#I have a good amount of queued posts that I managed to get thank God but everything else is just gone???

[graysexualcreature]

my askbox just deleted everything that was in it for some reason??? What the hell???

[princess-of-inarizaki]

hi!! idk if your requests are open (if they aren’t then just ignore this!) but would you be able to write something about any teams you want seeing their sweet lil manager in a maid costume? like maybe it’s the school festival and the volleyball team gets assigned to be a maid/butler cafe and the boys just lose it when they see manager-chan in her outfit

Oh my gosh. Maid costumes. Yes, just yes. Ladies and gentlemen I have found my new obsession.

Thanks for requesting, anon <3

Inarizaki seeing you in a maid's costume.

So school's almost out... But before that, comes the cherry on top! and something most students totally look forward to— the summer school festival.

this is where each club kinda opens up a booth of their own, and the club with the most visitors win a cash prize (I mean, money does seem like pretty sweet compensation, right?)

Anyways !! The boys are really really determined to win. They need funding for stuff like jerseys and transportation to games (so they're really set on coming up with something good)

“how about a butler café?” you suggest, with a smirk, getting the idea from watching black butler a few days ago.

“we can't all be butlers” drawls Suna, his head in your lap. Apparently, he was super tired after practice and couldn't help but settle down quietly during the discussion.

“I'll just be a maid then” you said with a smile. “So it can be a butler-maid café”

Atsumu nods enthusiastically whilst Osamu is already jotting down some ideas on what to serve. meanwhile, Kita is already assigning everyone with duties

Kita: so y/n will be a maid whilst Atsumu, Suna, and Akagi will be butlers. Osamu will make the food, and I'll help him in the kitchen. Aran will work on the counter handling the money. Is everyone clear?

Everyone else: yes sir

So the days passed with Osamu and Kita perfecting the menu and Atsumu, Suna and Akagi getting your help with their butler costumes.

However, you never showed them yours (preferring to keep it a secret and reveal it on the big day) frankly, the boys had little to no expectations regarding the maid outfit. They weren't aware of how maid outfits were seen as pretty sexy, so the thought of it never crossed their minds.

Finally, the big day arrived and you were busy slipping into your maid costume. It had the right amount of frills and looked really cute on you.

“I don't remember it being this short though” you said uneasily with a small blush as you emerged to find the boys. The skirt was only a few inches down your thigh and rode up a whole lot whenever you sat down.

Finally, you saw the boys in their butler costumes and cleared your throat to alert them of your presence.

The boys:

Atsumu: oh my god... Y-you... Oh fuck. I- y/n you're so... (he can barely string words together, what have you done to him? XD)

Akagi: *passes out with a nosebleed*

Kita and Aran: prominent blushes as they turn away, cheeks red and hearts racing

Osamu and Suna aren't there since they're still pretty busy. You blush and hide your face between your hands. “Ahhh you guys stop staring, I know this looks horrible.”

That snapped them out of their trance as they rushed over to you (with the exception of Akagi), Atsumu gently strokes your cheek. “hey sweetheart, ya don't look horrible, okay? Yer' so beautiful, I'm having a hard time looking at you.”

You smile at him as Aran rubs your had reassuringly. “yeah you're gorgeous, y/n-san” says Kita with a small smile (and HUGE blush).

They're all just so collectively whipped as they further inspect you. I mean they never actually knew how lethal maid outfits could be but this was almost dangerous.

“Hey babe, why don't you go show 'Samu your outfit?” suggests Atsumu with a smirk.

“Oh good idea, Tsum Tsum!” you nod as you make your way to the back of the booth where Osamu and Suna are talking. They don't notice you yet, so you walk a bit closer (as Atsumu and the rest stare from a distance, ready to laugh at the boys' reactions).

Osamu and Suna: ...

Suna: marry me. Right now. You and me are getting married. And I'm going to take you home and we are going to—

Osamu: oh my god shut up! *Blushes and looks at y/n* Suna we need to talk about what she'll eat.

Osamu: I mean I'll eat y/n.

Osamu: *stuttering* I mean what we'll eat. Together. After this event. Oh my god y/n, my love?

Y/n: yes, Samu'?

Osamu: cupcake, please step away, I think my brain is short circuiting.

Atsumu, recording: fucking GOLD. He's so flustered it's almost sad 😭

Suna: y/n I mean it, we're getting married and from here on out, you are mine.

The rest of the boys: screw off <3

Y/n: (◕ᴗ◕✿)

Anyways, the event is a huge success, especially since most of the male students (and a few female ones) have the exact same reaction as our volleyball boys.

Paired with Atsumu, Suna, and Akagi's flair as charming and sexy butlers, it's no surprise you guys win the prize money and sell out everything in the café.

“till next year” whispers Suna wistfully as he watches you walk to the dressing room. “maid y/n you will be missed” he calls out playfully.

“tell me about it” say the rest simultaneously.

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @sunasthing @tilli-san @k-sakusa-old

[a/n] this was queued for soooo long, I realised I had set the date wrong so I just decided to post it now xD

[purplemango501]

2019.02.23 Hyun Joong New Way Concert @ Busan

Updated My Special 501 Dates

Kind of late writing this but here goes! This is the first time I watched a concert in Korea so there’s so much I want to talk about! So once again I’m going to split this Fan Account in sections.

Prologue

To be honest I really never pictured myself watching a concert in Korea. The thought of watching a concert there just felt so distant. Even last year when I went to Macau for his concert it felt like something very far away. Furthermore I don’t understand Korean so I really didn’t think I would be able to get tickets nor did I want to get it through those resellers and let them earn big bucks for doing nothing. So the idea just really didn’t come to mind until one day I just got bored and decided to take a look at the ticketing. I must say how thankful I am that Interpark has an English site that is pretty user friendly. I was quite surprised to see that there were quite a lot of seats left and a little sad to be honest. But in a way it’s kind of good because I managed to get pretty good seats as you can see below in orange.  

