#it’s the first song that popped in my head

[calypso-rt]

road trip!

with the insufferable Rafe Cameron

-> Rafe x F!Reader

You should’ve seen this coming.

I mean, first, your car broke down and had to be taken to the shop.

So, when your best friend called in a frantic apology about car trouble, food poisoning, and possibly a minor curse, you knew you were doomed. Flights were sold out, rental cars were booked, and every other friend headed to the wedding was somehow already out of town.

Which left you with one horrifying, soul crushing option.

Rafe Cameron.

You stare at his name on your phone screen like it personally offends you. Your thumb hovers over the call button as if pressing it might burn your skin.

There has to be another way. A bus? A miracle Uber? A very fast bicycle?

But deep down, you know the truth. If you don’t find a way to get there, you’ll be missing out on one of the biggest moments of your friend's life. And there’s no way in hell you’re going to let that happen.

You take a deep breath, swallow what’s left of your pride, and hit call.

It rings. Once. Twice.

Then...

“Wow.” Rafe’s voice is impossibly smug, like he already knows why you’re calling. “Didn’t expect to see your name pop up. What, did hell freeze over? Pigs start flying?”

You clench your jaw, already regretting this. “Don’t start.”

“I haven’t even said anything,” he says, which is a lie because his tone is practically dripping with amusement. “So? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You inhale sharply through your nose. Just say it. Rip off the Band-Aid.

“I need a ride.”

There’s a pause. Then, the unmistakable sound of him laughing.

It’s not just a small chuckle. It’s a full-bodied, downright delighted laugh. You swear you can hear him grinning.

“Oh, this is amazing.”

“Rafe—”

“No, no, let me enjoy this. You. You, of all people, need me?”

You press your fingers to your temples. “Do you want gas money or not?”

“Gas money? Sweetheart, I don’t need your gas money. What I need is for you to say it one more time. Just so I can fully appreciate the moment.”

You grit your teeth. “I. Need. A. Ride.”

Another pause. Then—

“Yeah, alright.” He says it so easily, like he wasn’t planning on saying no in the first place. Like he was always going to say yes. “I’ll pick you up in twenty.”

You blink. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all choked up about it. Just be ready.”

He hangs up before you can respond.

You stare at your phone, debating whether it’s too late to back out entirely. Maybe getting a bike wasn’t such a terrible idea.

But then, twenty minutes later, Rafe Cameron rolls up in his car, window down, smirk in place, and the smuggest glint in his eye as he calls out:

“Ready for the best road trip of your life?”

This is going to be a long ride.

...

The first hour is tense.

You sit stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the endless stretch of road ahead. Rafe, for his part, lounges behind the wheel like he has all the time in the world, one hand draped lazily over the steering wheel, the other adjusting the radio.

“Jesus,” you mutter as he flips through stations again. “Can you just pick one?”

He clicks past another song. Then another.

“I could,” he says, like it’s a thoughtful decision. “But then how would I find the perfect song to fit our current mood?”

You scoff. “And what mood is that?”

He smirks. “Deep, unresolved sexual tension.”

You whip your head toward him so fast it’s a miracle you don’t get whiplash. “You’re insufferable.”

He laughs. “I mean, you did beg me for a ride, so...”

“Beg is a strong word.”

“Practically groveling.”

“Oh my God, Rafe.”

You sink lower into your seat, face burning in suppressed rage as he chuckles under his breath, clearly enjoying every second of this.

For a moment, there’s silence... until Rafe reaches for the GPS and completely ignores the route you mapped out earlier.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you demand.

“Taking the faster way.”

You frown. “That’s not the faster way.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t! I literally checked last night. My route is better.”

He glances at you like you’ve personally offended him. “I think I know how to read a damn GPS.”

“And I think you have the directional skills of a blindfolded himbo.”

Rafe scoffs, gripping the wheel. “That’s rich coming from someone who almost got lost inside a Target last week.”

Your jaw drops. “I did not—”

“You called me from the home goods aisle panicking.”

“It was a big Target!”

He grins, looking far too pleased with himself. “Sure, sweetheart.”

You glare daggers at him, but before you can fire back, the GPS’s robotic voice chimes in:

“Recalculating route…”

You turn to him slowly, a smirk curling at your lips.

“Oh?” you say, mocking surprise. “What’s this? The GPS thinks I was right?”

Rafe clenches his jaw, white knuckling the wheel.

“I hate you.”

You beam. “No, you don’t.”

He lets out a long suffering sigh. Then, before you can bask in your victory, he suddenly cranks up the radio obnoxiously loud, blasting some overplayed pop song.

You groan, sinking into your seat.

...

The gas station is a godsend.

After what feels like hours of bickering, you practically fling yourself out of the car the second Rafe pulls into the lot. The fresh air is a relief, or at least, it would be, if Rafe weren’t right behind you, stretching obnoxiously like he’s never known a single hardship in his life.

“God, I love road trips,” he says, grinning as he watches you roll your shoulders like you’re shaking off his entire existence.

You ignore him and push through the glass doors, the too-cold AC blasting you in the face. The fluorescent lights hum faintly overhead, and the aisles are stocked with the usual: chips, questionable hot dogs, and enough sugar to give an elephant heart palpitations.

You head straight for the snack aisle, Rafe following too closely behind.

“I’m thinking—" you start, reaching for a bag of your favorite chips.

Rafe makes a disgusted noise.

“Oh, absolutely not.” He plucks the bag from your hands like it personally offends him. “We’re getting road trip snacks, not whatever this garbage is.”

You snatch it back. “Excuse me?”

He gestures vaguely at the bag. “That’s the worst possible choice.”

Your mouth drops open. “Are you insane? This is objectively the best snack in the entire store.”

“Objectively wrong.”

You glare. “Okay, genius, what’s your expert pick?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Beef jerky.”

You actually recoil. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You’re one of those people?”

Rafe smirks. “One of what people?”

“The kind of people who sit in the car, chewing on some nasty, dried-up piece of cow like it’s fine dining?”

He scoffs. “It’s protein.”

“It’s disgusting.”

He places a bag of jerky in the basket anyway. You dramatically shove your chips in beside it, like it’s a battle of good versus evil.

“What else?” he asks, scanning the shelves.

You grab a candy bar. “This.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow. “That’s just straight sugar.”

“Exactly.”

He sighs, tossing in a pack of peanut butter crackers. “Balance.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What are you, my dad?”

Rafe ignores you, moving toward the drink coolers. You trail behind him, still fuming about the beef jerky situation.

He pulls open the glass door and grabs a bottle of water.

You squint. “Water? That’s your road trip drink?”

“Yeah?” He frowns at you. “What’s wrong with water?”

You shake your head in disappointment. “You’re so boring.”

Rafe glares. “Oh, I’m boring? What are you getting, then?”

You grab the brightest, most radioactive looking energy drink you can find and hold it up triumphantly.

