that?

The teasing, good lord. It flusters Luigi to no end to hear your smooth voice speak to beautifully to him. While he’s not the best at the whole sweet talking thing, he can’t help but just grab you and hold you close to him, listening to your compliments

Pavi

Pavi speaks Italian more frequently than Luigi does, seeing that it really swoons the people into loving and adoring him when they hear him. But at the same time he’s no match for your loving personality and smooth talking

The two of you seem to only exchange sweet nothings and pokes at each other in Spanish and Italian. Pavi is always so handy and ready to go, but adding your teasing to the mix just makes it so much better

Your fashion… however… do you have anything else in your closet that he by chance could wear as well? He’s such a little rebel against Rotti, doing whatever the hell he likes along with his brother, but much more interested in his looks

You’re showered in compliments about how you look and how stunning you are. If it were up to him, the two of you would be the faces to GeneCo. Maybe… just maybe he’ll see if Rotti likes that idea

Nathan

Your sense of style is like Shilo on steroids, but he would be lying if he said you couldn’t pull it off. Always coming home with something that he thought would fit your ‘aesthetic’ in hopes of making you smile

By far the most flustered by your teasing. He’s a man to swoon at just seeing an ankle exposed, and you in that choker and ripped jeans just does something to him. Adding that accent to it does not help his case

He’s taken classes in Spanish when he was younger, so he understands what you’re saying, but sometimes out in public you just get under his skin, in a very good way. His face flushes out in red, trying not to make it obvious to the people around him

Hexxus

You’ll have your work cut out for you whenever you’re around Hexxus. If you though you’d always come out as the top teaser of the relationship, you’re wrong. The King of Tease, as he calls himself, and he let’s you know it

Although it’s very easy to fluster him and get him worked up, just instead of getting quiet and fidgety, he hits you right back with something over the top. You’ll be practically growing red for him

The Spanish, however just turns him on to no end. He finds it just too hot to keep his hands to himself whenever you whisper to him and eye him up. Oh honey, you have no idea what you’ve got yourself into

Billy

You know when you have affectively gotten to Billy when he gives you a little grin and some side eyeing. He adores it when you whisper to him and run your hands up and down his arms

He normally doesn’t tease you back too much, just wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close to him to kiss the side of your head

But your look? Good god he just cannot get over how badass you look. Would you mind if he borrowed a leather jacket sometime though? He thinks it would be a good little way for him to match you. Of course, he doesn’t have the whole shabang but, a jacket should work nicely in his favor

Stu

Stu is a handful whether you like it or not, and teasing him does not make it any better. He isn’t quiet about it either. While half the time he has no idea what the hell you are saying, he likes how you’re saying it so that’s that

If the two fo you are out in public he has absolutely no shame in teasing you loudly and making it just a bit too obvious to whoever is around. Poor them, Stu can say some pretty weird shit...

He demands that you give him an entire makeover however. I mean clothing, accessories and make up if you’re really feeling up to it. Anything to make him look as dope as you do 

The Auditor

He adores the Goth appeal you give off. It’s something he can get used to fairly quickly. Ya know the whole working for Hell thing can get a bit boring and gruesomely annoying, so seeing you in this dark way is certainly something new that he loves

But boy let me tell you how flustered he gets whenever you sweet talk to him. For one thing, he can’t remember he’s even had someone he was interviewing try to ‘hit’ on him to get out, so this... this is something he likey

Don’t be surprised if he comes back at you when he’s feeling a little bit brave with his own sweet talking in Spanish. He’s been around long enough to know languages that haven’t been spoken for hundreds of years

[shaonsim]

Your take on grey characters 😈

An excellent question, and let me preface it with the fact that although I believe that every person is morally grey, I am also of the opinion that there is a difference between a grey person and a grey character. Fiction is always a little on-your-nose with everything, and a character with grey shades will have their complexities highlighted quite strongly, more often than not, as a direct contrast to a 'pure' white, positive character. And by doing that, fiction downplays the grey shades of the character standing on the moral high ground and that's really interesting and totally irrelevant to the answer, but I wrote it in anyway, because it fascinates me and kind of ties in with the stuff I hope to explore in the later parts of this answer, so, just hold on, I guess.

