#just had to get all that out. it’ll be fine.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑭𝒍𝒖 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕/𝑴.𝑳𝒆ó𝒏

Of all the things you expected to deal with today, physically restraining your fully grown, tattoo-covered, professional footballer girlfriend was not on the list.

The moment you mentioned the flu shot, Mapi had frozen.

“No.”

You raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“No,” she repeated firmly, shaking her head. “No flu shot. No needle. No.”

You sighed, already feeling the impending headache. “Mapi, it’s just a little shot-“

“No.”

“Bebé, come on-“

“No.”

“You literally have tattoos everywhere-“

“Tattoos are different!”

You stared at her, unimpressed. “How?”

“They just are!”

You ran a hand down your face. “This is ridiculous.”

Mapi crossed her arms, shaking her head stubbornly. “Not happening.”

You pointed toward the nurse’s office. “You’re getting the flu shot.”

She pointed in the opposite direction. “I’m not getting the flu shot.”

You took a step forward. She took a step back.

You narrowed your eyes.

She narrowed hers.

And then-

Mapi bolted.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake-“

You chased after her as she sprinted down the hallway like an escaped convict. You had been prepared for some resistance, but you hadn’t expected this. In the end, it took you and a very amused nurse to corral her into the room, where she now sat in the chair, legs bouncing, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looked like she was being sentenced to life in prison.

The irony of it all was almost too much.

This was Mapi. The same woman who had an entire sleeve of ink on her arm. Who had willingly sat for hours, letting needles repeatedly puncture her skin without so much as a wince. And yet, the mere thought of a single flu shot had her gripping the arms of the chair like she was bracing for the end of the world.

The nurse, bless her heart, tried to be patient. “It’ll only take two seconds.”

“No.”

“It won’t even hurt that much.”

“No.”

“It’s just a little pinch-“

“No.”

The nurse shot you a look, and you sighed.

“Mapi,” you warned.

She glared at you. “Mi amor, I love you, but if you don’t let me leave right now, I will break up with you.”

You deadpanned. “No, you won’t.”

“I will.”

“No, you won’t.”

“…No, I won’t,” she admitted begrudgingly, then huffed. “But I’ll be very mad at you.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s fine.”

The second the nurse lifted the needle, Mapi twisted away, nearly knocking over a tray of supplies in the process.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Okay, that’s it.”

Before she could react, you grabbed her waist and hauled her to her feet. You then took her place and pulled her straight onto your lap, wrapping your arms around her securely and pinning her own arms to her chest.

“¡Oye!” she yelped, thrashing instantly. “¡Déjame ir!”

“Not a chance, bebé.”

She wiggled furiously, trying to escape. “You’re so mean-“

“You’re being a baby-”

The nurse covered her mouth to hide a laugh. “Are you ready now?”

“No-” Mapi wiggled, tried to push your arms away, then let out a very undignified squeak when you tightened your grip.

“Yes.”

When the nurse lifted the needle again, Mapi turned her head so fast you thought she might get whiplash.

You had never seen her so dramatic in your life. She hid her face in your shoulder, muttering frantically under her breath, and the moment the needle touched her skin, Mapi yelped.

A real, genuine yelp.

And then-

A sniffle.

You glanced down at her, eyes widening. “Bebé…are you crying?”

“No!” she snapped, voice slightly wobbly. But when she finally pulled back, her brown eyes were just the tiniest bit watery. That didn’t stop her from scowling at you, then at the nurse, then at the tiny plaster on her arm like it had personally wronged her.

The nurse patted her on the shoulder and handed her a sticker. “You were very brave.”

Mapi took it in silence, looking deeply betrayed. You bit your lip, fighting a laugh as you grasped her hips and coaxed her back to her feet. Mapi instinctively leaned back into you, and you rolled your eyes fondly as you looped an arm around her waist, hand splayed across her stomach. You thank the nurse with a grateful nod as she opened the door for you, and she responded with a playful wink of which you grin at as you lead your still pouty girlfriend outside.

As the warm Barcelona air greeted you, you laced your fingers through hers and give her hand a squeeze. “You okay, bebé?”

“…I hate you.”

You kissed the top of her head. “No, you don’t.”

“…No, I don’t,” she grumbled, then glared at the sticker.

You squeezed her hand again, suppressing another laugh.

Next year? Oh, you were definitely recording this.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

[fanzou]

✗ Genre: Smut

“What, best friends don’t fuck?” He poses the questions so innocently, like it’s nothing. He’s kneeling between your legs and his very prominent bulge is inches close to you.

“S-Sanji…” You’re blushing like a damn virgin, “If someone finds us out—”

“—But they won’t, we’ll be quiet, princess. Trust me.” He’s rubbing his broad hand across your lap and your skirt is threatening to expose so much more than you wanted it to, and you��d venture to think that’s exactly what he was trying to make happen.

You’re nervous, only because anyone could walk right through that wooden door into the dark room you both were in. Sanji doesn’t give a shit, and it’s written all over his face and body.

You let out a shaky breath. “Okay, fine… but make it quick alright?”

His breath hitches, and you can see his muscles relax a little bit over your demand. He’s waited so long for this and tonight was the perfect night to finally make a move. Everyone was drunk out their mind anyways, so it didn’t matter. You were the only two fully conscious on board, though the concept seems surprising.

He’s removing his belt, and his long fingers moving so skillfully makes the heat in between your legs so much more noticeable. It’s practically radiating off of you and Sanji digs his thigh closer between your legs.

You didn’t wanna seem eager but the image in front of you was nothing short of exciting and it’s getting you to almost hypnotically move your hands to take off your panties while the man across from you already had his cock sprung and ready to put inside of you. What can he say? You told him to make it quick.

With your bare cunt facing him and your legs spread wide, you’re practically begging him to start his attack. Even though this was something that he wanted to make special, thoughtful and something never to forget, he guessed this could suffice.

Sanji lines himself up, and presses his cock against you. The intrusion was so much more than you thought it’d be. And it feels amazing. Amazing in the worst and best ways, the way it fully splits you and stuffs you all the same. It’s pleasurable and painful at the same time.

But you can’t let anyone sniff you both out. You’ll just have to get your quick orgasm in before anyone starts to suspect where you both have run off to. “Fuuuuuck… g-go… faster.”

And so he obeys, so much for truly being able to relish it.

He’s hardly a man who liked to be rushed during sex, his curved cock is grazing your insides just a little rougher than when he started and the whimper you let out proves it. “D-Don’t worry my love… next time… it’ll be so much more better. But I couldn’t stand it anymore. ‘Really fuckin’ needed you… oh shit.”

Your pleasure subsides for a second trying to puzzle together his insinuation, but then you hear something; footsteps.

Your eyes widen and dart at the door, then to Sanji, but he doesn’t care, he just comes closer to you and puts hand over your mouth. His grin gets wider and wider.

And he’s fucking you so much more quieter but there’s so much power in his thrusts, he tries not to push against your thighs too much because he knows the slapping will probably alert whoever was walking towards your room. He sloppily tries covering your sides with a blanket, this’ll work, he says, and he’s back to fucking you just a little harder than he did before.

You make it known to him, vocally, that you really appreciated the gesture.

The footsteps get louder and closer to where you can almost feel the vibrations off the floor. Sanji’s hand is like tape around your mouth, he wants you quiet but he fucks you like he’s daring you. He looks at you, then he looks to the door.

The steps are right by the door now, and they stop. Your heart drops.

“Where do you think shitty cook’s gone? Need him to get me some more booze.”

Sanji’s ecstatic. Like he wants Zoro to walk in, walk in on you getting fucked like your life depended on it. And you could sit here and pretend that you were absolutely in great terror of being found out by someone about the predicament you were in, but your pussy told the truth.

Much to Sanji’s disappointment, his sloppy and drunk footsteps walk the other direction. He removes his hand and watches your frustrated expression manifest.

You were clenching around him tighter and tighter and he knew exactly what that meant for you, the closer proximity between his cock in your tightened cunt made him feel like reeling into his own orgasm.

“You wanted him to walk in. Didn’t y-you? Yeah. You’re so d-dirty… ‘Wanted this more than me, huh princess?”

You could only take so much dirty talk. “Saaaaaaanji… stop talking… oh—” he pushes impossibly deep inside of you, and that’s when you let go. It was too much.

You squirted everywhere. And that was an understatement. It was bad. Like a lot of it went onto the floor and you’d have to clean it immediately after. But for now, Sanji’s chasing his own high. “You’re so… perfect. Fuck you’re amazing. Where do you want me, beautiful?” His thrusts get messy and the blanket is long gone, his skin on yours.

Not wanting anymore mess and a more obvious crime scene, “Just c-cum on my—fuck—stom-ach.

He obeys, and pulls out, he strokes himself on your stomach, with some of it pulling into your belly button. “Yeeees princeeeeess, oh shit…”

His chest is moving up and down and he stares at you lovingly before he smiles, it’s a genuine one, not laced with anything impure or malicious this time, fortunately for you. He’s back to normal Sanji.

“So… what would you have done if he walked in?” You ask him, genuinely curious.