Rafe looks deeply unimpressed. “That is going to take years off your life.”

“And?”

He just shakes his head, tossing his water into the basket. “If your heart gives out mid-drive, I’m not pulling over.”

You grin. “I knew you cared.”

Rafe rolls his eyes, marching toward the counter to pay. You follow, watching as the bored looking cashier scans your deeply incompatible snack selections.

When Rafe pulls out his wallet, you immediately reach for yours. “I can pay for mine.”

He tuts, shoving his card into the reader before you can argue. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he says, smirking. “You can owe me.”

You narrow your eyes. “Owe you what?”

His smirk deepens. “Haven’t decided yet.”

You cross your arms, but he just grabs the bag of snacks and saunters out of the store, looking far too pleased with himself.

You sigh, trailing after him.

This road trip is going to kill you.

...

The rain starts suddenly.

One second, the road is dry and clear, then, out of nowhere, the sky splits open, unleashing a torrential downpour so intense that Rafe has to crank the wipers up to their highest setting. The world outside turns into a blurry mess of gray and streaking headlights, and even he slows down, muttering a curse under his breath.

“Great,” you mumble, pulling your hoodie tighter around you. “Just perfect.”

Rafe barely spares you a glance, both hands gripping the wheel. “Relax. It’s just rain.”

It is not just rain. It’s an apocalypse. The wind howls, trees sway dangerously, and the GPS chimes in, completely unhelpful:

“Rerouting… rerouting…”

Rafe exhales sharply. “Fantastic.”

You frown, glancing at the map. “Uh… I think we missed our turn.”

“We did not—”

Lightning flashes. The GPS glitches. And then, as if the universe itself wants to prove a point...

THUNK.

The car jerks. Rafe curses, fighting the wheel as he pulls over to the shoulder. The rain slams against the windshield, making it nearly impossible to see, but you already know what’s wrong.

Flat tire.

You both sit there for a second, staring at the dashboard like maybe, somehow, this is just a bad dream.

Then...

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rafe mutters.

You sigh, already unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ll fix it.”

Rafe’s head whips toward you. “Excuse me?”

You shrug. “I know how to change a tire.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, okay.”

“I do!”

He gives you a deeply skeptical look. “Alright, fine. Let’s see it, then.”

You roll your eyes and push the door open, stepping into the absolute nightmare that is the current weather situation. Rain instantly soaks through your hoodie, the wind nearly knocking you off balance as you march around to the trunk.

Rafe follows, watching as you pull out the spare and drop to your knees to inspect the damage.

You try to focus, really, you do, but the rain is relentless, blinding and cold and miserable. Your fingers slip against the wet metal as you wrestle with the jack, struggling to get it in place.

And then, before you can stop him, Rafe crouches down beside you, scowling as he physically moves your hands out of the way.

“What the hell—”

“You should’ve let me handle it.” His voice is low, grumbly, but not in his usual mocking way. It’s different.

Protective.

You blink up at him, shivering slightly as he moves closer, blocking some of the rain with his body.

“I had it,” you argue, but it comes out softer than intended.

He doesn’t look at you. Just focuses on loosening the lug nuts, his jaw clenched like he’s irritated... but not at you. At the fact that you were out here, in the freezing rain, doing this yourself.

The rest of the job doesn’t take long, and when he finally lowers the jack, he stands, reaching down to haul you up without warning.

You stumble slightly. He catches you easily.

For a second, you just… stand there.

Close.

The rain drips from his hair, his hoodie completely soaked, but all you can focus on is the way his hands linger: one on your wrist, the other still at your waist, like he’s making sure you’re steady before he lets go.

It’s… unsettling.

Not in a bad way.

Just in a way that makes your stomach feel weird and your heart do something stupid.

But then he exhales sharply, like he’s snapping himself out of something, and steps back.

“Next time, just let me handle it,” he mutters. Then, before you can argue, he’s already moving, tossing the tools back into the trunk.

You watch him for a moment before shaking yourself off and climbing back into the car.

The ride after that is… different.

Quieter.

Not in a tense, waiting-for-the-next-argument kind of way, but in a way that feels oddly comfortable.

Rafe leans back in his seat, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually behind your headrest.

And for the first time, it doesn’t feel annoying.

It just feels… warm.

Familiar.

At some point, he reaches over to mess with the radio again. This time, when he flips through the stations, you don’t complain. You just glance at him, shaking your head, lips twitching slightly.

He catches you looking. Smirks.

And you don’t roll your eyes.

Not this time.

...

After the flat tire, the rainstorm, and the unfortunate realization that there were no motels nearby, you and Rafe had been forced to crash in the car overnight. Literally. Him in the driver’s seat, you curled up in the passenger seat, both of you grumbling about how much this sucked before eventually passing out.

Now, you wake up to the smell of coffee.

For a second, you’re disoriented, blinking against the golden light pouring through the windshield. Your neck is stiff, your hoodie is bunched in all the wrong places, and the leather seat sticks to your skin in the worst way.

And then...

A voice.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

You groan, rubbing your eyes. Rafe leans against the open driver’s side door, arms crossed, a smug but noticeably softer smirk on his face.

“We’re at a diner,” he says, nodding toward the neon sign outside. “Figured you’d want real food instead of gas station snacks.”

You blink at him. Then at the diner. Then back at him.

And that’s when you see it.

In his other hand: a cup of coffee.

Your coffee.

You sit up straighter. “Wait, is that...?”

He shrugs. “You take it with two sugars, right?”

You stare at him, momentarily speechless.

Rafe Cameron, your mortal enemy just yesterday, remembers how you take your coffee. And brought you one before you even woke up.

“Uh.” You take the cup hesitantly, fingers brushing his for a split second. “Thanks?”

“Don’t make it weird,” he mutters, turning toward the diner. “Come on. I need real food before I lose my mind.”

You follow him inside, still thrown off by… whatever this is.

The place is quintessential roadside diner. Vinyl booths, checkered floors, an old jukebox in the corner playing a song that sounds straight out of a ‘90s romcom. A waitress with a pen tucked behind her ear waves you to a booth near the window.

Rafe slides in across from you, stretching his arms over the back of the seat. “So,” he says, smirking again, but there’s something different about it this time. “What’s the move? Classic pancakes? Or are you one of those avocado toast people?”

You scoff. “Avocado toast? What do I look like, a health influencer?”

He grins. “Hey, you give off the vibe.”

You kick him under the table. He chuckles.

The waitress reappears, flipping open her notepad. “What can I get y’all?”

You glance at the menu quickly before ordering the pancake combo. Rafe orders an omelet, then, as the waitress starts to walk away, he calls out:

“Oh, and... can we get extra syrup?”

You freeze.

You always ask for extra syrup. You were literally about to say it.

You narrow your eyes at him. “How do you...”

He just shrugs. “You like extra syrup. You always complain when there isn’t enough.”