Although this time I wasn’t as close as the one in Macau, it felt much better because I was in the center and i could view the whole stage at all times! It was absolutely amazing. So another concern about watching it in a foreign country is a didn’t really want to travel alone. A main issue I thought was going to be ordering food alone at restaurants, it just seems sad. I asked a lot of people to go with me but no one was interested until I asked my aunt and she was totally on board haha. So off I went to book my flight hotel and of course the concert tickets. To be honest if I couldn’t find anyone to go with me I was already prepared to go alone because I really think chances are rare and I should treasure these chances and go watch whilst I’m still young. 

Oh and one more thing is it’s so cheap watching it in Korea, all the seats have the same price, I paid for my aunt’s ticket as well and both tickets together is equivalent to one ticket in HK (the expensive category). On top of that our seats were great so it was totally worth it! 

Just Before The Concert

Again this time I found out on Weibo that there was going to be a handshake event again!! I was so shocked because this didn’t happen in the Seoul concerts earlier this month so I was super happy and excited. 

On the day we went to venue KBS Busan Hall and collected our tickets there, it was much quicker than I expected and the logistics was pretty good. We queued up based on the last name of the booking name and quickly collected the tickets. 

So I noticed the people around me were speaking in Cantonese so I asked the person in front of me if she was also from Hong Kong. Turns out a bunch of Hong Kong fans came together to support Hyun Joong. I was actually quite surprised by the amount of HK fans that came. There were at least 20 fans from HK! It was quite nice to meet people from home in a foreign concert. 

A very interesting thing I noticed is that around 70% of the people there were from overseas, mainly from Japan! Only about 30% were from Korea. 95% of the fans were middle age in their 40s to 50s hahaha. My aunt and I were probably close to the youngest ones hahhaha. My aunt kept saying how she felt like she was very young compared to the rest and clearly I also felt the same ^^

A special thing about watching concert in Korea is all the rice wreaths. This is a very Korean thing where fans raise money to donate rice wreaths and the rice will be donated to people that need it. It’s a great way to show your love for your idol and also do something good for the community. I’ve seen these in pictures but it’s the first time seeing it in person and I really like it! There was a whole bunch of these, mainly from Japanese fans and some from Hong Kong fan groups!

Compared to the shows in Hong Kong and Macau there weren’t a lot of freebies. No one was giving out banners, I was actually pretty surprised. Turns out when we went inside the hall there were some staff waiting to give out these banners that say “love you very much” in Busan dialect. We raised these up when he sang Love Song (I really like this song from his new album!! 

The Concert

Quick summary of the concert, he sang a total of 28 songs, 6 more than the Seoul concert! Of which there were a few Busan special songs! 

He started the concert with New Way, i managed to sneak one pretty bad photo but I couldn’t take any more cause the security was very strict :( 

Everyone stood up immediately! We actually stayed standing up for one and a half hours until Hyun Joong told us to sit down before Haze lol. 

Anyway he sang most of his new songs and the backdrop (?) the video that played in the background was really pretty. It was mainly scenry but it fit in very well with New Way, Why, Misery etc. 

Hyun joong mentioned that Busan stage would be a little different, suddenly the band was playing an interesting arrangement and then oh my god they played LET ME BE THE ONE!!! I WAS SO SHOCKED. Hyun Joong said this was a Busan special, he re-arranged SS501′s Let me be the one and it was just amazing. Everyone screamed like crazy, all the feels my god! I actually thought that was the only surprise stage until he sang Love Like This later in the concert. I must say he really improved his singing a lot, I think partly is cause he didn’t dance so he has more focus on his singing. He used to find it difficult to reach the high notes in Love Like This but he seemed to reach it with ease this time. Another thing is you can actually hear Saengie’s voice in the Love Like This backing!!! All my group feels my god! 

The concert actually seemed pretty long, it was 3 full hours. He didn’t change clothes at all and really committed to singing as many songs as he could. When he sang Lucky Guy the Japanese fans actually followed him and danced, it was so cute looking at some old ladies dance hahaha. They have more energy than a 23 year old (me). LOL 

When he sang Lucky Guy for the second time during encore he walked down towards the fans and he was so crazy close to me!!! I mean super close!!!! I managed to take a very short video and here are two screenshots from the video.

It was quite funny during encore because he was just going to sing three songs (ASTRAEA, Lucky Guy, Moonlight) but we kept chanting so he sang So What and said ti’s the last song. But we wanted more. Eventually he sang Kiss Kiss again!!!! I actually can’t decided if Kiss Kiss or Please is my favourite song but Kiss Kiss is just sooooo sweet. And this time it was really cute because he made us repeat the kiss kiss part so many times. It sounded super duper cute though, we all did a great job in my opinion. It was so cute!!!!  Handshake

After the concert there was the handshake event. He stood near the door and we queued up one by one and shook his hand as we left. This is the THIRD time i shook his hand and I really want t o say his hand is still ever as soft as before. I’m really lucky cause all three concerts i’ve been I was able to shake his hands. I hope in the future I’ll still have this luck <3 I still really appreciate his dedication in shaking every fan’s hand, got to love him so much <3 

Post Concert Feels

I’m really really really really glad I took the step to fly over for this concert. It was worth everything! I had a great break from work as well and traveled around Busan with my aunt and had a great time. My aunt wasn’t actually a fan of Hyun Joong but because we were going to watch his concert she actually ‘prepared’ and listened to his songs. The funny thing is now she’s addicted to his songs hahaha. 

I think watching a concert in Korea feels really different. The people feel different. In Hong Kong or in Macau there’s a lot of Mainland Chinese and although I’m Chinese myself, I cannot associate well with the older generation of Mainland Chinese people. They tend to be ill mannered and pushy. This time everyone was very disciplined. Hyun Joong jumped off stage a couple of times and walked through the crowd but the fans just stayed at their respective positions and cheered. If this happened in Hong Kong or Macau, fans would jump at him and it wouldn’t have been possible for him to walk arouond. I really appreciate how Japanese fans are so polite and well mannered. Absolutely loved it! 

