#Being able to have the perfect songs come on when drawing him

[yoonguurt]

Summary: Christmas this, Christmas that. The “Most wonderful time of the year” is not how Y/N would describe it. Sure, it used to be a magical time full of happiness and love, but she let that belief go years ago. Christmas is all about how much money you spend on someone and making yourself look good to outsiders. Snow is wet and everything is cold during this time of year, makes everything gross. Her best friend is tired of having The Grinch as a roommate, especially when he remembers what it was like when she loved Christmas. This year, he finally decides that it’s time to bring the magic back into her life. Maybe that magic will bring a little love with it.

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Word Count:9,603

Genre/themes/au: fluff, smut, a tiny bit of angst; friends to lovers, roommates to lovers; it's a Christmas fic, yall.

Warnings: parental abandonment, masturbation(f), unprotected sex(NO! BAD!), fingering, oral (f rec), daddy kink (it just kind of happened ok), allusion to a hand kink but I didn't really act on it. I think that's it, but let me know if i missed something. My work is 18+ minors are not tolerated here. Be gone, child.

Walking through the front door, the sound of Christmas music and the blinking of festive lights hits your senses immediately. ‘God dammit, Chris. It's literally the 1st.’ You love having your best friend as a roommate, you really do, but his holiday spirit is not something you enjoy at this moment. 

When he goes all out for New Year's? All good. Valentine's Day? Fuck yeah, let's it chocolate. Halloween? Yes bitch, let's get spooky. But Christmas? It's a no from you. That's where you draw the line. 

His voice floats through your ears as he sings along to whatever annoying song is on. ‘At least it's not All I Want For Christmas is You.’ The beautiful tone of his soft singing almost brings you out of your grumpy mood. Almost. You love his voice, it does things to you. It makes you happy and relaxed. It also turns you on, but he doesn't need to know that. If it weren't for the fact that he's so into this damn holiday, everything would be perfect. 

“You're letting the heat out. And stop looking so mad, you knew this was coming.” His words draw you from your thoughts and you squint your eyes at him in a glare. By the bright smile on his face, he obviously doesn't care about your death stare. You toss your backpack aside, kicking your shoes off with a sigh. It’s been a long day of classes and assignments and you really just want to sit on the couch and watch true crime.

Chris has a pep in his step as he walks to the couch, throwing himself down on the cushions and opening his arms wide. He knows what you want, of course he knows. He tilts his head toward the spot beside him, a soft smile replacing the beaming one he had when you walked in. Your feet shuffle across the carpet as you make your way to him, promptly plopping down next to him and letting him wrap his arms around you.

Chris is your person. He may not have been in your life from the start, but the 2 years he has been has solidified his place for years to come. He's your best friend, sometimes you think he may even be your soulmate, but you don't have the courage to tell him just how deep in you are for him.

You met Chris in freshman year of college, having shared the first class of the semester together. You had taken the seat next to you, immediately giving you the beautiful smile he seems to almost always have. Now, you are in no way a shy person, not even close, but being the focus of his wide smile never fails to bring a blush to your cheeks. It's been like that since day one, you're just better at hiding it now. 

One class turned into three that semester and the two of you clicked immediately. He's a bit more outgoing than you are, but not by a whole lot. He just has an aura of comfort and it reeled you in and you haven't been able to get rid of him sense, not that you want to, anyway. You're down bad. 

At the beginning of sophomore year, the two of you opted for getting an apartment together rather than staying in the dorms. It just made more sense that way. You got to live off campus with your best friend, and you had someone to split the rent with. 

The sound of a movie beginning to play on the tv jolted you from your thoughts. Eyes flicking up to the screen, a groan immediately left your throat without much thought. A hand rubbing up and down your back reminded you of the comforting presence beside you. “A Christmas movie? Really, Chris?” You can feel his mood shift and you’re filled with a small amount of guilt. You know he loves Christmas, he loves holidays in general, but Christmas always puts him in a particular cheery mood. But he also knows how much you detest the holiday. But then again, he has always been willing to do things he hates just because it’s something you want to do. 

The weight of his arm disappears from your body and your head snaps up to face him. ‘Great. I’ve finally pushed him into anger.’ You know that he isn’t angry with you, but the little voice in your head can’t help but override your rationality. The two of you sit in silence for a while, both of you focusing on the images flickering across the tv screen. You’re not as much focusing on the movie as just having a place for your eyes to land. You can tell that Chris is in thought, he’s unusually quiet. There is a tension in the air, thick with guilt and worry. 

By the time the movie is, what you assume, half way through, Chris reaches forward to press the pause button on the remote. The scene stops in the middle of a conversation and the looks on the characters’ faces brings a small snort from your nose. It’s always been a game between the two of you. Someone pauses a movie or show randomly, trying to find the best funny face someone on screen is making. You turn to the man beside you, ready to talk about the game, only to see how serious his face is. 

“I’m not going to ask why you hate Christmas so much, I already know that.” The mention of the reason for your Grinch-like attitude makes you wince, though you try to hide it. That obviously doesn’t work because a warm hand finds its way back around your shoulders, giving a squeeze of reassurance. “But I am going to ask that you do me a favor.” Your heart races at his words. You give him a nod, letting him know that you’re listening. “Give me until Christmas Eve to change your opinion.”

That is not what you were expecting. You thought he’d ask you to keep your holly jolly hating thoughts to yourself. You had no idea how he even thought he could change your mind. Hating Christmas had been a part of you since before you met Chris. It wasn’t your whole personality, that would be awful, but it was well known amongst your friends that you and Christmas didn’t get along. Chris was one of the only people in your friend group that knew the exact reason. You love your friends and as much as you trust them, you don’t want to deal with the looks. You had worried about that when you told Chris, but he hadn’t looked at you like other people would have. Of course he hadn’t. He was Chris. He was perfect.

“What do you mean?” You mentally rolled your eyes at yourself, it felt like a dumb question. Your best friend’s gaze held no anger, and didn't make you feel stupid for asking. He just gave you a soft smile, his hand coming to push your hair behind your ear. “Give me 23 days to make Christmas a happy time for you again. Three weeks. We’ll do two small things a week, and one big thing on the weekend. Today is Friday, so the first big activity can be tomorrow. There are two more weekends between now and Christmas Eve. The last big thing will be on Christmas Eve. If your thoughts on the holiday aren’t changed by midnight on Christmas Day, I’ll tone down the holiday cheer next year. Deal?”

“Alright.” You can see that he senses the hesitancy in your voice, but he doesn't say anything. Just reaches his hand out towards you, waiting for you to take it in a handshake. ‘This is certainly going to be interesting.’ You have no idea what he could possibly have planned, but you're curious.

You slept in the next morning, which felt amazing. You honestly expected Chris to wake you up early for his big adventure, but you were damn glad he didn't. Taking your time in getting up, you finally crawl out of bed to brush your teeth before emerging from your room. Your first stop would be the kitchen, you need coffee. As soon as you hit the end of the hallway, a mug sat on the counter, still steaming. You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips at the sight. 

Chris had made a habit of setting your coffee out for you before he went to the gym. It was a small thing, but it always made your heart skip. Now that he wasn't home, you could let yourself stew in your feelings. You aren't sure when your feelings for him had changed, you just knew that they had.

Maybe it was last month when he had stayed up all night taking care of you when you had the flu. Maybe it was last year when your boyfriend had broken up with you and he had made a blanket fort in the living room and watched Disney movies with you. Perhaps it was a month after starting school and you had to miss a week of class, only to come back to a set of notes he had taken for you. You couldn't be certain.

You bumble around the apartment, looking for things to do. You had to admit, even though you hate Christmas and anything to do with it, you were excited to see what Chris had planned. You doubted he could actually change your mind, but it was better to not tell him that.

Thinking back to your life before Chris, your thoughts landed on the reason you hate this goddamn holiday. Your father. Waking up on Christmas morning only to find him nowhere in sight and your mother in shambles. You were sixteen. He had left a note explaining that he had found a new life, one that didn't include you or your mother. Prick. That had solidified your hatred. You struggled to pick up the pieces of your mother’s broken heart, and after a while you had succeeded, but there was still a void.

She had eventually remarried once you had gone off to school, and while she was happy with the way her life turned out, you were still angry. Still hurt. Still hated Christmas. You love your stepfather dearly, but the memory of that shitty Christmas morning still reigns supreme. 

The jingling of keys brought you out of your angry thoughts. The door opened and there was your best friend, the object of your unknown affections. He was still sweaty from his intense workout. ‘Fuck. He really is going to give me a heart attack one of these days.’ Your stomach was doing flips. He looked so good. Biting your lip, you admire him for a moment longer before calling out to him.

“Thanks for the coffee.” He turns to you, eyes wide, obviously startled. You suppress a giggle, knowing it would only make him pout at your amusement. “No need for thanks, pretty girl.” There goes your stomach again, your heart joining its waltz of emotion. Pet names aren't a new thing for him, it's something he's done for months now, but it still affects like it had the very first time. 