Again, you’re momentarily speechless.

Rafe doesn’t just remember things about you. He notices them.

And now, in the warm morning light, with his hoodie slightly rumpled and his hair messier than usual, he looks…

Less like the cocky nightmare who laughed when you asked for a ride.

More like the guy who fixed a tire in the rain without hesitation.

Who made sure you had coffee before you even woke up.

Who just ordered extra syrup for you.

“Okay, who are you,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, “and what have you done with Rafe Cameron?”

Rafe tilts his head, considering. Then, lazily, he smirks. “Maybe you just bring out the best in me.”

You roll your eyes, but this time, it’s harder to ignore the way your stomach flips.

And when the food arrives, when he casually slides the syrup your way before you can even reach for it, you’re pretty sure you’re screwed.

...

By the time you finally pull up to the wedding venue, a sprawling lodge tucked into the mountains, the sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. It looks ridiculously picturesque, like something out of a movie.

You, on the other hand, look less picturesque.

“I swear to God,” you grumble, twisting around in the passenger seat to grab your overnight bag, “if my hair is permanently flattened from sleeping in the car, I’m blaming you.”

Rafe snorts, shifting the car into park. “Please. You’ve looked worse.”

You turn to glare at him, only to find him already looking at you. Except this time, there’s no evil Rafe smirk. Just… something else. Something softer.

It throws you off so badly that you almost forget to respond.

Almost.

“Thanks,” you deadpan. “That’s exactly what every girl wants to hear before walking into a wedding.”

Rafe chuckles, shaking his head before pushing his door open. You follow suit, stepping out into the cool mountain air.

Up ahead, the venue is already buzzing with activity: people unloading suitcases, music drifting from somewhere inside, laughter echoing across the lot. Your best friend is probably freaking out over last minute details.

And you?

You’re standing beside Rafe Cameron, staring up at the lodge like you haven’t just spent the past twenty four hours begrudgingly trapped in a car with him.

Like you haven’t spent the past two hours noticing little things you weren’t supposed to.

Rafe stretches, rolling his shoulders before glancing at you. “You good?”

You nod, but before you can take a step, he reaches over and tugs your hoodie into place.

It’s nothing. Just a small adjustment, fingers barely grazing your shoulder. But the second it happens, your breath catches.

It’s stupid, really. After everything, the bickering, the bad directions, the gas station argument, this is what gets you?

A two second fix?

But when you glance up at him, there’s something unreadable in his expression. Something that lingers for half a second too long before he clears his throat and steps back.

You swallow. “Uh. Thanks.”

“Yeah.” His voice is quieter than usual.

For the first time since this whole trip started, you have no idea what to say next.

So instead, you hoist your bag higher onto your shoulder and nod toward the lodge. “We should… probably go find everyone.”

Rafe nods once. “Yeah.”

Neither of you move right away.

And when you finally do, when you walk side by side toward the entrance, the glow of the venue lights spilling onto the gravel path, you can’t shake the feeling that something just shifted.

Like maybe, just maybe, this trip isn’t over yet.

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

Bad decisions // Quinn Hughes

No god, no religion … just bad, bad decisions

Summary: Quinn gets dragged to his girlfriends favourite bands concert despite it not being his favourite genre, but all it took was one song to change his mind.

Warnings: drinking, swearing, light fluff, pda (18+)

── ∘◦ ⛤ ◦∘ ──

“I can’t believe you’re dragging me to this.”

“Hey, you knew what you were getting yourself into dating me.” I commented as I applied my lipstick, looking back at Quinn in my mirror.

I wasn’t wrong, but I also never expected him to pursue someone like me either. I wouldn’t really consider myself an “alternative” or “goth” girl though. I had black hair, tattoos and listened to heavier music but I preferred wearing aritzia sweat suits, doing Pilates and swapped wing liner out for clean girl make up. Still, I wasn’t the stereotypical girl that most hockey players go for. I remember the first time I met Quinn and how terrified I was to take my sweater off and expose my full sleeve. But much to my surprise, he couldn’t keep his hands off me. Actually, any time I went to get a new tattoo he came with me and held my hand the entire time. It was a kind of intimacy I never thought I would find.


“I know, I’ve just never been to a concert like this. What if I get stuck in the middle of a mosh pit? Also how loud is it gonna be?”

I chuckled, zipping my boots up, “we’ll stay along the side, and yes, bring earplugs.”

“Oh god.” He groaned, throwing his head back on the couch. “You are so lucky I love you.”

“Well…” I trailed off, standing between his legs, leaning over and gripping onto his thighs. “If you’re on your best behaviour, I’ll reward you for it.”

Quinns head popped up as I peaked his interest. “What kind of reward?”


“Whatever you want.” I replied, hovering over his face. His lips ever so slightly brushing against mine, “but you need to be a good boy.”

“I’m about to become the biggest Bad Omens fan you’ve ever seen.”

About an hour later we arrived at the venue, my stomach was filled with butterflies from excitement. I’ve been a huge Bad Omens fan since 2016 and this was my first time seeing them post-covid. Their new album had been out for over a year and I played it so much I think Quinn was getting sick of it, but I would catch him mouthing the lyrics when he thought I wasn’t looking. This man tried to convince me he only listened to rap and country, but I firmly believe he didn’t want to admit he likes my music. I think he was paranoid his brothers or his teammates would tease him for it.

“I think you’d look really hot in that shirt.” 

Quinn and I waited in line at the merch booth before the concert, which was incredibly long. I saw a hoodie on display that I really liked so I wanted to see if they had it in my size. Another shirt caught my attention and I fully envisioned Quinn wearing it with his black Levis, a backwards hat and his white nikes. Just the thought of it made my knees buckle. 

“You think so?” Quinn leaned his head down to take a better look at the shirt in question. His cheek brushed against me, making his cologne hit my nose. It was the perfect mix of sage and cedar. I gently kissed his cheek, a bashful smile appeared on his face before he pressed his lips to my temple.


“Absolutely. I mean, you make everything look good.” I breathed, still reeling from his lips, “but I’d love to see you in that.”


“If you say so.” He smirked as it was our turn. He bought my hoodie for me along with a signed vinyl, and the shirt I told him to get. He sent me the most devilish grin as he tapped his credit card, knowing he just made me incredibly happy.

We made our way towards the stage, it was already pretty packed so I suggested we stood at the back near the sound booth. That way we would be out of the way of any crowd surfers or mosh pits because no one was dumb enough to fuck around expensive sound equipment. The concert was everything I hoped it would’ve been and more. The openers, I see stars and Erra put on incredible sets. Quinn looked like he seen a ghost when Erra came out, considering they were a little heavier than I see stars were, which made him look so adorable. Towards the end of their set, he was more impressed than scared which was a relief. Small smirks kept showing up on his face that he desperately tried to bite back but he couldn’t.

“You surviving?”