Hyun Joong said he wants to have a concert in Seoul, Busan, and Jeju evvery year. I really think I”m going to go watch every year. I hope this becomes a tradition and I can grow old together with him. 

A key feeling i felt this time was he aged quite a bit, maybe cause he got fatter. But it’s also kinda cute cause it makes him more human and seem just like us. Again I’m so grateful to have him in part of my llife <3 Can’t wait for a SS501 comeback, feels like it’s not too far!! 

[ennergetics]

FILLED REQUEST: down with love, a fuckboi! seongwu au

(image credit)

pairing: ong seongwu x reader genre: fluff, angst wordcount: 3023 summary: Ong Seongwu is the campus’s resident type-A fuckboy. when you, an unknown writer, attempt to steal his spotlight, he tries to get revenge by making you fall in love with him. warnings: provocative situations, but nothing too steamy (inspired by the movie of the same name! same verse as the sungwoon prince au, but with a different reader + earlier time period. cross-posted on ao3.)

one | two

Each term, Ong Seongwu beats three of his own personal records: the number of features editors who’ve quit at the campus publication he heads; the amount of attention its social media has garnered under his editorship; and the size of his contacts list, the names of interviewees mingling with those of all the people he’s slept with.

Everybody on campus knows Ong Seongwu, and he wants to keep it that way. A consummate professional, he entered university knowing exactly what he wanted and how he was going to get there. After all, one doesn’t become an excellent reporter and social media influencer overnight; Seongwu built his brand through hard work, god-given good looks, and a knack for making people laugh. He flirts with all of them and fucks them without batting an eyelash, and none of them can say they didn’t know what they signed up for.

Yes, it’s easy to fall for Seongwu, with a story like his: a talented boy on scholarship with big dreams, eager to find someone to share his life with. The best lies are half-truths, after all. Seongwu does work hard, but he doesn’t think there’s a place in his life for love. Still, that doesn’t mean he can’t have fun, and he’s broken the many hearts of people who’ve wanted more.

PRODUCE, the publication he helped found as a freshman, is his current project and only love. He can’t help it if all the features editors up to this point have fallen hopelessly in love with him, tried to change him, and quit their jobs after failing. They were then banned from ever returning to PD101, the fond nickname for the publication’s office on campus. It’s been Seongwu’s home for his entire stay at college, and no simple flings would be able to drive him out of there.

Seongwu is at his usual spot in PD101, alternating between scrolling through PRODUCE’s social media accounts and editing the article queued for publishing within the week, when someone clears their throat.

“Boss, I’ve got an interesting piece you might want to look at.” The current features editor is a deceptively quiet boy with a knack for finding the best stories. Park Woojin quite easily turned down Seongwu’s early attempts at banter, and Seongwu’s glad to find an editor who might actually last till the end of the year and beyond. Woojin is clever enough that Seongwu might bring him onto the team when he expands PRODUCE beyond the campus, but that’s not important right now. If Woojin says a story’s got promise, Seongwu’s willing to bet on it.

He takes the tablet from Woojin and skims the article someone sent in to their submissions email. The sender, one L/N Y/N, doesn’t even have a picture up on their profile, which is a red flag for Seongwu. He gives it a cursory read-through, his expression souring as he gets further. It’s well-written, sure, but the article hinges on a tip for those lost in love: take control of their romantic lives ‘by not fucking scrubs more than once.’

He vaguely remembers what the word means: it’s a gender-neutral word for “fuckboy” that was popular in the ‘90s. Seongwu snorts. “Of course we’re not publishing this. It’s barely worth the minute I gave it my attention.” He doesn’t really think that, but PRODUCE is his magazine and he’s not going to publish anything so contrary to his own lifestyle. There’s something about this piece that feels like a personal attack, though Seongwu can’t quite place his finger on it. Before texting his next hook-up for the week, he gives Woojin a look; Woojin shrugs; and that’s the end of that.

Two days later, everyone on campus is talking about an explosive blog post promoted through the school’s online billboard system, titled “DOWN WITH LOVE.” Seongwu checks out the link and finds a more polished version of what had been sent in, complete with properly sourced memes and gifs. That annoys Seongwu enough, but now none of his regular fuck buddies will pick up his calls or reply to his texts—that is, except for the three who sent him a link to the blog post.

Seongwu looks you up and discovers you’re quite attractive, your photos tastefully shot and social media clean. He’s scrolling through your twitter when he sees a question about whom you think ‘the worst scrubs on campus’ are.  There’s only one name there: his. “Never met him, but everybody tells me he’s an ass,” your answer says.

That’s the moment he decides he’s going to get his revenge. Ong Seongwu doesn’t lose, and it should be easy enough to make you fall in love with a self-proclaimed fuckboy like himself. You’ve never met him—in fact, you refuse to meet with him or any of the PRODUCE staffers—and his carefully curated social media means he can control his image perfectly. Seongwu puts on glasses, parts his hair in the middle, and borrows from his friend Jisung’s wardrobe, making himself practically unrecognizable, then sets himself up as a new student in your project management class.

Adopting a Busan accent that’s a passable approximation of Woojin’s way of speaking, Seongwu strikes up conversation with you. “Hey,” he says softly, “have you got a copy of the syllabus? I just shifted into this class.”

“I do,” you say, your tone oddly hopeful. “You don’t know who I am?” You look surprised that he’s talking to you. He imagines you must not be popular; infamous, yes, but you probably didn’t make many friends publishing and promoting your post like that. Your campus is filled with easily identified scrubs who probably didn’t take too kindly to having their beds suddenly empty.

Seongwu cocks his head in a way he knows makes hearts flutter, blinking at you. “No, should I?”

“No, no, not at all!” you say, a grin lighting up your face. “Here, I’ve got it on my phone.” You hand him your phone, and Seongwu makes sure your fingers touch his. He exaggerates his reaction, looking down with a sheepish smile, but he feels his cheeks turn warm. Seongwu shakes his head. It’s been a while, he tells himself, and that’s all it is.