“So, what's the big activity you have planned?” You watch as he kicks off his shoes, making sure to place them neatly on the shoe rack you keep next to the door. He tsks at you as he makes his way to stand in front of you. “Nope. Not a chance. It's a surprise.” An immediate pout comes across your face, causing a loud laugh from the man in front of you. Your pout only deepens. Before you realize what is happening, Chris reaches forward, squishing your cheeks in his hand and leaning closer. “No pouting. I'm gonna shower and we can go.” He lets go of your face and leans back, smirking a bit as he turns and walks down the hall. “Make sure to wear something warm!” His loud voice rings out through the apartment, and you sigh, getting up to go get dressed.

This is not what you expected. To be fair, you don't really know what you expected, but an ice skating rink wasn't it. Chris must be able to see the confusion on your face, because he laughs and reaches for your hand. “Ice skating is an important part of the holiday season.” This is news to you. 

His hand doesn't leave yours as he pulls you towards the small building that houses the skate rentals. After a moment of waiting in line, you step up to the counter, pulling your wallet out to pay. “The hell do you think you're doing?” Chris has a serious face as he looks at you with furrowed brows. “Paying?” You didn't mean for your words to come out as a question. He shakes his head adamantly, gently pushing your arm back. ‘Should have known. Always has to pay.’ Every time he does this, your mind briefly wonders if you're on a date, but you always shake that thought away. 

Stepping onto the ice is always a little scary. It's not like you've never gone ice skating, but you always feel a bit rusty after not going for a while. You watch as Chris glides around the rink once before making his way back to you. He's so graceful as he skates. It's like there's nothing he can't do. His arms reach out towards you as he comes closer, beckoning you to start moving in his direction. 

Both of his hands clasp yours, pulling you into his chest. Despite the temperature, he's warm. He's always so damn warm. You pull your head back to look up at him, his eyes already focused on you. Getting lost in his eyes is so easy. It's like second nature. Your gazes stay locked for what feels like forever before you break the contact first, both visually and physically. 

As you shuffle backwards on your skates, you notice Chris drop his arms to his side. You're looking at your feet so you don't notice the disappointment that crosses his face. You turn, slowly skating off, trying to get the hang of it again. 

Chris joins you only a second later, giving you a slight nudge. “Wanna race?” He's wearing his signature smile, an eyebrow cocked. This is a bad idea. You know this is a bad idea. That doesn't stop you at all. “You're on!” You're moving forward before you finish the sentence.

“Are you ok?” Uninjured, yes. Mortified, also yes. Chris helps you off of the ice as you nod. You got too confident. He had been closing in on you almost immediately. Then, a child moved into your path. Down on your ass you went. “Need to step off the ice for a minute?” You give him an affirmative, you just need a little bit of a breather. 

The two of you step off the ice, not even bothering to take your skates off, you don't plan to be off the ice long. Chris walks you to a bench, making sure you're sat and comfortable before he walks away. He doesn't speak before he leaves, leaving you confused. You watch his back as the distance between you greatens, watching him stop and a tiny stand at the edge of the area.

He comes back with two cups in his hands, handing one to you. “Hot chocolate?” He nods, giving you a big smile, and the butterflies fly away again. “Figured it'd help warm you up, since, y’know, you ate shit and now your ass is cold.” His tone is teasing and a smirk plays on his lips. You give him a playful shove, telling him to shut up and his laughter fills the air. “Gonna need a massage?” His eyebrows wiggle and you almost spit the drink out. Once you finish your drink, he grabs your hand again, leading you back to the ice. The next two hours are filled with laughter and teasing as you skate hand in hand. 

You dream of ice skating with Chris. The holiday spirit creeps at the edge of your soul.

It's four days later that you come home to notice things are different. The tree is gone. You have a brief moment of giddiness, immediately feeling bad. You told yourself that you're going to try. It isn't fair to Chris if he goes through all of this trouble for you to refuse to try.

“Chris? Are you home?” You hear shuffling coming from the back half of the apartment. The Adonis of a man comes from his room, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, pulling a black muscle shirt over his head. You can see the ridges that adore his chest and stomach. It makes your mouth dry and your panties wet.

“Great, you're home. It's time for the first small activity.” You look around, trying to figure out what he has planned. It takes a bit, but you finally notice the Christmas tree messing put on top, not in, it's box. Your eyes flicking to your best friend, raising an eyebrow in question. 

“Yepp. First up, we put the tree up and decorate it together.” You suppress a sigh. This used to be one of your favorite things to do for Christmas, second only to baking cookies. You give him a small smile and a nod and the way his face lights up makes every grievance you have about doing this fly out of the window. 

Chris sets the tree up while you sort the decorations and untangle the lights. He had tangled them back up so you could get the “full experience.” Admittedly, that made you the tiniest bit happy. Just that he had thought of everything, even something as small as untangling lights. After he has the tree in its place, he steps away and grabs his phone, turning it to the radio station for the college. You give him a side eye and he laughs. “I may be off today, but I still support my team.”  The radio station is Chris’ baby. He’s always loved music, he says it has helped him through his darkest times. 

Of course Jisung is playing Christmas music right now, you suspect Chris had something to do with that since it isn’t a normal occurrence this early in the month. Footsteps coming your way clue you in that he has decided to make his way over to where you are. His arms come around you from behind, giving you a soft squeeze. He breathes a soft laugh into your ear as he watches you fight the strand of lights. “Here, let me help.” He rests his chin on your shoulder, his nimble fingers making quick work of the knots. You can’t help but focus on the way his hands move, god you want them inside of you.

The next hour or so is spent making sure every ornament is in the perfect place, not too close together, but not too far apart. The music, which has since switched from Christmas tunes, plays softly in the background. Every now and then, Jisung’s voice cuts through the speaker, usually to make some sort of joke or answer a question that was sent in. You’re distracted with making sure the tree is perfect that you don’t notice the way your roommate stands off to the side, watching you intently, a smile on his face and his eyes twinkling.

The rest of your week drags on. Your thoughts are muddled and all over the place. You’ve been happier than you normally are this time of year, and you know Chris’ plan is working. You can’t tell if it’s because of doing the activities you haven’t done in years, or if it’s because you're doing them with him. You think it may be the latter, though. Friday finally rolls around and after classes and your shift at the campus bookstore, you’re absolutely beat. You trudge through your front door, set on getting a shower and going to bed. 

Chris should still be at the radio station, he tends to work later on Fridays. It occurs to you that some self care may be in order, you could definitely use a good orgasm to make you feel better. With your mind made up, you grab your pajamas and your waterproof vibrator, quickly making your way to the bathroom. 

The steam from the hot water fills the room and it instantly makes you relax just a little. Your shoulders are loosening up more every second you spend undressing. The stream of water hits your skin and an involuntary sigh escapes your lips. You stand under the falling water for a few moments, letting the warmth seep into your skin. Almost absent mindedly, you reach for your vibrator, clicking it to the lowest setting.You run your free hand down your body, stopping at your breast to fondle and pinch your nipple. You let a soft gasp and you bring the toy to your clit, just barely grazing it, teasing yourself. 

The more tension that escapes you, the more you indulge yourself. You replace your vibrator with the shower head, the pressure hitting just the right spot. You slide the toy through your folds, down to your entrance, sliding it into your pussy slowly. The sound you make is louder this time, and you aren’t worried about the noise. It’s just you in the apartment and you need this. You fuck yourself faster, making sure to keep the pressure on your clit as you change the angle of your hand so the tip of the vibrator hits your sweet spot. 

Your orgasm is approaching faster than you thought it would, but you’re absolutely fine with it. Clicking the vibration setting up one notch, you throw your head back against the tile of the shower wall. You release a drawn out moan, your hips bucking slightly into the toy, chasing your high. Right as the dam is about to break, you click the setting button to the highest setting. You crash head first into your orgasm. Whimpers and whines fall from your mouth as you ride out your high, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning out your best friend’s name.

The next day comes earlier than you thought it would, mostly because you’re woken up to a loud voice. “Good morning, pretty girl! Rise and shine.” ‘Choke, you happy bastard.’ You feel bad for your immediate thought, but as you roll over and take a look at your clock, you feel slightly less bad. “Christopher. It is 8am. What the actual fuck?” The only response you get is a smile and the feeling of blankets being ripped off of you. You fix your gaze on him, giving him the harshest death glare you can manage at this time of day, which doesn’t appear to bother him a bit. “Up, woman. We have things to do. If I don’t hear the sink running in 5 minutes, I’m dragging you out of bed myself.” ‘This is going to be a long fucking day.’ 

Your hands are on the handle of the shopping cart while Chris holds on to the basket. He directs the cart himself, you’re essentially just there for appearances, you guess. He stopped to get you a coffee, a peace offering, which you had accepted. But that doesn’t mean your mood has drastically improved. He looks great, he always does, but today he’s glowing more than usual. ‘Stupid, beautiful, perfect man. How are you this chipper this early? You barely sleep.’ 