“Yeah, thank you for bringing me.” Quinn replied taking a sip of his drink, “I’m actually having a lot of fun.”

“Good, I’m glad.” I mused, “we haven’t even got to the best part yet.”

Before he could say anything, the lights went dark again and Bad Omens slowly made their way to the stage. My heart was rapidly racing in my chest as the boys opened up with Artificial Suicide. I immediately started jumping up and down, screaming the lyrics, completely forgetting about the world around me. Every now and then I would look up at Quinn, who just had the biggest smile on his face watching me enjoy myself.

Halfway through the concert, the band slowed the pace down, which came at the perfect time. My drinks were starting to hit me, making my head feel lighter than normal. The melody for Bad Decisions started and I immediately fell back into Quinn, becoming enamoured with how his breath crept along my neck.

Her skin feels unholy, but I'm still drawn

The morals I'm holding, you know they're gone…

His arms wrapped around my stomach as he slowly swayed us back and forth to the beat, slow and reverberating. His skin felt warm to the touch as his chin rested gently on my shoulder. The low vibrations from the song along with the siren red lighting was stirring something up in me. My hips instinctively rolled into him, feeling overstimulated by every single sensation that took over my body. I knew Quinn wasn’t complaining, considering I felt him twitch through his jeans.

You can be all I got, what's the difference?

Hennessy and a lot of bad decisions

All I know is bad, bad decisions

Quinn brushed my hair away from my shoulder, slowly planting kisses on my exposed shoulder. Each kiss nonchalantly making their way up to my neck, then my jaw, causing goosebumps as his week old stubble grazed my skin. My eyes stayed shut, as his lips dragged all over me. An audible gasp left my mouth as he lightly nipped at my skin, gently sucking, leaving his mark on me.

“Turn around.”

I turned around, his arms found me again and bringing me closer to him. My hands found their home in his hair, enveloping his curls between my fingers. The soft aura of the red lights made his green eyes the perfect muse in this dark room. I was so lost in him that I forget where we were, the crowd completely melted away from us and it was almost as if we were the only ones here. He had that effect on me, he knew how to make me feel like I was his, and only his. His forehead pressed lightly against mine, lips hovering so close I could taste the whiskey on his breath. The gap was finally closed, his mouth enveloping mine as I turned into putty in his hands. Our tongues danced together as the song was getting close to the end, but Quinn didn’t seem to care. He pressed me harder against his body, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and kissing me with such desperation. He never gave me any chances to come up for air, his lips stayed glued to mine as if my mouth gave him a new breath of life.

Bitter ends to the night, I'm along for the ride

Out of breath, out of time, everything has a price

We broke apart and the smallest smile curved at the side of his mouth as he trailed his thumb along my mouth. Neither of us realized the band started to play What do you want from me? shifting the energy in the venue. The music slowly filled my ears like I was underwater and coming up for air finally. I smiled back at him, I was in a complete state of euphoria.

“Okay you win.” Quinn said into my ear as I gripped onto his shirt to keep my composure. “I definitely just found my new favourite song.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.” I mused as I had a lightbulb moment, “we need to get you into the pit.”

“Babe, no -“

I grabbed his hand and drug him into the crowd. Everyone was moving around and having the best time. I had to admit this was one of their better songs and it’s physically impossible to stay still during it. Quinn stood there frozen before giving in and started to jump around with me, not daring to let me out of his grasp. He sung the lyrics he was embarrassed to admit he knew with me, caught a guitar pick for me and held me as I cried during Just Pretend.

“Holy fucking shit, this guy is an animal.” Quinn gasped as the lead singer, Noah let out the most primal, gluttonous screams during the encore of dethrone. He wasn’t wrong though, I could feel those screams in my bones.

The concert finally ended, tears prickling my eyes as black and red confetti stuck to us and covered the entire floor. I didn’t want to leave but we had to. That was the best concert I’ve never witnessed and it felt so bittersweet that it was over.

“So, have I been a good boyfriend or what?”

I just chuckled as we made our way outside. The cold air hit my face and it felt like heaven after being a sweaty mess for three hours. We got into the car and Quinn leaned over to help me with my seat belt. I never once questioned why he started doing it, but I wasn’t about to complain about my boyfriend being this close to me at any given moment. His eyes were a perfect shade of green, the kind of green you wanted your morning matcha to be. They peered so deeply into mine I didn’t realize he asked me a question.

“So what’s my prize?”

“You’ll find out when we get home.”

[chrissturnsfav]

hello!! Can you write something about rapper Chris and singer reader at the Grammys and one of them wins best album??? Love your work btw <3

⋆.˚✮ singer!reader gets her first grammy

the energy at the grammys is suffocating—cameras flashing, voices buzzing, celebrities everywhere pretending they aren’t trying to compete with each other. you don't really like events like this, even though they’re part of your life now. it's just so fucking overwhelming, so good thing chris is here.

he’s sat in a manspread beside you, wearing a sleek black suit with a black tie, jaw set like he's bored out of his mind. he taps his thumb on his knee, probably counting beats in his head.

you fidget with the sequins on your pretty mini dress, nerves tightening your chest. "i’m gonna throw up," you mutter under your breath.

chris doesn’t even blink. "nah, you ain’t," he scoffs, lightly nudging your shoulder with a smirk, his voice is calm, gravelly. "you built f'this shit, kid."

you shoot him a look, furrowing your brows with a small smirk. "that supposed to make me feel better?"

he grins, lazy and cocky. "you tell me," he shrugs.

before you can snap back, the presenter’s voice booms through the speakers. your name rings out like some surreal echo.

"and the grammy goes to..."

you freeze. the applause hits you like a wave. it’s loud, disorienting. you've just won the award for best pop song of the year. how the fuck...

your realization is interrupted when chris leans in, close enough for you to hear over the chaos. "get your ass up there."

your legs feel like jelly, but somehow you stand. the walk to the stage is a blur—faces, lights, a hundred thoughts colliding in your brain. you grip the golden statue like it might float away.

"uh," you start, voice shaky, letting out a nervous laugh, "wow. this is... wild."

"well, i didn’t prepare anything ‘cause i really didn’t think i’d be up here, so... bear with me."

there’s a soft ripple of laughter from the crowd, but you barely hear it. your eyes instinctively find chris. he’s still seated, staring at you with that sexy stupid smirk that hits you right in the chest. it’s somewhat of awe, but also pride.

you swallow hard. "i wanna just say thank you to my team, my family, everyone who’s been in my corner through all the highs and lows. i wouldn’t be here without you."

your voice steadies, warmth creeping in. "and to chris..." you pause, lips twitching into a smirk as you chuckle quietly. "thank you for always being so supportive and positive."

his brow quirks, lips curling into that signature half-smile.

"even if you’re annoyingly right most of the time," you add, a little sass creeping in.

the audience laughs. chris shakes his head like you’re ridiculous, but his grin says otherwise.