The class starts and he has no chance to return your phone. You’re engrossed in the professor’s explanation—something about the various management frameworks, and Seongwu realizes he’s in over his head here as a communications major—but you glance at him occasionally, worrying your lower lip with your teeth.

Within ten minutes, the class is over, the first day a simple explanation of the syllabus. Seongwu doesn’t need to graduate with Latin honours, but he wants to. This class is beginning to look like an obstacle, and he curses how foolhardy he was with this plot. It spoke volumes about how much you’d shaken up his routine. Still, there was a way for him to kill two birds with one stone.

“Um, thank you for lending me your phone,” he says, scratching at the back of his head. “It’d be great if we could be study buddies?” Seongwu says, letting his hair fall over his forehead just so. “I’m Hong Sungwoon, but my friends call me Ong. They say I’m too much of an old man,” he says, chuckling. This way, you’ll use a name he’ll recognize, but won’t know it’s him.

You’re smiling up at him, then he sees a spark in your eyes. Bullseye. “Maybe I should get your number, Ong-sshi,” you say. “It wouldn’t be hard to study with a cute face like yours beside me.”

Seongwu covers his mouth with his hand. “Gosh,” he says, “I’ve never had anyone be this forward with me before, especially not someone as attractive as you.” Your eyes soften, and Seongwu admits it’s a look that makes him feel warm inside. He almost feels bad about how he’s going to break your heart.

“Then we’ll both be lucky,” you say, handing him your phone. Your fingers linger at his arm, tracing a light pattern on his bicep as Seongwu inputs his number. He ignores the shiver up his spine at your lazy smile, keeping the act up and trembling slightly when he hands your phone back.

Your first study session is in the following week, right before a quantitative quiz Seongwu has no idea how to answer. Hong Sungwoon is a man afraid of crowds, so the two of you study at the roof of the old biology building, a spot you’ve apparently been keeping to yourself since you got to university. It’s conveniently near PD101, so everything works out for Seongwu.

He’s sitting with his side flushed against yours, watching you push up your glasses every few moments while explaining the necessary diagrams to him. When he feels you shiver at the chill, he places an arm around you as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You shouldn’t be cold,” he says, wide-eyed.

You grin up at him, snuggling closer and leaning your head on his shoulder. The hand with the papers you’re scribbling on falls onto his upper thigh, and when you show how the items flow from one department to another, he feels the pressure of your finger against his skin.

The rest of the session continues like this, with Seongwu finding excuses for innocent touches here and there, with you escalating each one. Your breathing becomes shallow, a cute flush beginning to show on your skin. Seongwu resists the urge to pull you into a kiss, internally reminding himself of the part he has to play. It’s when you’re done explaining the whole lesson, practically sitting in his lap, when you turn to him and place your hand on his chest.

You draw your face close to his and whisper against his mouth. “Ong,” you say, looking into his eyes, “how would you feel about lessons of a different kind?” And Seongwu springs away as if burned, sputtering while trying to hide his laugh at how corny your line had been.

“I couldn’t possibly do that, Y/N-sshi!” he says. “I mean, I’ve never really done that kind of thing before, and I want to save myself for someone special, you know?” But before you can say anything else, he adds, “I would certainly be honoured to take you out on a date, though. You seem swell, and I’d love to get to know you better.”

Seongwu sees you considering it, and for a moment he’s worried you won’t take the bait. “I mean,” he says, pressing his hand into the small of your back, as if he doesn’t feel you shuddering under his touch, “it’s hard for me to control myself when you’re so pretty, but you could be...”His fingers curl up, scratching lightly against your shirt in a way he knows you’ll feel. “…you could be my first.”

He’s got you there, and right after a grueling, fifty-point quiz, he takes you out to a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant. The auntie running the kitchen waves at him when he ushers you in, flashing both of you a big smile. “I’m not the most well-off,” he says, milking your sympathy. As you look around with wide eyes, though, he feels his throat itch with apprehension. In a way, this is an honest side of himself, one no one, especially not his hook-ups, ever get to see.

“I love it,” you say solemnly. He orders for the both of you, and you dig into the home-cooked meals with gusto. Seongwu makes sure to feed you once or twice, ignoring how your tongue slips out to lick the rich sauces off your lips. The whole time, you both talk about how you ended up at the university, Seongwu giving you a sanitized version of his history, omitting how cutthroat he’d been throughout the years while building his virtual empire. He finds out that you’re just as driven as he is, with a mind skilled at data visualization and a minor in publication management.

You insist on splitting the bill, but the auntie surprises you both by telling you the meal is free. “This young man is a regular customer, and I’m happy to see him finally out on a date,” she says, and Seongwu thanks the stars for having her back up the alibi he’s given.

He walks you home, and at your doorstep, you give him a kiss that tastes like auntie’s best tteokbokki, and Seongwu deepens the kiss for a moment before remembering the long-term plan. You’re breathing hard when he pulls away, your pupils dilated and your grip on his neck tight. “Come in,” you say breathily, your hand moving to stroke at his jaw.

“I-I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” Seongwu says, though every bone in his body—as well as all the blood that rushed south at the feel of your hips against his—disagrees. “I’ll see you in class next week.” He kisses you on the cheek before extracting himself from your grasp.

Numerous dates and study sessions go by, with your hands wandering his body more and more desperately and his famous self-control slowly but surely being eroded by your touch. One night he gives in and you make out on your couch, his grip around your waist tight as you grind against each other. He waits till you come and leaves with a terrible case of blue balls, insisting on being a gentleman all the while. Never mind how dirty his groans are when he jacks off later in the shower, your name on his lips. As he leans his head against the shower stall, his heavy pants fogging up the glass, Seongwu thinks something has to be done.

You’re at one of the smaller study halls, one rarely frequented by students, when Seongwu decides it’s time to enact the final phase of his plan. He ignores the uneasy feeling at the back of his mind, willing himself not to feel anything when you thread your fingers between his. For once, the two of you aren’t caught up studying, and he pulls you to a rarely visited section of the hall, where you crowd him against the bookshelf and pull his lips to your own.