You watch as he grabs drinks and snacks, still having no idea what is going on. He had refused to tell you anything on the drive to the supermarket, didn’t want to”ruin the holiday spirit surprise”, whatever that means. Once he deems there are enough items in the cart, he directs the two of you to the checkout counter. You don’t even bother pulling out your wallet, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. Chris pays, oblivious to the way the cashier is making googly eyes at him. 

After loading everything into the car, he opens the door for you, giving you a peck on the forehead. That causes you to duck your head to hide the blush that forms across your cheeks. You watch as he jogs around to the trunk, opening it and digging around for a second before he closes it and makes his way to the driver’s door. He turns to you as he’s buckling his belt, his voice soft. “Take yourself a nap, pretty. We have a bit of a drive ahead of us.” You give him a look, one which he ignores. ‘Where the hell is this crazy man taking me?’ You doze off before you can even think of a possible answer.

“Y/n. Wake up. We’re here.” The gentle swaying of your body coaxes you awake, your eyes automatically squinting to avoid the sun. Chris is already out of the car, already holding your door open. He takes your hand and helps you out of the car, pausing to let you stretch. He silently takes your hand, tugging gently, urging you to follow him. Your nose meets his back as he stops suddenly. You let out a tiny huff, rubbing your nose while he apologizes. “I’m sorry! I just forgot something!” He takes your hands away from your face to inspect you, making sure your nose isn’t bleeding, and presses a soft kiss to the tip. “Can you close your eyes for me? Please?” You do as he says without hesitation. “Good girl.” You shiver.

When you finally come to a stop, you guess that you must be inside somewhere. You can’t feel the sun on your skin, and the temperature has dropped slightly. You hear him shuffling around and as much as you want to see what’s going on, you keep your eyes closed. When he finally comes back to you, he grabs both of your hands and pulls you a little further forward. He drops your hands, and you feel him behind you, wrapping you up in his warmth. “Open.” You slowly lift your eyelids, both confused and in awe by what you see.

You’re in a barn, a blanket thrown across the ground. Pillows lay on the blanket, surrounded by the snacks and drinks you had gotten at the store. Everything is facing a wall, where a large projector screen hangs, the title screen for A Christmas Story paused on the screen. You hate cheesy Christmas movies, even when you liked Christmas. A Christmas Story is different, you could watch it all year round. Tears prick the corner of your eyes. No one has ever gone through such great lengths for you. “Chris…” Your voice breaks off and your best friend pulls you back into his chest and sets his chin on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s lay down. I brought an extra blanket to cover up with. I know how easily you get cold. There’s also more pillows in case the ground gets too hard.” You quickly spin around in his arms, latching your hands around his shoulders in a tight hug. “Thank you.” You feel him place a soft kiss on your hair. 

Feeling happy and content, you press play.

“What has you in such a good mood?” You direct your attention to Hyunjin. He’s looking at you like you’re some sort of impostor. “What do you mean? I’m just in a good mood.” He scrunches his face like he’s just smelled something awful. “Y/n, it’s December. Today marks exactly two weeks until Christmas. In the two years I have known you, you have never just been in a good mood for no reason this close to Christmas.” 

He’s right. You know that he’s right. You aren’t usually in an outright bad mood, but you certainly aren’t in a good mood for no reason. “Maybe I’m just having a good day.’ Your words come out in a mumble, you know they don’t sound convincing. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Aussie, would it?” You knew you shouldn’t have told Hyunjin about your feelings for Chris. In your defense, you didn’t tell him. He just seemed to read your mind and then you couldn’t deny it.

“Shut up.” You’re grumbling now, not liking that you’ve been so easily read. You can see the smug grin on Hyunjin’s face. He knows he’s hit the nail on the head and you just want to smack him. “We made a deal. He’s trying to get me over the Christmas hate. I’m not saying it’s working,” It is. “I’ve just been having alot of fun. You watch your friend’s eyes widen before the cocky smile is back on his face. “You guys are so gonna fuck.” That one finally earns him the smack.

 It’s Thursday by the time you realize you haven’t had your small adventure this week, and you're surprised how sad you are about it. You’ve been pouting for two days because there has been no holiday fun. That thought alone makes you want to vomit. You definitely did not expect this. You? Wanting to do Christmasy stuff? Yuck. 

The bookstore is quiet, which isn’t unusual, but it gives your thoughts too much power. Is it time to let go? You assume it is, but you aren’t sure if you’re fully ready. It sounds dumb, but if you stay angry, you focus on that instead of the hurt. It’s starting to fade, though. Finally. You’ve thought for years that if you just pretended that Christmas didn’t exist, you’d move on. But, you guess you were going about it the wrong way. Maybe you do need to embrace the season. 

The bell above the door rings, signaling that someone has entered the store. You face the door, seeing your best friend walking in, stomping the snow off of his shoes. You give him a wave, a bright smile on your face, getting larger the closer he gets to you. “You don’t have much longer, right?” You shake your head, tilting it slightly to the side. He reads you like a book. “It’s time for our second mini adventure.” Your heart feels lighter.

There’s flour everywhere. It’s in your hair, it’s in his hair, it’s on the ceiling. The kitchen is a mess.

As soon as you had gotten home, Chris led you to the kitchen, where an array of cookie cutters were laid out on the counter. You didn’t even try to hide your smile. “Welcome to Bang’s Bakery.” You let out a snort at his customer service voice, his giggle filling the air around you. “We got snowmen, gingerbread men, Santa. You name it, we got it.” You immediately drift toward the metal shaped like a snowman, while Chris grabs the Santa cutter. 

The first batch of cookies turned out…not the greatest. You had gotten lost in a dance party, letting them stay in the oven for too long. The second batch was better, but had almost zero flavor. The third batch is where things took a turn. 

You had spilled the flour while trying to pour it into a measuring cup, a cloud coming from the plop it made on the counter. Chris let out a howl of laughter as he noticed your face covered in the remnants of the cloud. This just wouldn’t stand. No way. You hadn’t even taken a millisecond to think before reaching into the bag. A puff of flour hit Chris directly in the face. That shut him up. Briefly. He recovered quickly, a sly smile coming to his face. ‘Oh god, what have I done?’ 

He was on you before you knew it, fighting you for the bag of flour. There was no way you were going down without a full fight. You had snatched your arms back, turning to make a run for it. The flour stuck again. There was a white patch on the floor, which had somehow gotten mixed with some form of liquid. Your feet slid out from under you, causing you to hit the floor. The bag flew into the air, turned upside down and covered both you and Chris. 

He slid to the floor beside you, both of you in hysterics. Your sides were hurting from laughing so hard. “Y’ok?” His question came out in between him trying to catch his breath. You couldn’t even answer, too lost in the joy you’re feeling. He goes silent all of a sudden, his hands coming to cup your face to get your attention. You stare at each other, neither of you speaking. His eyes dart between yours and your lips. Just as you both lean in, his phone rings, You jump apart as he gets up to answer. “Bin needs me at the station. I’m gonna shower and head out.” You give him a stiff nod and he turns to walk down the hallway.

The weekend brings rain. Rain brings this weekend’s activity inside. Chris won’t tell you what he had originally planned, all he told you was that he had to make due with what he had. That explained absolutely nothing. 

A Christmas movie marathon. That was the backup plan. There was a slight disagreement on whether or not Die Hard is a Christmas movie, ‘it is’, but Chris disagrees. ‘He’s wrong.’ After that minor setback, the marathon is in full swing. The two of you are cuddled up under a blanket and you each have a mug of hot chocolate while Home Alone plays on the screen. Neither of you have brought up what happened after the flour fight, you aren’t even sure how you approach the subject. 

You somehow move from cuddling side by side to you laying on his chest. You aren’t complaining, it feels right. It feels like this is where you are supposed to be. Your eyes start to get heavy when Chris starts to play with your hair. Your nose is filled with his cologne and your heart is full of love.

Time seems to both speed up and slow down the closer you get to Christmas. Four days. That’s all you have left. It feels good to not be dreading the day. You feel more light and carefree than you have in years. Chris had texted you earlier today, giving you strict instructions.

Cutie with a booty: lay a sheet down on the living room floor and make sure to wear comfy clothes that aren’t super important to you. No, I won’t tell you what we’re doing. Don't even ask.

So here you were, sitting on the floor in an old shirt from highschool and some ripped sweats you’ve been meaning to throw away, waiting for Chris to get home. Just as you’re about to call and ask where he is, you hear a key enter the lock. Chris comes in with shopping bags full of stuff, though you can’t tell what it is. “I hope you have your crafty cap on!” You look at him like he just spoke gibberish.”My fucking what?” The man snorts so hard that he almost drops the bags. 

He sets all of the bags down on the sheet, plopping himself down afterwards. He reaches over, grabbing the bags and dumping the contents onto the sheet. Glue stick, cotton balls, glitter. All kinds of arts and crafts supplies, along with two plain red stockings. “We’re decorating stockings for each other. And no, you can not draw a penis on my stocking.” ‘Damn, He got me.’ You’re immediately hit with what you want to put on his stocking, confident that he’ll love it. 