"thank you so much," you finish simply, heart full and light as you step back from the mic. "couldn't be more thankful, this truly doesn't even feel real."

the applause follows you down the stairs, but all you care about is getting back to your seat. chris is already standing, waiting.

"see? you killed that," he says, voice low and smooth.

"did i?" you tease, still catching your breath.

he leans in close, shades slipping down his nose. "told you, you ain’t built like these other girls."

you roll your eyes, trying to downplay the way your chest tightens. "you’re so fucking cocky," you snicker.

"nah, m'just right," he shrugs, the smirk on his plush lips deepening.

you laugh despite yourself, knowing damn well he’s never gonna let you forget this moment.

his smirk morphs into a soft smile, one of awe and adoration as his eyes soften. he slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side and kissing the top of your head. "proud o'you, mama. knew you'd get this shit one day," he mumbles in a soft whisper against your hair.

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @mattsbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @mattysketchup , @coquettechris , @courta13

@chrissturnsfav ™

[theoi-crow]

this is the weirdest question ever but in your most recent post you mention crying on Aphrodite's lap. how do you do that with a deity because I could definitely go for a good cry sesh with apollo rn

This isn't a weird question at all!

I think it's very important to be comforted by your gods when you need it the most:

The gods often send me images in my mind’s eye that have an aura attached to them that feels neon. That's how I can tell the difference between my own thoughts and their messages. Like I'll be doing something, ask a question and get a mental image with a neon red aura pop up and it's Ares answering my question so sometimes when I cry I'll often get an image with a neon pink aura of me crying on Aphrodite's lap sent to me. That's how me and the gods communicate, but you can do this simple exercise to have your gods comfort you when you need it most.

Quick disclaimer: be very gentle with yourself if you suffer from intrusive thoughts or if it's hard to differentiate your thoughts from the ones the gods send you. For now don't worry about if it's your imagination or the gods sending images because you're building a new way for them to communicate with you. When you get more used to doing this, they'll start to send you images now that you've built an avenue for them to send mental messages to you.

So for this exercise we're gonna be using your imagination.

1) First, pray to your god and tell them you wish to be comforted by them.

Apollo is very kind and likes being a source of comfort so I'm sure he'll be okay with it but I'm putting it here for anyone else who wants to use this method and feel weird doing it without asking their gods for permission first.

2) Next, I want you to have a clear image of the god you wish to be comforted by.

Imagine their hair length, hair color, skin color, how tall they might be, eye color, eye shape, nose, mouth, chin, body shape, body size, are they wearing clothes and if so what kind? (I've never seen Aphrodite wear clothes when we talk so I hope you don't think this question is too weird), are they wearing shoes? What kind? Etc. Or you can imagine an animal version of them if that's easier.

3) Now hold that very clear image of your god and imagine them sitting while your head is on their lap.

If you want, you can also imagine them stroking your hair and saying comforting things. Aphrodite often does this and tries to help me understand the situation or help me sort my feelings.

You can also play a song that really hits home for you at the moment if you want to vibe to the music while holding this image as well. I often play a Billie Eilish song when Aphrodite comforts me (Lovely ft. Khalid is usually my go to).

4) I want you to get in the habit of imagining this image of Apollo comforting you everytime you need it.

Feel like crying? Lay down in your bed or a couch and imagine your head is on his lap and he's comforting you. Put on a song, and talk to him about what's upsetting you. You can also imagine them hugging you if that's what you need. Just use this same method plus a pillow or stuffed animal that helps you hug them back because:

Apollo also gives the best hugs.

[mqriuss]

kpop idol au yuzuha x fem idol!reader (Part 2)

jesus christ there's not a lot of you but i expected like two people to read my rambling BUT IM GLAD THE FEW OF YOU THAT READ IT ACTUALLY LIKED THE KPOP IDOL YUZUHA so here's more !!

part 1

i can't keep calling the character's members of your group/your group member/yuzuha's group members, so we need to give them names!!!

... i sat here for like 5 minutes i can't think of group names SO let's just move on to member's names lmao (feel free to give me group name ideas!)

your group members:

you

eunjung

sunhee

miyoung

hyunjae

yuzuha's group members:

yuzuha

haeun

haejung

yunhee

kyungmi

ok now that that's out of the way

your fans love it when you and yuzuha's groups make a comeback at the same time cuz that means they get sooo much interactions during the promotion era.

like music shows are so fun. the fans and shippers are so well fed bc you and yuzuha are (suspiciously) close with each other, the amount of photos and videos you have together are endless. and i haven't watched these in a while but you know when idols like vlog themselves for their youtube channel? yeah, best believe yuzuha will always appear on your group's channel and vice versa.

"oh, and there's y/n," sunhee says, panning the camera over to you. you were eating a snack while getting your hair done before your performance. looking over to the camera sunhee held, you did a little wave. then someone else's head pops into view, "yuzuha is here too for some reason," sunhee snickers, knowing exactly why she's here.

"hey, guys! lemme borrow y/n for a sec, okay?" yuzuha grins, waving at the camera.

username01: sunhee sounds like she knows something we dont

→ username02 replied: it's like i can hear her smile from behind the camera lmao

also, don't forget the tiktok challenges! with every comeback, each of your group's fans are always always expecting the two of you to make tiktoks with each other's new songs.

username01: chat it's been days why haven't we gotten a single y/nzuha tiktok challenge

username02: if we don't get y/nzuha doing each others' tiktok chalenges i will seriously end it all

username03: my theory is that y/n and yuzuha fought over something so it's taking them long to make a tiktok

→ username04 replied: NO WAY they were interacting just fine on the recent show

→ username05: you may never know, idols are good at faking smiles

yet here you sat with yuzuha on the inkigayo stairs, laughing together when she showed you the comments your desperate fans were making.

"oh my god, you're right! they literally expect it from us now," you say in between laughs. it's no wonder this was how fans reacted—i mean, you two were always one of the first to post tiktok challenges. so you purposely tried to mess with the fans by giving them absolutely no content this time around to see if they'll notice.

and like, what were you expecting? of course they'll notice!

y/nzuha shippers are the worst because they genuinely feel like their ship is real. like gayer and realer than any other kpop ship out there, and you and yuzuha feed into it so much. even though you were rivals, this shipping thing is actually beneficial to both of your groups. almost all of your group's fans are also fans of yuzuha's group and vice versa bc of your ship. your duo with yuzuha is even more popular than the duos in your respective groups.

ok anyways, so you and yuzuha finally get up and decide to make some tiktoks together and you decided—after depriving your fans of y/nzuha content, you were going to release ALL the tiktoks you made that day. two of them were your group's respective tiktok challenges, then there was like one thirst trap, two of the tiktoks were like those couple trends—yes your fans went crazy and that is an understatement, and then another random tiktok dance challenge.

username01: they disappear for days AND THEY COME BACK WITH A FEAST

username02: y/nzuha nation, how does it feel to suffer from success?