Your lips are puffy and his hair’s a mess when he pulls away, stilling the gentle grind of your hips with one steady hand. “I’m not sure,” he says, putting all the confusion and turmoil he’s feeling into his next words. “I think—I think you’re the one for me, but I don’t know how you feel.”

Seongwu’s set up a hidden camera on the top shelf, ready to record your confession for posting at prime-time. Everything’s in place for him to succeed, but he can’t deny the apprehension he feels. He wants you to confess because it means he wins, that you’re a hypocrite who doesn’t walk your talk. But part of him wants you to confess because he wants to know how you’ve felt about these last three months you’ve spent together.

You sigh once. Seongwu holds his breath. “I’m in love with you. I wrote an article decrying love and its associated pains, but it all feels like a lifetime ago. You’ve made me so happy these past three months. It was impossible for me not to fall for you.” And Seongwu smiles, having won both your heart and the competition you hadn’t even known about.

“That is, if I hadn’t fallen for you already, Ong Seongwu.”

You stand on your tiptoes and reach for the camera, switching it off. Seongwu’s jaw hangs open, and while he’s staring at you wordlessly, you begin to speak. “A year ago, an impressionable junior applied for the features editor opening at PRODUCE magazine. I needed some experience for minor credits, and yours was one of the most-talked-about and better-run among the accessible publications. I was starstruck by you then, so smooth and suave and skilled. You knew precisely what you wanted and how to get it.

“I told myself that I wouldn’t sleep with you, even as your flirting got more intense. It’s easy enough to fall in lust with you, Seongwu, but the sides you showed during the magazine’s times of trouble, the rare moments you bared your heart—in the end, I fell hard. You took me to bed during the Christmas party and never talked to me again.”

Seongwu’s brows furrow. “So you wanted revenge by getting me to date you?”

“No, you silly boy,” you say, reaching out to touch Seongwu’s face. “I just wanted you to like me. I knew it’d be irresistible to you, the idea of making someone crack, to the point that you’d let down your cool exterior and be the you no one else gets to see.”

He’s floored. There it is, that feeling again, of being bested by someone else—the same someone, no less—but it’s overshadowed by the realization that everything you’re saying is true. Maybe he hasn’t fallen in love with you just yet, but he’s certainly getting there. Ironically enough, words aren’t always easy for him, and he hasn’t verbalized the meaning behind his enthusiasm as he checks for your messages in the morning; the energy he feels after laughing in class with you; the tenderness of your interlinked arms as he walks you home.

“I do like you,” he says, “more than I knew. More than I should. But we can be happy now, can’t we? I’ll release this cover story, we’ll go on dates for real, I’ll ask you to go steady, and we’ll live a good life, or whatever it is always comes at the end of romantic comedies.”

You look troubled for the first time, and Seongwu feels the seed of worry grow. “I can’t. So many people here on campus are better off because of me. No more awful ghosting, no more one-night stands that they expected more from, and no more silly attachments.” You shrug before pulling him close. “I’ll miss you.”

Taking the camera with you, you smile sadly, giving Seongwu one last chaste kiss. “I guess I’m a down-with-love kid, after all.”

[queer-anime-girls-blog]

Freezerburn Headcanons Pt.1

So I just went through @shaevira ‘s entire freezerburn tag like the creeper newbie I am (expect queued art posts for the next several days) and I saw she had asked for headcanons a while back, so -- despite my newness -- I’m gonna offer a couple of my suddenly overpowering wholesome fantasies preliminary thoughts on the matter! In the form of quick ficlet-type things!

#1- V3 Finale (a.k.a. Give Me This as a Flashback PLEASE)

Yang is sleeping on a makeshift bed. There are fresh bandages on what’s left of her dominant arm. Ruby is unconscious on the bed next to her. They’ve just landed safely in the city, and a flood of ashen, shaken passengers are beginning to disembark the airship.

Weiss is standing hesitantly in the doorway of the cramped compartment the sisters are being kept in. Her eyes are frightened and confused as she assesses Ruby’s apparently undamaged body. Weiss begins remembering standing at the base of the tower, seeing the blinding flash of silver light, hearing the dragon scream in agony. No one will tell her what it was, why it happened, how Ruby survived it, when she’ll wake up...

Weiss’s eyes move over to Yang’s body. Just then, Yang begins murmuring in her sleep, disturbed little noises, whispering “no please don’t hurt her” without waking. And then Yang’s left hand begins to shake on top of the sheets.

Weiss’s breath hitches with a barely-contained sob. A single tear leaks out and traces the prominent line of the scar beneath her eye, but she savagely wipes it away. She feels broken and useless. But she sucks in enough air to brace herself, and drops down on her knees next to Yang’s bed to gently shake her awake.

“Yang, wake up,” she whispers as Yang finally begins to stir. “You’re having a bad dream.”

Yang turns her head towards Weiss’s voice and opens her eyes, but the purple hue of them looks dull and cold.

“We’re living a bad dream,” Yang retorts flatly.

Weiss doesn’t know how to respond to that, and she hesitates awkwardly before continuing. “Well. The ship just landed. I wanted to say goodbye to both of you.”

Some feeling flickers back into Yang’s eyes. “Goodbye?”

“I’ve received word that my father has some employees waiting to intercept me in the city and take me to a safehouse. He’ll be arriving personally soon after that to escort me home.”

“... Oh.”

“... Yeah.”

“Well. Then, I guess I’ll, um. See you soon.”

“Perhaps. I mean, I certainly hope so, but...”

Weiss doesn’t finish that sentence. They both know how uncertain the world will be for a long time. After that, neither of them really know what to say, or how to look at each other, or whether to offer a comforting touch, so they don’t.

“Is Blake around?” Yang asks after a tense silence.

Something inside Weiss tightens unpleasantly. Of course Yang would care more about speaking to Blake than to her, even though this might be the last time they ever see each other. Of course.

“No. But I imagine she’s somewhere on board still, if you haven’t seen her yet. I tried to talk to her while someone was tending to her stomach wound, but... you know Blake. When she wants to shut you out, there’s no way in.”