Let me also just point out, that fiction, as it says, is, and always will be, a little detached from reality. While it is true that fiction does not exist in a vacuum, it is a way for us to escape our worldly troubles and perhaps that's why sometimes serious issues get brushed under the carpet to give everyone a happy ending. It's an utopian world. And I bring this up because grey characters receive a lot of acceptance that they might not receive had they been real, flesh and bones, human beings. They also receive a lot of flak for not fitting into the 'good box', because more often than not, grey characters are show leaning towards the good side, as in, their actions directly or indirectly support the protagonists, or, in some cases, they go against the antagonist, thus leaving them on shaky ground. People would cry that they are being whitewashed (which, although it pains me to admit it, they are, but again, fiction is an utopia, even if we are talking about a zombie apocalypse).

Anyway, this too is confusing and I am terribly sorry for this disorganised mess of an answer you have to read through.

Forgive moi?

Okay, let's get back to the topic of grey characters. In the recent few years, I have come to sort 'grey characters' into different categories. So I'll just quickly (ha!) go over that.

GREY CHARACTER™

The characters who are introduced with the grey tag, by the creators themselves (or, in case of literary works, are addressed as grey by the writer(s) once the book is published and people have read it). Their moral ambiguity is their core feature, their whole personality is shaped up around that little nugget of information. The narrative gives them a layered, intriguing character traits (and a lot of snark - like, a lot of it), intricate backstories (and past trauma!!!) that remain hidden behind a facade of casual disinterest in everything that exists on our beautiful Earth, and we get snippets where they are being genuinely affectionate with their people, or where other, minor characters share a cordial, if not a little personal, relationship with them.

^ Another great way is to show them being polite to the staff, drivers and/or salespeople, that makes them likeable.

And it is extremely necessary that they are likeable, because these characters do plenty of questionable things. Some of their actions might even fall under the 'bad' category, where they commit crimes and plan to destroy lives (most of the time the plan fails, or they actively do something to redeem themselves with respect to that particular event, because they are grey characters, not the devil incarnate trope they go for when it comes to the villains and vamps).

Also, this type of a grey character is usually written in with a host of other characters, for whom the character will cross every limit, and a group of characters, with whom our grey character crosses all boundaries. The second group is the intended target, and the creative outlet for writing the morally questionable things that make a character grey™.

Usually, this type of a grey character gets one out of the three kinds of endings outlined below ⬇️

Grey™ but softer

Where they continue to do questionable things, but less frequently, or with less intensity. Nice trope. Moi likey.

Platinum grey, but grey™ if necessary

The go-to if they are the protagonist. I will explain about the 'platinum grey' bit later on, but this is essentially, this character has fulfilled (or abandoned) his course of doing questionable things, but if push came to shove, will not hesitate to destroy some lives. My favourite (♥️)

And the worst kind of ending - whitewashing

There is a difference between accepting the consequences of your actions, repenting for it (or not, both can work, but you have to acknowledge what you did), and justifying it because 'hey, look! I did one good thing in my life, I am pure™, love me!! ' This is my least favourite trope.

((can you guess which ending I have planned for Dhruba?))

TEAM GREY

This type of grey is usually reserved for influential side characters. Influential, in the sense that they contribute to the plot, and have relationship ties that leave a heavy impact on the story. My favourite people. These characters are not given the tag of 'grey', but they move from one camp to another, with their actions and thoughts that move the story forward. They don't switch sides, that's another type. These characters don't change teams because they want to support one side against the other. No, their actions are fueled by their own motivations, and that's what makes them special. They are often overlooked because of Grey ™ characters, but I love them so much.

THE FAKE GREY (AKA DAL BADLUS)

The narrative tries to make us perceive these characters as grey, and in their haste, they make these characters change teams every now and then, and the characters lose all credibility. They differ from 'team grey' in the sense that the reasoning behind them choosing sides is flimsy at best, non-existent at worst. They are inconsistent and ugh, how I hate inconsistencies. What irks me the most is that the narrative doesn't even try to establish them as complex characters (which isn't that hard, humans are complex!!!)

SUPPOSEDLY WHITE BUT OOPS I AM GREY NOW, PLEASE KEEP LOVING ME

I love these characters, if they are executed properly. Tons of potential. The story always reminds us that these characters are supposedly white, but their actions (or reactive action because of the circumstances/events brought on by the grey™) and I love to see them spiral out of control and become complex, layered characters. And if they have comic potential, then I am squealing with joy. Love these people. 