username03: what the FUCK i was literally just talking about y/nzuha doing this chalenge AND THEY ACTUALLY DID IT... y/n or yuzuha has got to be my oomfs

→ username04 replied: y/n is more likely to be oomf methinks

username05: Y/NZUHA THIRST TRAPPING ON THE OFFICIAL ACCOUNTS SOMEBODY HOLD MY HAND

both you and yuzuha lurk on social media a lot and it's to see the fans reactions to basically anything, you're both hardworking idols—seeing what the fans like and absolutely milking it—in this case, y/nzuha. it's just a cute thing at first like "aw look, yuzuha and y/n used to be on that traumatizing survival show and they're still hanging out and really good friends."

and then it started getting serious like you weren't just a duo anymore, you're a ship. well, you have been since the survival show but with your debuts, you both started getting more fans and as a result, more shippers.

the both of you just look at each other, already plotting different ways to make fans go crazy. your managers had to stop you guys from posting a really really suggestive thirst trap one time, even your members have to give you guys warnings every now and then like you two better cool it!

you also have known for a while now that views aren't really authentic anymore in the kpop industry because of the streaming stuff. your rivalry with her doesn't really show when they announce winners at a music show. but your fans do get a bit of nostalgia when you guys post content together.

username01: this video of yuzuha and y/n is literally just them trying to outsing each other

→ username02 replied: if they ended up in a group together, we could've gotten another girls generation song where every vocalist outsings the other

→ username03 replied: ACTUALLY THO cant we just merge their groups? can they collab already?

or like you know how sometimes, you don't see idols putting in that much energy into each other's tiktok challenges? (no shade btw)

yeah, that could never be you and yuzuha. in every video, fans have noticed you guys have to glance at each other while dancing. giving looks that say "i'm doing your choreo better than you are."

oh your rivalry would also show in variety shows. there isn't really any room for rivalry in terms of music and popularity 'cause you can hardly control how fans view you and if anything, you both are always so supportive of each other's careers. so when you get a chance to go against yuzuha, you take the damn chance.

variety shows are definitely nostalgic for the fans 'cause you two refuse to team up with each other for games unless you were assigned to the same team. fans eat it up so much, there would be so many clips going around on tiktok, instagram and twitter.

while we're on the topic of rivalry, ISAC is a big day for y/nzuha nation.

when everyone finds out yuzuha was the head of the kyūdō club in high school, they're immediately expecting her to win in archery. but you practiced longg and hard to go against her.

now imagine the fans reactions when they find out yuzuha herself helped you train for ISAC lmfaooo

i think that's all the rambling i have for now but here's a bonus: new fans or non-fans of your groups mistake your ship name for y/n x kazuha of le sserafim instead of yuzuha and it's the funniest day on twitter ever. y/nzuha stans attacking them for not knowing it's yuzuha and all 💀

you share a selfie with kazuha after that day for funsies. let's just say, you kinda... sorta... maybe started a little fanwar. but y/n x yuzuha shippers aren't the only ones getting a little jealous. :)

[epwritten]

could've been ~ l.m

"People change, it's up to them"

Description: In which you and Minho have an awkward conversation after the two of you broke up.

Word Count: 2K

Author's note: I was going to originally write this for Felix, but Lee Know kept coming in my head. So I said screw it, we're making this a Minho one shot. I hope you like it!

Additional note: college au, ex's, memories, 2nd pov ('you' format). Minho's a bit mean if that counts as a warning? Not necessarily a happy ending, but still content enough.

Hope you enjoy reading! <3

People changed all the time. It was a part of life.

This was the reminder you played over and over in your head as you made your bed that morning. Everyday was feeling numb and the same. You woke up at around 7 to the sound of your alarm. You took a shower and brushed your teeth. You got dressed. If you had an appetite you would usually make toast and have orange slices on the side. If it was like a day like today where you felt more numb that usual, you grabbed a protein shake and left the kitchen. You'd be out the house before your parents were awake, on your way to work, which you had to be in by 8:30.

You put music in your ears. Nothing like classic R&B or sad songs you loved, but something upbeat like pop or rap that would try to distract you from how you were truly feeling. Because if you were to listen to what you were really feeling there'd be problems and you couldn't afford that. Not when you were at least trying to get better and move on.

But the music choice would be good, you concluded as you turned up the volume. You also worked at the front counter at the campus gym. The place was upbeat anyway.

It wasn't until you arrived at the gym did you feel a harsh cold wind. Your hands flew to your arms as you hugged yourself, looking around in confusion. It was the start of spring, a chill day in April and yet you felt like you were trapped in a freezer.

You spotted Rob, one of your co-workers. He was nice, about a decade older than you, and the one that first helped you during your first few days at work.

"The air condition can't turn off. It's been on overnight at high." Rob told you. You noticed fog escaped his breath.

"Did you call someone?" You asked.

"Yeah, the HVAC technician should be here in an hour. The gym itself is not as cold, but I'm heading to a meeting upstairs and someone needs to stay at front desk while I'm out." Rob said. He shot an apologetic look, but you shook your head.

"It's fine, I can stay here I'll just-"

You stopped talking as a lightbulb went over your head. Your dad was a professor at the same college you attended and worked at, and he would be teaching a morning class. His class didn't start until 9, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go by now. So you had an idea.

You looked at Rob as you got out your phone. "I'll be fine. I'm going to ask my dad if he can drop off a hoodie for me." You said.

Rob nodded. "Okay, thanks a bunch." He gave a final smile before he left and headed up the stairs.

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers cold as you typed. It was ridiculously cold and you absolutely needed to feel warmth immediately. The worse part of the whole thing was that you had a weak immune system. Anytime there were weather changes you had to be extra careful and take precaution so that you wouldn't be sick. And it would happen. You would always get the flu or something, but you didn't want to get it this time.

You varied between pacing behind the desk, putting your hands in your jean pockets, and hugging yourself. You felt goosebumps on your forearms and your teeth were slightly chartering.

Who in their right mind turned the air conditioner to the highest level anyway? It wasn't even a scorching day in August yet?

The usual Monday crowd strolled in. They signed in, made little small talk, and then headed straight to the weights. You tried to be as professional as you could, remaining focused on your work as you signed each person in. Maybe the cold helped with that for a bit, but it wasn't until a guy who came in with iced coffee or headphones around his ears did it make you think of someone.

When you were by yourself, you looked ahead, trying not to think about what would cloud your mind but you knew it would come eventually. Everything reminded you of him, but this place was a literal gym, if not THE gym he used to go to.

Now you weren't even sure where he'd go.

You took a deep breath, drumming the table as you closed your eyes and tilted your head just enough for your neck to crack. Satisfied, you did it on the other side too. There was no better feeling than to release unwanted stress and tension.

The door suddenly opened, and the warm air made you open your eyes. You smiled when you saw your dad in his classic suit and suitcase come in. You checked the time on your computer screen.