Yang frowns darkly. “Yeah, I do know.”

“After she was done being bandaged she swept off somewhere. I didn’t try to follow, but I saw Sun run off after her. He’ll know where she went.” Weiss pauses and lets her gaze flicker miserably back to Ruby. “Did someone tell you when she might wake up?”

Yang turns to look at Ruby as well, and her voice goes softer. “Qrow said it might be a few days. But she’ll be fine. I promise.”

“That’s... such a relief. Thank you,” Weiss sighs. “But, um. Will you be fine?”

Their eyes meet again.

“Weiss,” Yang says, instead of answering. She almost manages a ghost of a smile as she adds, “I’ll miss you.”

Something that had been coiled up tight in Weiss’s chest without her realizing it suddenly loosens. “I’ll miss you too,” she breathes.

It still doesn’t feel like a good enough parting, somehow. Weiss’s hand twitches like it wants to reach out and touch -- but what? A shoulder? A cheek?

Before her hand can decide what it wants, two men in white suits appear to insistently guide her away.

#2- Yang’s Hair (a.k.a. Bring This Back as a Plot Point PLEASE)

Weiss knows exactly what Yang’s hair feels like now. Maybe that’s a strange thing to be fixating on when there’s so much else to think about, so many other things she has recently discovered about the world. But late at night, in the room she’s sharing with Yang, she watches surreptitiously as Yang brushes out her long, golden locks, and remembers how the silky waves felt under her desperately clinging fingers. How they smelled, so close to Yang’s neck, as Weiss buried her face in it. Like warm, honeyed porridge, and flowers, and fresh sweat...

And every time Weiss thinks about that -- confusingly -- her cheeks heat up, and she forces herself to focus on her own pre-sleep rituals.

Why does her mind keep returning her to the memory of that hug? It didn’t really last that much longer than the hug she shared with both Yang and Ruby soon afterwards. It wasn’t that much more intense or comforting. Was it?

Regardless, it was the first time she could remember feeling Yang’s hair. And maybe that sort of seemed like a big deal because Yang never let just anyone touch it.

“May I play with your hair?” she blurts without thinking, and is mortified before she’s even finished saying it.

“Why?” Yang asks, turning and raising surprised eyebrows. She sits her brush down on the bed beside her thigh. “Are you trying to convince me to change my style, or do you just... want to?”

Weiss forgets how to swallow like a normal human under Yang’s questioning, vaguely-amused gaze. She thinks about huffing or harrumphing, considers recovering her facade of dignity with a denial and a cutting remark. But, really, she’s so over putting on an act in front of Yang. Especially when they’re alone together. Especially now that she knows how good and safe if feels to let herself be soft and vulnerable with Yang...

“I just want to,” Weiss forces out, and it’s maybe the hardest thing she’s ever had to say for some reason. “... May I?”

Yang lets out a bark of delighted laughter, but quickly stifles it and glances at the closed door. Weiss is certain they’re both thinking the same thing in that moment: better not laugh too loudly, or Ruby will wake up, and she’ll probably want to come in here...

As soon as Weiss processes the thought, she feels hyper aware of the fact that neither of them seem to want their alone time interrupted, even by someone they’ve both missed a lot as well. That’s weird, isn’t it? She feels like she should feel weirder about it than she does.

“Go ahead, Weiss. Go wild,” Yang says softly, grinning broadly.

It takes a beat for Weiss to remember Yang is answering the question about her hair.

She hesitates, perched gracefully on the edge of her own bed with her ankles crossed and her hands knotted in her lap. But she smirks as she finds the knee-strength to stand. “Do you really want to give me that much license with it?”

“I trust you. I mean, your hair always looks all shiny and elegant, so...go for it.”

Yang shrugs, still grinning, and cocks her head to the side invitingly. Weiss wonders if Yang knows how unintentionally alluring she can be sometimes. Or most times, really. Practically always, to be totally honest.

... Oh gods.

Feeling a bit dazed and more than a bit apprehensive, Weiss moves determinedly to fit herself on the slice of mattress between Yang and the wall. The amount of their skin that brushes together as she slides into place is mildly alarming for reasons she is entirely unprepared to confront, so she shoves those feelings into a box in her mind labeled 'maybe panic about this later' and focuses all of her attention on the blonde cascade right in front of her face.

She begins gently, just stroking her fingers from root to tip in a slow, soothing rhythm. Yang sighs, like she’s pleased or relaxed or both, and Weiss gets bolder. Her fingers dig in deep -- to rub Yang’s scalp, or curl strands around experimentally, or to measure out sections for braids that will be quickly undone. All of it feels amazing to Weiss, and the longer she does it the more Yang tries to melt back into Weiss’s chest.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” Weiss chides, but she adjusts her arms so she can continue to comb through Yang’s hair without having a comfortable amount of space between them.

Yang snorts. “Sorry. I think I was entering a strange half-dream state.”

“A half-dream?”

“Yeah. I was imagining us sitting just like this on my bike. The rumble of the engine is kinda relaxing, too. I dunno. Weird association, I guess.”

“It’s not weird. I liked being on your bike. I felt... safe. With you. But... I suppose that wasn’t really because of the bike.”

“Yeah,” Yang replies, quiet and sweet.

They don’t say anything after that. It’s not long before Yang lies down on her side without a word. Weiss knows she doesn’t have to go back to her own bed if she doesn’t want to.

She decides -- with another quickly-compartmentalized wave of panic -- that what she really, really wants is to stay and keep stroking Yang’s hair until they both fall asleep.

So she does.

[minahraven]

A New Kind of Sleepover - BTS/ Yoongi (M) (Request)

“Anonymous asked: Okay so here goes lol, can i pls have a yoongi smut where y/n and him have been best friends for a long time and one timw when he comes over for a sleepover things get steamy and they end up doing it? But theyre also trying to be quiet bc of he parents? can it also include a lot of fingering and teasing? Thank you 😊😊 “

A/N - This is the first smut I’ve posted, so I apologise if it’s no good. I always say, the only way you can get better is by practise!