((spoiler alert: this is my Agni))

GREY BECAUSE I STAND IN THE NO MAN'S LAND BETWEEN BLACK AND WHITE

Love, love, love them! Love characters who are not inherently evil and who do not engage in criminal activity, but also, they are not pure and white and good™ and they have their fair share of character flaws. They do lots of wrong things, but nothing destructive. All the love ❤️

((spoiler alert: this is my plan with Chandni))

I HAVE TRAVELLED FAR FROM THE GREY ZONE BUT I AM NOT TOTALLY BLACK, BELIEVE ME

Negative characters with plenty of redeeming traits, and a strong (and emotionally manipulative) reason behind their wrongdoings, with their motivation exploited by the antagonists. Can be very interesting if done well, and even the simplest of tracks is better than the plain old everyone is evil unless they are the protagonist (and their supporters). 

((spoiler alert: My rendition of Manju)) 

GREY BECAUSE I HAVE FALLEN FROM MY PEDESTAL FOR GREATNESS AND I AM NO LONGER WHITE ™

Another favourite. Genuinely good characters who do that one wrong thing, but it's pretty big and affects the plot in a bad way and that kind of behavior cannot go unchecked because we need to prove a point. Tons of potential. 

((spoiler alert: My rendition of Kakai)) 

<< are you tired of me screaming about my plans for the Fic Which Must Not Be Named? Sorry, not sorry 😈 >>

THE WORLD COULD NOT HANDLE MY GREATNESS, I AM GREY NOW 

Pure, sweet, soft characters who see the world for what and now they are either a very soft grey (as in their negative side comes out quite often, but it doesn't affect the story all that much) or a very manipulative person. Love this trope! 

((Deepti is a soft grey character, but that's more because she is bitter and she points that bitterness towards herself. Meghna, on the other hand, flits in and out of this trope))

TOO COOL TO BE WHITE, TOO SANE TO BE DARK 

All the snark! Brutally honest, mature, logical people who are cool™ and who do lovely, manipulative stuff. We stan! 

(( Ranja from my ff, not Ranjabati the warrior princess)) 

PLATINUM GREY (AKA SELF-DESTRUCTIVE ™) 

The protagonist, often used as narrative foil to the Grey™ or vice versa. They are portrayed as good and pure™ but have plenty of grey character traits that either get glossed over or are shoved into the cupboard to highlight the differences between the grey character and the protagonist. They also have serious self destructive tendencies where they ruin their lives on purpose and this is often complemented by a generous helping of saviour complex. Like, all the love for these characters. They are supposed to be white, but aren't, but they do shine bright, even if their flaws are sharp and in your face, like a cloudy sky that is a terribly cold, sharp white. I choose to use the word platinum because that's what comes to my mind when I try to visualise their place in the shade card of life, the color of a platinum band. This is my favourite trope when it comes to protagonists. Love them. ♥️

((Tara, Prabha, and Meghna - PLATINUM BABES))

Now that we have covered the type of grey characters in fiction (my brain is fried and I might have missed some, sorry! Feel free to reblog with your additions!!), let me tell you how much I love grey characters. I would choose them every time, as opposed to characters who can be neatly sorted into the black and white categories.

Every. Time.

We need more grey characters in fiction, especially the soft greys and the team grey ones. And we need to appreciate grey characters for how amazing they are!!!

In conclusion, I love grey characters (but you already know that, don't you? Come on Babe, you have known me long enough, you know how crazily excited I get about grey characters) and I need more of them ♥️♥️♥️

[ stuff for my 100th celebration ]

[noeliareads]

Penpals? Chapter 2

Chapter 2: 

November, 2017 

After about 2 weeks of preparation (waiting for a paycheck) Arizona had almost everything ready for her box. All she had to do was write the letter. 

*Dear Jinho, I don’t have words to express how grateful I am for everything you sent me. I actually feel bad because I don’t send as much. But here are a few of my favorite things from America. I really hope you like them. The SNSD mug? I use it everyday for my morning coffee. (she printed out a photo of the mug on her side table) The tea is incredible! Jinho, everything is incredible and I can’t thank you enough! 

By the way, how are you? How is South Korea? I hope you’re doing ok as well as your friends. I am ok, just a little bit stressed with school. Our final exams are in about a month and believe me I am not ready. Oh! I haven’t introduced myself. As you already know my name is Arizona, I am 20 years old and I am a music major in college. That’s something we have in common, music. I wanted to become a music major because I would love to be a music teacher in a university. I feel like my acquired skills would be exploited there. I really don’t know what to say about myself. My favorite colors are moss green and beige. I cannot write with normal ballpoint pens. I know. It’s weird. Fountain pens are a blessing and they are the best thing in the world.*

***

Bang Chan was in his room working on some mixtapes when he heard Jisung yell. 