“He’s plastered so, would’ve just made him watch us fuck. He probably wouldn’t have remembered it anyway.” He lays down next to you. “And if he did? ‘Nother thing to hold over his head.” You nuzzle into his chest for the short duration of time you had.

✗ A/N: Was drunk writing this. Do not mind the grammatical errors if there is any.

[skyward-floored]

*crashes through the window*

HIII PEGGY

What was your favorite part of the update?? Favorite panel? And do you have any thoughts or predictions about Twilight’s fate?

Can I say all of it?? It was all so funny, I loved it sdhvdbdhdbsjg

Highlights that stood out to me though:

Legend being worried about Twilight, but having it come out as snippy comments towards Sky was *chefs kiss* And Twilight not appreciating it, and Legend immediately backing down was such an interesting view of the three of them!

Also Hyrule’s little remark basically implying he’s the only one who can handle Legend’s snark LOL

I appreciated the callback to the Bully comic too, with Twilight asking if Sky’s okay and everything, and Sky’s just like “oh yeah lol he’s fine”. And the RABBIT JOKE SDHDBDBDHDH

Sky’s expressions all over here are just brilliant I love them

Time’s little pep talk for Wild was nice, hopefully it’ll be encouraging for Wild 😬 Anyone else think it was kind of telling Warriors only said like one line the entire update? Anyone?

yeah.

Anyway it looks like Wild is feeling pretty upbeat (that or he’s nervous and hiding it by goofing off 🤔) since he’s being all silly. He could just be matching Twilight’s energy, but I guess time will tell. I bet he would’ve been perfectly fine if Twi had actually wanted to switch though XD

and I have to mention this whole bit SO FUNNY HAHAHBDHDGSBD I LOVE SEEING THEM GOOF OFF!!!

And... Time. Worrying. Still.

My man is so stressed :(

But honestly... I’m not all that worried about Twilight. I could see him perhaps pushing himself a little too hard and getting worn out, but he’s got Sky and the Master Sword, I really think he’ll be okay.

I’m more worried about the other groups, SOMEONE is going to get hurt. For sure. For certain. My bet is on either Wild and/or Warriors, or someone in Time’s group. That’s what I think.

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Sweet Lullaby - B.SK

🎤 Who: Boo Seungkwan (Seventeen) x reader 🎤 What: Fluff. Fantasy au. Supernatural au. Established relationship. Siren Seungkwan. 🎤 Word count: 3.1k 🎤 Warnings: Some profanity but I think that’s all. 🎤 Summary: “ If there’s one thing you know about Boo Seungkwan, it’s that he loves to sing.

If there’s another thing that you know about Boo Seungkwan, it’s that he’s not allowed to sing.

And if there’s one thing you know about yourself, it’s that you’d move the Earth itself to make Boo Seungkwan happy.”

Masterlist

A/N- thank you @lovetaroandtaemin for the idea to write siren Seungkwan at karaoke! It’s a lot different than I initially intended or imagined (and longer) but I still loved writing it!

If there’s one thing you know about Boo Seungkwan, it’s that he loves to sing.

If there’s another thing that you know about Boo Seungkwan, it’s that he’s not allowed to sing.

It breaks your heart every time you watch Seungkwan tag along to karaoke nights only to sit at the side lines nursing the same drink all night to remain in control, while his sad eyes stare longingly at the microphones passed between friends. You’ve asked him before why he even attends when he knows it’ll make him sad, and he always just says he’d rather be there and sad than miss out on spending time with his friends.

If there’s a third thing you know about Boo Seungkwan, it’s that he has the biggest heart of anyone you have ever met. You would know more than anyone; he opened it to you years ago and has allowed to live comfortably within his heart ever since.

Which really does mean that you know better than anyone how much it hurts Seungkwan to not be able to sing anywhere except in his private soundproofed office in your shared apartment that he doesn’t even let you in while he’s inside in fear of accidentally hurting you.

Sometimes, it’s really tough being in love with a siren who always puts others first. But you’d never change a thing about your Boo Seungkwan.

In fact, you embrace everything about the man as best as you can, even if it means months of saving and research to afford to take you both on a surprise trip across the country to a very specific and well-hidden secret. It had taken a lot of digging and greasing the right palms to get the information you need.

But the way Seungkwan lights up as soon as you two step into the unassuming building and he sees the sign above the reception desk makes it all worth it.

“A karaoke bar for sirens?!” He shrieks, turning to look at you with nothing but pure joy in his eyes and stretching his beautiful smile wide. “How’d you find this place?!”

“A lot of late nights digging and making calls,” you answer honestly.

“This is why you’ve been so tired lately?” His expression lowers: he looks a little concerned and guilty but mostly so, so touched that you sacrificed your precious rest for his sake. “Baby,” he breathes out and steps closer to tenderly take your face into his hands and lock his adoring gaze with yours. “I love you, so much.”

“Mm, I know,” you reply cheekily, earning a soft huff of a chuckle. “How about you serenade me for the first time, hm?”

Seungkwan’s smile slowly slips away and his hands slide down until he’s holding your hands. “You know I can’t do that. I’d love to sing for you, but it’s too dangerous. I really could warp your mind if I’m not careful baby, and I’ve never had the chance to sing around non-sirens, so I don’t know how to be careful. You’re the last person I’d ever want to risk. How am I supposed to marry you one day if I turn your brain to mush, huh?” He jokes, nudging you a little to try and lift the mood back up.

“Just make me look pretty and wheel me down the aisle in a wheelbarrow.”

“You’re always pretty. But I’m not marrying you in a wheelbarrow.”

“Fine. A throne on wheels.”

Seungkwan laughs. “How did you go from one extreme to the other? From wheelbarrow to throne.” He chuckles then leans forward to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Is this really okay, for me to sing here?”

“Mm, it’s soundproofed to hell and back; nobody outside of the room will hear you so long as the door is closed.”

“Ah,” he smiles a little then looks over to the staff at the reception desk then back at you, glad the staff isn’t paying you two any attention even if you’re the only ones in the lobby. “I really appreciate this baby, a lot, seriously. But…well, I can sing on my own at home, at least I won’t be abandoning you there like I will here. Let’s just go find something else to do, okay?”

“No way,” you scoff and grab his hand to drag him over to the reception desk.

The staff looks up with a welcoming smile. “I was wondering when you’d arrive!” He beams at you, making Seungkwan look between you utterly lost. “Hi, Seungkwan, I’m Junhui, one of the owners of Sweet Lullaby!”

“I still can’t get over you calling your siren focused karaoke bar Sweet Lullaby,” you comment.

“It’s funny,” Junhui retorts. “You just have no sense of humour,” when he tacks your name on the end as if you’re old friends, Seungkwan’s confusion grows to utter bewilderment.

“Hold on, why are you two so comfortable?” He asks, pointing between you and Junhui with one hand, the other still clasped in yours with your fingers naturally laced together.

“We’re besties,” you and Junhui reply in sync, thoroughly visibly freaking out your boyfriend which makes yourself and Junhui crack up laughing.

“We’ve talked a lot the past couple weeks to set this up,” you explain with an amused grin. “And he has no filter, so we quickly got to know each other and became friends.”

“The others are very excited to have new friends to sing with!” Junhui chirps, then looks over as the side door to the rest of the building opens. “Channie, look, it’s Seungkwan!”

“Oh!” The newcomer grins and bounds over to greet you by name with a hug that Seungkwan baulks at, making you snicker. “And our newest siren!” Chan turns to beam at Seungkwan. “I’m Chan, the others are all waiting for you, come on!”

“Wait!” Seungkwan exclaims just as Chan swipes his staff ID badge at the scanner to unlock the door again. He turns to look at Seungkwan with a little pout. “What the fuck is going on exactly?”

“We’re going to go sing with the others,” Chan informs, pointing over his shoulder down the corridor behind him.

“I’m not singing with you!” Seungkwan sputters, motioning to Chan. “You’re not a siren!”

“Yeah, and?” Chan looks so confused. “It’s perfectly safe, we do it all the time, right, Jun?”

“Yep!” Junhui confirms from behind the desk where he’s clicking around on his computer to remotely lock the front door knowing that there are no customers coming in for a while.

“Kwan,” you start softly while gently turning Seungkwan to look at you. The poor guy looks almost painfully lost. “This is a very unique karaoke bar, not just because it caters to sirens but because it has developed a system to allow sirens to sing with non-sirens too.”

“Wh-what? How?”

“One of the other owners is some kind of genius and his best friend is a siren who has the most incredible voice, seriously,” Chan enthuses with honest eyes. “And the owner, Mingyu, had the same issue your partner does in that someone so precious to him couldn’t do the thing he loves most. So Mingyu developed a material that somehow like blocks the lure in a siren’s song, which means now so long as he’s wearing ear plugs, Seokmin can sing around him and cause no issue.”

“Fuck off,” Seungkwan scoffs. “That’s impossible. I would’ve heard of that by now; that’d be huge.”

“He’s only recently got the right balance of ingredients. It’s taken him years to get to this point and it’s been kept secret, so nobody tries to steal his work or pressure him. Someone could make a fortune if they got their hands on the formula, so we’ve kept it very secret.”

“Then why are you telling us, complete strangers about it?” Seungkwan motions between you and him puzzled.