The two of you work in silence, both concentrated on your art. Chris is using a lot of glitter and  a lot of black marker and you honestly have no idea what he could be doing. Looking down at your creation, you cringe slightly. You are in no way an artist, but you’re hoping he’ll at least be able to tell what your vision is. You grab your phone, needing a reference picture. Chris looks at you briefly, a disapproving look on his face.  “Calm down, I just need a reference picture.” His look changes to confused, but you just wave him off.

An hour later, both stockings are ready and hiding behind your backs. “I'll go first. This is about you enjoying Christmas, after all.” He reaches behind him, the stocking in his hands when they come back to the front of his body. He hands you the fabric and you observe it. Your name is written across the top in purple glitter, a heart on each side. In the center sits two penguins. They're facing each other, holding each other’s flippers. In between them is a pebble. You want to cry. You do cry.

“Chris. It's perfect.” He scoots toward you, his thumb coming to wipe away your tears. “Aww don't cry.” You let him know that it's a cry of happiness as you pull yourself together. It's your turn now and you turn slightly grabbing your gift. You extend your arms, watching him take in what you've made.

LIke him, you’ve written something across the top, but it isn’t his name. ‘RooBoo’ is written in blue glitter, with pink layering over the top. You’ve used the gold glitter to attempt to draw a kangaroo, though it doesn’t really look like one. Same goes for the koala. In between the two animals, the shape of Australia is drawn and shimmering in green and gold. You bite your lip anxiously, waiting for his reaction. Nothing happens. He just stares. You start to worry that he doesn’t understand what it’s supposed to be, or worse, doesn’t like it. 

All at once, he surges forward. He buries his face in your neck and wraps his arms around your waist. He just stays like that, not moving, not saying anything. You bring your arms around him, rubbing his back. You can feel moisture on your neck and it’s only then that you notice his soft shudders. “Chris?” You try to pull back to get a look at him, but he tightens his grip so you can’t go anywhere. “You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you so fucking much.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but you hear him anyway. You place a kiss on his forehead and you two stay that way for a while longer.

Christmas Eve. The last day of your little deal, you’re beyond ready to admit to Chris that he had won during week two, but you want to see what his final surprise is. Knowing him, he’s going all out for this one. He’s out all day, and you’re pacing around waiting for his return. Around 6:30pm, you get a call. It’s short and to the point. “Be ready in an hour, dress cute but warm. I won’t be home until it’s time to pick you up. See you then, pretty girl.” He doesn’t even give you a chance to answer, he just hangs up. How dare he only give you an hour, you have to shower, do your hair, pick an outfit, there’s no way you can do all of that in an hour. 

You manage to do it in 50 minutes, which you are very proud of by the way. Your hair is down, nothing fancy, but you know that Chris likes it like this. Your outfit is simple, a red and striped sweater, jeans and a coat. It may not look like the warmest choice, but you know you’ll be warm enough. There’s a knock on the door, which you find odd. Opening the door slowly, a mess of brown curly hair comes into view. Chris stands at your shared door, a bouquet in his hand. His hair is in its natural state, your absolute favorite look on him. He’s absolutely breathtaking. All you can do is stare. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?” ‘Oh. Oh, that’s a new one.” Your heart beats in triple time, your stomach is a roller coaster. A nod is literally all you can manage. Your brain is telling your feet to move, your feet are not listening. 

You finally will yourself to move, with much help from Chris since he took you by your hand after putting the flowers in a vase with water. The elevator ride is tense, but not in a bad way. You want to latch yourself to his side and never leave. And like he tends to do, he somehow reads your mind, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your forehead, this one lingering a little longer than usual. When the doors open, he doesn’t remove his arm from your shoulder as he takes a step. Through the glass door of the lobby, you can see snow lightly falling. It’s beautiful.

A slight breeze hits your face as you step outside. You swivel your head, looking for Chris’ car. “We’re not driving anywhere, pretty.” You look at him, confusion written on your face, causing him to giggle and tip his head toward the park not far from your apartment building. ‘Oh! A walk in the park!’ You smile at the thought of just walking hand in hand around the park in the snow. Though, you’re just happy to spend Christmas Eve with your best friend. A small pang of hurt rushes through you at the thought that he is still only your best friend. Maybe you’ll finally confess at midnight.

Just outside the entrance to the park, there is a horse drawn sleigh. There are people circling around it, and as much as you want to pet the horse, you don’t want to fight your way through a crowd. Chris seems to have a different idea, though. He pulls you directly to the sleigh, letting go of your hand long enough to tell the driver his name and show the man his ID. He takes your hand again, leading you to the side of the sleigh. “After you.” You stand there gawking at him for a moment, his smile never faltering. He helps you into the sleigh, lifting the blanket that’s placed on the seat so the two of you can slide under it. 

The view of the park tonight is unlike anything you have ever seen. There are Christmas lights strung up through the trees. Soft instrumental versions of Christmas songs play through the speakers placed around. There are families playing in the snow, lovers dancing around the lake. The whole park is a magical place. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” His voice draws your attention to him, making eye contact. “Chris, this is amazing. Everything is so beautiful. How did you do this?” His smile widens at your words. “I cheated a little. There was an ad at the radio station. We were supposed to be the first to announce it. I called and booked the first ride before I read the ad.” Your laughter is the loudest sound in the park, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Of course he used the station. 

He slings his arm around you when your head lands on his shoulder and brings you closer to him. You’re close to sitting in his lap at this point. “Chris.” “Y/n.” You speak at the same time and you both giggle. You playfully argue over who should go first, and Chris finally takes the spotlight. 

“I said that I was spending this month trying to get you to like Christmas again, and I meant that. But that was a minor part of everything I’ve done. I wanted you to know what it’s like to be loved, genuinely loved, on Christmas. I know this time of year is hard for you, and understandably so, but I want you to know that you have someone who is here for you. You have someone who will never leave. You have someone that loves you more than words could ever explain. I love you, Y/n. I just wanted you to feel that love.”

You have no words. You have tears, but no words. You have tears, no words, and your lips on his.

You feel like you're floating. Are your feet on the ground? You don’t know. You can feel your hand in his, but you can’t feel your feet. And you aren’t bothered by it. Because you can feel his lips on yours. You walk through the doorway of your shared apartment, giving each other sweet kisses. It’s only when you’re fully inside with the door closed that the kisses deepen. Chris cups your face with both of his hands, one sliding up to run through your hair. You’re already in bliss. He pulls back slightly, his breath fanning across your lips. “Tell me how you want this to go, baby. We can stop here and have dinner, or we can go to my room.” You have never uttered a sentence out faster. “Your room, please. I think we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”

Before you realize what’s happening, he swoops you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style to his room, pressing his lips to yours the entire way. He doesn’t even bother closing the bedroom door behind himself, immediately moving to place you gently on his bed. You scoot yourself further up, beckoning him closer. He slowly crawls onto the bed to hover over you, his right handing coming back to your face as he leans down to kiss you again. His left hand makes a home on your hip, rubbing slow, soft circles with his thumb. There is no urgency in your shared kisses, only the need to be close and show each other the love that you feel.

You kiss until both of your lips are swollen and red and Chris finally pulls back, just to admire you. “You are beyond beautiful. I love you so much.” His words are quiet, like he’ll break the magic moment if he speaks any louder.

 “I realize I haven’t told you how I feel yet.” You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to spill your feelings. “You are the kindest, most genuine person I have ever met. You go out of your way to make sure that everyone you care about is taken care of, even if that means not taking care of yourself.” You pause briefly, giving him a look. “We’ll talk about taking better care of you later.” He giggles as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “When we met, I had no idea how important you would become to me, and now that I know, I never want to not have you here. And I’m not worried that I’ll have to deal with that. You have given me more hope and love than I ever thought possible and I am so fucking in love with you.”

The kiss you receive in response is softer than the others and you aren’t sure how that is possible. You can feel every ounce of care this man holds for you in the barely there kiss. It makes your head spin. Slowly, his lips travel from yours down to your neck, sucking softly at the skin. You arch into him, gasping at how good it feels just to have his lips on you. His kisses travel lower, stopping at the edge of your sweater. “Can I take this off of you, babygirl?” You clench around nothing at the pet name, and of course Chris notices. He notices everything about you. 

You give him a nod and his hands slowly pull the sweater over your head, his eyes locked on yours as he removes it completely. Out of instinct, your hands move to cover yourself, but he grabs them before they make contact with your breasts. “Please don’t hide from me, my love. I want to see all of you. You’re so pretty.” Something churns inside of you at his compliments and you will yourself to keep your arms down. He trails his eyes down your chest, zeroing in on the fabric of your bra. He lifts his eyes back to yours, a silent question swirling in his brown irises. You give him a firm nod, not wanting him to sense any hesitation. You have no hesitation.

You reach around and unclasp your bra, bringing the straps down your shoulder until the garment falls onto your lap. “Fuck.” His voice is strained and you can hear the lust in his tone. But you can also hear the love. His hands rise to your chest, thumbs flicking over your nipples slowly. You let out a soft moan, biting your lip. His touch doesn’t linger for long, moving down to the top of your jeans. “Do you still want to keep going, baby? We don’t have to.” You love how he checks in with you before doing anything, it makes you feel so comfortable, like your comfort is more important than his desire. And you know that that is exactly how he feels.

