#it’s not morning by the time i’m posting this

[meelusinee]

A WHIMSICAL DEAL ✩ T.N NOTT X READER

in which theodore meets you at a Slytherin party and can’t get you out of his head

pairing: theodore nott x whimsical!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none!

author’s note: double post day today!!! major note here is that the formatting is just a wee bit different because i will be publishing this from my phone rather than my laptop like i usually do. it died and i left the charger at a friend’s house, but i shall be back up and running to my full aesthetics and work by tomorrow morning! other than that, enjoy!

A WHIMSICAL DEAL | THEODORE NOTT X READER

Theodore hasn’t set up a Slytherin party in almost a month because of exams.

That was something that had to change.

He and Mattheo had snuck into Honeydukes through the Hidden Eye passage, The barrel was hard to lift, but easy to sneak into the dorms under a simple Illusion Charm.

The tables were hidden in a small hole in the wall Lorenzo made, his expertise in bartending coming in handy as he set up a minibar for the party. No free drinks would ever pass under his eye, not unless either him or his friends wanted a good lay-in for the night.

For the most part, it was Slytherins at this party. Either that, or houses that were in the know.

Luna Lovegood was the most recent addition to the Slytherin’s main party squad. Ever since her and Blaise began dating, she started to visit the parties more and more to help set up and clean. While Mattheo and Theo weren’t so sure about it at first, the drink combinations she ended up making had gotten at least 20 more party-goers.

One of them being you.

Theodore had noticed you almost as soon as you entered the Common Room. You had a certain aura about you that he just couldn’t not notice, elegance he had never seen in anyone else he ever met in his life.

He had almost dropped his drink right then and there, quickly regaining his composure as he approached you. Enzo was going to have a field day with him. “Can I get you a drink, lovely?”

“A drink?” you giggled softly, hand resting on your hip. You looked so magical within the Slytherin lighting, something almost ethereal or radiant shining off of you. “I believe that you have Whorpflasters whispering in your ears.”

“Whorpflasters?” Theo asked incredulously, voice coming out more nervous than he intended.

“Yes, Whorpflasters!” you repeated, nodding slowly. “They’re very rude. Usually they whisper insecurities in your mind, especially around settings you’re not particularly comfortable with. Are you okay with being at this part?”

“Uh,” he whispered, a small blush creeping on his face. “Yeah, I’m good here.”

“Perhaps it’s exams.” you nodded, patting his head. “I think that you passed them with flying colors, if the Querbs following you are any tell.”

Theo nodded incredulously at that, watching you smile that whimsical smile before you walked off to get a drink. Enzo had winked at him when he saw you walking over, pointing his head to Blaise and Luna standing over his shoulder.

“Theodore, hello!” Luna said to him. She had whimsy about her too, though it just wasn’t the same as yours. Nothing he could think of seemed to compare to you.

“Hey there Luna.” he nodded, swallowing a bit of his drink before looking back at you.

“Have you met Y/N?” Luna asked, waving to Blaise as he walked off to talk to Mattheo and Draco.

“Uh,” he whispered, staring at you before looking back. “Yeah, yeah I met her. She said that I have Whorpflasters in my ear from exams, and Querbs following me around.”

“Well, do you?” Luna asked, her head leaning back and forth as she seemingly examined him.

“I have no idea what Querbs even are.” Theo whispered, hopelessly looking back at you again. You were standing at the end of the bar waiting for your drink, completely out of place yet fitting in all at the same time.

“They’re spirits attracted to intelligence.” Luna said to him simply, taking a small sip of her drink. “Though it seems that you’re also being visited by their cousins, Uerbs. Rather recently too.”

“The difference being?” Theo asked, looking at Luna incredulously.

“They follow people who have fallen in love.” Luna smiled, raising her glass slightly before walking over to where you were standing at the bar.

Theo was screwed.

“Luna said that you wanted to talk to me.”

Theo turned around as soon as he heard your voice, blinking in confusion when he saw you.

The both of you were currently in the library, Theo standing by one of the windows while he waited for Blaise. Blaise, who was supposedly meant to be meeting him for a small party reconstruction.

He quickly realized that this meeting was not about party reconstruction. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t take advantage of it though.

“Oh,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “Yeah, I wanted to ask you about Querbs.”

“Oh, Querbs!” you said, clasping your hands together. “Yes, they’re creatures from intelligence. They’re said to come from Phoenixes, their ashes are full of life and often produce a spark of it. It’s very miniscule and hard to detect, especially with the increasing levels of Phoenix endangerment.”

“That sounds very dangerous.” Theo agreed, subconsciously pulling a chair out for you before sitting down himself. “Why is that?”

“Well, that’s because of their feathers.” you explained to him. “Poachers love the fire they create, oftentimes a small lint from the feather can be used in extremely dangerous bombs. Two single feathers could blow up half of Hogwarts if the bomb is made correctly.”

“That’s,” he paused. “Really powerful.”

“Very much so.” you nodded. “Querbs come from those small sparks that feather lints leave. Of course, there’s also Uerbs. And then there are Xuerbs, but those are rare.”

He had heard about Uerbs, and quite frankly did not want to approach that topic. “What are Xuerbs?”

“They’re like baby Dementors in a sende.” you hummed. “Like Whorpflasters, but worse.”

“That doesn’t sound pleasant,” he said. “Is it?”

“No.” you shook your head. “But, there are much more pleasant creatures out there. Liborati are rather unique, they feel off of herbal plants in a way that is often rather good for them.”

Theo smiled softly as you explained how Liborati helped plants develop magical energy, and eventually went into more details about Querbs. He watched as you pulled out small books and read him passages, clearly very enthusiastic to explain this all to someone.

Theo questioned whether anyone else had ever bothered to listen, though he felt his brain short-circuit the moment your hand met his.

Maybe Uerbs weren’t so bad after all.

Theo and Luna currently were at the linrary together, both of them having been sent on a mission to get snacks for a sick Blaise. Why Theo was invited, he wasn’t sure.

“How are you and Y/N coming along?”

Now he was sure.

“What exactly is meant to be coming along between us?” Theo asked curiously, his hands in his pockets as he walked.

It had only been a week since he met you at the party, but he had already fallen head over heels. It was absolutely impossible to hide from anyone who truly knew him, especially since he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

No matter where he went, he couldn’t not think of you. Drinking, partying, sleeping, or doing schoolwork, you were always there on his mind. Sometimes he’d pretend that he was talking to you in order to keep himself sane, repeating your ramble on Uerbs and Querbs and Whorpflasters in his mind for hours at a time.

Even still, he hadn’t particularly asked you anything. Just about things you liked.

“You have more Uerbs developing by the second whenever you hang out with her, I found an infestation of them near your pillow.” Luna said. “Do you dream of her that often?”

“What is it with you two and being able to read people through creatures?” Theo groaned, looking down at the floor as he spoke. “Me and her are, well, I’m working on it. I can’t see things like you do, so you’re going to have to give me a moment.”

“You are quite lost.” Luna said calmly, her hands moving to open the door to Honeydukes. “I felt you’d want to know she has Uerbs following her around too. They’ve grown quite fond of you.”

Theo sighed softly as he stomped his foot a bit impatiently, hoping that nobody else would walk out of the tower but you.

He was currently standing in front of the doors of the Ravenclaw Tower. Or at least, what would be a door. It was a statue of a bird which obnoxiously asked riddles he didn’t have any time for, so he offered to stand and wait for you.

Though that idea seemed to be wearing off completely. That was until you walked out

“Theo?” you asked, your eyes darting up and down him. He had done his hair just a bit nicer than usual. He was wearing a suit, albeit rather tame, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. Along with all of that, he somehow seemed to find a limited edition of the book you had been wanting to read for ages, a signature from the author directly on the cover.

“I want to take you out on a date.” he whispered, holding the objects out to you. There was a large blush covering his face, eyes darting to the floor. “Will you, maybe, go on a date with me?”’

“Theo, I,” you whispered, looking at him incredulously before giggling softly. “Have you noticed my Uerbs too then?”

“I,” he whispered before nodding as he remembered what Luna said. “Yeah, I did.”

“I would love to go out with you.” you smiled, that whimsical smile that he couldn’t seem to get enough of. “Where did you want to go?”

“I made a dinner reservation, about two hours from now.” he whispered, smiling genuinely once you said yes. You had said yes. You had said yes.”

“Let me get ready then. Give me just twenty minutes or so.” you smiled, before turning back around to get ready. Theo chuckled at the sounds of your small yet excited squeals.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

guys. i don’t have. my fancy smancy dividers.

for some reason my phone hates downloading transparent pngs from tumblr and aleays adds a white background, which is absolutely not tolerable at ALL, and managing these lines were also really hard as well for some reason? the images always summon at the bottom so you have to drag them, which wasn’t easy with the size.

but we pulled through guys. GUYS WE DID IT YAYAYAYAYYYY

AS ALWAYS, please like, comment, and reblog! i hope you lovelies had a fantastic day, and i shall write to you some other time. bye guys!

[carisc4pshaw]

Showers of Love

In which Spencer Reid comes home from work late after being away for 5 days and finds himself joining his girlfriend (female OC) in the shower the next morning.

word count: 1.7k

tags: shower sex, morning sex, smut, little fluff, smut&fluff, domestic fluff, love, oral sex, vaginal sex, PinV sex, home, showers, original character, original female character, bisexual female character, spencer reid/ fem!reader, bisexual spencer reid, spencer reid fluff, spencer reid smut, sub spencer reid, dom spencer reid, choking, rough sex, late night, working late, criminal minds

warning: little nipple play, oral sex (fem receiving), choking, unprotected PinV sex (I think that’s it)

notes: Also posted on Ao3 I hope you enjoy this however, it may not be the best as I haven’t written smut involving men for a couple of years.

—————————————————❤️‍🔥——————————————————

Spencer had gotten home from work after a case had run on longer than any of them would have liked, Sofia was pretty sure she heard him climbing into bed at 3:30 am so she took that as a chance to have a lay-in with him until 11 am the next morning before deciding it really was time to get up.

The blonde went into the bathroom twisting the shower on warm and stripping out of her clothes. She got into the shower and closed the door meaning she didn’t hear the knock coming from the door to the bathroom just a minute later.

The couple had been together a long time but Spencer wanted to be respectful by knocking first however he was sure on this occasion she wouldn’t mind the surprise I mean he had been away for almost 5 days after all.

He opened the door and took in her body, her head was tilted back under the shower head as the water ran down her slightly tanned skin. Spencer knew he wasn’t going to be able to enter the shower undetected so he knocked on the glass, her head quickly turned to him a shocked expression on her face before realising it was him.

“Are you okay?” Sofia asked him.

“Can I join? You look beautiful,” he said, his eyes trailing her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and breasts ending at the end of her ribs.

“Hm yes you can join,” She giggled pushing the glass door open for him.

He got rid of his clothes and entered the shower standing behind her wrapping his arms around her midsection and smelling the clean skin on her shoulder, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” She said twisting her head round to meet his lips in a very awkward angled kiss.

Spencer began leaving kisses at the side of her neck, sucking lightly leaving what would become faint marks on her skin.

“Mmm baby I’m trying to shower,” Sofia spoke pushing further back against him feeling his cock hardening against her ass.

“Sorry about that… but it has been well 5 days,” He rubbed the back of his neck swallowing nervously.

“It’s fine I like knowing I still turn you on.”

“You’ll always turn me on darling,” Spencer’s hands travelled to her breasts grabbing both of them in his hands, his thumbs rubbing her nipples.

“Oh baby, that feels so nice,” Sofia said under her breath.

“Did you miss having me here?” He asked running his hands from her breasts and down the sides of her waist.

“Mhm, you shouldn’t leave for work all the time.”

“I’ll suggest it to Hotch,” He turned her around so he was now facing her and left kisses on her chest and the top of her cleavage.

“Good plan,” Sofia reached one hand down wrapping it around his cock resulting in him moaning into her chest.

He pulled back and shook his head, “No, this is about you for now, hands off.”

She immediately obeyed him moving her hand before being pushed up against the wall of the shower.

Spencer kissed a trail down her body as he got onto his knees and began kissing her inner thighs.

Sofia reached down sliding her fingers into his damp curls her hand tightening in them when he ran his tongue up her slit.

The blonde let out a few sighs of pleasure as he gripped onto her thighs spreading them further apart.

Spencer angled his head to latch his lips onto her clit, sucking at it gently. He moved one hand from her thigh to grip onto her hip.

Sofia’s hands tightened in his hair as he ran his tongue in circles over her clit before running it down to her entrance and plunging it into her wasting no time to get it as deep as he could twisting it further inside.

The moans, sighs and the look of pleasure on Sofia’s face he was hearing and seeing had made him harder than he was before if it was even possible. He knew it took the blonde a little while to reach her first orgasm and at this point, he didn’t know if he would be able to wait that long.

Sofia’s eyes were closed and her mouth was parted open as strings of moans came out of her mouth that only got louder as he splayed his right hand over her lower stomach so his thumb could reach down to her clit rubbing it in firm fast circles. Maybe this wouldn’t take as long he thought.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” she shouted gripping his hair impossibly tight and pulling it so hard it was hurting but he would not say anything about it.

Sofia sighed heavily, one of her hands leaving his hair and slamming against the tiled wall and her legs threatening to close around his head as she climaxed, her juice spilling out onto his tongue.

Spencer removed his tongue from inside of her but kept his thumb lightly brushing against her clit while she came down from her orgasm.

He stopped his actions with his thumb when he heard her breathing slowing down and placed both his hands on her hips rubbing them comfortingly. He stayed on his knees and looked up at her, “Are you okay darling?”

The younger woman nodded her head ‘yes’ until her breath had returned to talk, “Yeah thank you, so good. God, you’re so good at that Spence.”

Spencer smiled, standing up from the floor and pressing his lips against her, it was a loving kiss made more passionate by her being able to taste herself on him.

He pulled back after a minute and ran a hand down her hair, “You’re gorgeous honey.”

“Do you want my help with this?” She reached down and took the length of his cock in her hand.

Spencer groaned at the touch, “Can you go again?”

“Yeah,” She nods, “Always.”

He kissed her lips once before roughly connecting his lips to her pulse point on her neck.

His hand moved from the side of her face to her collarbone rubbing his hand across it and down between her breasts.

“I don’t need any more teasing baby you’ve warmed me up enough,” she said pulling his head back up from her neck so their lips could join again.