"You're here early." You commented. He would usually come about an hour later.

"I know, but when you say there's a broken air conditioning and they left you here to freeze in a t-shirt? That's not happening on my watch." He said, walking over to give you a side hug.

He felt your arm. "You're a block of ice!" He said shocked. You had to giggle at his concern.

"I grabbed the biggest hoodie I could find. It was in your closet." He said, handing you a grey hoodie that was slung over his shoulder.

You blinked, staring at it for a second as you slowly took it from his hands.

"Alright, I'm going to go over my lecture. You're all good now, right?" Your dad asked.

You nodded. "Yes. Thanks, dad."

He left the gym, shuddering as he opened the door. He turned and pointed to you on his way out. "Wear the hoodie immediately!" He yelled.

"Okay!" You said, shooting a thumbs up.

When the door closed, you sighed. You could feel the fabric, or check the design, or even smell the piece of clothing. But you didn't have to.

Because you still, even after all this time of distance, knew it wasn't your hoodie. It was Minho's.

You ran fingers through your hair as you sighed, looking at the grey oversized hoodie that was placed on the counter. How could have still had this? You thought you gave everything back.

But it had been months. Two months and seven days exactly (though who's counting?). Couldn't Minho have noticed on of his hoodies missing and asked for it back?

You sat in the stool now, still staring at what was once your blanket of memories. It wasn't your dad's fault, he didn't realized what he grabbed. The poor man probably read your text and ran without a second thought. He knew the breakup was hard, he would have never took Minho's hoodie for you to wear intentionally.

But here you were, now faced with this reality. You still had this one hoodie in your closet. And now you were freezing. You considered the options. You could wait until the technician guy came in, and just freeze for one more hour. By that point your fingers would go completely numb. But would it be worth it? What would be the point of that? If you were freezing, and there was a hoodie that was right in front of you, no one in their good mind would reject that.

But would they reject it if it was from their ex?

You let out a sigh but knew what you had to do. It was either your health, or nothing. It wasn't worth it to get sick just because you didn't use what would help you right there in the moment, even it was Minho's.

You took the hoodie that was starting to be chilly itself and then brought it over you to wear. An action you've done so many times, but you never thought there'd be a day when it caused you pain.

Once it was worn you suddenly remembered that it was a custom made hoodie that one of his friends got for his birthday. In small but still visible cursive print on the left side read the letters L. M.

You were now after breaking up with him, wearing his initials again.

This. Was. Torturous.

You put the hood of the hoodie over your head and pulled down the sleeves just slightly so you could continue working with sweater paws. You were grateful now that you were shivering anymore, and whatever feeling of soreness that wanted to start in your throat was now coming down. You knew it was way better to save your health. The technician would be here soon and you could take the hoodie off.

The busyness of the job came in shifts. One moment it would be slow, then out of nowhere, a while wave of people would come in. Each of the conversations were similar. They asked about the cold, you told them about the problem, they asked if the gym was closed, you told them they could still work out and the gym itself was fine. After the current wave you just passed (which dealt with way too much energy for a 9am) you finally had a chance to sit down. You mindlessly rested your head against the desk, wanting to be still for a moment. But after a few seconds your head jolted up.

The hoodie still smelled like him.

It was ridiculous. Maybe you were paranoid. You had washed this hoodie several times, how could you have smelled his scent?

You missed it. The natural one. You liked his cologne as well of course, but it was the snug moments where if you cuddled on the couch, and if you were wearing his clothes and he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly, you would be surrounded by a fresh dove springtime smell. It immediately gave you the memories and you tried to now look at the computer, then down to the view of the gym, anything to get your kind off of it.

You weren't struggling as much as you once were, when the breakup was still a few days old. You weren't necessarily going to lie and say you were happy and all better, but you were just numb now. Numb to the feelings, and also numb to the memories. But now, as you sat in your ex boyfriend's hoodie, it was playing a bunch of tricks on your brain. Suddenly you were back there in the cold days. Suddenly you were back to falling asleep in his arms. Suddenly you were back to library dates with coffee. Suddenly you were back to watching his morning runs.

You shook your head and glanced at the clock. Just one more hour. Then you could take the stupid thing off.

Long minutes passed by but you were getting through your morning until the door chimed and opened once again. You looked up and instantly felt your heart drop.

Minho's friends from his dance club came through the door, and it wasn't long until you saw him in a black hoodie on top of cargo pants. His brown hair long and styled in a way that made you hate how good you thought he looked. He always looked good, but he wasn't yours to tell that anymore.

He was laughing, an iced coffee in his hand. Though you were confused. He had a class at this time. Why was he at the gym?

You kept your eyes down, trying to avert your gaze. They were headed in your direction. You weren't sure what Minho would do. Since the breakup you didn't see him much, but if you paths were to cross for whatever reason, you would pass by each other like strangers. Minho wouldn't glance in your direction and so you learned how to do the same thing.

But now for the first time in a while you were spotted, and making matters worse, in his hoodie. What would his friends think? What would he think? You hoped Minho wouldn't notice.

As the guys walked over to the counter, Minho was last in line. He had his phone with him scrolling away in disinterest as his straw was in mouth. You tried not to pay attention as you plastered a while.

It was semi awkward since most of the guys knew who you were. But you were all adults so you weren't about to make a scene. You signed them in and they smiled and said their thanks.

"Have a good workout." You wished, just as you did with everyone who's stepped in since the gym opened.

Now that Minho's friends left, you turned to the computer screen, typing his name. You could do this whole thing in silence, and as you see in the corner of your eye that Minho looked around the place and not at you, you expected that he would do the same.

That was until he placed his hand on the desk, leaning in.

"What are you doing?" He asked. His voice sounded slightly irritated.

Your hands typed fast and you willed yourself to be strong and not timid. You were bound to talk to him eventually.

"I'm working Minho, what does it look like I'm doing?" You finally looked up at his handsome face. "I need your card."

Minho's gaze fell at the hoodie. "Why are you wearing my hoodie? What do you think you're doing?"

You breathed deeply and slowly. "I don't know if you noticed this, but this air conditioning is on the highest level and I needed something to warm me up-"

"So you walk around wearing my freaking initials on your chest."

Minho took a step back and glanced at you. Was it disgust? Anger? Resentment? You couldn't even tell.

You blinked. "It's not like that. I didn't know about the air conditioner until I got here. I asked my dad to grab a hoodie on his way here and he found this one. That's all."

Minho rolled his eyes as he got out his wallet. "Sure."

"It's the truth." You said.

Minho didn't look like he believed. His eyes were elsewhere as he handed you his card and you swiped it on the machine. When you handed back his card, he looked at you once more.

"We broke up. And you're out here wearing my hoodie, that's not fair." He said, his voice low.