“Chris, please.” The whine in your voice seems to do something to him because he groans as he begins to unbutton your jeans. While his hands are occupied removing you from the confines of your clothes, his lips press against your stomach. He takes his time with you and even though you’re soaked at this point, you don’t dare try to rush him. You can tell that he wants to worship you, and you intend to let him. His lips touch every new piece of skin that is revealed, not wanting to leave any part of you untouched. He leans back to take in the view of you. Your hair is slightly messy from his hands running through it. Your cheeks are flushed as you lay there in only your panties. You buck your hips up at him once and his hands immediately move to take the ruined fabric off. 

Once you’re bare beneath him, you gain a little confidence, spreading your legs so he can see your core. He outright moans at the sight. You can see his cock straining against his jeans, it’s big, that much you can tell. Your hole clenches at the thought of taking him, and again he takes notice. “What dirty thoughts are you thinking to have you clenching like that, babygirl?” The name makes you clench again and he smirks. “Oh? Y’like that do you? Like when I call you babygirl?” You spread your legs further apart as give him a nod, another groan coming from the gorgeous man in front of you.

“Yes, Daddy.” You stiffen. You have no idea where that came from. Never have you called a man daddy in bed, but for some reason, it felt so right that it just slipped out. Chris growls at that and you know you’ve found a weak spot for him. “Look at my pretty baby, all wet for me. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you, babygirl.” He lowers himself to the floor, grabbing at your ankles and slowly pulling your core toward his face. “Still good, baby?” Another nod from you and he presses a kiss to your clit. The contact has you arching into him, your obvious pleasure making his tongue dart out of his mouth to taste you. 

You try to keep your moans down as he devours you. You have a hand in his hair, not pulling, simply running your fingers through it. He alternates between circling your clit with his tongue and slipping the muscle inside of you, ending the pattern with a suck to your clit. The pleasure is overwhelming. It’s too much and it’s not enough. Your moans increase slightly in volume, until Chris stops his lovely attack on your pussy.

“Let me hear you, baby. I know you can do better than that. I heard you in the shower, you sounded so fucking beautiful. The best song I’ve ever heard.” You know you should be embarrassed, but you aren’t. His words only cause a new wave of arousal and a loud moan to escape you. “That’s it. There’s my good girl.” Another clench. Chris chooses this moment to slide a finger into you, curving it instantly, looking for the soft spot inside of you. He knows he’s found it when you buck your hips up and groan and he moves his face back down to lick at you more.

The combination of his tongue and fingers turn out to be deadly. You’re rapidly approaching your high. “Chris, please. I’m so close.” He picks up the pace of his fingers, pressing into your sweet spot on every thrust. Your moans flow out of you now, even if you wanted to stop them, you wouldn’t be able to. “There we go. Come on, babygirl. You can do it. Cum for me, cum for Daddy.” Your vision blurs, stars explode from your peripherals. Chris helps you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling his fingers from you. “Can you open up for me, sweetheart?” Your mouth opens without you having to tell it to, and his fingers find their way onto your tongue. “Suck. See how good you taste.” You obey him without pause, moaning at the taste of yourself on his fingers.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, moving them down to the button of his jeans, while the other hand reaches towards the nightstand for a condom. You reach out and grab his wrist, shaking your head. “Wanna feel you. All of you.” You can see his eyes glaze over with lust, but he still asks if you’re sure. You nod, you don’t think you’ve ever been so sure of something in your life. He moves with a little more haste as he kicks his pants off. “Holy shit.” You didn’t mean to say the words out loud, but one look at his cock has your mouth watering, but it also has you wondering if it’s going to fit. He has one hand slowly stroking himself, moving closer to your cunt, sliding himself through your folds. “Relax for me, love. All you have to do is relax and let me in.”

He pushes into you slowly, a deep, drawn out groan coming from his throat. A high pitched whine leaves you at the same time, a harmony of pleasure. Once he’s fully sheathed inside of you, he pauses, not moving. “Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. Fit me perfectly. Cunt was made for daddy’s cock, huh?” All you can do is nod and whine, and bring your legs to wrap around his waist. You manage to buck your hips slightly, trying to get him to move. He pulls his hips back slowly, pulling out until only the tip of his cock is resting inside of you. He shoves his cock back into you all at once, not too roughly, but making sure to hit deep. 

Your body moves into a deep arch at his thrusts, all hitting the spongy part inside of you perfectly. You’re already working your way to another orgasm. “Feel so good, baby. So glad I get to have you like this. Love you so much.” His thrusts start to speed up and you can tell that he’s holding himself back, wanting you to finish one more time before he lets himself go. “I’m close, sweet girl. Think you can come for me one more time? Come with me this time?” Tears are pricking the edges of your eyes and you quickly nod. “So close. So close, Love you. So close.” Your words come out jumbled, but you think Chris understands. He speeds up a little more, the both of you moaning in time with each other. Chris leans down so his mouth is right next to your ear. “Now, baby. Come now. I love you. You can do it.” You cum with a cry of his name, your pussy clamping down on his cock sends him into his own orgasm, groaning as he fills you.

You’re both panting by the time you come down. Chris slowly pulls out slowly, watching his seed dribble out of your spent hole. His hand twitches like he wants to push it back inside of you, but he doesn’t. He turns and leaves, you can hear the faucet running in the bathroom. He comes back with a warm cloth, carefully cleaning you up and adding a kiss to your forehead. He helps you up, walking with you to the bathroom so you can pee. When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s standing by the door with a bottle of water. He really is perfect.

Once you get back to his room, he gives you a shirt of his to wear to bed. “Need me to go get underwear from your room?” His thoughtfulness makes you smile. “Nah. Don’t need ‘em.” He smirks at that, knowing that you mean that this will lead to morning sex and he’s all for it. He joins you on his bed again, pulling you into his arms. “So, it’s midnight. How are you feeling about Christmas?” You’re silent for a moment, thinking of what you want to say. Pulling back to look at him, you smile.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

[blossomthepinkbunny]

Charlie as an underdeveloped character

One thing I was genuinely dissapointed by when watching Hazbin Hotel was that they never cared to dive into Charlie's Morality more.

I feel like a lot of people can agree that Charlie felt very flat/sidelined in a show she was supposed to be the main character of and I think that that's because they ran out of Character Moments for her. Her Backstory is pretty much just infodumped at the start so there's nothing you can really explore there (except for her relationship with her parents ig but they only really brought that up and resolved it in one episode). Alastor has the mystery behind him of what his goals really are, Angel Dust has his arc about standing up to his abuser, Vaggie has her dramatic backstory reveal thing and Sir pentious gets focus as the one real guest at the hotel and with his goal to be redeemed.

Charlie really has no conflict at all, which is weird since the whole plot is that her idea is relentlessly mocked and never succeeds until the end. But she doesn't have a personal conflict. All the issues she faces come from the ignorance of the people around her who don't support her, but never from who she is. She never has to change. They try to hint at this with her being possibly invasive and not respecting boundaries in the Angel Dust and Valentino episode. But the episode doesn't focus on her and Angel as they talk it out and she realizes how she might have to change as well (from how I remember it). It focuses on Husk and Angel's relationship instead.

I feel like the easiest route they could've taken for her character was that of a moral dilemma. Charlie believes in second chances and being able to change demons and her opposite is Adam, who doesn't think demons should be redeemed and should just be killed instead. But it's never specified if Charlie truly believes everyone deserves a second chance or if there are restrictions to that. Adam sings a song in the first episode and explaines his reasoning for why he believes demons shouldn't be saved, which is that they had their chance to be good and didn't choose it and now they can't expect another one (I guess the real reason is that he's just an asshole who doesn't care but that's because Vivzepop can't write Villains so I'll just pretend like that's his real reason).

The problem is that Adam is presented as fully in the wrong and I just don't agree with that. I'm not saying he's right with killing random demons of course but the show never takes the time to consider that sometimes people go to hell because they are actually terrible and have done inexcusable things. Like yeah, someone who had an addicition or a mental health problem while they were alive obviously doesn't deserve eternal suffering without any chance for redeemability, but we know that those aren't the only people that go to hell (in the pilot it's literally confirmed that real life criminals like Jeffrey Dahmer are also down there).

The show blatanly shows us characters like Valentino who are shown to do irredeemable things and be purely evil.

My question is just if Charlie would also look at someone like Valentino and say: "Yeah they deserve to be saved and get a second chance". She obviously thinks Valentino sucks, which we see in the Episode were she meets him.

So like, what would she have done if in the second episode someone like him stood at their door and wanted to be redeemed instead of Sir Pentious. Does she draw a line? Or would she have really heard him out? Her morality with this "everybody deserves a second chance" attitude is so underexplored even though it would have been the perfect place to develop her more. If they had confronted her with an actually tough situation, where she is presented with a truly terrible person, they could've had two interesting ways to take her character.