“From the front or back?” Spencer asked.

“If I say back will you pull my hair?” Sofia smirked at him.

“No I don’t want to hurt you,” He pecked her lips.

Sofia rolled her eyes, “You choke me but you won’t pull my hair?”

“It’s different.”

“Fine, we will work on this, front then and choke me.”

“Okay,” Spencer waited for her to adjust her position for it to be easier for him to slip inside of her.

Spencer eased into her slowly, he was large and while they had done this many times he always wanted to be careful not to hurt her.

Adjusting to him didn’t take long due to her previous orgasm and already being used to his size.

“Move,” Sofia ordered with a moan.

Spencer complied pulling out a little and pushing back in earning a louder moan from his girlfriend.

“More please,” she breathed out wrapping her arms around his waist.

Spencer quickened his pace earning moans from him when he thrusted in and out of her.

Sofia's nails scraped down Spencer’s back while her eyes rolled in pleasure, “Oh fuck. Yes!” She said between moans.

He could feel himself getting closer to his climax as her walls tightened around his cock more with each thrust. Spencer moved his hand to her neck squeezing lightly against her pulse point.

“Keep going please,” Sofia begged

“I’m not stopping babe,” Spencer thrust at a different angle hitting a point inside her he hadn’t hit before.

That movement mixed with the choking sent her toppling over the edge for the second for the second time that evening.

He wasn’t far behind after seeing her orgasm washing over her face.

“I need to pull out baby,” he spoke rather softly, loosening the hand from around her neck.

Sofia groaned, “Why? You never usually do?”

“Are you sure you want me to?” Spencer grunts.

“Yeah,” She kissed his lips slowly running one of her hands down her chest.

With one more thrust Spencer finished inside of her, moaning into her mouth as they kissed.

He pulled away from her breathing heavily. His brown eyes met her blue ones just staring at her as he got his breath back.

“You okay honey?” Sofia giggled at his flushed cheeks and scattered breaths.

“Yes, more than okay. I’m going to pull out now.”

The blonde nodded but still let a small whiney moan out as she felt the loss of him from inside of her.

The sweet sound made Spencer’s heart beat a little faster than it already was from the physical activity they had just participated in. He took her face in his hands and smiled at her before placing a peck on her lip, “I love you,” he spoke between the kisses.

“I love you too Spence,” Sofia said stepping further under the water from the shower head.

“Can I wash your hair?” He asked moving closer to her again wrapping his arms around her from behind.

She leaned back into his touch so their bodies were pressed together, “Of course, you know I’ll never say no to that.”

Spencer took the shampoo bottle from the small shelf and squirted some into the palm of his hand. The smell of sex in the shower was quickly drowned out by the thick smell of Sofia’s lavender-scented oil that she’d mixed into her shampoo.

As he rubbed it into her hair he spent a fair amount of time massaging her scalp, “I love the smell of your shampoo.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, It makes me feel calm I miss smelling it when I’m away.”

“You’re so adorable, I’m giving you so many kisses when you’re finished washing my hair.”

“How about you do that after we put pyjamas on and get into bed to watch a movie?”

“Sounds like an excellent plan,” Sofia quickly turned around in his arms and pecked his lips despite the fact his hands were still threaded in her hair.

—————————————————————————————————————

[hellobykittys]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐈𝐌)𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓.𝐈𝐈 ✦ 𝐂𝐋¹⁶

SUMMARY: Charles Leclerc, a Formula 1 star, faces the decline of his reputation after breaking up with art curator Alexandra Saint Mleux. Under pressure from his team, he is forced into a fake relationship with one of the most popular influencers of the moment. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. WC: 1.9k WARNING: teasing, fake relationship

PREVIOUS PART | MASTERLIST | SMAU VER | NEXT PART

The next morning, Charles was already regretting it. Or maybe just annoyed. Or both. He hadn’t decided yet. The truth was, the plan had started before he was even awake.

“Did you like her photo?” Lorenzo asked, barging into the room without knocking.

“Good morning to you too,” Charles replied, throwing a pillow at his brother.

“Charles, I’m serious. Did you?”

“Which photo? She posts like fifty a day.”

Lorenzo sighed and handed his phone to his brother. On the screen, Y/N’s latest post glowed—a seemingly casual photo but so flawlessly composed it was impossible not to notice the meticulous planning behind it.

“Liked it yet?” Lorenzo pressed, pointing at the heart button.

Charles mumbled something unintelligible but tapped the button anyway.

“There. Done. Now let me sleep.”

But it wasn’t done. The second his like went live, the internet worked its obsessive magic. Gossip accounts picked up on the move almost immediately. “Charles Leclerc likes Y/N’s photo. Coincidence or something more?”

Meanwhile, across the city, Y/N was sitting in a chic café, laughing quietly as her phone blew up with notifications.

“They’re fast, huh?” she commented to her best friend, Clara, who was rolling her eyes as she stirred her cappuccino.

“Are you actually enjoying this?” Clara asked, sounding a little skeptical.

“It’s not about enjoying it. It’s a job.” Y/N shrugged, though the smirk on her lips said otherwise.

Charles was never a fan of hosting dinners at home. He was more of a fine-dining restaurant kind of guy—or, when no one was looking, fast food in his car. But tonight, his apartment had turned into Sofia’s mission control.

He opened the door still in sweatpants, his hair a mess, and looking just a little tired.

“You look like a teenager,” was the first thing Y/N said as she walked in, holding a bag of desserts.

“And you always look ready for a runway,” he shot back, taking in her flawless outfit: skinny jeans, a white cropped tee, and sneakers—casual but calculated.

“Thanks. I practice.”

She waltzed in, ditching her shoes near the door and taking in the space. His apartment was minimalist but not soulless. Trophies were scattered across a shelf, abstract art he clearly didn’t choose hung on the walls, and a big couch dominated the living room, probably the epicenter of his social life.

“Do you actually live here? I expected it to be… messier,” she remarked, flopping onto the couch.

“If it were messier, you’d complain. If it were tidier, you’d say it’s fake. So, please, tell me the exact level of chaos that would make you happy.”

“You’re starting to figure me out,” she said with a laugh.

The dinner, as it turned out, was delivery that took so long to arrive they were already brainstorming the next steps of the plan before eating. Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, her laptop open and notes scattered across the coffee table.

“Okay, we need something for the first public appearance. Nothing too obvious, but not so subtle that people miss the point.”

Charles, slouched on the couch, watched as she spoke, distracted by the businesslike tone she used.

“Do you talk this seriously all the time, or is it just when you’re in work mode?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand.

“This is serious, Leclerc,” she replied without looking up. “If you want to salvage your reputation, you’re going to have to trust me.”

He sighed, knowing she was right.

“Our first appearance could be next week, just before the Monaco race weekend. We could stroll around the streets in your car or stop at a café,” she suggested. “It’ll look casual, but everyone will notice.”

“What if we just let the rumors do their thing?” he tried.

“Because that would be too easy for you.” Y/N finally looked up. “You need to give people a reason to believe this story. And I’m very convincing.”

At that moment, the delivery arrived. Charles went to grab it while Y/N rearranged the table to make it look casually perfect.

“Let’s start small,” she said, stretching her arm out to snap a photo. He watched as she worked, following her directions like a puppet.

“This will drive people crazy,” she commented, showing him the image before posting it.

The picture showed Charles’s hand holding a wine glass and part of his torso. On the table between them sat two pizzas.

Charles rolled his eyes. “You’re good at this, I’ll admit.”

“Not just good—excellent,” she corrected.

As they ate, the tension between them grew more noticeable. While they discussed details like when she’d start appearing in the paddock, the teasing didn’t stop.

“Do you think people will actually believe I fell for you?” he asked, smirking.

“If I can pretend to find you interesting, people can believe anything,” she shot back, taking a bite of pizza.

He laughed. “Interesting? I thought you were having fun.”

“I’m a great actress,” she said, giving him a playful wink.

“Now we need more pictures,” Y/N said after a while, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Something a bit more… intimate.”

“More?” Charles sighed, clearly exhausted. “Wasn’t that last one enough?”

“Of course not! People need to believe we’re in love. Think of something subtle: holding hands, your hand on my thigh… something like that.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile immediately forming on his lips. “For someone who made the ‘no touching’ rule, you seem pretty eager for this. Trying to relive that night at the club?”

The comment was bold, but Y/N didn’t even blink. She simply stared at him for a moment, her calm almost irritating, before replying, “What night, Leclerc? You must be confusing me with one of your dreams.”

He chuckled, but there was something about the way she brushed off the topic that left him unsettled. After all, she had walked out that night without a word, pretending like nothing had happened. And it still nagged at him.

Unbothered, Y/N stood up and moved to the couch behind them, sitting like someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

“Come here. You need to sit next to me,” she ordered, patting the spot beside her on the couch.

Charles raised an eyebrow but stood up, following her instructions without protest. “What do I need to do now, boss?”

Y/N firmly took his hand and placed it on her thigh. With her other hand, she adjusted her phone’s camera.

“You just need to sit still,” she said, winking at him before snapping the picture. “Look, it turned out so cute!”

She showed him the result, a satisfied smile lighting up her face.

He glanced at the photo, then back at her. “You seem pretty excited about this. I’m starting to think I’m not the only one dreaming here.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, ignoring his comment as she went back to adjusting the photo’s filter. But Charles couldn’t help but notice: as much as she tried to stay in control, there was something in her eyes that hinted she might be enjoying this more than she let on.

Later, as they cleared the empty plates and went over the plan’s timeline, their eyes met. For a moment, silence filled the room. It wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy with something neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

“Well, this was… productive,” Y/N said, breaking the tension as she stood up to grab her bag.

“‘Productive’ is one way to put it,” he replied, following her to the door.

Once she left, Charles collapsed onto the couch and grabbed his phone. The picture she had just posted was already blowing up with comments. He liked it quietly before tossing the phone onto the table.

At the media day press conference, Charles had already memorized the answers Sofia had prepared for him. When someone asked about his personal life, he replied with a cryptic smile:

“I’ve been spending more time at home, enjoying it with people I like.”

Meanwhile, Y/N was doing her part. During an Instagram live, someone asked,

“Do you like Formula 1?”

She smiled, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

“I didn’t think I did, but lately… I’ve been watching it more.”

tαglıst: @charlesgirl16 @sltwins

[waynes-multiverse]

Hi, I first wanted to say that I’m a big fan of your work, I’m constantly rereading your fics and they have really helped me escape from my busy Uni schedule. I was hoping you could write some smutty head canons about dean, no pressure ofc. I hope you enjoy your day and thank you for taking the time to create and post fics for people like me who need a way to escape their hectic lives.💕

Aww, thank you so much, lovely! I gladly support the escapism 🥰

Sorry this took me so long! I was on a bit of a break there, but I was so excited to get into this. God knows I have so many headcanons 😆

Hope you’re doing well and hope you enjoy this 🤍

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18 for some smutty content (duh)

Main Masterlist || Tag List

Headcanon: Gettin’ Down and Dirty with Dean

Dean is very hands-on, which means he’ll touch you whenever he can, even if it’s just a hand on the small of your back while you’re pumping gas or walking into a bar.

This also means he takes PDA to a whole new level. He teases you under the table when you’re doing research in the library or eating in the kitchen. He weaves his arms around you when you’re doing dishes. He trails kisses down your neck while you’re cooking.

Especially while you’re cooking. Something about food just turns him on. So much so that every once in a while he stands in front of your door with some whipped cream, chocolate sauce, a cute wiggle of his eyebrows, and a giant grin, begging you to be his dessert.

Sam is mostly annoyed by his brother’s indiscretions, though. Too many times (almost every damn day) Dean has walked into the kitchen in nothing but his gray robe and announced his morning wood to you, not seeing Sam sitting in the corner. That’s when Sam usually folds his paper, takes his coffee, and hurries to the library before Dean’s hands find their way to your body once more.

Sam suffers the most, however, if there’s only one motel room available and the three of you have to share. Dean has zero self-control (and also doesn’t care what Sam sees or doesn’t see). While he cuddles you, he holds you so close to his body that it’s hard to breathe. And again, hands and lips – they wander. Constantly. The man doesn’t possess an off-switch.

It got so bad that Sam has established a rule that the two of you are not allowed to share a bed anymore and Dean has to take the couch for the night. But as soon as his little brother has dozed off, he crawls right back into the warm comfort of your bed.

Speaking of rules, Dean loves breaking them. If there’s a sign that says “Do not enter,” you can be sure as hell he’ll shove you in there and will enter you. For Dean, there’s no such thing as bad timing or an inappropriate place. He even breaks rules that don’t exist and are just common sense like, “Do not have sex in a museum while you’re breaking into said museum.”

And while he loves breaking rules, he also loves following them. Especially when it’s “sexy rules.” He loves when you playfully push him around, when you shove him backwards onto the mattress and tell him what to do. He will smirk at you giddily all the way through and be the best damn boy you’ve ever seen.

Overall, he’s curious about your fantasies and constantly asks you want you want to do. He enjoys it when you take the lead in the bedroom and loves to see what you come up with. He loves being underneath you and watch you ride him with his bottom lip tugged behind his teeth. It barely hides his huge grin. He loves to see your tits bounce from this angle. According to him, it’s the best goddamn view in the world – forget the Grand Canyon.

However, when he’s had a bad day or a rough hunt, he actually likes to be in charge. It all depends on his mood. But taking control of you helps him cope with the things he can’t control in this world. So whenever he comes home with tense shoulders and a tightly creased brow, you know you’re in for a treat.

When he orders you around with his deep voice and sharp tone, you melt into a puddle and only all too happily oblige to his every command. Your legs grow weak when he dominates you with just a look. God, he loves the way you whimper and squirm underneath him, loves how you moan his name when you’re on all fours in front of him, and loves how your lips feel around his cock when you suck him off.

You love to give him comfort in whatever form he pleases. And Dean loves that you trust him with all your heart – and he knows to never betray it. He will always respect your limits, even though he gently pokes them sometimes, testing how far he actually can go.

Sometimes he bends rules like he bends you.

And truth is, he can go pretty fucking far. There’s not much you won’t let this man do. His dirty mouth can convince you to do all kinds of things – things you would for sure refuse if anyone else was asking. But it’s Dean, and one look of his sparkling green eyes will have you on your knees for him.

But honestly, Dean is the same kind of whipped for you, too. He will do anything for you, short of moving actual mountains. Massages, hot baths, ice cream at midnight? He’s got you covered and doesn’t expect anything in return, except for your unconditional love. He’s got it either way, but you do have to reassure him sometimes.