“You’re not strangers, you’re part of our group!” Chan replies with a grin. “Come on, come meet the others and you can see the earplugs in action for the first time! It’s incredible, seriously.”

Chan blabbers away excitedly as you urge Seungkwan to follow him with yourself right behind and Junhui skipping along behind you a little, after double checking the front doors are securely locked.

The room Chan enters is bigger than any karaoke room you’ve been in before, but you expected it, having been given a video tour by Junhui already. Seungkwan, however, gawps at the size of the room and the glass walled booth to one side big enough to fit a large sofa and table within, plus more space to move comfortably around. There’s already a man lounging across the sofa looking to be asleep and another tall one standing by the computer in the corner facing the main room. He smiles and waves at you, which you return, easily recognising the genius owner of Sweet Lullaby.

“What’s that for?” Seungkwan asks, pointing to the room.

“That is where us non-sirens go while all the settings are calibrated, and the earplugs tested against your voice. Really it should be fine because Seokmin’s loudmouth is fine and nobody has reached his level yet so unless you’re like a super siren or something, it’ll be fine, and we can come back in and all sing together and have a great time!” Chan and Junhui cheer a little before Chan grabs your hand and leads you to the room.

Inside the glass booth, you can’t hear anything from the main room, but you don’t need to hear your boyfriend’s voice to know he’s rambling worriedly to Junhui and the other sirens in the room.

“It’s good to finally meet you in person,” Mingyu greets as you stand curiously at his side to watch him click and tap away on the keyboard and mouse.

There’s a grunt behind you at the sofa and you look over to see that Chan has seated on the no longer sleeping man’s stomach. You don’t know who he is, but you don’t mind his presence at all.

“You too,” you reply to Mingyu a beat too late due to your distraction, but he doesn’t mind and just smiles.

He picks up a little microphone from beside the computer to talk into and tell Seungcheol to put the ear plugs in.

You’ve never talked to Seungcheol before, but you know he’s a werewolf and the one they always make test the ear plugs as he has the fastest recovery rate due to his supernatural healing abilities. Even if he’s also naturally the strongest so it’s a risk from him to potentially get his mind warped; if he loses control and lashes out it’d take all of the sirens present to subdue him.

It shows a lot of faith in both Mingyu’s intelligence and skill and Seungcheol’s self-control to do this without extra measures in place.

You watch as Seungcheol puts the little, pale green plugs into his ears securely and sit on the stool that Wonwoo, the business brain behind Sweet Lullaby, places down in the centre of the room. When Wonwoo gives a thumbs up to Mingyu, Mingyu clicks around a few more times, then announces through the mic that it’s ready.

When Seokmin opens his mouth, one hand on Seungkwan’s shoulder, you can’t hear the voice that escapes his mouth, but the awe on your boyfriend’s face is more than enough to tell you that Chan hadn’t been exaggerating the siren’s awe-inspiring voice. Seungkwan repeatedly looks at Seungcheol, who is smiling a little at Seokmin and bobbing to the music you can’t hear, but he doesn’t seem at all lured in any way.

When it seems to really hit Seungkwan that this is real and has opened a whole new door from him, he looks at you with eyes a little misty with overwhelm. He taps his ear and points to you to ask if you can hear. You shake your head slightly and give him an encouraging smile.

A few seconds later of silently holding eye contact with you, Seungkwan’s mouth opens, and he starts to sing alone with Seokmin, barely opening his mouth at first and still very cautious, yet when Seokmin excitedly starts to shake him and the other sirens cheer him on, Seungkwan beams and stops holding back.

“Wow,” Mingyu mutters as he stares at the screen.

A moment later, Chan and the unnamed man are both on Mingyu’s right and peering at the screen. “What is it?” The man asks.

“You should know, you helped develop the system, Vernon,” Chan scoffs, nudging the man, who nudges him in return.

“Seungkwan’s voice is almost on par with Seokmin’s,” Mingyu informs.

“Really?” Chan gasps, looking through the window at the happily singing pair awed. “I can’t wait to hear it!”

“Is it safe?” Vernon double checks.

“Yeah, I improved the formula again when Seokmin learned to hit those high notes a few weeks back. Even if they both sing more powerfully, it will be fine, so long as the other sirens aren’t using their full power too,” Mingyu assures and hands you a pair of earplugs that Chan helps you put securely into your ears.

You’re very surprised by how clearly you can hear Mingyu and Vernon talking about the levels in terms you don’t understand but you don’t care. All you know is that it works. That’s all that matters to you.

A minute later, the four of you leave the booth and enter the main room where nobody is singing anymore but the sirens and Seungcheol are praising Seungkwan endlessly for his voice.

“Don’t rub it in that you’ve heard my boyfriend sing before me,” you complain, latching onto Seungkwan poutily. He turns his cheek achingly big and bright smile on you and wraps his arms around you to squeeze a little in a way that portrays his utter joy at finally being able to sing with others for the first time since moving away from his family home years ago.

“What’s your favourite song?” Chan asks you as he plucks the tablet from Wonwoo’s hands to scroll through the options. You answer and Chan makes a pleased sound as he finds it out, already knowing that it’s one they have in the system.

“Oh, Kwannie will sound so good singing that!” Seokmin enthuses. You raise an amused eyebrow at how quickly he’s taken to your boyfriend to call him such a nickname already.

But you truly can’t blame him, Seungkwan really could win the heart of even the coldest person over, so a sweetheart like Seokmin was bound to adore him. You’ve known for weeks that the pair will be incredible friends and feel smugly pleased to be proven right so quickly.

Moments later, the song starts and Seungkwan looks at you nervously. “You’re wearing the ear plugs, right?” He asks, even lifting his hands to gently touch the inside of your ears to feel the spongey material blocking the power of a siren’s song reaching your brain. “They work on non werewolves too?” He glances around nervously.

“I promise that no harm will come to any of us if you sing,” Mingyu assures, giving your boyfriend a gentle, honest smile.

“And I-I can really sing now?” Seungkwan asks, barely waiting for Mingyu to nod in confirmation before he looks back at you and cups your cheeks, fingers hovering by your ears as if ready to plug them himself. “Can I really sing for you, my love?”

“Please,” you encourage, holding onto his waist and trying to urge him with your eyes.

“What if it doesn’t work for you for some reason?”

“Minghao has my wedding dress design, he knows what I want, just make my throne match,” you reply, motioning vaguely around, making Seungkwan look around bewilderedly. “Oh, he’s not here, he’s in America.”

“Who is Minghao?”

“My best friend!” Junhui beams proudly. “He’s a costume designer for many famous TV shows. He’s working on the same show our Joshua is on! It’s about-”

“Okay, you can tell him all about it later, Junnie,” Seungcheol says with a soft chuckle and pats Junhui’s arm. “Let’s just let him sing for his partner for the first time, okay?”

“Right, right,” Junhui agrees and backs up yet watches with wide eyes of anticipation.

“You better sing this time, Seungkwan!” Chan warns, earning an almost glare from your boyfriend that makes you giggle so he looks back at you adoringly as the song restarts.

Seungkwan doesn’t start singing with the vocals, but Seokmin does over at the main room seating, singing around his chewing. You glance over and raise your eyebrows a little, impressed by his voice, yet you’re not affected by the lure in it and look back at Seungkwan.

Seeing your eyes as clear as ever, Seungkwan relaxes enough to finally open his mouth and for the first time in all the years you’ve known him, you hear him sing.

At first, his voice is soft, barely audible over the music and the others’ singing, yet he grows more confident and less afraid the longer you hold eye contact with him. He falters when your expression turns, and your eyes get a little misty when you finally hear his voice properly.

You understand now why the others had fawned over him so much. Seungkwan’s voice truly is indescribable. It’s the single most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard in your life and you’re already planning to steal the earplugs to take home so that you can sit in Seungkwan’s office every day and listen to him sing song after song for your ears only.

“Baby?” Seungkwan worries when he notices that you’re truly tearing up.

“Don’t stop, your voice is so beautiful Kwan, I’m so happy I can finally hear it,” you whisper, gripping onto his waist securely as if telling him that you’re here and aren’t going anywhere.

Seungkwan adjusts his hold on your face to kiss you, uncaring for the others in the room or their jeering and catcalls at the display of affection mid song. “I’m going to sing for you at every chance I get.”

“You better do.”

Seungkwan nods quickly in agreement with a little, happy laugh before he wraps his arms around your waist to sway you both as he serenades you with love song after love song while neither of you pay any attention to what’s going on around you.

All you care about is this; you and your Seungkwan in your blissful little love filled bubble together.

If there’s one thing you know about Boo Seungkwan, it’s that he should always be allowed to sing.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @tusswrites, @svtiddiess

[urbeachboy]

O1 — World’s Best Detective ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⋆˙⟡ — synopsis : you take up a co-worker’s shift, nearly get stabbed, and Red Robin’s losing his flair.

⋆˙⟡ — content : gn reader, violence, mugging, threatening, attempts at sexual assault, alcohol, knives, someone’s wrist is broken and depicted a bit vividly, i attempt (miserably so) to write accents, gotham. . .