She could've accepted the person and with that she'd have taken her role a fully 'good' saviour for the demons. Someone who is truly without judgement, or atleast believes that there is good in everyone that just has to be brought out. Which would've also given room to think about if people like that are even inherently good, if they can 'excuse' the actions of terrible people and still want to help them. This would have made her a very extreme character in her believes, but something coherent and definitive is actually something Charlie desperately needs for her characterization.

The other way would've had her reject the person and with that she would have to face the idea that maybe Adam isn't fully wrong. In that situation she would have found herself in a similar position to the Angels in heaven, where she basically is the one deciding over what's acceptable and what isn't. This could lead to her having a moral dilemma. Is she even a good person if she's deciding what's moral and what isn't? Can she just be okay with making exceptions to her idea to protect her people? Does she even want to view EVERY demon as her family? Or does she think there are some demons that maybe deserve death?

I'm just really dissapointed that the show takes such an interesting idea and such a difficult topic and then just does nothing with it. What we view as bad and good and which people we judge harder than others will always depend on social norms and the situation. It's a topic with no real right and wrong answer because there are so many things to consider. But this moral grey conflict that is literally one of the MAIN CONFLICTS in Hazbin Hotel is so incredibly underwritten, that it's not even funny.

Instead of acknowledging the difficulty of the subject Hazbin does what it does best and takes the easy route with seemingly clear right and wrong sides. This is especially stupid, since morally grey characters are supposed to be the point of the show. Like there are these demons who have done bad things and who aren't perfect, but that doesn't make them bad people. Its about revealing that a person has layers (which the writing doesn't). This is also a big point in Helluva Boss, where characters like Blitzø or Stolas who mess up repeatedly, are supposed to be shown as still having interests, aspirations, and good things to them.

The easy route which is taken constantly in both shows however makes it so that Charlie is completely in the right and anyone who criticises her is one of the evil people who try to ruin her plan, just like Adam. Who's also such a straw man for anyone who even dares to bring any objection to Charlies ideas, because everyone who does is apparently a hypocrite who just doesn't understand her and would rather side with genocide (I wonder were Vivzepop takes her inspiration from).

Charlies writing was just really dissapointing with almost never any reflection being done on her part. She doesn't have really striking moments, discussions or ideas to her in a show she's supposed to lead. That's just an issue that comes with Vivzepop never really putting as much work into her female characters, even tough they would desperately need it.

I know that only the first season is out so far, but I highly doubt thay they'll bring up a discussion like this in s2. Especially since Adam is dead now and the Angels will probably try to work more with the demons, after Sir Pentious' redemtion and the reveal of the exterminations to them. Also the Vees, Lillith and Alastor will be more of focus from what we can assume by the ending scenes.

I just don’t like that Viv can take interesting conflicts and write them to be completely one-dimensional and boring.

[wrtingsoftheunknown]

Vincent Sinclair HC

Vincent Sinclair hc SFW and NSFW

I’ve haven’t  been seeing my boy get repped recently so I have to do it myself. My first time writing something on here or towards this character ,I promise I will get better y'al,l I made this super quickly not proofread oops.

SFW

-While he can be insecure about his face he definitely has an ego from being the favorite child and having perfected his craft.

Lester drags him out to go for a ride around town or force him to come to his place for some quality brother time (Bo joins every now and then but wants peace and quiet dammit )

‘I know a lot of people have him learn sign language but I think he either writes what he wants to say, speaks as best as he can, or gestures, ( he was born in the south to parents that I don't think cared about communicating with him too much but he could have picked it up later in life maybe in his teen years or middle school era)

More sadistic than Bo when it comes to killing, he doesn't care if they are dead or alive when working on them and takes satisfaction in the result of his work

He prefers to work in silence but you can catch him humming now and then some country song or a guilty pleasure pop song from the 80’s( I see you Vince)

I think he partakes in multiple forms of art besides wax work.We see he’s able to paint, draw, but he also  takes pictures, , sews, writes, makes videos, anything artistic he’s learning and keeping up with new techniques.

Since he takes video of the killings at times I think they sell them as snuff films to make extra cash on top of stealing and selling victims stuff. (At least that’s what I thought when I first watched the film anyone else or just me)

Rarely happens but will keep victims that interest him like Bo ,but dispose of them when they get boring  or no longer match up the ideal version of them in his head.

-Does want a lifelong partner, the white wedding and picket fence, kids,  but knows it might be difficult with the line of work he does.

- He can talk but only does when it’s important or to emphasize something. He does have a southern draw like Bo and I imagine his voice to sound similar but raspier, maybe deeper/ quieter from not using it as much.

-like I said earlier you have to really catch his attention and be able to hold it for more than a week, if that happens then he’s obsessed and protective maybe a little too over protective.

Does indeed have a hair care routine I believe this full throttle and no one can can tell me otherwise I'm not listening.

NSFW

I don't know if he’s a virgin, I don't think he is something is telling me he isn't, but i’m not sure

He has no problem with nudity, bodies are seen as art, there's not as much of a sexual connotation with them as with Bo and Lester .

He wants to be in love with the person he is intimate with, he wants to be worship and worship his muse.

Drawings  of his partner naked as well as in the midst of a passionate night, he might tease them all night to make sure the sketch is as life like and accurate as possible

Good size and thick that's all I gotta say

Praise kink hard core, hearing his partner call him a good boy or how he makes them feel so good he will crumble

He starts slow and sensual, enjoys the control he has and having someone at his power.

I think he will edge you and leave you high and dry when you act out but he always caves by the end of the day and gives you what you need.

Can last a long time surprisingly

Mainly a giver but someone please for the love of god give this man the nastiest had he’s ever received will make the prettiest noises 

Is down to try anything new and more open about sex than you would think.

When he’s horny he comes up behind his partner and starts caressing every inch he can reach, while resting his chin on their shoulder acting as innocent as he can.

[dearsnow]

THE MOON WILL SING

- the moon hums a tune only elvish ears can pick up. (legolas x gn!human!reader, fluff, idk if you guys will be able to understand the symbolism but it makes sense to me…)

word count: 576

a/n - this is my first legolas piece :) it’s not the quality i would like it to be, but i came out of a writing slump not too long ago so 🤷 it is what it is <3 much thanks to @minaturefics for inspiring this 💕

For once, the night is peaceful. The birds are chirping, as are the crickets, and the trees are swaying to their tune. There are creaks and chitters, crackles and buzzes and the occasional snore from the fellowship sleeping so close to you. The forest is alive, and it is the greatest thing you have ever heard. The melody is softer than music and louder than thunder, existing in a sort of beautiful in-between. The world is perfect, you think. Nothing can compare. And, of course, the world gave you the elf sitting quietly next to you.

“Could you not sleep either?” You whisper, not wanting to disturb the woodsy strums filtering through the wildlife around you. Legolas shakes his head.

“It is a heavenly night.” He whispers back. “It is times like these when I can hear the moon sing her quiet song.” His figure is illuminated by starlight, casting his features in an otherworldly glow. In that moment, he looks ethereal. He picks a fallen leaf between his fingers and smoothes it with a gentle touch.

You look up at the sky, and he looks at you. “What is she saying?” You ask. 

He takes a breath, his words forming clouds in the air. “Something joyous in words I cannot begin to understand.” He places the leaf down, grasping your hands in his. “She tells me something, in thought.” He murmurs, looking deep into your eyes. His own are like pools that forever draw you in. “She tells me that I love you like her.”

You are stunned for a moment. You know he likes you, as you do him, but love is another thing entirely. It is something you feel in kind, though you have not found the words to express it until now. You grip his hands back, searching for something to ground you in this moment. All you can find is soft palms and the stars urging you forward. “And I love you like the sun.” You choke out. There is something so beautifully tender in his gaze. “You may ask the sun in the morning, though. I am sure they will say the same.” He laughs gently and quietly, a melodious sound.

“I will be sure to.” He reasons. He reaches out to cup your face in his palms. “You must rest, meleth nin.” His fingers swipe over your cheekbones.

You hesitate. “I would not want to on this comely night, unless you slept as well.” He squints at you, the action just barely visible in the night.

“I need not to, though I will lie with you if that is what you wish.” He smiles. His smile is one you have adored since the moment you met him. You have adored him since the moment you met him, and this midnight interaction is proof enough. There will never be another being so suited to you as he.

“I wish it.” You say quietly, tone hopeful. He nods just once and wraps his arm around you, slowly pulling you down to the plush forest floor. 

You stay like that for a long time, with his touch sending fire through your veins as his breath lulls you to sleep. The swaying forest and the beaming moon look down on you. Though it is too hushed for you to hear, the moon will always sing her song to deaf ears. And, of course, Legolas will always be there to sing it to you.

Taglist (misc): @skeletonfromthecloset

[osleeplessflowero]

it's currently my birthday so here's some headcanons as to how i think skeletons would act/what they would do on YOUR birthday! (featuring a TON of au characters! :D)

Sans

Might be the one to push your face into your cake. It's a gamble with him. If it's not that, he'll definitely prank you somehow during the day (something lighthearted and fun, of course.) He wants to make sure you have a blast. I could see him getting you something funny, like a shirt with a funny phrase on it you could wear over and over.