Dean’s a giver, not a taker, so you do have to force him sometimes to ask for the things he wants. But boy, when he gives, he goddamn gives with both of his massive hands. After he’s done with you, there’s not a single inch of skin left on your body that hasn’t been worshipped. You always come first – literally.

Dean takes pride in making you cum, and it doesn’t matter with which body part of his he does it. They are all equally skilled – his fingers, his lips, his tongue, and his dick. He eats you out and fucks you like there’s no tomorrow, because you both know in a life full of monsters, there actually might not be one. He makes every night and every day count.

Then, there’s his mouth. It should be no surprise, but it’s goddamn filthy. He could make you come with words alone, and not rarely, he sure likes to try. A lot of times it’s stuff you haven’t even heard, dreamed, or thought about until Dean’s said it and put it in your goddamn head.

And yes, Dean’s very sexual and a great lover through and through. He enjoys sex, but most of all, he enjoys going to sleep and waking up next to you. He loves cuddling with you on the couch during a movie, he loves holding you close at night, and he loves that special moment when you’re both coming down from your highs and are still connected, bathing in the afterglow.

Dean has been so touch-starved all his life that he enjoys the little things. He loves when your fingernails caress his back and massage his scalp. He loves using you as his freaking pillow. At this point, you’ve learned not to drink too much water before bed, because you know you won’t be able to escape his prison of strong arms – not that you’d ever want to (unless you really do have to pee).

I honestly could've went on and on and on with this one... 😂

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[vatelixx]

In the crooks of your body (I find religion),

mid-seasons Spencer Reid x afab!reader

SMUT!! (and fluff, lots of fluff. no angst this time, mostly for damage control) ─── soft love & early mornings. idk it’s just domestic bliss for a change.

Warnings: light d/s dynamic (sub spencer, im predictable), low-key praise for both parties, pre-established relationship, they’re soooo in love, they’re also domesticated, morning sex (but there’s no penetration, just oral), they’re both nerds, their pillow talk is science, autistic spencer always (it’s canon to me) greek mythology references, probably the nicest thing i’ll ever write.

w.c: 3k

a/n: post-prison (as requested by many) is still being worked on. it makes me sick. i wrote this to improve my mental health. i’d apologise for being inactive recently but it was necessary, ohmygodihavesomuchcoursework.

──────────────

Saturdays are for this. Waking up to no obligations, work tossed aside, Spencer’s state of impending doom reduces to something distant, untouchable. Barely dawn, there’s a level of domesticity to the art of sleeping together.

Sure, he could go on tangents, disbelieving that he’s allowed to attain this. But it’s futile, he’s long grown tired of exhausting the how to your dynamic, the statistic improbabilities, he always thought you would be reserved to his fantasies. Pandora’s box, a hypothetical kept under lock and key.

But no— he’s willing to accept that, on this one off occasion, he’s made an error in his calculations. An illogical anomaly.

Draped in the mantle of sleep, he feels the soft push of cotton sheets first, then the warm-blooded body curved around him. There isn’t traces of a case lingering at the forefront of his mind when he shifts, drawing himself closer, almost subconsciously, by guided instinct.

Touch. Touch, a natural, biological need. Something Spencer has always shied away from, finding nothing but hurt at the double-edged sword of intimacy. It’s not like he has much experience to base this on. And yet, right now, he’s not thinking factually, from a logical standpoint. Because, okay, there’s comfort in knowing the person that touches you is in fact supposed to touch you.

His hands find your body, his movements still slow and weary, thumb brushing the edge of your vertebrae, the divot just below your shoulder blade.

Spencer is many things. He’s obsessive, incessant, obstinate on occasion. Difficult, to put it bluntly. But despite all that, despite his complications, he’s here, touching, trusting, because for the first time in his life, it feels good.

“Moonless earth theory,” he says, moving to accommodate when you decide to lie on your side. Face to face, in hazy, dimmed light. He stares. “Okay, Abian, Alexander Abian, claimed that blowing up the moon would solve every problem in existence.”

Selfishly, unabashed, he slips his hand beneath your top to trace halos across your skin. “It’s so dumb. If that happened, tides would decrease. And, and, the moon's presence has a partial correcting effect on any instabilaties that arise in a non-homogenous, non-symmetrical—“ he sighs, presses his lips together for a moment, “Basically, the earth would wobble. Which… uh, isn’t very good?”

You’re still half-asleep, dreary to his random information. It takes a moment for your brain to settle, to comprehend what he’s saying, and then another, longer moment, to respond.

“Mhm. Days would be shorter,” you respond before laughing. “This is what you think about when you’ve just woken up? I’m basically a walking lobotomy until at least 10AM. And that’s providing I have a shower, feed my caffeine dependency, et cetera et cetera.”

You look at him, observe the sight: tousled hair, swollen lips half-parted, dilated, heavy-lidded eyes that stare back back back.

“I think about a lot of things in the morning,” he mutters, “A lot of things in general.”

When he leans in to kiss you, it’s languid, slow, he’s still in stasis, a state of suspended animation. Tenderly, as if the contact could break, he parts your lips with his own, his breath warm against your mouth, slow, like he wants your touch burnt into him.

Inevitably, your tongue slides against his, and he moans. Hot. It’s so slow, slow enough that time feels warped, nonexistent, like the universe has just stopped without warning.

He feels you shifting, the movement subtle, legs intertwining, hips flush. Good. So good. His lips break away, only to find their way across a cheek, along the column of your throat, further, over the curve of your collarbone.

He’s pressing kisses anywhere his body allows, touch lingering against your skin, tracing invisible imprints. “Sometimes, well.. um, most of the time, I think about you.”

He laughs, shifting to press his forehead against yours. “It’s a huge interference on my routine. And yeah, there’s also the facts, and the statistics. But then my mind will betray me, and i’ll just think about how you might respond, if I told you them.”

This information isn’t exactly new; you’ve woken up to random, impromptu messages regarding space, earth, philosophy, facts that you can never quite place at such an early hour. Then, there’s the phone calls, the dumb, domestic phone calls, ringing you just to over-explain some new hypothesis he’s studying.

Starry-eyed ambition. Sometimes it hurts to think that the job, the BAU, the nature of the cases, will inevitably warp his softness.

You cup his face, palm pressed against cheek, watching as he melts, molten gold, into the contact. “Yknow, I’d really like to study you in a lab.”

“Mm,” he hums, a sound that translates to please don’t put me in a lab.

His hand wraps around your wrist, preserving the contact, holding onto it like there’s a possibility, an actual chance, fact and figure, that he could lose it.

“I’d just be your lab rat? And they say romance is dead,” he scoffs, “You would commit so much medical malpractice.”

“Pft, medical malpractice. That’s made up,” you silence his protests before they can leave his lips. “I think it would be fun to preform experiments on you. Though, i’m not sure I should be trusted with a scalpel. A law probably needs to be put in place. Yknow, for the safety of the people.”

“Ah, ha.” he’s quick to respond, “It’s the scalpel you’re worried about? You’re forgetting the needle, the drugs, the restraints? You cannot be trusted, you’re a danger to society,”

Spencer pouts, features creased. “And your idea of a fun Saturday morning is committing violent acts against your oh so innocent boyfriend. I see, I see where your priorities lie.”

You grin, press a light kiss to his cheek. It’s soft, tentative contact, and yet he still shivers. No dignity. “Sorry, sorry. What was that last part of your sentence? I zoned out after you said restraints.”

“Right. That’s uh, well. That wasn’t the point I was… trying… to make?”

“Yeah, yeah. Medical malpractice. Evil girlfriend. I get it. You’ve made your point. I am very very ashamed of my hypothetical actions.” you say, hooking your leg around his waist, drawing him onto his back. Spine meeting mattress, your body on top now, straddling him.

You hike up his sweater, running your hand across his torso. There’s something obscene to the way he blushes, draping an arm over his face, as if your movements physically pain him.

“Stop acting coy. I’ve seen you in this position before. Worse ones, if we’re going to be honest here—“

“Hey, hey, hey— I’m not acting coy!" he protests, unconvincingly. He’s breathless, attempting to hide the way his body reacts. As if the slight friction warranted from the movement doesn’t grant him fleeting bliss.

The contact is intense, fervent, your body flush with his. “We really really don’t need to talk about the other occasions.” his eyes shut, head falling back against sheets, lips parted, hands gripping the skin of your hips.

“You’re uh, you’re really unfair,” he mumbles, “And beautiful. I should tell you that more often.”

“You tell me every day.”

Moving off his lap, he’s accommodating as you help to untangle clothes from his body, raising his hips when needed, lifting his arms when necessary. Your touch has him compliant, obedient, eager to fall pliant, beneath you. The sight, god: slender, pale skin, faint blemishes staining his thighs from previous nights, matching with the few that adorn his neck.

“I don’t say it enough, then.”

You laugh, “Oh, you’re such a sap.”

It’s a process: getting Spencer to sit up. Because he doesn’t seem to comprehend your intentions, to realise what you’re trying to imply here. Still, when he’s finally perched on the edge of the bed, you rise, shifting to stand between his legs, to look down at the picture of him, bare, undone, so pretty just for you.

He stares up, eyes wide like marbles. “Hi.”

You card your hand through his hair, strands falling between crevices in your fingers. It’s soft, the movement, the gesture, you’re not sinking down to the root yet. “Hi.”

Your name falls from his lips. And yeah, there’s something reverent to the way he says it, the pained whisper. Something that dissolves into a messy, unrefined whimper when you sink to your knees.

“Oh, god. I—,” he swallows, his voice rough. “I, I love you so much.”

There’s this repeated question on your mind, the same one that loops into existence every time you’re in a compromising position: how loud is Spencer going to be today? Because, objectively, he’s loud. It demeans, ruins the chances of abrupt, clandestine touches in semi-public places. In sneaking around. Even when you’ve got your palm against his mouth, he somehow manages to combat, to prevail the suffocation.

Your lips press soft kisses along his thigh, touching those marks now, the ones you must’ve left last night. No? Maybe yesterday afternoon? It’s hard to keep track. “I love you.”

He melts.

“Such a pretty cock. All for me, hm?” jesus christ. You’ve always been so blunt, outward, inherently shameless. Spencer thinks he might die, divine madness. Theia mania.

When you drag your tongue along the length of his cock, there’s a current, sharp, sending his hips bucking. They arch forward, into you, into the contact. Sight shuttered by swollen eyes, he thinks about regulating his breathing, inhale, exhale, the concept falls on deaf ears.

“All yours,” he whimpers, “Yes. Only,.. only you. Always.”

It feels like devotion. The way he confirms vocally, the way you sink down, take him deep into your mouth. His head spills backwards, baring his neck, indiscernible noises bleeding through the open air, sunlight touching his skin, highlighting his intemperate demeanour in diluted canary.

He’ll apologise to the neighbours later.

Shaky, fumbling hands reach out to brush loose strands of hair from your face, to grip, the pads of his fingers meeting your scalp. He would never push, he just needs something firm, solid, tangible to hold onto.

And when you hum around him, just to mess with him, just to hear those sounds, to draw those pleasure-soaked, beautiful noises out of his mouth—

“Oh, oh oh— that’s, yeah. Mhm, yeah. Just… ruin me.” he’d probably thankyou after. Because he’s polite.

You draw back from the contact to catch your breath. Lips stained, now bruising, emitting soft little gasps. There’s tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, reducing your vision to a distorted haze. Blurry traces of reality that all seem so inconsequential now, now that you’re here.

“I love the way you sound for me, Spence. So pretty.”

“Well,” he huffs out a breath, “I’m uh, being taken care of… very well.”

You lean forward to press a kiss against his tip, as if that’s the most innocent, innocuous gesture imaginable. “You deserve it.” your nails run across his thigh, leaving faint white lines in their path. “Exploding that genius brain of yours yet?”

“That shattered the moment you got down on your knees. Maybe, um… okay, possibly earlier.”

“Earlier?”

“Way earlier..”

He whimpers when you drag your tongue across his tip. There’s a plethora of please please please he shamelessly emits, only somewhat satiated when your lips are wrapped around his cock, when you’re demolishing his sanity, and everything else in the process.

He doesn’t even realise how lewd he is, most of the time. It’s not like he’s making a deliberate effort, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to attain that skill anyway. It’s just… him, raw and unbridled, so delirious from pleasure.

His eyes, dilated, gone, are half-lidded, watching you through thick curls of messy hair, damp with sweat and morning light.

“I’m trying, I’m trying so hard,” he moans, and then words are destroyed, obliterated, as you gag, taking him down to the hilt. “Oh,” he says, “Oh.”

It never lasts long. Not where he’s concerned. Features creased, pleading, you have to restrain him from bucking, nails burning crescent marks into his skin. “Please— please, ‘m gonna…”

He looks done. You hum, oh, silent confirmation, the vibrations stimulate his cock, and then he’s shapeshifting, morphing, transcending into something blissfully gone, releasing deep into your throat.

The orgasm has him ruined, undone. Barely conscious, just floating like something inviolable.

Afterward, he’s urging you to drink water, soft kisses pressed down the curve of your neck as you both readjust. When his phone, his outdated, underused phone lights up, artificial haze, he curses Prometheus for giving humans fire, for hiding it in a stalk of funnel and allowing them to inevitably create technology.

The phone gets locked away in his drawer. He’s half-scared of it anyway.

Spencer has never quite understood the appeal of mornings, but he’s starting to see the merit in them, with you. He’ll tell you that sometime, maybe. One day. Soon.

Right now, however, he descends down your body, lips dragging a path from collarbone to the space between your thighs, where he actively groans.

“Best Saturday morning ever,” you remark, helping him to remove your shorts, then the offending panties that prevent his mouth from working you to ruin.

It’s almost domestic, the way you mirror his actions, feeding your hands through his hair, supporting him as he slips a pillow beneath your hips. Sprawled out across tangled sheets, flushed and restless, you let out an appreciative sigh at the reciprocation.

“Definitely,” he agrees, blowing cold air against your core, just to watch the way you curve, contort. “Though, uh… every morning with you is the best morning ever.” It’s dumb, and god he’s blushing between your thighs.

But, Spencer likes to thank you. Because all in all, he considers himself a well-mannered person. So this, he parts your thighs further, applies slight pressure to your clit, is completely necessary. Mandatory, he’d argue. Something that needs to be embedded into daily routine.