You scoffed, holding the hem of his hoodie. "Do you think I want to wear this? You think it's fun for me to go around wearing something from someone I'd rather have no business with? I don't like this. It's awkward, okay? But it was either this or freeze." You told him.

Minho shook his head. There was a look in his eye, though you couldn't tell what exactly he felt. You knew this was awkward for him. You placed yourself in his shoes. He, just like you, had a right to move on. But when you were wearing something of his, it was awkward. You knew that.

You just didn't like how he made it seem like it was your choice in the matter.

"Well, is someone coming to fix the air conditioner?" Minho asked.

You nodded. "In about an hour."

Minho gave a weird look. "You couldn't have waited until then?"

That was what made you ticked off. You shook your head, letting out a huff.

"Look, do you want me to take this off and give it to you? Because-"

"Calm down. You're already wearing it, I'm not gonna ask you to take it off, I'm not that vile. It's whatever. You can keep it. Or burn it later. Do whatever you want with it. I don't care." Minho said, taking his wallet and his coffee.

He walked away from the desk, leaving you staring at his retreating figure as he went on his phone. You sighed, covering your face in your hands.

You weren't the type that hated anybody, but you didn't understand him. And that caused an anger to build up. How could he stand there so disgusted, so bratty, so nonchalant, like he never once told you he loved you? As if you weren't the one he once shared everything with? Why was he so cold, when once all you felt was the warmth of being cradled in his arms? How could he interact with you like he never knew you when he once kissed every part of you? Was it not hurting him to stand there and pretend he didn't think of all the moments shared? Did he not miss it? Did he not miss you...like you missed him?

Minho once told you, during that times where you both were fighting a lot, that it wasn't over between you. There was still something, whether fate, force, or faith, that was keeping you both together by a thread. That even through the differences you both had, you would stay together because you were meant to be.

It wasn't until after everything that happened in the breakup did you realize in the learning curve was that the only thing meant for the two of you was to break up. You weren't the same. Not even close. He was different, you were different.

People changed all the time. It was a part of life. And soon you would get to the point of gratitude that he was no longer in your life anymore.

[badlydrawnbeastwars]

hii

first I love your art :3 and I got a request

dinobot and rattrap tries doing a duet (it’s can be any song)

maximal karaoke night (tigatron n airazor left early)

[wigglebox]

Suptober - Day 1 | Autumn

[teddybeartoji]

heavily based on the puss in boots movie but sukuna x death!reader..

a bounty hunter, who has set their eyes on the infamous sukuna,, known for his bloody blade and his feracious smile, he doesn't even bat an eye when you show him the wanted poster. he makes a joke about it, he laughs in your face.

but he does enjoy the fight and he is amused by this ridiculous act of yours, so he decides to draw his sword just to humor himself on this late night.

"try me if you dare, you wouldn't be the first to— "

like a gust of wind, like a slap in the face – you swat the blade from his hand without even looking at him properly and his breath gets stuck in his throat.

the steel clatters against the cold floor, it glimmers under the dim lights of the tavern. sukuna doesn't get scared. he doesn't.

the corners of your lips quirk up and the room goes cold. a mean laugh ripples from your throat and his stomach churns.

"go on, pick it up."

he swallows the lump in his throat.

the few steps count as a walk of shame inside his head. he won't let you get away with toying with him like this. adrenaline pumps in his veins as he bends to pick up his weapon and the moment his calloused fingers wrap around the handle, he's swinging it at your back with a low growl.

the sound two swords make when they clash against one another is nothing new to sukuna, so it really shouldn't be as big of a surprise when you deflect his blow.

when you deflect it with ease, with a smirk on your face.

sukuna's eye twitches.

a second swing and then a third. you're unfazed.

"sloppy."

he clicks his tongue and forces down the raw anger bubbling up his gullet.

a fourth and a fifth. a sixth. sparks from the blades glimmer in your dark eyes as you blatantly laugh in his face, seemingly so far from his reach that sukuna trips over his own thoughts – he reacts half a second too late and pays the price for it immediately; the cold steel rests against his adam's apple, your breath fanning his face as you tug him closer by the collar of his shirt. stuck between the counter and the end, he glares at you. he snarls, he bares his teeth.

a drop of crimson runs down the side of his neck as you brush your cold nose against his cheek. too close, you're too fucking close. the quiet, honeyed hum you give him gnaws on his insides, it tears into them like a hungry dog. your lips ghost over his pulse point and he feels you smile.

you inhale and a shiver runs up his spine.

"this is always the best part... when the fear finally starts to bleed, when you can taste it. smell it." his free hand curls into the material of your cloak but he's unable to do anything. he can't push and he can't pull, a deer stuck in a trap.

you slot a thigh between his thighs and press your blade deeper into him. "isn't it exciting to be so close to me, hm?"

warm blood trickles over your fingers. the tall man before you shrinks under your presence, under the weight of your makeshift scythe. he holds onto you like his life depends on it and withers at your next words.

"i'll take good care of you, i promise."

[0ann3]

tfw when you got another drawing inspo just from playing a rhythm game-

[princeson]

Vampire Money

Reigen Week - Day 1: Costume/Fashion

knowing reigen's luck, he'd dress up as a vampire only to be mistaken for a real one by some random vampire hunters that just, happened to be in the area, and end up about to be staked in the heart or something, smh...

@wings-of-scarlet-light

[seventh-district]

“Why’s he call you Darlin’?”

on my knees begging my brain to stop trying to associate this song with Sam

[deztryx]

He fr fr goin thru it

BAILANDO BAILANDO 🔥🔥

I'm sorry☠️☠️☠️

[ktyekmrf30]

as i see you're both are overthinkers so i think i have a perfect song from one korean idol for y'all

as this diva stated let's not overthink 🤷🏼‍♀️

[bloodydeanwinchester]

Shakey Graves // Kids These Days

Supernatural: 1x12 // 4x16 // 4x18

taglist 1 (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!)

@castielsupernatural @demolitiondean @quiet-doll @angelsdean @universalcas @faithcastiel @millicentmarva @fountaincas @deanbroco @waldrea @thigholstercas @castielfucks @youre-only-gay-once @girldaddean @verypissedoffdee @redleavesinthewind @cascigarette @naughtystiel @achillestiel @faithdeans @annaslittlebiitch @castiellesbian @obsessionofspn @my-people-skillls-are-rusty @hauntedpearl @colonel--sarge @latinocas @babygirlstiel @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @flowernerdcastiel @srazten @cockworkangels @birdstiel @shallowseeker @arsonistsam @nvybloo @f-rgetregret @saintedcastiel @oughilovehim @loyalbloggerwhowaits @mrcowboydeanwinchester @cannabiscasgate @deangraham @icarusalchemist @riverwithoutbanks @rainsongdean @nelsonsmynickname @dakrapatops @vegancas @butch--dean

[thegreenleavesofspringinsunlight]

I don't listen to pop often, but when I do, it's the good stuff.