Papyrus

He'd be the type to set up the party games, especially something like a Pinata to hit! He might hit it a liiiiittle too hard..but it's okay. Just means you get candy faster! He'd want to make your day something super fun to remember. He's dead set on changing things up each year to make each day memorable.

Red

WILL push your face into your cake, no questions asked. Provided you blew out your candles first (if you have any). He'd definitely want to take you somewhere fun for your birthday, messing with you from time to time to get a laugh. Definitely would want to get you something you could use a lot, or something you've mentioned wanting before. He keeps tabs on these things!

Edge

If he likes you a lot, he'll get you something really nice and insist you keep it taken care of, letting you know he cares in his own ways. Although he might not be as energetic as his brother might be on your special day, he still stays close by and ensures you're having plenty of fun. He's also one of the more rational members of the skeleton group, keeping the others in line so nothing goes wrong.

Blue

INSISTS on being the person to wake you up. He wants to be the first person to tell you but deep down he knows someone else beat him to it during the night, but that won't stop him from enthusiastically singing the Happy Birthday song anyway! He's probably the one to prepare you for an exciting day of fun, planned out with your best interests in mind. (His brother helped out of course by slapping some fun stickers on the schedule.) He might be one of the first people to give you his presents, letting you open it earlier in the day with him present.

Stretch & Rus

These two pretty much share a braincell, so naturally they'd race to be the first to send birthday wishes right at midnight. Funnily enough there's never an exact victor, they always send their messages at the exact same time. During the daylight hours, they stick together to cause plenty of chaos to get smiles and laughter out of you. They might pull a few pranks to tease you, but nothing too far of course. Rus would make some really cool art as a gift for you, anything you could possibly want him to draw or paint. As for Stretch, he'd work with Blue to get something you'd be able to have plenty of fun with (and of course, to use together).

Black

Oh does this man SPOIL you. He'll take you anywhere you want to go, no matter the cost, ensuring you he'll handle everything for your special day. You name anything, he'll get it for you right away. Also one of the men in charge of keeping the others in line so nothing goes too crazy. At least, until alcohol's brought out..then he leaves it up to Edge. ;)

Mars & Jupiter

The Horror bros are a bit less energetic when it comes to your birthday, opting to do something more personal for you. They'd give you their gifts alone so only they get to see your reactions. Jupiter would probably be the one to bake your cake in the first place, shooing everyone else out of the kitchen so he can perfect it. (Soo much spoon smacking..) They'd definitely steal you away a few times during the day to have some relaxing time together. Mars doesn't really like crowds..but he'd be willing to stay in a room with everyone for you.

[Berry is on his best behavior..just for today.]

Stepping out of the Neighborhood AU and into the Multiverse...

Dream, Ink, and Blue(again)!

Dream is SUPER excited for your birthday! He made sure to figure out all your favorite things so there's plenty of joy and positivity. Ink made sure to set up a really nice area for the three of you to celebrate, and maaaaybe set up some sort of water/paint balloon fights for some fun. Blue is in charge of activities and making sure Ink's chaos doesn't get too out of hand!

The Bad Sanses

Killer makes sure to be the first one to wake you up, singing the happy birthday song enthusiastically to embarrass you. Dust and Horror will be a bit more calm than he is, messing up your hair and giving you little affectionate/friendly gestures. Nightmare sets up a grand party for you, decorating the castle to the very best of his ability. He'll do his best to make things absolutely perfect for one of his favorite group members (don't tell the others, especially not Killer!). They all made sure to pitch in and get you some things that you'd thoroughly enjoy (just don't ask WHERE they got them from, okay?)

Error

He might have kidnapped you. But you're usually cool with it so it's okay. He's not particularly crazy about the idea of a big extravagant birthday party, so he sets up a day where you can spend time together watching your favorite shows in the Anti Void. As for his gift? Well, I could see him making some little puppets for you to have, maybe one of himself so when you hug it you'll think about him. (And since he's still adapting to physical touch himself.)

Cross

Cross wants to spend as much time with you as he can on your birthday. He's not one for big, extravagant things, but he would do something personal and sweet for you to make you happy, just content to spend time making you feel special. He might take you stargazing or something similar, a fun thing for both of you to do.

Bonus!

Fresh! (i will write about him at least once i swear. platonic fresh enjoyers this is for you)

You already KNOW Fresh is on top of things when it comes to his best bud's birthday! He'd definitely bring you somewhere where you both would have plenty of room to mess around and cause some chaos. No where is safe! I could see him dragging you to something like a skate park or to go spray paint some stuff. Or maybe to go see a movie together you can both laugh at. If he can't hang out with you alone, he'll show up at the Star Sanses' party to surprise you there.

[lightofthemoonglow]

Dry humping

Two characters intertwining their fingers while making love

Stu Macher + Reader

Feel free tose interpretation and take control<3

Note: I wasn’t sure if you wanted everything to be Stu-focused, but that seemed like the best option, and it worked out that way once I got the idea!

“ I dare you to give Stu a lap dance.”

You roll your eyes, but you still put down your beer and get off the couch. “This is some high school shit and we’re adults now, for fuck’s sake,” you grumble as you stand in front of Stu, who pats his lap with a wide grin on his face. Your back is to Billy, so you don’t see his sly grin or the thumbs up he gives his best friend. Of course this had been a ruse designed to get you to this place, to you sitting on Stu’s lap.

The music shifts to some Nine Inch Nails, ‘Closer’ starting up as you began to gyrate on Stu’s lap. Your movements are awkward and your legs keep knocking against his, the brushes of skin on skin clearly doing someone for Stu because he gets a little harder every time. There’s a burst of noise from outside, someone is getting into a fight on the lawn and everyone in the room leaves but the two of you. And before you can get up, Stu grabs your arm.

“Song isn’t over yet,” he says, his voice quieter than you can ever remember it being. His grip isn’t that tight, it would be easy for you to pull away and go see what all the fuss was about. Only…you don’t want to. You can feel him against your ass, hard and throbbing even though your body is stone still. Slowly, you begin to rock your hips again, holding onto the arms of the chair just before Stu grabs your hips, this time his grip is firm.

Nothing comes off, he doesn’t even go to cop a feel. He just humps away, groaning praises in your ear. “Damn, your ass is perfect. Spent years beating off thinking about it.” He’s done before the song is even over. It feels like the moment went on forever, but it was only a few minutes. Afterwards, you go to watch the fight, which is only two guys shoving each other, and Stu goes to clean up, no one being any the wiser.

--

The party is over by one, but there are always stragglers. But it’s past two a.m now and you’re still in the living room, sprawled on the couch as Urban Legend comes to an end. In the distance, you can hear Bllly leaving and you know that means you’re the last one here. You pause the movie as the credits begin to roll, waiting for footsteps, waiting for Stu to be the one standing in front of you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Is there anything to talk about?” You sit up so he can be next to you, drawing your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them.

“I came in my pants because of you, so yeah.”

“A simple biological response to-“

“I came because of you.” The way he says the last word makes your heart stop, just for a moment. “It wouldn’t have been like that with anyone else.” He grabs your hand, playing with your fingers as he tells you that he meant it when he had said he jerked off to thoughts of your ass. And the rest of you. He revealed the whole plan, though the fight had not been a part of it. It wasn’t supposed to have gone that far, but he hadn’t been able to help himself and you had wanted it too.

“I just wish I had gotten to see your face when you came,” you say, looking at the semi that’s forming in his shorts. Stu laughs and looks at the same place because he knows what you’re hinting at.

--

A part of you had expected Stu would go at it on the couch. That he would pull your shorts off and just go to town. Much to your surprise, and delight, he carried you up the stairs and to his bedroom. Thankfully, there aren’t any stragglers lurking up there, so he can just throw you on the bed and get down to business.

Stu’s hands are bigger than you had thought. Which is illogical, considering you see them all the time. but they seem so much bigger when they’re covering your tits, when his fingers trail up your thigh and then press against your entrance so he can feel how wet you are.

And they’re an anchor for you when he’s finally inside of you. It’s not your first time, but it’s still overwhelming, you feel like the world is coming down on you and him holding your hands makes it feel so real and wonderful.

[reidscanehand]

I Remember Halloween

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Category: Fluff/Comfort

Warnings: mentions of burnout and anxieties

Based on a single tiktok and this song

~ More and more I’ll catalogue my doubts ~

You could see the signs. Hell, you’d always been able to see the signs. Even when you and Spencer weren’t dating and were just co-workers, you’d been able to see the signs. You don’t see how anyone could miss any of Spencer’s tells, honestly, though he was terribly good at masking them when he wanted to. However, since semi-retiring from the BAU and focusing more on teaching, Spencer had been less careful, less guarded. It would annoy him if you said so, but you delighted in it - the openness, the guard finally down fully. Suffice it to say that when your adorable husband came home two weeks in a row, exhausted even after only teaching one class, you recognized it as burnout, even if he didn’t. Or wouldn’t - self care had never been Spencer’s strong suit. Which is why the element of surprise is entirely necessary, no matter how drastic it may feel. It was incredibly helpful that, despite living through a pandemic working in education and being a genius, your husband still is an abysmally precious mess when it comes to technology.