Usually, it’s a slow, methodical process. He can be a perfectionist, a completionist, but he doesn’t mind. He trails his tongue across the inner sections of your thighs, to catch the wetness that stains your skin there.

“You are so perfect,” he regards, pressing a kiss to your clit, mirroring your actions. “So pretty. The prettiest— i’m going to, yeah..”

His tongue moves in languid circles, in soft, calculated motions, before finally delving inside of you, tasting you, drawing a moan, a plea, a muffled prayer from your lips. Okay, alright, maybe his lips too.

“I could do this all day, I want to, I—“ And he doesn’t really have to finish the sentence, because you know him too well, and it’s implied. Implied that he’d spend ceaseless hours here without complaint, oh far from complaint.

He likes to have something to focus on. A task to preform. It distracts his mind, and this one? Yeah, it reduces his thoughts to only you.

If he had it his way, his current mental state would be permanent.

“On your back, pretty boy..” you watch with soft eyes as he mindlessly obeys. Legs bent, pressed against the mattress, you sink down onto his face, getting off from a new angle. Your back instinctively curves, arches, a series of warped moans ripped straight from your throat.

“Just like that— mhm..” you mutter, gripping his hair tighter now, mostly for stability. It’s hard to look down, to see the obscene sight he’s been demeaned to.

His thoughts are always haywire, spitballing off one another. It’s a constant cycle of overthinking, over-analyzing, brain fried beyond reason. But you? You make him feel grounded, tethered, to the very world itself. You’re the one constant that he can predict, and yet, oxymoronically, still so unpredictable in the same breath.

So human..

When you begin to rock against his face, to take the initiative, using him, he simply reaches down, hands trailing across his overstimulated body to stroke himself because of course he’s hard again. How could he not be? He’s at the altar of your body, and god he knows how to serve.

Spencer’s pretty certain he’s forgotten how to breathe, and it’s a hard, harsh gasp when he has the chance to drag air into his lungs — before diving back down to you, because yeah he needs it, he needs you.

It’s messy, muffled whimpers, and desperate sounds emitted from both of your mouths. A constant onslaught of him, his tongue working halos against your clit. When he comes, he’s got his face buried into your heat, obstructing all of his senses. Delirious. Pussy-drunk.

There. There. There. He makes sure to prolong the pleasure, to work you through the bleeding mess of stars, and cosmos, and heavenly bliss, until you’re squirming away from overstimulation.

There’s a set routine when it comes to aftercare. One that both of you fail to adhere to, every. single. time. You’re both firm, assertive, in the belief that you should be the one to look after the other, so it ends up being a lazy, mutual act. Showering, the way he buries his face into your shoulder, naked body pressed against naked body. Hydration, soft touches, muttered words that help you return from the astral plane.

“I can’t believe we’re getting back into bed,” you say after you’ve changed the sheets, traded your ruined clothes for fresh pyjamas. You’re wearing Spencer’s shirt, fumbling buttons, half sealed, exposing your collarbone, draping over your shoulder when you preform any sort of physical movement that requires arms.

“No complaints though.” by nature, your body finds his beneath blankets. “I’d happily rot here. They could make a shitty reality show, it would be good entertainment.”

“I think I’d get fired from the BAU,” he protests, “You know, the first reality TV show aired in 1948. Candid Camera, on ABC, the premise was uh… hidden-cameras? So, yeah, the usual invasion of privacy, sounds entertaining.”

“Mhm. Sounds like something you’d hate.”

You’re lying face to face, arms draped over each other. The Lovers of Valadro position, he calls it. You’re not sure if that’s romantic, or slightly morbid.

“Here’s the plan,” you press your forehead to his, staring at those doe-wide eyes, “We’re going back to sleep. Then, I guess you can be a rule-abiding FBI agent, or whatever, and finish up your reports. As long as you’re done by 4. Because I want to see a movie,” he laughs, in that knowing way. “Yes, yes, i’m aware it’s your turn. Which means we’re gonna end up watching some documentary. Just uh? Make it space themed, yeah? Or, dinosaurs. I can settle for dinosaurs.”

His lips meet yours, abruptly, and he’s grinning into the contact. “I love you so much. I, we, still need to watch MoonWalk One. The Mars Underground, um.. The Valley of the T-Rex? There’s another that I read about yesterday. The Universe at the Edge of Knowledge. Oh, or Dark Universe. You’ll really like Dark Universe, and Edge of Knowledge has this, this cool segment on —“

“Okay, nerd.” you laugh, “Whatever one you want, we’ll watch. I’m still halfway through Paleoworld right now, 30 episodes in.” he knows that, because you’ll message him through the duration, make use out of that untouched (borderline) dusty phone he neglects.

He intertwines your fingers, presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand. “Yup. Yup. Whatever. Can we nap now?”

[jikooklove9795]

TIME TO CALL ME DELUSIONAL BUT HEAR ME OUT!!!!!

One of Jungkooks last lives was him wearing the black and white Nike jacket.

Later we seen Jimin wearing the same one.

Everyone pointed it out..

Not to mention they were even matching with wearing beanies but back to my point-

A year ago today Jikookers were in Japan together, they’re safe place really.

Once he saw the snow, Jungkook said he’d remember that moment with Jimin while enlisted.

Today. 11/27. Jungkook changes his/Bams IG pfp with him wearing the same black and white Nike jacket…

Do you see where I’m going with this???

Hey Anon 😊

You really got some points there

We got to see Jungkook wearing the Nike Swoosh Black Jacket along with a black beanie during his Dec 8 2023 live

But we have seen him wearing this Nike Jacket in a live before, right?

When?

The March 14 2023 live. Where Jungkook started the live at 8:11 KST (cough 8/11 cough). The same live where he teased Jimin's SMF pt2 reminding us all that something amazing is gonna come up at midnight. It was White Day in SK.

On Dec 27 2023 we see Jimin wearing the Nike Swoosh Black Jacket along with a black beanie in BTS Monuments Beyond The Star

Jimin was in self quarantine at the time. So, its from Dec 14 2021. We get to know about the date from Jimin's phone screen and also from his conversation with Hoseok the same day

Now let me do a brief recap of Jungkook's Dec 8 2023 live.

When Jungkook starts the live, we see him walking home. He's going home after his workout. He talks about Bam (cause there was a rude comment asking him if he abandoned Bam), how he adopted Bam, took him home and cared for him, about Bam's training center, how he often visits Bam there and brings him home whenever he can. It is during this live that he hints that maybe Bam will have an IG in the future.

He sings songs for ARMY. Complains about the sweat. And changes his outfit to a purple hoodie just 15 mins before the live ends.

Now let's talk about the second part of your ask. About Jikook's conversation in Japan

Jikook got their first snow of this year in SK on Nov 27 2024.

Jungkook changed Bam's IG profile pic on Nov 27 2024 to this pic

And posted a new pic of Bam (the 13th post as pointed out by sydneylaurelseven)

When I saw Bam in this outfit I immediately thought of Jikook twinning on Valentine's Day in 2017

The song is a romantic one released in Dec 2017.

These lyrics:

I hope the white snow will pile up tomorrow morning

Then I'll make you a warm cup of tea

Just keep staying by my side

Promise me

So, I think when the first snow fell in SK Jungkook was reminiscing about his time with Jimin in Sapporo. And also about Bam. His cute family of 3.

According to SK tradition, if you experience the first snow with the person you like, it will lead to a long lasting true love between the two. Because of this many couples promise to meet each other at a certain place to enjoy the first snow and hope for their love to be eternal.

BTS did this interview on Dec 2017. Here, Jimin said that his wish was to see the first snow every year.

And he did. He did it with Jungkook on Jan 8 2018. Their first snow together as a couple (that we know of). Maybe they had watched it before too but this was the only one they shared with us till now. They let us in on their cute, romantic moment

When asked about their favorite weather:

On Nov 25 2018 Jikook went on their ice skating date right after they landed in SK after their Japan Concert

This sweet, romantic moment where Jungkook wakes up, climbs the mountain, brings snow with him and gifts it to Jimin cause he knows Jimin loves snow. And we see Jimin being worried about Jungkook feeling cold. Both of them always thinking about the other

Jikook playing with the snow filters designed by Jimin (Oct 10 2016)

On Nov 25 2023 Jikook flew to Sapporo. Sapporo is also a wonderful winter honeymoon destination for couples.

Jungkook enjoying his trip to Sapporo with Jimin and expressing it

Also, do you notice the watch Jimin is wearing?

He's wearing the same watch he wore during his Sept 1 2023 live. The 1997 model watch, which was set to Jungkook's birth time when he started the live (I love that moment so much. Its so romantic and loud. There's no other explanation to why he did that other than the most obvious one which is proudly showing his love for Jungkook).

Jikook had so much fun in Sapporo, enjoying each other's company, creating memories to take back home with them

Did Jungkook post those 2 pics intentionally on the same day when the first snow fell in SK?

When we (jkks) saw those 2 pics our mind immediately went to Jikook, right? Because in the first pic of Jungkook with Bam, Jungkook's jacket is the same as the one Jimin was also seen wearing (including the black beanie). The second pic is the one where Bam's wearing a green and grey jacket. Again, Jikook were seen twinning in green and grey jackets on Valentine's Day.

So, is it all a coincidence?

In my opinion Jikook and the word coincidence don't go hand in hand. Cause once, twice or even thrice can be considered a coincidence. But when it comes to Jimin and Jungkook its not a coincidence but a consistent pattern of their choices.

We have seen the whole Jikook sharing/ matching clothes, accessories saga, right? They even did it during their Solo Era. So, I'm not gonna share all that here since most of you would have already seen it. But I'll share some which looks really interesting:

1) Jimin wearing Jungkook's old T-shirt in Hoseok's bday live

2) After Jungkook uploaded GCF Tokyo an Army commented under the official BH tweet asking Jimin if he's dating Jungkook and if he is then to post a selca with glasses. After 3 days Jimin uploads a video where he is seen wearing the same green hoodie which Jungkook wore during their Tokyo trip, with a glasses filter on. He captions it "glasses"

3) Jikook in denim shirts. They looked and acted so couple coded here that Namjoon asked them if they were dating to which neither of them responds nor denies it

4) BTS pic with TXT where Jikook are wearing matching black outfits along with the hats

5) Jikook in couple pajamas for LGO MV. Jungkook wanted it to be as realistic as possible. And thats why there were seen sharing a room together cause thats what they have been doing in real life. Sharing a room, a home and being a couple

6) Jikook's color coordinated outfits for AYS Sapporo (Black & beige and Grey)

7) The staff had already prepared pajama sets for them, which can be seen on the bed but they chose to wear the couple pajama sets they brought with them

8) Jimin wearing Jungkook's sweater to bed in Winter Package

Jikook knows very well that we catch on to the hints and clues they keep dropping here and there.

So, I don't think we are delusional if we connected the pics Jungkook uploaded today to Jikook. Cause I think that's exactly what Jungkook was hinting at. And Jungkook himself said that when its gonna snow during their ms he would recall the moment he shared with Jimin during their Sapporo trip.

But add to it Bam too cause he's also a part of their family. So, when it snowed today in SK Jungkook's thoughts were filled with Jimin and Bam. His small, precious family.

Have a nice day, Anon 👋🏻

Credits to the owner of the video

[bqstqnbruin]

Friendsgiving

Hi so we are going to ignore the fact that it is nearly 2 am but here I am with a fic that I started today because of this tik tok that I saw a few hours ago and I immediately went 'fic'. So, here we are

Warnings: none

WC: 5845

Enjoy!

__________________________________________

“Why and how are you in Vancouver?” 

“Don’t hate me.”

“Oh, my god, did you move to Canada without me? You moved and didn’t even tell me.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at what you hoped was Lena’s unnecessary panic that you heard through your phone speaker, trying to navigate your way through the airport that you had never been to before. “No, I’m just probably doing something stupid.” 

“And you’re doing it without me?”

“Leen, I’ll catch you up later, ok?”

“Am I going to have to make sure you don’t end up in a ditch?”

“You should probably watch my location for the next few days,” you say, in all seriousness. “But I have to go, I love you, bye.”

You hang up on your best friend as you hear her screaming on the other end about calling the authorities, knowing that she wouldn’t actually do that. Actually, she might. But you can’t think about that right now.

You were trying to find Brock, despite the fact that you had never met him in person and stupidly agreed to fly to Vancouver on a day's notice from your home the week of Thanksgiving. 

You couldn’t believe the last couple of days of your life. You had posted a silly photo of you and your friends at your annual Friendsgiving. You always got together the Friday before, and had been doing so since middle school when your parents still had to either make the food for you, or had to be in the kitchen with you heavily supervising the entire time. This year was the 15th year in a row that you had all gotten together, celebrating in a much bigger fashion than you had in years past; you all dressed up, you all brought the food in the best serving dishes you had instead of the Dollar Tree tin dishes you all normally brought, you had the fanciest bottles of wine you could afford littering the table, and you had even all planned to stay over together for the first time, continuing the event into the morning. 

Brock had messaged you because of the photo. You were mutuals, having some of the same friends in college but never actually interacted with each other. 

All of your friends talked about how you two would get along so well, but it seemed like every time you were supposed to meet, something happened that prevented you from doing so. There was the one party you were supposed to go to with your friends, that you had been planning on going to all week until you got food poisoning from the dining hall. There was the class you were supposed to take together until his practice times got changed and ended up conflicting with the class. You were supposed to go to a formal together as each other's dates until he slept through his alarm and missed the bus to the venue.

You were always supposed to meet, until you didn’t.

But then you got the message from him a few days ago asking if you wanted to come to his Friendsgiving that he was going to with his American teammates. 

It was easily the craziest thing you had done in your life, saying yes to flying out to Vancouver the next day to meet a guy you had never actually met in person, or really talked to before those messages.

It made you realize you really hadn’t done much with your life. 

You walked through the airport, trying to see if you could find the guy you would be spending the next couple of days with by the baggage claim where he told you he would meet you. 

You finally see him, the blonde head of hair sticking out to you for an unknown reason. 

You knew from his pictures on his account that he was attractive, but, shit, he was gorgeous in person. 

He was also dressed up way more than he should be for someone to be waiting for a stranger in an airport; he was in a full suit and tie, his hair looking like he had just gotten out of the shower and styled it immediately. 

“Hi,” he says to you when he sees you, a smile on his face making your heart skip a beat. 