Gotham is a hell-hole.

It isn’t like you weren’t aware of it, for you were, and anyone else (especially your family members) was also aware of it. And they’d tried to warn you, they always tried to warn you. Warn you of the supervillains that invoke a sense of incredulity (seriously- what’s a ‘condiment king’?), and superheroes who surpass them in that very field.

But it was cheap, and it was - well.. sufficient. Though there’s cobwebs in the corners of your apartment, it’s.. sufficient. You’ll clean it up- you’ll manage- it’ll suffice. As a matter of fact, the mess and the grime and the several health code violations isn’t quite the biggest issue, which says a ton.

It’s the crime rates. You’ve gotten past getting mugged five times, kidnapped two and assaulted six. It’s almost impressive, considering it has been no more than a fortnight and you almost always stick to a crowd, and refrain from going out past 12. Goodness, it’s like you’re a teenager all over again.

Thankfully, you’ve avoided danger almost completely so far. There’s no reason you would’ve gotten caught in the spider’s web- you’re a fly that sticks to its business. You get up at seven in the morning, eat the fastest breakfast you can, go to your classes (you're in Gotham Uni; the only reason you’re here), work your part-time at the local coffee shop, go home as quick as you can after clocking out, collapse in your bed, repeat. Bathing is fitted in there somewhere, too.

See, yesterday, one of your co-workers, Elise, had asked for you to take over her shift.

She’d approached you yesterday afternoon when you were wiping a bead of sweat away from your forehead (Gotham was especially humid in summer- figures, with it being New Jersey and all). She had sauntered up to you with all the suaveness of a siamese cat, with her dark hair done into a high ponytail.

Elise called out to you when she was barely a few feet away, a smile gracing her lips. “Could you do a favour for me, please?”

You quirked an eyebrow, but just before you could have parted your lips to ask, she was quick to speak over you. “You know, I’m asking you this because you’re like, the nicest person here. Honestly, you’re the only one I can talk to, haha! I know you’ll understand.”

You weren't gonna understand. Not when it's Elise--she's somewhat infamous round the workplace for her... behaviour.

Then, you were tempted to respond with a sharp ‘what do you want, Elise?’ and that’s just what you went to do until, despite yourself, you change it up last-second. “What is it?” you end up saying, and it sounds much more polite than you’d have liked it to sound. Your reputation precedes you, you think.

“Well,” she leaned back against the counter. There weren’t many customers then, most people were at work or school, so you had a little moment of respite. “It’s my sister’s wedding tomorrow,” you don’t recall her ever mentioning a sister before, “and I was thinking maybe you could take my shift for me?” Tough luck. “Just for tomorrow, I promise. I won’t bother you about anything after that.”

It’s a horribly difficult decision to make (note the sarcasm), but with great effort, you open your mouth to deny her request when she cuts you off. Again. “I knew you would, sweetie! Thanks!” And she’s gone.

So you had taken her shift- it’d be a one-time thing. It’d be fine.

Though, unexpectedly, it'd been especially busy today and you seemed to have completely zoned out while making coffee after coffee that, when all the customers are satisfied and have left, you drag your weary eyes up to the window and see darkness. You do a double-take-- still darkness.

You’re late.

It’s 12:30, you see it when you glance at the quaint clock on the pastel-coloured wall. It’s 12:30, and, looking out the window once more, it’s sans any life. You can hear a few strays howling, but that’s about it.

You may have called yourself paranoid in any other situation, but right now? In Gotham? You’re not taking those chances. You weren’t taking those chances, you had been avoiding those chances like the Black Plague but now the chances are shoved into your open palms very so generously.

Yes, there are vigilantes, a plethora of them- but you’re not sure if you trust your well-being in the hands of these mysterious masked individuals who go by strange aliases. Red Hood? Seriously? Maybe he’ll have a dainty little basket, too, on his dainty little self. Maybe he’ll give you a loaf of bread and a pot of butter or whatever it is that Little Red Riding Hood was taking to her grandma if you ask nice enough.

So, your distrust towards vigilantes aside, now you’re in a dilemma- you’re certainly not staying the night at the café, it’ll get you fired for sure. And even if it doesn’t, what would you tell them? That you were far too chicken to walk home because it’s past 12:00? They’re locals, lived here for years. You’re clearly not.

In the end, after a few more minutes of contemplating, you picked up your bag, holding it close to yourself while your eyes flicker up to the clock once more- 12:40. Okay. You can do this, no big deal- you’re an adult.

Walking out the café’s door on wobbly legs, you’re shrouded by the darkness. The moon barely aids you, meagre light shining down on you from the great crescent in the sky. It’s thankfully just enough to see, and while you could take out your phone’s flashlight, you don’t want to risk grabbing any unwanted attention.

The streets are, for the most part, empty—save for the few pigeons or stray dogs that you see in the alleys—which is unusual for these parts of Gotham.

Then, you hear it- a loud ‘clang!’. Like metal.

Instinctively, your head whips around only to find that it’s.. a cat. A calico, barely anything save a kitten, messing around atop some trash can.

You’re not sure what compels you then, but like an idiot, you take a final glance around and, upon reconfirming that the streets are vacant of people, you inch towards the cat.

“Hey, kitty,” you coo, slowly reaching a hand out once you’re in the alley. It’s not that far from the road, you’re barely halfway in the alley, only just outside it for the cat. The calico reacts positively to your approach, letting out a small ‘meow’ and nuzzling its nose into your palm. You could’ve melted then and there. It’s evident, really, from how you continue to blabber sweet nothings underneath your breath, barely on the brink of squealing because the little thing just seems to revel in your affection.

It seems alone. You wonder where its mother is. It’s mewls sound pitched, and it’s definitely supposed to be feeding still. You can’t help but feel pity as you take in the orange splotches of colour on the otherwise black and white cat, and it’s blue eyes. Suddenly, in the midst of your discerning, it jumps off the trash can and hurriedly rushes away. “..What was that all about?” you mumble to yourself.

Footsteps catch your attention. Your eyes shoot up from the ground and dread fills you. You’d forgotten your rule. It should’ve been well past 12:00 now, and you’re in immediate danger.

Sparing a glance to the cat who was now trotting away, you almost wish you could’ve blamed it on the animal, but you’re very well aware whose fault it is that you’re about to get murdered.

“Hey,” a man calls out. He’s imposing, and he’s got grizzly brown hair and mutton chops. He’s wearing a worn T-shirt and some jeans, and his voice? God, his voice. It’s gruff and heavy and unsettling- it makes you feel unsteady, as though your knees are about to give out. You don’t dare respond. Instead, you decide to do the next best thing.

You pick flight over fight, and you flee. Or at least, you attempt to. It was almost embarrassing how fast his hands wrapped around your wrists, and even more so how you tried to wretch your hands away to absolutely no avail. It barely registers in your head, but he’s cussing at you, mumbling, something about calming down. Like hell you’re going to calm down. No, in fact, you may have the survival instincts of a fawn, but hell if you’re calming down. Instead, you scream- as loud as you can, at the top of your lungs, when he cuts it short by placing his palm over your mouth, positioned meticulously so you wouldn’t be able to bite down on him as much as you’d liked to.

You thrash and flail, and he lowers himself down to your ear. “Listen here, babe. Yer’ gunna give me yer’ cash, or ah’m gunna take somethin’ else.” He has an accent, and you’re not sure what kind (though you’re not very eager to find out), but it’s thick as a bush. More than his accent, though, you fixate on his words- you know sure as gravity what he's talking about. What he’s insinuating. You want to gag- you feel the bile travelling up your throat, but you swallow it back down, tears pricking at the ducts of your eyes. With how loud you screamed, you’re sure some vigilante must’ve heard you, but alas, nobody comes hither.

It’s stupid, you’re aware, but you can’t think of anything else. Spite and disgust and hatred and adrenaline, all at once, fill up your being and you shake your head, thrashing about some more. Writhing, squirming, wriggling, anything. You kick your legs back, aiming for his feet, but you stop when he holds his other hand up to your neck. He leaves his hands free, and noting this, you’re about to use them to fight back- but you stop cold in your tracks.

You stop. You stop when you realise he’s holding something in his hand. It glints under the moonlight, and you realise it’s exactly what you feared- a knife. Far from dull. The exact opposite, really. And it’s held up to your rushing pulse, threatening to draw blood.

You’re not sure what to do anymore. You need to pay your rent, you’re barely hanging on by a thread. You’re also not giving up your dignity- you’re also not going to die. The safest option is your money. Slowly, you raise your shaking arms into the air, as if to surrender. “Good,” he drawls. When he removes his hand from your mouth, you can smell it- the sickening stench of alcohol. Of-course he’s drunk. It’s likely why he’s so bold.

Just as you’re about to reach for your wallet, your aggressor jolts.

“What the fu—” His knife is knocked out of his hand, and his hand? Oh, his poor hand. You hear a very discernible ‘crack!’ paired with a scream from him as his hand is twisted into a position that isn’t remotely human. There’s a hand on his wrist, his assaulter- they’re clad in black leather (or some other sort of shiny, smooth material) gloves, and you follow it up to their arm (red sleeves), and their neck, and then their face. You glance down at their chest- and lo and behold; Red Robin.