A New Kind of Sleepover - BTS/ Yoongi (M)

“We’ll be in my room, Mom!” you shouted as you grabbed your best friend’s wrist, giggling at the grin on his face at your mom’s quick agreement. You darted up the stairs, carrier bags banging against your legs. Saturday night was usually a club night for most. Not you two. For as long as you could remember, you’d spent almost every Saturday night together either at his house or yours, watching movies, snacking on whatever you had gathered from the convenience store that evening and generally being idiots until both of you had fallen asleep. It didn’t matter that you had long since grown past the ‘sleepover’ age. You were still best friends and, in your eyes, that meant nothing had changed. At least, not in that sense. Sure, you had grown up, and your chats had gone from ‘bet you I can fart louder than you!’ to ‘so, how’d your date go last week?’, but Yoongi and you were still inseparable.

As soon as you reached your room, Yoongi immediately divebombed onto your bed, earning a slap to the backside at his behaviour. He knew perfectly well he had already broken one of your beds that way. You didn’t want to lose another. You rolled your eyes when he turned over, leaning on one elbow and resting his head in his hand, and gave you a cheeky smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“If that was the type of sleepover you wanted tonight, all you had to do was ask, baby,” he teased, and your palm flew to your face so fast, the slapping sound was audible…as was your yelp of pain. “Baby, I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed, scrambling off the bed and pulling your hand from your face, inspecting your forehead to see if it was alright, the term of endearment he had been using for years barely even registering as you blinked back the tears from your watering eyes. “Are you okay?” you nodded, your spare hand dropping the bag you had been carrying and swatting hard at his arm.

“You should know better by now, dork!” you scolded him as you picked up the bag once more and pulled your hand from his, heading over to the bed and sinking down on it with your back against the copious amounts of pillows. He pouted and wandered round to the other side to sit next to you. Snuggling up beside you, he wrapped an arm over your stomach and rested his head on your shoulder, just as he did every time you settled down to watch a movie. You switched off the light and turned on the tv, switching to the movie you had queued. You had already decided to watch one he’d wanted first, though you weren’t too interested in it, and before long, you were playing a game on your phone while Yoongi watched the movie.

About halfway through the movie, you heard your parents shout a goodnight as they headed to bed, and the house fell silent apart from the sound from the tv and your breathing. After another hour, the movie finally finished, and you switched to your choice, smirking to yourself that it was finally Yoongi’s turn to be bored. You weren’t as smug half an hour later, though. One minute, you were watching the heroine walking through her town, the next… Blinking, you looked down, keeping your head still and only your eyes moving. Your suspicions were right. Yoongi’s hand had moved from your side and you had only just noticed that now, it was resting on your lower stomach. As you watched nervously, your teeth chewing on the inside of your lip, the hand slowly slid an inch or two lower, so that it was now resting just above your pelvis. Thanking your lucky stars that the light was out and the light from the tv wasn’t bright enough to show the redness flooding your cheeks, you took a breath, about to say something. The words caught in your throat as Yoongi’s head shifted and you felt his breath on the base of your neck, followed by the feather-light touch of his lips on the very spot that he knew was your weakness, thanks to the many games of truth or dare you had played together.

As if by its own volition, your head tilted slightly away from him, and you could feel his lips curl in his trademark smirk as he brushed another, slightly firmer kiss on the same spot, before swiping the tip of his tongue over the skin. Before you could stop it, a soft sigh escaped your throat, and you bit your lip quickly to bring your focus back to the situation.

“Y-Yoongi,” you breathed as his hand slowly moved lower, resting between your legs and making you debate whether you were glad or concerned you had worn a skirt that day. A gentle ‘hmm?’ vibrated against your shoulder and he shifted a little closer, head now firmly situated in the crook of your neck. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” He chuckled softly, nipping gently at your neck as his hand dipped between your legs, swiping one finger firmly up over the fabric and causing you to whimper under your breath.

“You want to tell me you don’t want this?” he purred. Slowly, he pulled the fabric of your skirt up as his head moved lower, his spare hand pulling your shirt up. His head rested on your chest and you felt as though perhaps he had had second thoughts, until you felt his tongue tracing the edge of your bra. Your breath caught in your throat at the touch and it wasn’t until the bra slid up over your breast that you realised he had slipped his hand behind your back and unfastened it. “Or this?” he murmured, his lips capturing your nipple and sucking on it gently. You moaned softly, one hand moving to quickly cover your mouth, shaking your head.

“No, but my parents…” you whispered, though the protest sounded more like a whine than a complaint. He chuckled again, taking your nipple between his teeth just enough to send a shiver up your spine.

“Won’t know a thing. You can stay quiet…can’t you baby?” he asked, turning his head to look up at you. The flickering lights from the tv were just enough to illuminate the devious smile on his lips as he once again ran a finger over your core, this time only one layer of fabric between his skin and yours. You started to shake your head, partly still not sure this was a good idea and partly not sure you could stay quiet. You barely managed half a shake though before the pressure on your underwear increased suddenly and he was slowly circling your bud. Suddenly no longer caring whether you should or shouldn’t be doing this, you nodded quickly, biting your lip to stifle the whimper trying to escape.

He grinned and sat up, straddling your hips as he began to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor and soon adding his own and your bra to the pile. Leaning in, he captured your lips in a slow, hungry kiss, one hand moving to cradle your head as he tugged on your bottom lip. The other slid down over your stomach, easing your skirt down. He lifted his hips enough for you to raise yours, and quickly slipped the skirt and your underwear off entirely, leaving you naked beneath him. He sat back, his eyes drifting over you for the first time.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, as though talking to himself. He rested his hands on your chest, stroking them over the skin, his thumbs toying with your nipples as they passed over them. You whined softly, your hips raising of their own accord in an attempt to press against the obvious bulge in his jeans. He chuckled darkly, leaning down to capture your lips again, the kiss rougher this time, as though he was claiming you, taking your breath away. Releasing them eventually, allowing you to recover from the kiss, he leaned his head on your shoulder, nipping and licking at your weak spot again until your fingers found their way to the back of his head, holding him there.