You didn’t even know this guy. “Hi,” you manage to get out as he pulls you in for a hug. “You look good, all dressed up.” 

Brock reaches for your bag, taking it off your shoulder and walking you out of the airport. “Thanks.”

“Why are you dressed up?”

“We’re on our way to the game.”

“We?”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“Do I look like I’m dressed for a hockey game?”

Brock looks at you as the two of you approach his car, opening his trunk to put your bag in. “You look great to me.”

“I’m in sweats, fresh off a plane. When do you think you told me?”

“Uh,” he lets out as you get in his car. “Yesterday?”

You take out your phone, scrolling through the messages the two of you exchanged. “You told me you had a game, not that I was going to one.” 

“Who did I tell that to yesterday?” he says, staring out through his front windshield, wracking his brain. You couldn’t help but laugh. “I can take you back to my place, if you want.”

“Would that make you late for the game?”

He glances at the clock, pulling out his phone. “Very late, yes.” 

You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile that you couldn’t help. “I’ll go to the game. I’m sure I have something I can change into stuffed in my bag.” 

The two of you fall into easy conversation, much like you had when he first reached out to you. There was something about him that was easy to talk to. 

He pulls up to the arena, still talking about one of the parties you were both supposed to go to in college.

“Do you remember that one kid, Chris, who somehow threw up at every party he went to?” he asks you, leaning against his car as you rifle through your bag in his trunk, searching for any semblance of an outfit that was better than the sweats you were currently in.  

“Hold on,” you tell him, climbing into the trunk and pulling the hatch closed, trying your best to change in the cramped space. You managed to find jeans and a black shirt that could pass as a non-airport outfit that you were smart enough to pack as a spare since Brock didn’t really give you a ton of information as to how the week was going to go. You could see him standing outside the car, dumbfounded by the abrupt nature of you practically commandeering his car as a changing room for yourself. “Ok, I’m good,” you say, opening the door back up in what you were sure was record time for changing in a car trunk.

“Wow,” he says, you noticing the slightest shade of red appearing on his cheeks. 

“Better?” you ask. Your foot catches on part of the trunk as you try to get out, practically falling out of his car. 

You feel Brock’s hands catch you, spreading across your back and under your legs. “Much,” he says, his face inches from yours. He clears his throat, his face turning bright red as he puts you down.

He wasn’t about to kiss you, was he? And why would you have been ok if he did that? “Thanks for that,” you tell him, embarrassment seeping into your voice. 

“So, uh, Chris?” he asks, walking you into the arena with his hands now firming shoved into his pockets.

“He really did somehow end up in the bathroom at every party.”

“Even if he didn’t have anything to drink that night.” 

“I wonder what he’s up to now?”

“He just got engaged, actually,” you tell him. “His fiance was one of my lab partners back in college.” 

“Wow. Never would have known that,” he tells you. The two of you walk through what you could only describe as the tunnels of the arena, Brock showing you around and trying to explain to you what everything was. 

“You’re gonna be in here,” he tells you, showing to a room that was filled with women and children who all seemed to know each other. Before you can ask anything, he checks his watch, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. “Shit, I’ve gotta get ready. I’ll meet you right here after the game.” 

Brock runs off, leaving you standing at the entrance to this room that you could see was at ice level, filled with people you didn’t know. 

You couldn’t enter the room. This was already ridiculous, you being here in the first place with a guy you just met for the first time in person less than an hour before. Now you were apparently supposed to go into this room with a bunch of people and do what? Talk to them? 

No thank you.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, leaning against the wall next to the entrance of this room as Lena calls you again. “Ok, you did not fly all the way to Vancouver to see a Canucks game.”

“I’m going to stop sharing my location with you,” you laugh.

“Ok, spill, why the hell are you in Vancouver?”

You recount the whole string of events to her, realizing how ridiculous the whole situation sounded now that you were actually verbally articulating everything. “And now, I’m outside of this room with a bunch of women and I think this is where I’m supposed to be for the rest of the game.”

“Are you in the WAG room?”

“The what?”

“The WAG room.”

“No, I heard you,” you sigh, “What does that mean?”

“The wives and girlfriends.”

You stare at the wall on the other side of the hallway as people you ignored scurried around you. “But I’m not a wife or a girlfriend?”

“Well, as long as you have that established. I heard there’s supposed to be amazing food in those rooms for the families.” 

You peek your head into the room, seeing a line of the women forming on the other side of the room in front of what looked like an incredible spread of food. “I can see that.”

“Go in!” Lena shrieks in your ear. “Have fun, make friends, and bring me some food when you get back.” She hangs up before you can say anything else, leaving you there with your phone pressed against your ear and no one on the other end of the call. 

You finally work up the courage to go into the room, trying to slip in and stay in the back, out of the way of anyone who would feel the need to come to talk to you. You stay along the wall closest to the door, trying to take in the room around you. There were children seemingly everywhere, running and shrieking as they played with each other. Toys were scattered all over the floor, bags lined against the wall. You probably looked like a freak the way you were moving through the room, trying to find a seat that you could sink into and become invisible in.

“Shit,” you let out, slamming down onto the floor, tripping over one of the toys you were somehow too busy to notice. 

“Are you ok?” one of the women asks you, crouching down on the floor to meet you at what was now, embarrassingly, eye level. 

You could feel your face getting hot. “Other than my ego being bruised, I think I’m good.” 

“I haven’t seen you before,” she says to you. “I’m Lexie. I’m Thatcher’s wife.”

You had no idea who Thatcher was, but it probably wouldn’t look good for you if you admitted that. 

You introduce yourself, finally getting up off the floor and dusting yourself off. “I’m here with Brock.”

Lexie’s eyes light up with excitement. “You must be Brock’s mystery girl.” The room seems to go silent when Lexie practically shrieks that, even the children making no noise. “He had been telling us he was seeing someone, but we never thought he would bring you to a game early.”

“Oh, I,” you start, getting nervous now that all eyes were on you. You had no idea what he had told these women, or their husbands, or boyfriends, or whoever these people were. “Here I am.”

“I can’t believe Brock would just throw you to the wolves like this,” Lexie says, linking her arm with yours and walking you over to the food table.

“Are you kidding?” another one of the women chimes in. “This is exactly something Brock would do. I’m Natalie, by the way, J.T.’s wife.”

The two women start chatting your ear off, you unable to comprehend what they were saying. Brock had a ‘mystery girl,’ that you had now taken on the identity of. Brock was probably seeing someone who couldn’t be there this week and now he was going to look like an awful human when you suddenly disappeared and were replaced with another person next week. 

But, why did you care? You barely knew Brock.

You had no idea how much time passed by when they all start filtering out the seats near the ice, the players skating around in circles. 

You join them, unsure what else to do. You pull out your phone, getting an idea and starting to type in a new note, trying to wave Brock over to the boards when you finally get his attention.

They think I’m your ‘mystery girl??? you show him with your phone screen pressed against the glass when he comes over. The color seems to drain from his face, mouthing ‘I’m sorry,’ and shrugging way too casually for your liking before practically sprinting away from you to the other side of the rink. 

You head back into the room, beelining for the exit and pulling up Lena’s number.

“Brock told everyone he and I are dating?” you try not to scream too loudly, hoping that none of the people in the room or in the hallway 

“Oh,” Lena says. “That’s not great.”

“Not great?” you say, running your hand through your hair, feeling yourself panic. “This is crazy. What if this turns into a psycho killer situation?’

“He’s way too high profile in the area to get away with killing you.”

“That’s not reassuring.” 

“I’m just saying he wouldn’t get away with it.”

“Adelena,” you stomp your foot like a child out of frustration, using your friend's full name.

“Ok, calm down,” she says. “There’s no need for the government name here. I think you just need to talk to him after the game and figure out what’s going on. I will fly out there and save you if I have to.” 

You take in a deep breath. This was the dumbest thing you could have done, regret seeping into you with every passing moment that you spent in Vancouver. “I’ll let you know.” You go back in the room, trying to pay attention to the game as the people around you milled about, trying to get to know you and about your ‘relationship’ with Brock.

“How long have you two been going out?” Lexie asks eagerly. 

“Um,” you panic, “Not that long, honestly. This is all really new.” That wasn’t a total lie.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We went to college together.” 

Before Lexie could ask you another question that you probably didn’t have an answer to, a toddler runs up to her, crying. “Gotta go,” she says to you, lifting the toddler and trying to comfort them. 

You sat and tried to watch the rest of the game, writing down everything you told Lexie in hopes that Brock would have said something similar. You spent the rest of the game on your phone texting with Lena, thankful that no one else in the room came up to you to talk to you or ask questions the way Lexie had, only going back to the ice and looking up from your screen to see Brock scoring.

You wait outside the room for Brock once the game was over, his teammates coming out much faster than he was as the hallway and the room behind you slowly emptied out, leaving you alone in the hallway. 

“What the fuck,” you ask him when you finally see him. 

“I’m sorry, I know,” he tells you, walking out to his car. 

“I don’t care if you need me to pretend to date you, but I would have liked to know about it before you threw me into the Gossip Grotto.” 

Brock exhales when he gets into the car, resting his head against the steering wheel while you stared at him with your arms crossed in front of you. “The guys keep bugging me about not dating anyone so I told them I was seeing someone to get them to shut up.” 

“And you didn’t think that was relevant to mention when you invited me here that there was a good chance they would think I’m the girl you’re dating?”

“No. I figured they would have forgotten about it by now.” 

“Well, their wives didn’t.”

“So what do we do?”

You stare at him. “I could leave on the next flight and get out of here and probably be mad at you forever. Or, we pretend we’re together.”

He whips his head to you, his eyes crazy with shock. “What?”

You shrug, pulling out your phone and showing him the notes you made during the game about you and him being together. “We fake date. I’m only here until Wednesday, and you said we were only going to be seeing your friends on Tuesday night. We have plenty of time to figure this out.”

“We have a day and a half.” 

You scoff. “You think I haven’t figured out more complicated things in less time? I got a plane ticket and got myself here on twelve hours notice.”

“So, we fake date?”

“We fake date.” 

_____________________________

“What are you doing?” you ask, walking into Brock’s kitchen the next morning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You spent the night in his guest room, sleeping in what was probably the most comfortable bed you had ever slept in. You spent the night before starting to hash out the story you would tell his teammates and their partners, agreeing that you would only share information about the two of you if you were directly asked about it. 

“Debating whether or not to make us breakfast,” he tells you, one hand on his hip, the other holding open the fridge door. Brock had on no socks, boxer shorts and a t-shirt, all of which showed off to you just how unfair his entire physique was. His hair was messy in a somehow perfect way that would have made you drool under any other context. You could pretend to drool over him, but real drooling was out of the question right now. 

“What’s the other option?”

He closes the fridge door, turning to face you. “I don’t make breakfast and we go out for food instead.” 

“How good are you at making breakfast?”

“I make a mean bowl of cereal.” 

“We’re going out for breakfast, get dressed.” 

“Wow, my girlfriend is bossy,” he smirks as you walk away, looking over your shoulder at him and sticking your tongue out.

Was that too flirty? You had agreed last night that flirting was ok so you could ‘get used to it.’ How could you flirt in front of other people if you had never done it before? 

You call Lena while you were getting ready. 

“You could just real date him,” you hear her suggest, crunching on something on the other end of the line.

“You could just give me real advice and not chew on something in my ear.” 

“It’s morning, let me eat my apple,” Lena says, obviously with her mouth full. “What are you guys doing today?”

“Right now, getting ready for breakfast. Beyond that, watch my location.”

“Yeah, I have no job. I can just stalk you all day.”

“If I end up dead how are you going to know?”

“Ugh, fine,” she sighs. “Have fun, don’t die.”

She hangs up, leaving you alone to get dressed for a day you didn’t know the details of. You pull on leggings and a sweater, your sneakers on and grabbed a jacket that you didn’t even know if you needed. You head back out to Brock’s kitchen, finding him leaning against the counter on his phone.

“You need to change,” you tell him. He had on black jeans and the same color sweater as you. 

“This could be a cute couple thing,” he jokes. “We could take a picture together and post it, or something.” You hesitate, walking over to Brock as he extends his hand with his camera open. “At least pretend to like me,” he tells you, plastering a smile on his face as he starts taking photo after photo.

You rest your hand on his chest, leaning into him and smiling at his camera. You did look good together, if you had to admit. 

“Can you do one where you kiss my cheek?’

“What?”

“Don’t couples do that?’

You stare at him for a second. Would it be weird to do that? He asked you to do it. “I normally scroll past those photos.”

“Me, too.” The two of you stand in silence for a second, neither of you sure how to go on. “Maybe we don’t do that. Too much, too soon.” You nod in agreement.

“So, where are we going?”

Brock smiles at you, leading you out the door. 

_____________________________

The breakfast he took you to was amazing. He said that he had an entire day for you planned as a thank you for coming out here in the first place. 

“How are you with hiking?”

“It depends.”

“On?”

“How long the trail is.”

Brock laughs, putting his car in park in front of a water front. 

“If we don’t stop, it’ll take two hours.” 

“That seems like a long time.”

“That’s how long my games are.”

“Yeah, that was a long time,” you tease him, getting out of the car. 

The trail was beautiful, a breeze off the water cooling you down as you walked alongside Brock. This could easily have been a real date if the two of you were actually together. 

You shake your head slightly of the thought. This was just supposed to be you helping him out, even though that wasn’t the original purpose of your trip. “So what are you supposed to do for Friendsgiving tomorrow night?”

Brock stops walking, the person behind him nearly knocking into him as he scolds Brock for stopping in the middle of the trail. You pull him over to the side of the walkway, ignoring the spark that you swore ran through you as laced your fingers in his. 

“I have no idea, actually.” 

“So you’re off to a great start.”

“I think I was told to bring something in the group chat,” he says, using his free hand to pull out his phone and start scrolling through the message thread that seemed to go on forever, your hands still intertwined. You weren’t sure he even noticed at this point, but part of you didn’t want to be the one to break the connection between you. “Ah, mac and cheese.”

“Have you ever made homemade mac and cheese before?”

“It has to be homemade?”

You roll your eyes, starting to walk again with your hands still locked together. “Did you think it would just magically spawn in front of you once you got to Quinn’s place?”

“I only have boxes of the store brand of mac and cheese.”

“Oh my god,” you sigh, pulling out your phone and finding the recipe you make for yourself when you have motivation. “Can you use Quinn’s oven when you get there or will he not have space?”