He’s just like you’ve heard (or like how you’ve seen from the few blurry, low-quality videos that made it onto the news time again), his black hair parting at the centre, forming a sort of arch. Ah- wait, right. You’re not supposed to be dwelling on his appearance- not when your perpetrator is in immense pain. You almost want to cheer for the vigilante, but you hold back.

“Drop the knife,” he says to the man, his voice seeming far too familiar. Though you haven’t heard Red Robin before. His voice is near boyish, and though he’s younger than you assumed, he seems far from a teenager.

Backing up slowly, you’re unsure what exactly to do. So instead, you lean against a wall of the alley, trying to compose yourself, trying to get your breathing to slow down because you’re not sure when all the oxygen entering your lungs started to become too much, too fast. You trail a hand up to your chest, and you close your eyes and focus and, sure enough, your heart is beating at the speed of a Jackrabbit’s. It was understandable, to you, at least. Because, oh my god, he just broke that guy’s wrist. Holy shit.

You try to focus on anything else but your nerves, eyes landing on Red Robin and your assailant (you’re not certain how many words you’ve used for him by now). The latter is scrambling to apologise, the knife on the floor and one of his hands holding the other (which was limp by now. Your wrist feels like it’s faintly aching too, merely at the sight). He’s shaken, and you’re sure you would’ve been, too, if your wrist was snapped in half like nothing.

You can’t register what any of them are saying. It’s not that you’re far away, no, you’re close enough. But all the words are slurring together in your mind and you can’t bring yourself to focus. You see Red Robin nod his head towards the streets after a while, and your assailant hurriedly rushes off, leaving his knife there on the ground. The vigilante in red picks it up promptly, observing it for any stains and stashing it away in his utility belt. Then, his gaze is drawn to you from beneath the mask.

You always thought the masks were odd. Especially when you could see half their faces- save for Batman, of course. He says something, and you can hear his lips move, but it’s all Greek to you when it comes out. Then, his brows knit together the slightest bit in concern, and he takes a step forward. You can hear it now. “You okay?”

You nod. It’s almost embarrassing, the amount you’re shaking. But he doesn’t seem to judge you. Thank god for that, even if you’re not sure why you assumed he would. You almost had your neck sliced in half as if it were a watermelon in a game of Fruit Ninja.

Then you stare at Red Robin. You really stare at him. You squint your eyes, falling over his frame. His voice was familiar, you recalled telling yourself that not a few minutes ago. But why? Was it just one of those voices? It wasn’t. You realised it when you looked at his hair again. Black, silky locks that fell in waves, an arch formed at the centre. Holy shit. Holy shit. No, no it’s not. It’s not.

No, it so is. So you tell him, you tell him like it is. Or like you think it is, at least.

“You’re Tim drake.” It comes out breathy, like a gasp. Like you don’t believe yourself.

Then you stare at him some more. Because he’s doing the exact same thing, staring at you like you’d said something obscene, like you were from another planet or all your teeth had fallen out. His nose scrunched up only for a second, before a small snicker escaped him. Like he’d forgotten himself. His facade.

“I’m Red Robin.” It was confident, clear, crisp- every syllable. He knew who he was, he was self-assured. You almost doubted yourself, just for a second. But with you, instinct was always stronger than wit.

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s late. Do you need me to walk you home? Looked a bit dazed earlier,” he cut you off with the beginnings of a smile on his lips, acting like he didn’t even hear you. Which, yes, you started quite softly, but you’re sure he was close enough to hear.

You narrow your eyes. Ultimately, you decided it’d be best not to budge. There’s shivers that wrack your spine as images of that man’s twisted wrist invade your head. That could be your neck. No.

The bats and the birds don’t kill. The bats and the birds are, however, not above beating you to a pulp so much so that you wished that they kill. And then maybe they’ll leave you at some dingy hospital.

Slowly, you nod your head, moving up and off the wall you were slumped against previously. He smiled. It seemed so genuine, but you’re certain it’s not.

“Lead the way, then.”

⋆˙⟡ — a/n : i’m sososo sorry it took this longggg :( been a bit busy and also writer’s block hit HARD <//3 but i’ve prevailed !! 2nd chapter soon !!

. fin ˗ˏˋ ᯓᡣ𐭩

[misaerabl]

I see a lot of Chloe x readers first time smoking and it usually turns to smut (which is fine! I live all Chloe fanfic writers!) but can I please get Chloe comfort where readers first time getting high was a bad trip?

Like maybe it's a bit self insert but I can't smoke at all and I feel like every stoner character has fics where reader smokes too but what about for the readers who can't, you know?

If not no worries take care of yourself <3

CONTENT: smoking weed (duh), bad first experience smoking, comfort chloe, max mentioned, SFW (also warning : I don't know shit about smoking or weed cuz ion do that, so correct me if there's anything wrong)

A/N: ify anon, as someone who can't smoke as well. also this is new!! first chloe price fic here ig. I'm replaying lis so this is such a good timinggg lovee!

Chloe had warned you to take it slow.

She had said it with a lazy smirk, passing you the joint with fingers stained faintly with ink and paint. But there had been a flicker of seriousness beneath her usual bravado—a hesitation you ignored in your eagerness to prove you could handle it.

Now, you weren’t handling it.

Your heartbeat was a frantic drum in your chest, pounding against your ribs like it was trying to escape. The world had narrowed, blurred at the edges, and you couldn’t tell if the weight in your limbs was from gravity or some invisible force pinning you down.

Chloe’s room, usually a chaotic but familiar mess of posters, CDs, and scattered clothes, felt too small. The walls were pressing in, the ceiling too low, the air too thick.

“Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa.”

Chloe’s voice cut through the static in your mind, sharp but careful. She was in front of you now, crouched down, her face clearer than anything else in the room. Her blue hair was a little frizzy, her beanie slipping back. She had that look on her face—half amused, half concerned.

“Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You shook your head. Couldn’t talk. Your throat felt tight, your mouth dry as hell.

Chloe frowned but didn’t push. Instead, she reached out, pressing the cold rim of a soda can into your palm. “Drink. It’ll help.”

You took a sip—too fast, choking slightly. Chloe just waited, patient. Her fingers tapped against the floor.

“I—” Your voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “I think I’m dying.”

Chloe snorted but immediately softened when she saw the panic in your eyes. “You’re not dying, dude. Just greening out. It happens.”

Greening out. Right. That was a thing. But knowing that didn’t stop the feeling, didn’t stop the weight pressing down on you like you were sinking into the floor.

Chloe shifted closer, her hands resting lightly on your knees. “Okay, okay, let’s get you grounded. You remember that one thing Max used to do? The five senses thing?”

You managed a weak nod.

“Cool. Let’s do it. Tell me five things you can see.”

You swallowed hard, forcing your eyes to focus. “Uh… your beanie.”

Chloe grinned. “Iconic. What else?”

You searched the room. “The… the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling.”

Chloe’s gaze flicked up. “Hell yeah. Got those when I was ten.”

You listed the rest slowly—the chipped paint on her nightstand, the band stickers on her guitar case, the way the neon blue of her hair caught the dim light.

She guided you through the rest, coaxing out four things you could touch (the carpet, the cool metal of the soda can, the soft fabric of her hoodie when she draped it over your shoulders), three things you could hear (her voice, the faint hum of a song playing from her speakers, the rain tapping against the window).

By the time you got to taste, you were breathing easier. The fear wasn’t completely gone, but the walls weren’t closing in anymore.

Chloe nudged your shoulder. “See? Told you. Not dying.”

You let out a shaky breath, clutching the can tighter. “Never doing that again.”

Chloe smirked. “Yeah, yeah. That’s what they all say.”

But then her expression softened, and she bumped her forehead lightly against yours. “For real, though. I got you, okay?”

You nodded, feeling the warmth of her hoodie, the steadiness of her presence.

Maybe you weren’t as weightless as you thought. Maybe, with Chloe here, you were still on solid ground.

[james-francos-gf]

WHEN THE MUSIC FADES !

pairing: noel gallagher x fem! reader

summary: when noel gallagher runs into his ex-fiance at a party and can't help but try and win her back.

warnings: angst, cheating, MANIPULATIVE noel (i'm a sucker for him), swearing, and probably more.

part two will include smut

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

It had been nearly two months since the 1996 BRIT Awards. You attended as a plus-one with your long-term boyfriend and fiancé, Noel Gallagher. However, the excitement of the wins quickly faded when you caught Noel kissing another woman at an after-party. The tabloids sensationalized the story after they saw you flee, your face stained with tears, and your ring missing from your finger.

The past two months had been filled with depression, sorrow, betrayal, and uncertainty. Many questions plagued your heartbroken mind, but one was asked far more than the others; What had you done to make Noel not want you anymore? Although your relationship was far from perfect, like most couples, you had thought that he was at least dedicated and faithful to you, especially after his proposal. It was almost unbelievable when you saw his lips on another woman’s. You were sure your heart would never heal and you would never get over Noel Gallagher.