“YA! We got a package for Bang Jinho. Who is Bang Jinho?”

Bang Chan threw his laptop on his bed and almost slipped on the wood floor, running to where Jisung was.   

“Nae goesida!” It’s mine! He said. He yanked the… box? A box? And ran to his room, locking the door behind him, leaning on it as if one of his band mates were to break it down. It has happened before... 

He clutched his chest regaining his breath. He took a seat on the floor and curiously examined the box, it had the typical shipping label. He didn’t spare a minute so he opened the box with his bare hands. Inside the box were a variety of American sweets. He found a mug with the american flag on it, post-its of the american flag… There were a lot of things with the american flag. Very.. touristy. Still, he thought it was cute. He saw a light blue envelope and grabbed it. It was time to read what she said. 

Dear Jinho…

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*I have no siblings, sadly. I am an only child so I grew up alone sometimes. But that’s ok. I don’t mind being alone sometimes. I find comfort in being alone. Oh! I listened to the songs you sent me. Ok, let me gather my thoughts. 

Likey: It’s so catchy and I watched the video as well and now I can’t stop doing the hand movements from the beginning! My best friend Nick, laughs and teases me because I will do it without realizing it. I will have to check out more of Twice’s music, they seem very promising. 

You Are by Got7: I have heard of them but never got into their music yet. This was until you told me to listen to this song. I like this song. It’s has a beautiful melody. I like how it builds up and I didn’t expect the chorus to sound like that! I know kpop involves a lot of rapping but that “IT’S A BEAUTIFUL SKYYY” Dude. That buildup. Wow. 

Matryoshka: I don’t even know where to begin. Who are these people?? I mean, I downloaded Soundcloud because you mentioned it and I was blown away. They are amazing! The first rapper has such a chill flow. It’s like he’s not trying but it sounds good either way! The second one? He’s good, too good. And the third one? Oh Lord. I really hate you right now. Who the hell has that type of voice? I figured it was him who accentuated the MAAAAAAAATRYOSHKA. And wow, just wow. Thank you for showing me these amazing rappers. I have to look into them more! 

Lastly, Be Lazy. I have like 2 things to say. THE BASS. THE BASS. Thank you. I like them so much. THE BASS.*

The letter was two pages long and Chan enjoyed reading all of it. She seemed like a very animated person. She seemed to be happy about the simplest things and that weirdly made him smile. 

FAST FORWARD TO DEBUT ERA. Chan and Arizona have exchanged a few letters (shipping time and Chan’s schedule). But they became great friends in the short amount of time they’ve corresponded to each other. They kept trading on songs, Chan loved or dislikes the ones she sent and same went for her. In future v-lives, he would play some of the songs he told her to listen to. But, one thing was for sure. Chan converted Arizona into a newer generation K-pop lover. Chan told her that 3racha were actually part of a survival show that basically consisted of working hard to be able to debut together. He also never told her that he was Bang Chan. But, he did tell her that he was working hard in order to get a job as a backup dancer for idol groups.  

March:  Chan to Arizona (They just debuted)

*Zo, I am so happy! I GOT THE JOB! I wish I could tell you all about it but I can’t!*

Arizona to Chan

*No way! Jinho that is amazing! I am so happy for you! I know how much you worked for this! Whenever you get to dance on stage let me know so I can watch you.* Chan sighed as he read her response. She will see him, but she won’t know who he is.  

Fastforward

Months go by and Stray Kids have won multiple rookie awards. Thanks to Chan, Arizona has gone head over heels for them. She will rant about them in her letters and fangirl with him.

*Jinho… I know I sent you your letter and you probably received it yesterday or a few days ago but this is an emergency. SKZ DROPPED ANOTHER VIDEO!  BTW, You have to see the street version of  Insomnia. THEY WERE IN THE US I MEAN WHAT THE HELL! This is why I hate being a college student. No money. And, 10 days later they release the street version of Question? Do they want to kill me. Changbin and Hyunjin body rolling killed me! They all killed me. I really can’t thank you enough for introducing me to them. #PROUDSTAY*

For the release of their album I Am Who, Chan sent her an album. He wanted it to be autographed but he couldn’t explain how he made that possible. Either way she has his handwriting in paper so that counts? The boys knew about her, not much but they did know he was corresponding with a girl from America. Either way, she has his handwriting. Arizona in return, sent him an ASAP Rocky album! That made Chan very very happy. 