He quickly types on his phone as the two of you keep walking. “Yeah, we can as long as it doesn’t take too long,” he tells you, showing you the message from Quinn.

You nod, scrolling to the recipe on the website. “What do you have from these ingredients?” 

Brock quickly scans the list, nodding along and mouthing each component to himself. “I have the flour, salt, and pepper.”

“So you were supposed to be making mac and cheese and you had neither the mac nor the cheese?”

“That would be correct.”

“Oh my god,” you groan again. Brock stops walking, pulling you off to the side of the trail again. “What?” Brock gestures to the water in front of you, the sun making the ripples shine, the sky absolutely pristine. “Wow,” you let out. 

“What do you think?” you hear him ask, not taking your attention away from the sight in front of you.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” You look over at him, seeing him tuck his phone away into his pocket, his eyes on you instead of the view. 

_____________________________

“Why was getting all of this way harder than I thought it would be?” Brock asks, putting the bags of groceries on the counter.

“Because you had no idea where anything in the store was and we had to keep doubling back for things we missed the first time.”

“You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“We’re dating, isn’t that something you’re supposed to know?”

Brock laughs, pulling out pans and bowls from his cabinets as you start to get everything prepared for the mac and cheese. You tell him what to do, giving him step-by-step instructions.

“This is nice,” he tells you. 

You think for a moment, shredding the cheese into a bowl. The recipe called for more cheese than any recipe you had ever made before, and somehow the mountain of cheese in front of you still didn’t feel like enough. “It is.”

“My mom and dad used to cook like this,” he tells you, his voice somber as he comes up behind you. 

“Yeah?”

“She would tell him what to do and he would do it. Badly, but he would try his best.” You laugh along with him. He had told you that his father had passed away a couple of years ago, but you didn’t know anything else about him other than what she could find with a quick google search that now, in a weird way, felt like an invasion of privacy. “We could always tell which things Dad helped with because they tasted just a little off.” 

“You miss him, don’t you?” you say, slowing down your shredding and turning towards him. He was facing you again, his arm around you but not touching you, resting on the counter on the other side of you. 

“Always.”

You swore he was going to lean in, his eyes flickering down to your lips. You clear your throat, turning back to the cheese. “You should check the pasta to see if it’s almost done or not.”

Brock nods, smiling and winking at you before doing what he was told.

_____________________________

“This is all fake.”

“And?”

“It doesn’t feel fake.” 

“Well, you aren’t a great actress, are you?”

“Lena,” you whine. 

“I saw you try out for The Little Mermaid in middle school.” 

You had texted her once the mac and cheese was done and you were back in what Brock now referred to as ‘your room,’ panicking that he had almost kissed you again. What if you were just reading into things? You felt stupid to think that he was doing anything more than pretending for the sake of getting used to things for tomorrow, right?

“Is there a chance for this to turn into something not fake?”

“Considering he lives in a different country, unless you want me to actually move to Canada without you, no.” 

“Do you want it to be something that isn’t fake?”

You hesitate, knowing that Lena had a stupid smirk on her face that would turn into some sort of ‘I told you so,’ later in the conversation. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does.”

You sigh. “He’s great, but I’ve known him for two days. You don’t fall for someone like that in two days, it’s absurd.”

“Jack and Rose did in Titanic.”

“And that’s fiction, not real life.”

“Ok, if you had more than two days, then what?” 

“Then, I don’t know. Maybe?” 

“So, what do you do about it?”

“What can I do, Leen?” You flop down on the bed. “I’m here for less than two days before I leave and probably never talk to him again. The best this can be is fake.” 

_____________________________

“Are you ready for this?” Brock asks you, handing you one of the trays of food you made. “No.”

He smiles at you. “Me neither.” 

You head towards the door of Quinn’s place, ready to be as overwhelmed with the people you were about to encounter as you were two days prior at the game, even if you had already met most of these people. 

Lexie is the first one to greet you, somehow, through the chaos of everyone else around you. She leads the two of you into the kitchen, even though Brock already knows his way around. “I’m stealing her,” she tells Brock, grabbing you by the hand and leading you off to another room while all the guys stand around the kitchen island, somehow the ones in charge of the food.

“It is so good to see Brock so happy,” she tells you, handing you a glass of wine as she poured one for herself. The two of you were alone in the room she pulled you into, leaving you amazed that with that many people in the house, there was even an empty room to begin with. “I mean, those photos he posted of you? You are the most photogenic person I have ever seen.”

“Uh, yeah,” you tell her, knowing that you have to stop stammering everytime you try to give someone an answer. 

“You don’t know about the pictures?” You shake your head. She prompts you to pull up Brock’s page, the most recent pictures one from yesterday.

You scroll through the carousel. The first one, as you saw, was the one of you two before you went out for the day. The second one was one of you in the airport, looking for him. You thought you looked awful, but somehow, he made you look good. The third from the game the other night, one of the photographers probably captured a photo after he scored of him looking at you and smiling at him before he heads to the bench. The fourth and fifth were ones you had no idea he took; when you were looking out at the water yesterday, smiling at the sight while your hair somehow perfectly framed your face, and while you were hunched over the cheese, grating too many cups of the stuff for today. 

“He’s in deep,” Lexie smirks, drinking her wine. 

You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as you looked at the photos, which he captioned, Thankful for you, with your handle tagged. 

“Now it makes sense why I’m getting so many notifications,” you joke, setting your glass down on the table in front of you. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find the bathroom.” 

You head back towards the kitchen, hoping to find Brock there. 

“I’m surprised you actually are dating someone,” you hear someone’s voice in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Brock responds.

“I thought you made her up,” another voice agrees with the first. 

“I’m not Quinn, I wouldn’t do that,” Brock lies.

“That was one time when I was in sixth grade,” the first voice argues.

You hear Brock laugh, your heart fluttering at the sound, immediately hating yourself for that. You’ve known him for a few days, why did you have to remind yourself about that?

“How long have you guys even been together?” Your heart stops,hoping Brock remembered all the things they talked about the last few days. She knew what he should say, but that didn’t mean he would say it.

“Only about two months, I think.” 

“You think?”

“Petey, you know he’s not good with time.” 

You finally work up the nerve to walk into the room, seeing Brock’s face light up at the sight of you. 

He was faking it. 

“Hey, babe,” he says, pulling you close and kissing the side of your head. 

“God, you two aren’t going to be the kind of couple who overdo the PDA, are you?” Petey asks.

“Only if you piss us off,” Brock says, not taking his eyes off you. 

“So, um,” you say, coming back to reality and turning to the other two. “Everything looks great.” 

Quinn looks at the clock on the oven. “We should probably eat soon. The food should be in a couple of minutes.”

“We’ll get everything on the table,” Brock volunteers the two of you, grabbing one of the plates and handing them to you.

“Everything is going well, so far, I think,” you whisper to him once you’re out of earshot of the others. 

“Everyone thinks we’re actually together. I think we might pull it off.” 

_____________________________

The rest of the night went surprisingly well, the attention largely kept off the two of you most of the time as the team seemed to be more interested in teasing each other while their partners rolled their eyes at the guys’ antics. Brock drove you back in silence, a smile on his face the entire time. 

You headed to bed, knowing that you were going to be leaving when you woke up the next morning, part of you dreading the moment Brock would drop you off at the airport. 

He pulled up to the terminal, neither of you moving once he put the car in park. 

“Can I admit something?” he asks. 

“Sure.”

“I don’t think I want you to leave.” 

You look at him. “I don’t really want to leave.”

“But,” he starts.

“I have to.” 

Brock gets out of the car before you could say anything else, heading to grab your bag from his trunk. 

“We were good at fake dating, though,” he says, handing you your bag. 

You nod as he pulls you in for a hug. “Was all of it fake?” You don’t know what compelled you to ask that, other than you not thinking before you speak.

Brock smiles, his arms still wrapped around you. Before you can fully process it, his lips find yours, a sweet, slow kiss as your lips moved together, his hand on the small of your back pressing you into him. 

“No.” 

[bots-and-cons]

University complaining, feat Ratchet

A/N: I’ve got a lot of school stuff going on right now and for the next two weeks, but I wanted to post something, so you can read about the reader complaining to Ratchet about how uni sucks

“Hey Ratch?” you called from the couch.

“What is it?” he asked, turning to look at you, instead of his computer screen.

“Do you want to write my last two essays for me? I’ve done so many assignments in the last month that I feel like if I write one more word, I’m gonna explode” you groaned.

“I would like to help you, but I’m not really knowledgeable about your area of study. Besides, you’re the one who’s supposed to be learning the things you need in order to write those essays” Ratchet stated.

“I know, I know, but you can’t fault me for trying. The end of the semester is always super busy and I’m getting annoyed with the amount of exams and assignments” you sighed tiredly.

“You need to remember to rest too. You should take a break”

“I can’t, I have an exam tomorrow, and I need to finish this book for it” you said, raising your tablet you had the ebook on.

“You can take a half an hour break, it’s the late afternoon and you’ve been reading since you got here in the morning. You won’t retain information as well when you’re getting tired"

"I’m not even that tired, I’m more annoyed, and hungry, and my eyes kind of hurt…” you trailed off. “I see your point”

“Good, then you’re going to take a break?” Ratchet inquired.

“On one condition. You’re going to take a break too, you’ve been working since before I even came here, so you definitely need one” you noted.

Ratchet knew you had a hard time taking breaks, and you wanted to just push through it when you had to do something. So he always conceded when you made him take a break too, since that got you to take one too. You also sometimes seemed to forget that you needed to eat and drink. Or that you shouldn’t stare at screens for so long continuously.

“Fine” he rolled his optics.

“Good, now that we’re in agreement, can you take me to get some food? I’m starving”

“Of course” Ratchet smiled.

“Ah, that smile’s gonna keep me going for the rest of the day” you smirked. “And the food is gonna help with that too”

Ratchet rolled his optics with a scoff, but you could see his smile widening. The old bot wasn’t nearly as grumpy as you had thought when you’d first met him. It had been a couple of years since you and the autobots first crossed paths, but it felt like that time had gone by in the blink of an eye. You were finishing your second full year of university, and the decepticon’s activity had been on the quieter side for a few weeks now. You hoped that it would continue that way, because you would still rather be writing essays than trying to dodge decepticons. Getting to spend time with Ratchet was a bonus for hanging around the base. It was also easier for you to get your assignments done, when you had company. You could both just work on your own stuff, while still being together. It was nice. You just hoped the peaceful quiet would continue.

[venic-bxtch]

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ Meet-Cute ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼Joe Burrow x Ambitious!reader✼

Based on this ask: Hi! Can I request a JB fic where the girl isn’t much interested in the NFL and really focused on work or maybe finding work and then meets Joe. Like their meet cute and him pining for her if that’s okay? Thank you

⭒❃.✮:▹ A/N: LOVEEEEE, this idea🫶🏾

Warnings: none…just fluff as fluffy as a marshmallow!!!

She wasn’t like the other people at the gym. Joe could tell that the second he spotted her on the treadmill, jogging like she was on a mission, earbuds firmly in, completely ignoring everything and everyone.

He wasn’t used to being ignored. People usually gave him a double-take or tried to sneak a photo. But she didn’t even glance his way, and for some reason, that made her more interesting.

Joe wiped his hands on his towel, telling himself to let it go. She probably didn’t want to be bothered. But when he saw her frowning at the screen on her treadmill like it had personally wronged her, he couldn’t help it. He wandered over, hopping onto the treadmill next to hers.

“Hey,” he said, pulling out one of his earbuds.

She startled, glancing at him briefly. “Uh, hi?”

“You’ve got a good pace going,” he said, throwing out the first thing that came to mind.

She snorted—an actual snort—and he liked her even more. “Sure, if the goal is ‘don’t collapse in public.’”

Joe chuckled, slowing his treadmill to match her pace. “That’s a solid goal.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled, and for a second, Joe forgot where he was. There was something about the way her face lit up that made him want to keep her smiling.

“I’m just trying to not freak out before this interview,” she admitted, pulling out her own earbuds.

“Big interview?” he asked, leaning a little closer.

“Sort of,” she said. “It’s my third one this week, and I’m trying to stay optimistic, but it’s been… rough.”

Joe nodded, genuinely interested. “What’s the job?”

“Marketing,” she said, grabbing her water bottle. “But everyone wants experience I don’t have.”

“That’s tough,” he said. “You’ll get there, though. Sounds like you’re hustling.”

Her lips twitched, like she wasn’t used to hearing that kind of encouragement. “Thanks. What about you? You here to blow off steam too?”

Joe hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “Kinda. I’m here for football. Gotta stay in shape.”

Her eyebrows raised. “You play football?”

“Yeah,” he said. “For the Bengals.”

She blinked at him, expression unreadable. “Like… professionally?”

“Yeah.”

There it was. The moment people usually lit up or started asking questions. But she just nodded like he’d told her he worked at the post office.

“Cool,” she said. “Not really my thing, but that’s cool.”

He couldn’t believe it. “You’re not a football fan?”

“Not really,” she said, smiling apologetically. “I mean, I know the basics, but I couldn’t name more than, like, two players. Sorry.”

Joe laughed, shaking his head. “That’s actually kinda nice.”

“What is?”

“Talking to someone who doesn’t care about all that,” he said honestly.

Her smile widened a little, and he felt his chest tighten. She had no idea who he was, but she was still talking to him like he mattered. He wanted to keep her here, to keep the conversation going, to learn more about the determined, slightly frazzled woman in front of him.

But she checked her watch and groaned. “I gotta go. Thanks for the pep talk, though. Uh… sorry, what was your name again?”

“Joe,” he said, grinning.

“Right. Well, thanks, Joe. Good luck with… football.”

As she walked away, Joe watched her go, his heart sinking a little. He didn’t even get her name.

Still, he couldn’t help the stupid smile that stayed on his face the rest of the day. And when he showed up at the gym the next morning at the same time, it wasn’t just for the workout.

Taglist: @joeybsboo @heavyhitterheaux @inmyfeelingsgnocchi @ikeepitlight @iknowdatsrightbih

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

here is part 5! it's not a long as the others, but hopefully this will tide you over till the dinner scene!

(as i said in prev post that won't be posted till latest sunday/monday)

the post/thread that started this whole au

dinner scene: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

there's a masterlist now!