After dramatically throwing your engagement ring in Noel’s face, you’d packed your stuff and moved in with your best friend. She’d watched you mope and not leave your bed for days and she was getting tired of seeing you miserable, she couldn’t and wouldn’t allow you to continue for another day. “You’re going to that party with me tonight, whether you like it or not,” Cami, your best friend, sternly spoke as you were sat on the couch, binge-watching Star Wars, something you and Noel would often do together.

“I’m not going,” you replied, barely acknowledging her presence as you tried your hardest to keep your attention on the movie. The thought of going out, seeing people, and the chance of seeing Noel filled your head with immense amounts of anxiety. Choosing to seclude yourself and staying far away from anywhere that had your ex-boyfriend’s name written all over it was the safest choice to protect yourself from potential further heartbreak.

Cami wasn’t having it, she grabbed the remote to the TV and turned it off, forcing you to put your attention on her. “What the fuck, Cami?” irritation laced your voice as you got up from the couch to take the remote from her hands. “You can go back to laying on the couch all day and watching shitty movies after the party,” Cami said, holding the remote over her head. “Why do I have to go to this party, Cami? You know you’ll have fun without me anyway,” you asked, your patience thinning. “Y/N, it’s been two months and you’ve left our flat five times. I cannot bear to watch you sit on the fucking couch any longer. You have to get absolutely pissed with me, just this once, please? It’ll help you forget about that cheating bastard, I swear.” Cami pleaded her case, arm still above her head, not allowing you to get back to your marathon.

Her words made you stop and think. You couldn’t help but admit that Cami had a good point. You had been at home practically every day since the breakup, feeling sorry for yourself. Noel was out going to parties, and award shows, and getting ready to perform the biggest gigs in his career thus far. You were allowed to have fun and try and get over him. You were allowed to be free from the thoughts of him. “Fine, just tonight, okay?” you sigh defeatedly. Cami dropped the remote to the coffee table, excitedly grabbed your arm, and pulled you to her room as you rolled your eyes.

Cami insisted upon helping you get ready, saying you had to look sexy, and not like you’d been crying over a “cheating bastard,” her coined term to describe Noel. She forced you to shower, blew out your hair, did your makeup, and picked out her favorite dress of yours, which also happened to be Noel’s as well. It was a sexy dark red, almost burgundy, short, slip-dress with a very deep slit in the leg. You hated to admit it, but you felt really good, the best you had since the breakup. You stood in front of Cami’s full-length mirror as she did the last finishing touches on your hair and handed you a pair of heels to go with your dress.

“Damn, Y/N, if I were Noel and saw you right now, I’d be on my hands and knees, begging for a second chance,” Cami smiled at you as she saw you examining yourself in the mirror. You laughed the first genuine laugh that had come from you in a while. Maybe going with Cami wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

You and Cami arrived outside the rather extravagant-looking house, the owner being a friend of Cami’s that you didn’t know all too well. Seeing the house, the people inside, and outside of it filled you with dread. You started your recurring thought spiral and quickly clung to Cami before the driver parked outside to drop you off. “Y/N, it’s going to be okay, I’ll be by your side the whole night,” Cami reassured and linked your elbows together as she started heading out of the car. You took a deep breath before following her out and walking with her inside the party.

Cami dragged you through the crowd of people, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes was heavy in the air and the marble flooring vibrated as music blasted throughout the house, and directed you to the drink table. She started pouring you both some kind of mixed drink. The taste was quite strong and bitter, but you drank it nevertheless. Linking your elbows together again, she dragged you to a free spot on a couch and you both sat, squished together with the other girls on the couch.

As you both sat laughing and drinking on the couch, you heard a very familiar Mancunian voice yell your name. “Oi! Y/N!” You turned your head at the voice and your eyes were met with the younger brother of your ex-boyfriend, Liam Gallagher. He waved his hand over, gesturing you to come over to him.

You hesitated, looking over at Cami, “Go ahead, Y/N, I’ll wait for you over here,” Cami yelled over the loud music. You took your drink with you and walked over to Liam, your heart racing as you made your way through the drunken people.

You tucked your hair behind your ear as you approached Liam. His hair was getting longer, his big blue eyes were covered by dark sunglasses, and his clothes were baggy. He stood smoking a cigarette with a beer in his hands. “Hey, Liam,” You said, forcing a kind smile on your face. As much as you were heartbroken by Noel, Liam hadn’t done anything wrong and you two had managed to get on pretty well.

At your words, Liam tilted his sunglasses a bit, getting a good look at you, “Yer looking fit as fuck, hope ya ain’t trynna impress Noel,” he said in his usual casual and arrogant tone. His compliment went right over your head as you heard him say Noel’s name. Was Noel here at this party as well? You hoped not, but you couldn’t keep your face from showing how uncomfortable you were.

Liam immediately clocked your expression and let out a mocking laugh, “Yer telling me ya didn’t know Rkid was gonna be here? Thought ya would’ve known,” You felt your heart drop to your stomach and anxiety flooded your body.

He was here. Noel was here and you knew you were bound to see him. You quickly sipped at your drink, hoping the alcohol would drown out your nerves. “Didn’t know he was here, Cami dragged me here,” you said, feigning casual unconcern, but you knew Liam could see right through you, just like Noel could.

He pretended to not know you were currently dying on the inside and continued casual banter. He threw an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into a relaxed hug, “Don’t be a stranger, Y/N,” and with those parting words, you made your way back to Cami.

Looking back to the sofa that you left Cami on, you noticed she was nowhere to be found. Panicked, you pushed your way to the kitchen, hoping she was just pouring herself another drink. Opening the door to the lavish kitchen, you looked to the island to see if Cami was there, however, your eyes locked with a very familiar pair of icy blue eyes, the same eyes you fell in love with all those years ago, the same eyes that could read your soul, the same eyes that betrayed you months ago. The music and voices of the party faded, the only thing that you could hear was your racing heartbeat and your neverending thoughts. You froze unsure of what to do. He definitely saw you too. Do you turn around and escape while you can or ignore him and get yourself another drink? You chose the first option. You turned around and headed towards the door, but you heard him clear his throat and speak, “Y/N?”

You stopped dead in your tracks and weighed your options, yet again. You could ignore him and run away or allow yourself to face him and maybe get some closure. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, preparing yourself to face him again. You tried your best to seem nonchalant and replied with a steady, “Noel,” his name sounding foreign in your mouth. You had tried your best to refrain from using his name after your breakup. The less you said it, the less you’d think about him was your mindset, which very clearly did not work as everything around you reminded you of him. You walked towards the island where Noel stood across from you. You poured yourself a refill of your glass, knowing you’d need more alcohol to even try speaking to him any further.

Noel looked at you, his eyes almost unreadable. He always was good at keeping his emotions locked away, keeping his thoughts and feelings under lock and key in his running mind. You awkwardly sipped at your drink under his heavy gaze, avoiding eye contact with him at all costs. You knew the second you got lost in his eyes, every emotion you’ve ever felt for him would come flooding back, and you wouldn’t allow yourself to get trapped by him again.

He cleared his throat again, making you turn your attention from your drink to him, still not allowing yourself to meet his piercing gaze. “You’re looking well,” he says quietly but sincerely, taking a slow sip of his drink.

You inhaled, your breath shaky as you managed to let your eyes meet his. You licked your lips nervously before a soft, “You do, too,” came from your mouth.

He smiled a little in response, and for a moment, it was as if the world around you had completely disappeared. However, the kitchen door swung open bringing you and him both back to reality. Suddenly your surroundings were flooded with the sound of people and music, ruining your awkward interaction. Noel eyed the person who had entered the kitchen, before taking a swig of his drink and looked at you thoughtfully for a moment in silence. “Can we talk somewhere? Alone?” His words dragged you back into him, your heartbeat somehow picking up speed before you stuttered out a quiet yes.

Anxiously, you followed Noel out of the kitchen, trying your hardest to stay close to him through the large crowd of partygoers. Noel occasionally looked over his shoulder, ensuring you were still trailing behind him as he led you down a hallway and up a flight of stairs. The music can barely be heard at this point, and it’s actually quite quiet, almost deafeningly so. He finally stops at an open bedroom and motions for you to go inside. You apprehensively step through the bedroom door before Noel shuts and locks it behind him. You awkwardly stood in front of the bed in the rather large room, your back facing him. This is the first time you’d both been completely alone with one another for a while. He lets his gaze wander down your back and then moves over to sit on the bed.

Still standing and now facing him, you whisper, “What did you want to talk about?” Your nervousness was very evidently still there due to the unexpected sighting of your ex-fiance.

Noel hesitates for a moment, looking down at the floor before looking back up at you. “I… I’ve been thinking about you. A lot,” he mutters quietly, his voice raspy. He pats the bed beside him, “Come here.”

You pause, taking in his words before sitting on the bed beside him. You tried to restrain yourself from admitting to him how you’d thought about him, how he flooded your head every second of every day. You stared at your lap as you picked at your fingers, and a very shaky, “Okay,” slipped from your lips.

He swallows hard as he looks at you. You both are the closest you’ve been to each other since the night you argued. He looks you up and down for a moment, taking in every inch of you. “You haven’t been sleeping much, have you?”