Life suddenly was brighter for Arizona. She always had a hard time seeing the bright side in life and being positive was extra effort. But corresponding with Chan helped her breathe with ease. He was her escape room. She could tell him everything and she knew that he wouldn’t judge her. He would always offer words of comfort and advice. There were times where she would vent about how hard her classes were or how her  mental health deteriorates day by day.  Chan wasn’t bothered by this. He wished for her to be happy and free in her own mind. He would occasionally send her various letters in the span of a few days or less. He knew she wasn’t expecting it and he hoped it made her smile, which it did. 

They were so used to corresponding to each other that friendship slowly and silently became something else. Arizona once debated about it but she brushed it off. It can’t be possible and it won’t be. Letters were romantic and that is the stigma that is around it and that’s all. There is nothing more to it. Chan thought of her constantly when he wasn’t busy with producing, practicing or anything related to the group. He knew he liked her, did he have the opportunity to ask for a picture? He did. But he didn’t ask. He would feel obliged to send her one of himself and he couldn’t do that. It was enough with lying about his job. 

FEBRUARY - 2019 

“I am soooooooo tired.” Arizona complained as she walked into the same coffee shop she frequented with Nick over the course of their college years. Both were seniors now, graduating in May! 

“All nighter?” Nick asked? She just nodded and smiled at the barista giving her their order. 

“You’re a master procrastinator. What were you doing?”

“Working on my senior project and portfolio.” She mumbles taking a seat and resting her head on the table. Nick didn’t miss how she avoided his eyes. 

“And probably writing J’s letter right?” Arizona looked up at her best friend and smiled. It was true, she was working on less than 2 hours of sleep, writing the letter and working on her project. “Zozo, you like him don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. It was an affirmation. 

“Nick, stop.” She wasn’t ready to face this topic yet. Like him? Pff. She’s never seen him before. “We’ve never met and probably never will. Ok? Drop it.”

“You don’t have to like or love his looks.” Arizona knew that and she knew what danger she was in of falling harder and faster for Jihno. She just wasn’t ready for it. 

Arizona arrived home after her evening lessons and collapsed on the couch. She was just dozing off when her mom threw some papers on her stomach. “You have mail” She said. The sleepy girl sat up and flipped through the envelopes. Phone bill, student loan information, a postcard?  

“Australia? I don’t know anyone in Australia.” She turned the postcard around and smiled when she recognized the handwriting. 

*Hey Zo, sorry this is going to be short. But, I am in aussie visiting family. I won’t be able to read any of your letters until I get home but I will write! Just make sure to send your responses  to my normal address. I am so happy to see my family again, I actually came with a few of my friends and we are just touring around. I also heard Stray Kids are going to be here! I’ll see if I can go to their concert or spot them at the touristy sites. If I do, I’ll send photos. Take care. 

Jinho.*

Her heart fluttered. He knew how much she loved Stray Kids that he would even look for them for her! The days flew by and she received an envelope. It contained a post-it and multiple photos. The note said, ‘Found them.’ The photos were of Stray Kids near the Sydney Opera House. Wait, he found them? The photos seemed to be taken from afar and the boys were with cameras? Filming a video? Arizona died right there. He went all the way to find them, take their picture, develop them and send them to her. 

Chan’s Perspective

Chan asked his manager to take photographs of them as they filmed and as if they were fans who spotted them. Manager Kim (let’s say that’s his name) agreed without asking for a reason. Chan quickly developed them and sent them before going back to South Korea. He was dying to tell her who he was. After all, he was her bias. Not that it made any difference. Sadly he still couldn’t, Stray Kids were going to be extremely busy in the next month and he feared not to have time to write so he made sure he had conversations planned out so she wouldn’t feel lonely. He also had the feeling that this comeback was going to be important for their careers. 

His last letter ended with; ‘Zo, I won’t be able to write as much because I will be dancing for a group for their comeback so we will be very busy practicing. But, I will try to write as much as possible. Don’t miss me.” 

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Hey guys this was more of a filler chapter. I hope you get an idea of how the story is going to go.  There will hopefully be two more chapters, I still don’t know how I will space them out. Next chapter is going to be about the Miroh and Yellow Wood era. Arizona also graduates college and there is a big surprise that will lead to the last chapter. 

Playlist?

Adios - Everglow

Teeth - 5 Seconds of Summer

Wanna Go Back - Day6 

Mirror - Stray Kids

These are the pictures Chan sends to Arizona.