*the next morning*

*in telemachus’ room*

telemachus: *having got up early due to his excitement for later tonight*

telemachus: *looking down at something on his table* i hope he likes this, i can’t believe i spotted it in the market!

athena: *from behind telemachus* who likes what?

athena: *trying to peer over telemachus to see what he’s looking at* what do you have there, little wolf?

telemachus: *jumps in shock, not expecting athena to be there*

telemachus: *quickly wraps something in a silk cloth*

telemachus: *turns to face her* athena!- oh this? it’s a gift!

athena: *owl-like wide eyes and head tilted* a gift? for who?

telemachus: *scratches the back of head with nervous laughter*

telemachus: w-well after you left yesterday, i decided to head to the palace library to look up some more information on the gods

telemachus: i know i said it was other people’s words… but i still wanted to know a little more about lord poseidon, before we met again.

athena: oh-

telemachus: -and! and then i headed down to the market, and i spotted something i thought… i thought he might like it.

telemachus: *looks down at his feet* i know he’s a powerful god and a gift seems like a silly idea… but he’s also fathers’ friend so i just thought-

athena: *smiling and putting her hand under telemachus’ chin to lift it up*

athena: telemachus, you don’t have to be nervous or explain it all to me

athena: my uncle may be very powerful, but i’m sure he’ll appreciate you getting him something.

athena: *internally to herself* and if he doesn’t, i’m positive one look from odysseus will change his mind

athena: *ruffles telemachus’ hair* so there! no need to worry!

telemachus: *smiles*

athena: *putting her hand down and looking back over telemachus’ shoulder*

athena: so, what did you get him?

telemachus: oh! here let me show you!

telemachus: *turns around and moves to the side so athena can come next to him*

telemachus: *moves the silk cloth*

telemachus: what do you think?

athena: *realises what it is* i think… i honestly think he’ll love it

telemachus: *looks at her and smiles again*

*telemachus wraps the item back in the silk cloth and both him athena leave his room*

telemachus: how come you’re here so early anyway?

telemachus: not that i mind! but dinner isn’t till this evening?

athena: what just because its family dinner tonight, i can’t have family breakfast?

telemachus: *laughs*

telemachus: i wonder if mother and father are up yet…

athena: if they’re not, please let me wake your father up

telemachus: um sure? how come though?

athena: *thinks back to when she did early morning training with odysseus*

athena: *remembers the horror on odysseus’ face every time she ‘woke’ him & dragged him out of bed*

athena: oh no reason really

*both head to odysseus’ and penelope’s room*

[isak-dot-gov]

Accidental Reveal - Part Two: Under Pressure

Pairing: Inȇs Bettencourt

Word count: 1393

My Masterlist :)

..............................................................................

It had been a few days since the accidental slip-up on KK Arnold’s livestream, and the buzz around Inȇs’ relationship had only intensified. What had started as a handful of curious comments had snowballed into a full-on internet frenzy. Social media was ablaze with speculation about who Ines's mysterious "girlfriend" could be. While Ines had been hoping the storm would pass, it seemed that every new post or video only fueled the fire.

Worse, many fans had started connecting dots that led straight to you. You, the rising singer whose tour was lighting up stages across the country. Your fans were rabid, and every move you made was closely monitored by the media and dedicated stans. The coincidence of your performance that same night, paired with Inȇs’ comment about watching her "girlfriend’s tour," had everyone buzzing. Your names were suddenly being thrown around together in forums, TikTok breakdowns, and Twitter threads. There were fan theories, edits, and endless speculation—all centred on the idea that you and Ines were secretly dating.

At first, Inȇs tried to stay calm. She told herself it would blow over. After all, no one had definitive proof, and neither of you had made a public statement. But the pressure was mounting. Every time she opened her phone, there were hundreds of notifications—DMs from strangers, comments on her photos, even private messages from people she barely knew, asking if the rumours were true. 

And it was wearing her down.

She was barely sleeping, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. What if the media hounded you? What if the extra attention hurts your career? What if all of this stress started affecting her performance on the court? Ines felt like she was spiralling, the weight of it all pressing down on her chest every second of the day.

It didn’t take long for her teammates to notice.

“Yo, you good?” Paige asked, nudging Inȇs gently with her elbow as they walked to practise one morning. Paige had a way of reading people, and Ines had been off for days now.

Inȇs forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

But Paige wasn’t buying it. Neither was Azz, who was walking alongside them, watching Inȇs with a concerned frown.

“You haven’t been yourself lately,” Azzi said softly. “Is it all the stuff online?”

Inȇs’ stomach twisted, her hands tightening around her phone. She had been trying so hard to act like it wasn’t getting to her, but the truth was, she felt like she was drowning. Every time she scrolled through social media, there was another wave of speculation, another surge of people guessing that it was you.

“It’s just…” she swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s a lot.”

“You need to stop looking at your phone,” Nika chimed in, joining the conversation as they reached the locker room. “That stuff will drive you crazy.”

“I know,” Inȇs muttered, but she couldn’t help it. It was like a car crash—she couldn’t look away. She was so anxious about what people were saying, about how it was all spiralling out of control.

KK, who had been silent for most of the walk, finally spoke up as they sat down to change into their practice gear. “This is my fault,” she said, her voice full of guilt. “If I hadn’t gone live…”

Inȇs shook her head quickly. “No, KK, this isn’t your fault. I’m the one who slipped up. I just… I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Paige, ever the leader, exchanged a look with Azzi, Nika, and KK. “Maybe it’s time we step in,” Paige said, her voice firm. She turned to Ines, her expression serious but kind. “Give us your phone.”

“What?” Inȇs blinked, startled.

“Give us your phone,” Azzi repeated, holding out her hand. “You’re obsessing over it, and it’s making things worse. Let us handle it for a bit.”

Inȇs hesitated. Her phone was her lifeline to you, and part of her felt like if she could just keep checking, she could somehow control the situation. But the other part of her—the part that was tired, stressed, and overwhelmed—knew her friends were right.

Reluctantly, she handed her phone over.

Nika immediately took it and began scrolling through the messages and comments. “This is nuts,” she muttered. “These people have way too much time on their hands.”

Paige sighed. “Welcome to the internet.”

KK, feeling guilty and responsible for the whole thing, took a deep breath. “We should call her.”

Inȇs blinked. “Call who?”

“You know who,” KK said, raising her eyebrows. “Her. You’re not dealing with this alone anymore. We’re going to figure this out together. Maybe it’s time for her to come out here and be with you for a bit. You need her.”

Inȇs felt her heart race at the thought. You hadn’t seen each other in weeks, and she desperately missed you. But with everything going on, would it really help? Or would it make things worse?

“Just trust us, okay?” Azzi said gently, as KK hit the call button on your contact.

---

You had just wrapped up a meeting with your team when your phone buzzed. Seeing KK’s name pop up was a surprise, especially since you hadn’t expected her to call you directly. You quickly excused yourself and answered the call.

“Hey, KK? What’s up?” you asked, wondering if something had happened.

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” KK said, her voice a little hesitant. “We’ve got a situation here with Inȇs, and, well… we think you should come visit.”

There was a shuffle on the other end, and suddenly Paige’s voice came through. “She’s not doing great. The whole internet thing—it’s getting to her, and she’s stressed out of her mind. It’s affecting her, and we don’t know what else to do, so we thought maybe you could help.”

Your heart sank. You had sensed something was off in Ines’s recent texts and calls, but you didn’t realise how bad it had gotten. “She didn’t tell me it was this bad.”

“She didn’t want to worry you,” Nika chimed in. “But it’s affecting her—big time.”

Azzi’s voice was calm but insistent. “She misses you. And honestly, I think having you here, even for a day, would make a huge difference. You don’t have to do anything—just be here.”

You didn’t hesitate. “I’ll make it work. I can fly to Connecticut during her next off day.”

KK sighed in relief. “Perfect. We’ll figure out the details and surprise her. I think she really needs this.”

You nodded, even though they couldn’t see you. “Thank you, guys. I’ll text you my schedule, and we can plan it out.”

The call ended, and you quickly started rearranging your plans. Inȇs needed you, and that was all that mattered.

---

A few days later, it was a rare off day for the team. Inȇs had spent most of the morning in her dorm room, trying to relax, but her mind was still buzzing with anxiety. She had barely touched her phone, following her teammates' advice to disconnect, but it wasn’t helping as much as she’d hoped.

She didn’t expect the knock on her door.

When she opened it, there you were—standing in front of her with a soft smile, your eyes filled with love and concern. For a moment, Ines just stared, frozen in shock.

“Surprise,” you said gently, stepping forward to wrap your arms around her.

The second your arms were around her, the dam broke. Ines buried her face in your shoulder, the weight of everything finally crashing down on her. Tears spilled from her eyes, and she clung to you as though you were her lifeline.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh,” you soothed, rubbing her back. “You don’t have to apologise. I’m here now. We’ll get through this together.”

Inȇs nodded, her tears slowly subsiding as she leaned into your warmth. For the first time in days, she felt a sense of calm wash over her.

From down the hall, Paige, Azzi, KK, and Nika watched with satisfied smiles.

“I knew this would help,” KK whispered.

Paige grinned. “She’s going to be okay now.”

With you by her side, Inȇs knew that no matter what the internet threw at her, she’d be okay too. Together, you’d face the world—one step at a time.

..................................................

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

“even i’m not into that shit”

❤︎ synopsis — the sleep token members being fucking morons and fucking around

pairing: sleep token members x gn!reader (can be platonic or romantic)

theme: crack ✦

a/n: I’M BACK !!!! hopefully i don’t disappear for like a good fifty years after this. this is my third set of stupid ass headcanons. i pulled my shitty humor out of my ass for this one, enjoy !!! (the original ask got swallowed by my dumbass because i accidentally posted the unfinished fic 💀 this is dedicated to my bestie @dead-end-fanfiction)

cw: i think the title speaks for itself

▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆

➵ vessel

i just know this man is the most unhygienic motherfucker to ever exist

more specifically with his teeth. he cannot brush his teeth to save his life

like ??? this all powerful, dark deity, has the most stinky ass breath that if anyone dares to even breath it in, they’d disintegrate on the spot

like what the fuck vessel, you’re better than this

i love vessel but he just does weird shit sometimes

he sleeps butt ass naked

and one time you accidentally walked in on him while he was literally stripping to get ready for bed

he stood there like an npc while you were freaking out

“…. what’s wrong—“ “what’s wrong is that YOU’RE BUTT ASS NAKED IN FRONT OF ME—“

vessel is easily fascinated by human things. i mean - he was once human, so he likes to keep in touch every now and then.

however, out of all of the human things he had to have an obsession with.

… it was rubber ducks

this isn’t even explainable— how do you explain this all-powerful sleep entity to be obsessed with rubber ducks

he literally has a whole room dedicated to his collection of anything rubber duck related. give him a gift that has something to do with ducks and he’s making out with you on the spot

that’s not a joke, he did that with you before

➵ ii

this motherfucker is on his last limb and he’s being held together by paper clips

ii’s not even the leader but he cannot catch a break to save his life

he’s the only one that knows how to cook

one time he left ivy and the vesselettes in the kitchen by themselves. came back to house fires and high pitched screaming that definitely was not from the ladies

ii makes bomb ass banana cream pie though

ik for a fact this man does NOT keep his room clean

you once walked into his room to ask him a favor and there were like - a million drumsticks everywhere on the floor while he sat in the center of it

how does one possess that many drumsticks???

“dude what the f— clean your room!” “it gives me inner peace, y/n. go away.”

ii’s scared of the jollibee mascot

he once went out with his buddies to get some of that fast food. that giant red and yellow fuckass bee then came out of nowhere and spooked the shit out of ii

he then socked the guy in the face so hard the dude wearing the costume had a bloody nose

ii quickly fled the scene to not get arrested

after that he’s had a fear of fast food mascots in general, it’s kinda funny.

don’t bring ii near the jack in the box mascot though, he’s got some trauma from what he’s seen on twitter

➵ iii

zesty ahh mf

plays his bass like he’s fingering someone’s asshole like 🤨 whatcha doin’ iii ??

the type of man to set like fifty million alarms but never wakes up to any of them

however he wakes up everyone else in the process

it gets annoying hearing the “by the seaside” ringtone every morning at 6am. so one day you came into his room and poured ice cold water on him to wake him up

iii didn’t wake up from that btw, you thought it was dead

“…. bro wtf wake up—“

thankfully he wasn’t

biggest kpop stan

he’s a boy group stan and his favorite group is ateez

constantly blasting guerilla too

also i feel like iii owns a tumblr blog too

he’d be out here posting some shih like “pov you’re locked in a room w him for twenty four hours and you have to tickle his balls wyd” 💀

he probably posts also moodboards or some shi and tags them like an actual tumblr blogger

#it took my ahh fifty hours to make this plz repost it

stalks his fans on twitter

gets scared by said fans on twitter

“wdym they wanna get me pregnant”

breaks his bass every four hours during practice and vessel chews his ahh out every time

but it’s funny because you’re always there to help him

➵ ivy

he likes to act like he’s tough shit but ivy is a huge nerd

literally the definition of “magical in bed” except the magic is him explaining the gaming system of magic the gathering

hot asf but has no bitches frfr

also the definition of loser trapped in a hottie’s body

i’d like to believe that ivy has a crunchy ipad kid cough

and i mean CRUNCHY. bro will start choking on his saliva and start coughing like a dying seal

it’s quite hilarious, but also concerning at the same time

the first time you heard him cough like that, you were like 😟

“AEUGH- HEUGH— BEUHSHAK-“ “ivy—“

that pretty sums up the entire interaction

this bitch looks like he ate glue as a kid

more specifically glitter glue. the pink kind.

idk that sounds like ivy

he gets literal death coffee in the morning too btw

no ice. no sugar. straight shots of espresso.

eight shots, btw.

the coffee looks blacker than the black hole.

iii tried some of his coffee one time and spat it all in your face. ivy watched with his hell coffee in hand as you beat the shit out of iii

yeah, safe to say ivy was banned from having that kind of coffee for a while

so yeah. that pretty much sums up the kind of person ivy is

[eliotquillon]

i have to imagine that at some point during chase and cameron’s fwb era, chase went back to aus for a trip. what about a time zones/jealous cam drabble?

sorry this took me FOREVER and is also not really jealous cam but more…pining cam?? argh. but i tried :) set between fetal position and airborne

In the end, it isn’t House who goes on vacation after they discharge Emma Sloan. It’s Chase; he walks into work one morning, a rare day when they’re not both riding in together, shoulders hunched and face pale, and says, “House. I need to talk to you.”