You become motionless and look at him, “Yes, I have,” a defensive tone to your voice. He shakes his head, “No, you really haven’t, I can tell,” He reaches one hand up to brush a thumb over one of your dark circles poking through from under your concealer.

“You look exhausted.” You pull your face away from his hand, not giving into his attempts at pulling you deeper and deeper back under his spell. “Noel, you can’t just act like nothing happened between us… You cheated on me,” You whispered, facing away from him and his touch.

He scoots impossibly closer to you and looks at you with a pained expression. “I know, and I’ve been beating myself up about it since it happened,” he says quietly, running his fingers through his hair. “I’ve never wanted to make you feel the way I know I made you feel that night… I wish I could just take it all back, Y/N.”

“But you did. You fucking kissed her Noel. You’re the one who threw this all away, not me.” you feel all the emotions that you’ve kept inside this whole night, slowly start to flood out into your words. “Y’know, I can’t stop asking myself why you did it?” your voice faltered, feeling your eyes sting with developing tears that you pushed down.

Noel can see the tears in your eyes, and it absolutely guts him. He swallows the lump in his throat before speaking quietly. “We’d fought that night, and I just kind of lost my head. I got way too drunk, and I did something stupid, and I know there’s no excuse. I was a complete fool because I’m the biggest idiot in the world to have ever hurt the one I love like that… I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’d do anything to take it back.”

You gave up trying to resist and let the tears fall down your face. “We were supposed to get married, Noel.”

His heart nearly shatters at your words. He looks almost defeated, “I know,” is all he whispers as he reaches for you, trying to take you into his arms. Unlike before, you let yourself melt into his grasp, allowing yourself to be dragged back into all that is Noel Gallagher. He brings his arms around you, hugging you and resting his chin on top of your head. He takes one of your hands in his own and gently pulls you closer, wanting to be as close to you as possible. “Please look at me,” he mutters quietly, his other hand coming to your chin, gently lifting your face to look at him.

You looked up at his face through tears, trying your hardest to steady your breathing. Being so close to him and being held by him was overwhelming for you. You were almost suffocating around him. His scent, his voice, his eyes, his crooked nose, his warmth–everything that made Noel Gallagher himself. It was hard for you to keep it together. Every memory of the years the two of you had spent together coursed to the forefront of your mind the second your eyes met his. As much as you wanted to give in, take him back, and be with him again, no amount of words and affection could heal the pain you’d felt the night you left.

He looks at your tear-stained face and gently wipes them away with the pad of his thumb, his heart breaking as he takes in your sorrow. He moves even closer, his knees touching yours as he reaches up with both hands to tenderly hold your face. His eyes are full of a mix of longing and guilt, and he whispers, “I can’t stand seeing you cry… especially when I’m the one who hurt you. I’d do anything to take it all back. I’d give anything to go back and change that night, I swear, Y/N.”

Your eyes glistened with tears while listening to his heartfelt words. When hearing him express all of his guilt and his wrongdoings, you couldn’t help but flash back to yourself the weeks following the breakup. The hate you felt for yourself, the self-isolation, the self-blaming, and the tears you cried. You couldn’t resist asking yourself what was so wrong with you that made him not want you anymore. What was so horrible about yourself that he threw away your engagement? In your twisted mind, it was never Noel’s fault that you two had broken up. Every reason that you had come up with to explain his cheating had nothing to do with him and everything to do with you and your inadequacies. You weren’t pretty enough, you were too boring, you couldn’t keep up with him, you gained too much weight, and you didn’t satisfy him anymore, so he did what every man does and found it elsewhere.

His words managed to provide you with a small amount of comfort, his words being entirely about his actions and nothing to do with you, but would you ever get the answer to the questions that tormented your mind? Would you ever be able to trust him again?

“I don’t know if I can just forget about it, I don’t know if I can ever trust you again, Noel. I thought we were forever; you promised that to me when you proposed, and you still did the opposite…” You whispered, your gaze falling to your lap, unsure if you could brace looking into his eyes a moment longer.

He sighs heavily, your vulnerability and honesty causing his heart to ache even more. He gently lifts your chin, so you're looking at him once again, and he locks eyes with you. “I know I broke that promise, and I feel like complete shite. And I know you’re probably tired of me apologizin’, but just please, I’m so sorry, Y/N, and I’d do anything to make it up to you. I love you with everything I have.” Noel’s eyes cloud over with a mix of sorrow and longing as he reaches for your hand. “I can’t imagine my days without the sound of your laughter or the touch of your hand. I know I hurt you—I hurt us—and every day, I carry that weight. But please believe me when I say I’m trying to be a better man. I’m haunted by the thought that maybe, just maybe, I lost you forever because I couldn’t be the person you needed. Don’t you think there’s a way we can fix this? I need you, Y/N. Not just for me, but for what we once had.”

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head, willing yourself to stay angry. Stay angry. Stay angry. But it’s hard when he looks at you like that—when his voice drops into something soft and pleading when he says your name like it still belongs to him.

“Noel,” you said, steadier now. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to say all the right things after the fact and expect me to forget what you did.”

“I don’t expect you to forget,” he murmurs. “I just—I need you to know I fucked up. I was a coward. And I hate myself for it.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, a flimsy attempt to protect yourself from the way his words threatened to break you down. “You should.”

“I do.” He steps closer, tentative. “Every fucking day.”

Your throat tightens. This is what you were afraid of—Noel at his most dangerous, when he turns his regret into something tangible that seeps into the cracks of your resolve. And God, it would be so much easier if he were cruel about it if he just shrugged and told you to get over it. But he’s standing here, telling you he’s sorry, telling you he’s been lost without you, and it’s getting harder to hold on to the part of yourself that still wants to hate him.

“You don’t get to miss me,” you said, your voice thin but sharp. “You don’t get to miss me when you threw me away.”

“I never threw you away,” he breathes. “I was an idiot, and I lost you. But I never stopped—” He swallows hard, dragging a hand through his hair. “I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

You turned your head, willing the sting in your eyes to disappear. “Noel—”

“Please.” He’s in front of you now, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him. His fingers brush your wrist—hesitant, like he’s waiting for you to pull away. But when you don’t, when you just stand there, his grip tightens slightly. Not forceful, just certain. He exhales slowly like he knows he has you now. “Tell me you don’t still think about me. Tell me you don’t still feel it.”

Your breath shudders out of you, and you hate him for knowing. Because of course you still feel it. You feel it now, in the way your skin burns where he touches you, in the way your body betrays you by leaning in when you swore you’d never let him close again.

You should walk away. You should tell him it’s too late. But instead, you let his fingers slip between yours, let yourself get pulled back into the gravity of him.

“This isn’t fair,” you whisper, a final, desperate attempt to hold onto your anger. But even as you say it, your fingers betray you, tightening instead of letting go.

And when his lips ghost over yours, you don’t stop him.

[prettylilyanime]

Our Blessing 02 Sneak Peak

Synopsis: In which while on boy's night, Suguru is fighting for his life trying to not let anything slip and the boys are making it terribly hard on him

Masterlist Link!

“That’s just a fucking nightmare,” Sukuna scoffed, tipping his glass back. “You, of all people, with a kid?”

“Oh, come on. I’d be great! My kid would be gorgeous,” Satoru declared, ever confident.

“Gorgeous with a mouth full of cavities, I bet,” Toji drawled, taking a slow sip of his drink.

“Nothing a great dentist can’t fix,” Gojo quipped, brushing it off like it was nothing.

“Anyways, not the point of the story. She’s getting rid of it tomorrow—I had my lawyer draft up an NDA, so it’ll all be fine.”

Sukuna shook his head, amusement curling at the edges of his smirk. “Of course it’d be you out of all of us to have the first pregnancy scare.”

Satoru furrowed his white brows. “Is that a joke? Toji is sitting right next to you, y’know.”

Oh Suguru's feeling sick.

Toji arched a brow, unimpressed. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?” He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “I’m not out here sleeping around like you.”

Satoru grinned, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Well, no, but you were in a relationship for what—six years? And Y/N let me in on your little allergy to condoms, you know. I’m shocked nothing came out of that.”

Toji doesn't even flinch at the mention of his ex, instead scoffing at the comparison between himself and Satoru.

Suguru took a slow, deep breath, staring at the swirling whiskey in his glass. If he just stood up and walked out, would it be too obvious?

Sukuna let out a low whistle, nudging Toji’s side. “Yeah, got you there, brother.”

Toji rolled his green eyes, exhaling through his nose. “I didn’t meet Y/N and start fucking her raw after a week in Ibiza, Satoru. I was with her for six years. Sue me.”

[shawtylex09]

⋆˙⟡ Crushing. Tenya Iida x Flirty!Fem!Reader ⟡⋆˙

⋆.˚✮ Valentine’s Day story 6/14 ✮˚.⋆

Warnings; swearing

Enjoy my gorgeous people ✧˖°.

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Tenya didn’t know what was going on with himself. He was never one for being the best with girls. Sure! He was attractive, but he wasn’t particularly charismatic (at least he didn’t think so) so he didn’t understand why you seemed so interested in him.

The poor boy knew you flirted with others, like Kaminari, Uraraka, Izuku was one of your favorites to tease, and even Bakugou, so why was he so affected by you?