It wasn’t until you felt the jolt of pleasure going through you, causing you to gasp loudly, that you realised his hand had made its way between your legs again, teasing your clit with light touches causing you to tremble and try to raise your hips into his touch, though his own were stopping you from moving them. “Want something baby?” he all but purred against your ear. You nodded quickly, biting your lip to choke back a frustrated whimper. “Use your words. Oppa won’t know what you want if you don’t.”

“Please…,” you gasped out, trying to keep your voice quiet.

“Please what?” His finger ran the length of your folds, dipping in just enough to tease your entrance as it passed before rubbing your clit again. The taunting caused something in you to snap. Up until then, you had tried not to come right out and say that you wanted him, feeling almost as if you were under some kind of magic spell that would break if you said it. But now, you didn’t care. “Words, baby.”

“I need you.” Another nip at your neck, eliciting another moan.

“What do you need?”

“Please, Yoongi. Fuck me, touch me, anything, I don’t care, just do it.” You were rambling and you knew it, but it had the desired effect. Almost before you had finished speaking, two fingers were plunged roughly into you, Yoongi’s mouth covering yours to muffle the ecstatic moan as your walls clenched around them automatically. He immediately began thrusting them at a quick pace, allowing you no chance to get used to the feeling. Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you fought to stay quiet through the bliss he was giving you. He groaned harshly and pulled back, yanking his shirt over his head before his fingers were inside you again and he was moaning into your mouth as your nails finally dug into his skin. Suddenly a third finger joined the other two, stretching you wider as he curled them inside you, as if seeking something. After a few thrusts, he found it, sending a burst of pleasure through you as he changed the angle of his fingers to hit the same spot over and over. It felt too good and you reached down quickly, grabbing his wrist to stop him. He leaned back enough to look in your eyes, confused and almost hurt, but you weren’t ending it. “I want you inside me, Yoongi” you murmured softly, smiling at the look of surprise in his eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice suddenly shaking. It was your turn to frown, but you quickly smiled again, nodding.

“Positive. If you’re going to make me come, I don’t just want it to be your fingers.” He stared for a moment before a sudden, bright smile crossed his face and he kissed the tip of your nose before removing his hand from you and carefully licking it clean.

“Okay, next time though, it’s my tongue, because you taste too damn good,” he muttered, making a sound somewhere between a moan and a chuckle. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the comical change in manner from sex god to coarse best friend, and he grinned at you as he clambered off the bed and stripped his jeans and underwear off. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you down to lie flat on the bed, laughing at the squeal of surprise you gave before crawling onto the bed with a smirk. He pecked a small kiss on your core as he passed, and settled between your legs, his attitude changing yet again as he gazed at you adoringly. “You have to know I love you by now, Y/N,” he murmured, one hand gently brushing your hair back from your face as he rested his forehead against yours. You nodded slowly, eyes not leaving his. “D-do…,” he trailed off, as though afraid to ask what you knew he wanted to. Smiling, you reached a hand up, tracing the line of his jaw and letting it slip into his hair.

“If you’re trying to ask if I love you too, Mr Eloquent, the answer’s yes,” you teased with a giggle at the look of delight on his face. He all but attacked your lips, as if wanting to capture the words permanently. As he did so, you felt him slowly entering you, both of you moaning lowly at the feeling of being connected at last. He paused, breathing erratic as he got used to you around him.

“God, you feel so amazing, Y/N,” he whispered against your lips, a small whine escaping as he did so. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined what I want to do to you.” You chuckled softly and pecked a quick kiss to his lips, nipping at the lower before pulling back again.

“Then don’t. Just show me.” He raised an eyebrow, his expression turning mischievous.

“Are you sure you want me to do that, baby?” he asked, tone taunting. You nodded, and immediately his eyes darkened, his hips retreating slightly before slamming into you, muffling your desperate moans of pleasure with his lips as he quickly built up a rhythm that had you seeing stars. Your hips began to move of their own accord, bucking against him as you tried to push him deeper. His hands moved to your waist, holding you still as he began to thrust into you full force, angling himself to find the spot he had located earlier.

As if the change had hit a switch, you felt yourself quickly starting to climb towards your orgasm and buried your face against his neck to stifle the moans that had degraded into whimpers. He continued to drive into you, his own moans growing more desperate as he fought to keep as quiet as he could. One hand released your waist and he slipped it between you, his thumb assaulting the bundle of nerves there. It was more than you could take, and your nails dug into his shoulders as you screamed against his neck, what little remained of your senses praying that the sound was muffled enough to keep your parents from hearing the earth-shattering orgasm Yoongi was sending through you. The combination of the sensations of your nails and your clenching muscles and the knowledge that it was him that had caused you to scream in ecstasy was the final straw. With a final thrust, he began to shake, chanting your name like a mantra as he came, clinging to you desperately as though afraid you would vanish like a dream.

As he came down from his high, Yoongi slowly lowered himself to rest on your chest, his head nestled in the crook of your neck as his fingers traced the indentations of his nails on your hips. Brushing gentle kisses on your neck, careful to avoid anything that might be too much for you, he nuzzled against your skin.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I baby?” he murmured, resting one hand over the nail marks to indicate what he meant. You shook your head, wrapping your arms around him and drawing small circles on his arms with your fingertips.

“If you did, it was only the good kind,” you teased with a small giggle, feeling him grin against you. “If that’s what you’ve been imagining all this time, I wish you’d told me sooner.” There was silence for a moment before he burst out laughing, quickly covering his mouth to muffle the sound. He raised his head once he had calmed down, frowning a little.

“This wasn’t just a one time thing, was it?” he asked, concern etched in his features. You shook your head again, smiling warmly at him. His face brightened and he pecked a small kiss on your lips, nipping lightly at the bottom lip before pulling away to grin at you. “Good, because there’s a lot more I have to ‘tell’ you.”