“You know I hate it when you do that,” House complains, but he must see what Cameron sees: the sunken gaze, the tense fingers. Who died, Cameron thinks, but his parents are both dead already. He leads Chase to his office and shuts the blinds. Cameron looks, and looks, and looks. Chase does not look back.

*

“I’m going out of town for a few days,” Chase tells her at lunch. They are attracting stares: the whole hospital knows they’re sleeping together now, no thanks to House. No thanks to me, Cameron thinks, a little guilty, and pushes another forkful of salad into her mouth. “Can you check on my stuff while I’m gone?”

“Out of town?” Cameron presses, selfishly wanting; she regrets it as soon as she says it. Chase presses his lips together, pushes his fries sullenly around his plate. Cameron is all too aware of the choreography. In two hours, the nurses will all be whispering about the big break-up—false for all the obvious reasons, but also because there’s nothing to break up. “What happened?”

“I have to go to Melbourne,” Chase says flatly. “There’s an issue with my dad’s will.”

“But I thought he cut you out of it,” Cameron frowns. She doesn’t mean to be insensitive with her bluntness. She only means to clarify; she had been shell-shocked, when he spat it out bluntly all those months ago, not at the specifics but at the mere concept of it. It’s the sort of thing you hear about, vague family gossip about a friend of a friend, but surely, Cameron had thought, it didn’t really happen. Surely people—mothers, fathers, great-aunts—were never really so cruel as to deliberately strike someone out with their last act in this world, not for no good reason. Chase spears a fry, and does not eat it.

“He did,” he says heavily. “Including the stuff he had no right to cut me out of. Can you do it?”

No, Cameron thinks. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t handle it. I’d be a sobbing mess, not coming into work every day to flirt with a colleague and snipe at Foreman and save people’s lives. Not casually discussing it over lunch. But that isn’t what Chase is asking.

“Of course,” she says, “just leave me the key.”

*

She gets into the routine of it easily enough. It helps that she knows her way around Chase’s apartment already—though, of course, she knows the bedroom best. Cameron stops by every evening on her way home from work to air the place out, sort the mail, check there’s nothing spoiling in the refrigerator. Chase left at the last minute; there are still clothes in his laundry hamper, a towel on the bathroom floor, electronics still plugged in. When she turns on the TV out of idle interest, it is automatically tuned to a sports channel. Cameron laughs, and the way the sound rings out across the empty room makes her feel absurdly guilty.

It would be so easy to pry. She has the experience, after all—years of snooping around patients’ homes, always careful to put things back where she found them, and she’s far more familiar with Chase’s habits and floorplan than she is theirs—and, secretly, she has the desire. Without him here to distract her with his hands or mouth or terrible post-sex cooking, it is easier to admit her own curiosity to herself. It is easier to admit that she wants to know him beyond the scope of what he has already told her. But easier isn’t the same as easy. Cameron closes windows and throws out expired milk. She ignores the bedroom. She always leaves the key behind.

*

It isn’t that she misses him, at work. It’s simply lacking for a case—House is due to fly to Singapore the day after Chase is scheduled to return—and there’s scarcely anything to do. She has brief, cordial lunches with Foreman, spends the mornings doing clinic duty and the afternoons catching up on House’s permanently-backlogged charting. It is all very companionable; she has always liked Foreman well enough, save for the times he has given her reason to be annoyed, and without Chase to wind him up Foreman seems to return the sentiment. He only tries to broach the subject once.

“About you and Chase,” he starts, and Cameron’s pen leaves a dent on her chart.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says. It’s the wrong answer: she should’ve said, there’s nothing to talk about. It’s what she means to say, but for some reason her mouth won’t form the words. Foreman sighs, and his eyebrows make a grand leap of frustration, but he just nods.

“Don’t bring me into it,” he warns, and this time Cameron doesn’t bother trying to correct him.

*

Melbourne is sixteen hours ahead of New Jersey. It is natural, Cameron thinks, to wonder what he might be doing. It is natural, given the circumstances, to wonder if he’s alright. It is not natural to wonder if he misses her, but she finds herself doing that anyway. His voicemail beeps with messages; the sound of the dialtone makes her so irritated that she has to fight the urge to delete them all at once.

*

“Thanks,” Chase says when he comes back to work, jetlagged and small-looking and yet, Cameron hopes, a little pleased to see her. “You didn’t have to clean up after me.”

She didn’t mean to. She didn’t even want to, but her hands were idle and his phone kept beeping and once, while she was intercepting a delivery he must’ve forgotten about, she heard a strange woman’s voice ask about him on the speakerphone, words garbled through the closed hallway door. In Cameron’s experience, it is easier to resist temptation if there is something to be tempted away from. “I don’t mind,” she says. “Did everything turn out alright?”

“More or less,” Chase shrugs. He leans close; he still smells a bit like stale plane air and, Cameron imagines, a certain kind of foreign-ness. “Come over tonight?” he asks in a hopeful undertone.

Cameron is sick of his apartment. She would rather not examine why. “Come to mine,” she says, decisive, and rises to greet Foreman.

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ lawstudent!jimin ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist

friends to lovers / post break-up (oc is going thru a break-up)

uni au (law students)

fluff

//

it feels like jin has been yapping in your ear forever. if not forever, at least a good 15 minutes has passed since this horrific mock trial finished. you’re still here—taking his shit. 

truth be told, it isn’t really shit. he’s not trying to be mean, he’s being himself—critical in the most gentle way possible. but on days like today, it’s difficult for you to differentiate the gentleness and criticism in his words. 

“___, what i’m saying is… next time, if you’re going to wing it—commit to it. it was too obvious,” jin sighs, watching as you stuff your papers into your bag. “jimin had you cornered by the second argument. prep more, and you’ll do fine for the next one—”

“right,” you mumble. “noted. got it. thanks jin. sorry about today.”

you force a tight smile. jin looks at you, not buying it… but he nods and heads off, leaving you alone in the empty classroom.

except, you’re not alone. 

“it’s no fun if you suck, you know.”

you glance up to see jimin leaning casually against one of the desks. he’s loosening his tie as he approaches you. there’s a smug expression on his face, yet there’s a softness in the way he looks at you.

“not in the mood,” you huff, going back to packing and not bothering to spend another second looking at him. “everyone knows it was an off day for me. i’ll be more fun for you next week.”

jimin chuckles, shifting his weight. “okay but—seriously, you went all in on the wrong precedent. if you’d just tied it back to—”

“jimin,” you snap, finally turning on him. your voice comes out sharper than you mean it to be. “i said i’m not in the mood.”

the air stills as he processes the deliverance of your sentance. his smirk quickly fades and is replaced by something more cautious—more caring. 

jimin raises his hands, palms up. “okay, shit. fuck. what’s going on with you?”

you bite your lip hard, but it doesn’t stop the tears that suddenly spill over. 

you and jimin are decent friends. you’ve gone to enough events with him to feel comfortable and have ran in the same circles every now and then. you two are familiar with your personal lives but not in great detail… maybe that’s why you admit the truth instead of brushing it off. out of everyone you know, jimin is the least likely to be nosy and opinionated about what is going on. 

“i—namjoon and i broke up,” you blurt out, your voice breaking. “and this stupid trial, and jin’s feedback, and—i don’t know, it’s just too much right now.”

jimin’s eyes widen, and for a second, he looks completely out of his depth. but then he steps closer, his hand hovering near your back before he finally pats it, awkward but sincere.

“hey,” he says softly. “that must suck. i’m sorry, ___.”

his words… pull you. 

so simple, yet so heavy. before you can stop yourself, you let out a sob. then, another and another… until you’re completely crying and suddenly he has his arms wrapped around your face is buried in his chest. for a split moment, it feels like he holds you so tight that if he lets go—you’d crumble without him. 

“i’ve got you,” he murmurs, one hand rubbing small circles on your back. “let it out. it’s okay. i’m here.”

his words hand in the air as your heart continues to ache. 

you don’t know how long you stay like that, clutching at his shirt as the weight of everything pours out of you but eventually, your sobs quiet. eventually, you pull back and wipe your face with the sleeve of your button up. 

you two stay silent for a moment. only the sound of you catching your breath and the classroom vents humming fills the space. 

then, with a small tilt of his head, jimin asks, “soju?”

you let out a light laugh, shaking your head. 

“we broke up this morning… am i really going to get drunk now? it’s hardly past lunch.”

he smiles, the corners of his mouth lifting in that soft, familiar way that makes your chest ache a little less. “it’s almost 4pm. lunch passed. it’s dinner time.”

“seriously?”

he nods and nods towards the door. “come on. soju on me.”

without another word, jimin reaches over and finishes packing up for you. you watch and listen quietly as he begins to talk about the best meal pairings with soju. he makes you laugh a little more too.

as the two of you leave the classroom, your bag slung over his shoulder, jimin’s mind begins to race. he feels bad about your breakup—of course, he does—but fuck. 

finally. 

namjoon’s a good guy and all and you didn’t deserve to get hurt—but again. 

finally.

jimin has liked you for so long and has been unable to do anything about it because his timing was off. so, he figured he’d wait it out. you and nam joon were a good pair—but something was missing. passion? yearning? love? something like that… 

not to worry—jimin has a feeling he’ll bring those things to the table along with the soju.

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

Xmas Stories From Moonlitwitchdaisy

❅ Concept: Hello everyone! I’m here with a concept I’m super excited about. We’re almost in December, and the Christmas spirit has already kicked in. So, this year, I’ve brought a little gift for everyone, whether you’ve been naughty or nice. I’ll be writing four different Christmas-themed one-shots. I honestly can’t think of a better combination than JJK boys + Christmas.

Before diving into the summaries of the one-shots, there are a few things I’d like to mention.

❅ First of all, the one-shots will contain mature content, so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! It’s only for +18 audience.

❅ Taglist is open. If you'd like to be tagged in a specific one-shot, please leave a comment with its name. You can ask to be tagged in more than one or even all of them. (I just wanted to mention this since not everyone might want to be tagged in all of them ♡)

❅ I’m planning to post the stories every Sunday.

❅ I’m not entirely sure how long the stories will be, but I can promise they won’t be super short. My priority is delivering the fun and vibe of the concept described in the summaries.

Alright then, if we’re past all that, take care of yourselves until the first story drops, and don’t forget to share your thoughts in the comments! Hope you enjoy it (ˆ⌣ˆ)

Last Christmas, I Gave You My A** (Gojo Satoru)

Last year, Gojo Satoru had been a good boy. Well, he’d at least tried. And in return, you gave him the one thing he’d been wanting for a long time. Your ass. That Christmas night was unforgettable for both of you, and you’d promised him that if he could manage to be a good boy again this year, you’d gladly give him what he wanted once more. But could your boyfriend really pull it off? Would he follow to the rules and earn his “dream ass” by next Christmas, or would he mess things up like always and end up on the naughty list?

❅ word count: ? ❅ smut ❅ modern au, santa-elf roleplaying

No One Should Be Alone On Christmas (Nanami Kento)

Ever since moving to Tokyo for work a month ago, you’d been drowning in loneliness. You hadn’t fully adjusted to the people or the city yet, and worse, you were about to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning all alone. At least, that’s what you thought. In an attempt to forget your loneliness, you went to a bar, where you met the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. Other than the fact that he, too, was spending Christmas alone and that he was devastatingly attractive, you knew absolutely nothing about him. If Christmas miracles were real, maybe you could spend this night—and the morning—in Nanami Kento’s arms.

❅ word count: ? ❅ smut, fluff ❅ modern au, one-night stand (?)

It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year! Or Not? (Geto Suguru)

Since the start of November, you’d been busy preparing for Christmas. Everything had to be perfect because this year you were going to celebrate it with your boyfriend and his two daughters. While you and the girls were bursting with excitement, your boyfriend didn’t seem to share the same enthusiasm. A day before Christmas, a huge argument broke out between the two of you, and he said something that shattered your holiday spirit: “You’re not my family.” Your excitement was completely crushed, and it looked like you’d be decorating the gingerbread house alone this year. Before it was too late, Suguru needed to realize his mistake and bring back your holiday spirit. And it seemed like he’d need his daughters’ help for this operation.

❅ word count: ? ❅ smut, angst, fluff ❅ modern au, happy ending

Everyone Deserves A Suprise On Christmas (Fushiguro Toji)

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t a good man. He was an alcoholic and a gambling addict, the black sheep of his family. He thought he was beyond redemption—until he met you. For the first time in his life, this man who believed he was unlovable learned what unconditional love truly felt like. And once he realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, it didn’t take him long to put a ring on your finger. For your first Christmas as husband and wife, you had a big surprise planned for him. You knew Toji hated surprises, but this one was going to change both of your lives forever. How would your husband react to the news of the newest member of your family? Maybe surprises weren’t so bad—especially if they were made on Christmas.

❅ word count: ? ❅ smut, fluff ❅ modern au, accidental pregnancy

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

dividers by @estrelinha-s

[thecheekyblog]

Just a little self check for myself.

Since the beginning of this blog, your girl has been standing on big bizz! Before all of this was in the craziest slacking era i have ever found myself. Now waking up at 5 am to fucking workout and do yoga is becoming a part of my morning routine.

Yes, there are still things i need to improve such as my toxic addiction to TikTok but hey, one problem at a time.

I am super proud of all the little investments i have made that are turning me into the bad bitch i was always born to be.

I will be turning 29 this march and i am so fucking excited for it. I truly thought that it was the end after 25 but the more i grow, the better i look, the more assertive i have become and i am making more money than ever ( even tho i need to improve my saving skills. ).

I wake up everyday and love the woman that i am!

We go through so much as women daily and to still be here, bettering ourselves and get to that bags, I’m so proud of us.

Despite feeling pretty accomplished, i know there is so much more for me to do and be.

So here are few things i personally want to improve for me and things i will do to achieve it:

I want to grow my lash business : giving more hours to lash, posting waaaayy more on ig to promote my business and practice my skills.

Practicing my Korean: i have bought a practice book months ago and now i will finish it, read and writing in kr more.

Do the split: i have been doing a 8min daily of slit stretching. I should be able to do it before the end of December.

I want to weight 67kg by the end of December.

Getting my uniqueness back, i have became blend so i want to be back with my fashionista self Mhkay even got myself two fur coat.

So, this is my check list so far for this year. There are definitely more things that i have to achieve but i have gave myself more time to do so.

Anyyyywayss, i hope we all get what we need and be what we want!