He knew you were just teasing, he knew it was just you being friendly and joking around, but each time you made a comment about his body, or his hair or called him by a pet name, his heart raced faster than he did with his quirk.

Iida had never been too interested in dating in the past, seeing as how it brought a lot of stress and anxiety and sometimes a lot of pain, however, there was something about you.

Maybe it was the smell of weed on your clothes when you came in from smoking with Sero and Kaminari, maybe it was the style of clothing you had, maybe it was your nail polish and the rings on your fingers- but Iida was hooked.

To be fair, you were extremely pretty, so it made sense that the boy would crush on you.

Iida walked into the dorm commons, holding a glass. It was getting late, around 9:30 on a warm Friday night. The class was sitting in a circle, while Kaminari balanced a collective 13 phones on his arms, legs, and even a few on his face, all of them charging.

There was laughter and cheers as another phone was placed on the blonde, going on his forehead, before he sneezed, and the phones went flying off of him.

“What are you doing?” Iida asked with a deadpan, crossing his arms and giving an unimpressed look to the class.

Mina looked up and grinned “oh~! Iida! We were just playing truth or dare! You should play with us!” She encouraged with a wide smile.

Iida knew that truth or dare with his class could get pretty wild, so he opened his mouth to protest “yeah! Cmon Iida, it’ll be fun”

His eyes snapped to where you were sitting, and he felt heat rise to his cheeks. You wanted him to play with your class..

..Damn it. How could he say no to that face?

“F-fine..I suppose I could join this game for a bit..” he mumbled reluctantly.

You and the rest of the class whooped in celebration as he sat in the circle with you all. He was regretting his decision the moment Mina smirked. “So! Y/n! I believe it was your turn! So. Truth or dare?”

You smirked, leaning forward and winking at Mina “dare, lay it on me, mommas”

Mina giggled and hummed before gasping and glancing to Iida with a mischievous glint in her eye, that look making a pit grow in his stomach.

“I dare you to kiss Iida!”

You grinned at the dare. For you, it was simple, for Iida, his world was about to collapse. Him? Kissing Tenya Iida? Himself? Yeah he was sure he was going to pass out. “I-I do not know if th-this is a good idea Y- mph!”

You placed your finger over his lips and laughed “relax. ‘M not gonna kiss you if you don’t want me to, but I think it’ll be fun, Iida” you caressed his cheek after pushing up his glasses for him.

Iida flushed brightly, his eyes widening ever so slightly. Why would you give him the decision?

“I-I…I do not mind I-if you kiss me” he managed to stutter out “it is just for a game after all” he let out a breath and adjusted his glasses.

You smiled gently, running your thumb over his cheek. “That’s what I thought.” You smirked “good boy”

He gasped and blushed, but didn’t get to say anything as you pressed your lips to his.

Iida’s eyes fluttered softly before closing. The kiss was amazing, your lips against his felt amazing.

He was dazed as you pulled back, his eyes slowly fluttering back open, and his cheek bright pink. You smiled and tucked his hair behind his ear “I like your chapstick. You should let me wear it more often”

Iida blushed and looked off to the side, trying to stay cool as you sat back in your spot.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew for sure now, he was crushing on you, and there was nothing he could do about it.

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I love Iida sm, he’s actually so pookie. Feeding the 3 other Iida simps 🙏🏻😩

[skullypettibone]

Hi! 2 or 11 for the Ingellvar asks, if you want!

Answer under a read more bc this got long! Some notes: This ask references this post about Lucanis starting a colony of flesh eating beetles as a gift to my Mourn Watcher Rook. Fun fact: dermestid beetles will start flying at high temperatures lmao.

Also um I got carried away so. CW for some implied sexual content at the beginning. It's not smut but probably more foreplay than you'd expect for a story time about taking care of beetles

There was a time it would be unthinkable for Lucanis to see sunlight upon waking. Caterina’s training had always begun well before dawn broke, and once he was grown the habit was simply too ingrained. Now it was one of his favorite indulgences. The Treviso sun was already starting to warm the room, and he relished the chance to lie and just watch the first few rays of sunlight dance across Rook’s face. In a testament to how content Lucanis was, Spite lay passed out on the sofa, even dressed down in casual wear.

Rook’s eyes were starting to flutter awake as well, and they groggily wiped the string of drool from their mouth. Lucanis smiled and nudged his nose against theirs. “I know you’re awake. Good morning,” he said.

Rook’s eyes slid open and they sleepily smiled at him. “Well hello,” they said. Their eyes drifted up to note daylight was already shining into the room. “It’s not like you to stay in bed so long.”

Lucanis kissed them. “Indeed, someone tired me out last night.”

Rook huffed. “‘Tired out’ he says. As if I didn’t let you moan and look pretty while I did all the work,” they complained, but helpfully tilted their head so he could place kisses down their neck. Lucanis smiled into the crook of their shoulder. Rook was always so grumpy in the mornings.

“Right, so sorry, mi amor. Want me to make that up to you?” Rook gave a thoughtful hum. They pretended to think it over, but their arms were already wrapping around his waist in a hug.

“I suppose,” they said. Then made a face. “Would you mind opening the window first though? It’s rather warm in here.”

Lucanis pressed a quick kiss to their lips before popping up. He didn’t bother to pull on pants; Lucanis knew Rook well enough to know they were admiring his ass as he walked across the room.

“Unfortunately, I think you’ll have to get used to the heat,” he said as he slid the window open. “Treviso’s climate is much warmer than the Necropolis, especially in the summer. Our humidity is higher as—” Lucanis turned back to where Rook lay waiting for him. Rook’s eyes flicked back up to meet his intently, and he hurried back to bed.

Lucanis braced his forearms on the bed, bracketing Rook in. They returned his kiss hotly but pulled back after a moment. “Hm, actually maybe it’ll help if I’m on top? It…really is quite hot today.”

Ever adaptable, Lucanis slid his arms under Rook’s back and rolled them. “Perhaps it’ll be cooler if you take the rest of your clothes off?” he suggested, helpfully.

Rook opened their mouth to respond, but seemed to have a realization and gasped in horror. “Oh no, the beetles!” they yelled and rolled off of him. They yanked on their robe, and raced out of the room.

Lucanis blinked, unsure of what just happened. “The what?”

Spite appeared next to him, lounging on the bed. ‘Rook said beetles. Then they opened a door,’ Spite said, nodding happily. He did love when Rook did that.

—

Lucanis, now dressed, stood next to Rook outside a discreet shed tucked away on the Dellamorte grounds. They both stared in horror at the aquarium that had once housed Rook’s collection of flesh eating beetles. The aquarium itself was fine, however the beetles…

‘LUCANIS. The beetles. Are like. US.’ Spite said in delight. The beetles had spread their own wings and taken to the sky. Lucanis ignored him.

“Do you think Catarina will notice?” The hoard of bugs flying around the shed were starting to disperse across the estate grounds.

“Doesn’t matter; we have to get them back,” Rook said wretchedly, as if a lost child was at stake. “Do you think the kitchen will have enough jars on hand?”

Lucanis gave Rook a weary look. There was no lost love between him and Rook’s smelly beetle collection. “Gin, we could just let them go free,” he said desperately. “Maybe they’ll be happier in the wild.”

Rook gave him a hurt look.

“Caro mio, it’ll be okay. Emmrich’s only an eluvian away; I’m sure he won’t mind donating a few to start a new colony. And I’ll get a lid so your beetles can’t escape again,” he tried.

Rook’s elven ears pinned back. “Lucanis, these are our beetles.”

Ah. As much as Lucanis hated them, he was after all the one to set up the enclosure. It had been been a labor of love, tending to the beetles in secret until a colony grew large enough that Rook could use them to clean skulls.

Rook looked like they were going to cry. Lucanis’s shoulders slumped. He said, “I’ll check the kitchen for jars. You ask the staff if we have any netting on hand.”

[ceramicbeetle]

first wip shot! this is my first time sculpting a human face so it’s a good start, but the features aren’t right. I probably need to start the whole thing over from the top though bc i think i created the skull shape assuming id do a simpler style but then i started the facial features a lot more realistic lol, so there’s a discrepancy that’ll probably only get worse the more i refine the facial features, but its not bad for a first round!!

[rowanthestrange]

You ever heard of ‘second childing’? That thing where for your first child you read all the books, you hyperfocus on every little thing, plan out their life and time, and rush them to the doctor if they hiccup; but for your second child you just watch casually as Jessica ricochets off the coffee table and you’re like…‘eh, they’re fine’.

Second Childing this puppy hard. Are we fully puppy proofed? Beh, it’s safe. Sure the ground level food cabinet door hasn’t been reattached yet and we’re gonna see him wander in with a packet of instant noodles at some point, but whatever.

[skyward-floored]

hrrrrngh the dog watching/house sitting thing I agreed to do before Christmas is actually five days and not three like I thought and the last day is Christmas Eve even though I thought the last day was the 23 and my family is being dragged on a trip the day after Christmas so I’m only going to get like two quiet days in there and the trip is going to be like five days and

[commander-gloryforge]

mental illness

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[ghostzzy]

man. the fucking 4D chess.