You’d originally thought to do a Friday, but with various friend and family celebrations almost every weekend until the end of the year, it made more sense - and frankly made it more fun - to cancel Spencer’s classes for a day and play hooky a little.

It’s a bright and slightly rainy Thursday morning - random, but purposefully so - in September. Your husband’s alarm goes off and he leans over, pressing a kiss to your temple, before getting up and taking a shower. Every so often, you’d join him in the shower, but not today. Today you get up and head to the kitchen.

You’d loved Spencer’s old apartment, but when the two of you moved in together, especially after the events of his last few somewhat traumatizing years with the BAU, a change felt necessary. The two bedroom, two bath bungalow you two found just outside of Stafford, Virginia was just as charming as Spencer’s old place. Antique, but modern enough to have better security than his old building (he is understandably a stickler for safety). The kitchen features windows looking out into your small backyard, Spencer planted a tree last year and you’re sure it was in order to watch the leaves change as fall arrives. The tips of the leaves are just beginning to yellow, the light rain a perfect background for the day you have planned. You turn on the stove and oven and open the fridge, pulling out a can of pumpkin spice cinnamon rolls and the package of turkey bacon. You begin cooking and you can hear your husband start getting ready and, just as you thought it would, the smell of the food draws him away from his typical morning routine (get dressed, make coffee, grab a granola bar if he remembers to) and brings him to the kitchen.

“Is there a reason,” he asks from the doorway, “that it smells…like, um-“

“Like fall?” you ask, smiling over your shoulder at him as you flip the turkey bacon in the pan. Spencer grins and you turn back to the food.

“Well, yeah,” Spencer says. “You planning a fun day alone?”

You wince a little at the small hint of jealousy you hear in his voice, thrilled that your response is, “No, not alone.”

“Oh,” he replies, a little shocked. “Is someone coming ov-“

“Nope,” you reply cheerfully, grabbing a mitt and pulling the cinnamon rolls out of the oven.

“Wait…wait, what?” Spencer questions, totally not distracted by you bending over like that.

“Come on, lovey,” you tease, turning to face him fully. “Put the pieces together.”

He stares at you for a moment and then looks almost overwhelmingly sad, “Honey, I have three classes today, I can’t-“

“About that,” you cut him off quietly. He arches a brow at you, but you cross to the end of the kitchen island, pulling out Spencer’s university laptop and opening it, clicking to his classes’ dashboard page on the school’s site and turning it around slowly, chewing on your lip just a little nervously.

“Dear Students,” Spencer reads after popping on his glasses. “Classes are cancelled until Monday due to slight illness on my part. Have a great long weekend - be sure to read ahead for Monday!”

There’s a slightly too long silence that makes you just a bit nervous.

“I know it might be a bit of an overstep, but you’ve just seemed so…so burned out lately and-“ you’re cut off as Spencer moves to stand right in front of you.

“You cancelled my classes for me?” he asks, a small smile poking at the corner of his mouth.

“Yes,” you reply.

“So that we could…do what, exactly?” He attempts to keep his smile at bay, but is nearly beaming.

“Well,” you smile, “I thought we could eat some pumpkin spice cinnamon rolls and bacon and, I don’t know, maybe get really cozy on our super comfortable couch and watch Hocus Pocus, Corpse Bride, and Practical Magic? Maybe throw in Crimson Peak if we’re still going strong?”

“Just to clarify, you realized I was burned out and decided to plan a cozy fall movie day to make me feel better?” Spencer asks, almost incredulous, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“That would be it, yes,” you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Damn,” he mutters quietly, looking down at you.

“What?” you giggle.

“Nothing,” Spencer beams, turning his head and eyeing your lips, “I just definitely married the perfect woman.”

Your laugh is quickly quashed by his lips on yours.

~ I remember Halloween. ~

Tag List: @shadyladyperfection @cielo1984 @rainsong01 @pessimystic-fangirl @saspencereid @andreasworlsboring101 @avidreider  @aizawaxkun @babyspencersslut @no-honey-no  @subhuman-queer  @uhuhuh @whatamidoinghp @spongeshxt  @itsametaphorbriansblog @vgirl-10123  @stand-tall-pineapple  @padsfirewhisky @ceeellewrites @dahliasbouqet @drayshadow @cal-ifornication-blog @theetherealbloom  @eevee0722 @questionmymentality @wintermuteway @ellesmythe @ssa-githae @cherrystay @calm-and-doctor @devilswaldorf @half-blood-dork @blameitonthenight21 @happyreid187 @goldeng1rl8 @meangirlsx @honestlystop @avengers-ass-emble17 @bauhousewife @averyhotchner @underscorecourt  @fan-girl-97 @coolbeans3 @boxofsparklingmuses @allaboutsml @percabethfangirl @buckyluvbot @v-is-obsessive @tanyaherondale @usuck @mitchiri-nek0  @kaitlynpcallmebeepme @miraclesoflove @meganskane @babymetaldoll @ivebeenthinkingboutu @rockin2thebeats @infinite-tides @onlyhereforthefanfics  @g-l-pierce @thisiscalm-andits-doctor @art-and-thoughts @exhaleli @allthecolorsneverseen @measure-in-pain @acidicbloody @hotchnerxo @her-storybooks  @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @bilesxbilinskixlahey @wilbur-rabbit @twilightlover2007 @ssamorganhotchner @h0tch-r0cket @wheelsupkels @jhiddles03 @lovesammikinzz @m-mhotchner @chaoticconnoisseurgiver @baueoud @mischiefmanaged71 @gspenc @spottedzebrasinpartyhats @her-storybooks @kajjaka @chickensrule  @marvel-mars @wanniiieeee @gublur @aivilovio @rousethemouse​ @unionjackpillow​

[milliesfishes]

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓐𝓾𝓻𝓸𝓻𝓪𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

[fem reader] contains: cheating, sexual themes, drugs pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: (70s au) billy works as security for a band with you as the lead singer author’s note: as always let me know if you want more! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

America's sweetheart.

Two words that your name always accompanied, whether standing boldly in front or trailing behind. Staring out into the crowd, lights bright as suns nearly blinding you, faintly you could make out a sign held by a cheering fan with that phrase written in big, bold letters.

Raising your arms to the sky, you let a big, bold smile stretch your lips, tilting your head so your hair fell down your back. There was a sound like thunder as the crowd let you know exactly how excited they were to see you.

It was adrenaline. It was glory. It was invigorating. Rock 'n roll did that to you, and there was no other feeling like it. You didn't cycle through drugs and booze like the rest of your bandmates, determined to keep your image intact and your body safe for performing, but there was no way coke or ecstasy came even close to how you felt right now.

Next to you, David flashed you a cheesy grin. As usual he stood close enough to you that he was in the spotlight, but far away enough that it looked like he was letting you have your moment. His fingers absentmindedly stroked the curve of his electric guitar, as attached to the instrument as anyone could be to anything.

Blowing a kiss to the audience, you watched the faces closest to you light up. It was jarring still, how a single motion from you could make a stranger so happy. Although the idolatry of it all had a power that scared you, you were determined to use it for good.

David moved in, sliding his arm around your waist and making you stiffen slightly. He waved to the audience, the sight of the two of you together sending them into a frenzy. He kissed your cheek, ever the picture of the supportive boyfriend.

You subtly pulled yourself away from him, folding your hands on the microphone and leaning slightly into the stand. "It's been such a wonderful night, hasn't it?" A great cheer sounded. "We've got one more song for you...thank you for coming out tonight."

The band glided into the opening chords of the song, and you raised a hand to the sky, a long, smooth note drawing from your throat.

"The space between her eyes is where his lips found their home...she's an angel in his window when the light goes off..."

David elbowed his way against you, showing off by tweaking the chords into a riff. You felt a twinge of annoyance. He always did this, trying to bring all the attention on him. Not that you were possessive over the spotlight. The setlist was specifically tuned so that there were individual songs that highlighted the skills of each band member. And while being the lead singer made you the face of the band, you were very insistent about letting everyone have their moment.

This song was your time. It was your most impressive vocal feat, and you spent hours in practice and mic check perfecting your performance. And here David was, in the middle of an impromptu guitar solo. You could practically feel the exasperation of your bandmates behind you.

Normally you would have let him. Smiled as he demonstrated his skill, be a supportive girlfriend. But tonight for some reason you'd had enough. Frustration took over your regularly demure manner, and your mind raced.

In a split-second decision, you waited for the next break in chords, bursting into song and pulling out all the stops. You trilled riffs every other word, ranging from a low growl to a whistle-y high. And when it came time for the chorus, you let your voice soar as you belted the words...in French.

Of course, the audience was eating it up like a four-course meal. They wouldn't be able to see the little rivalry happening onstage, all they knew was that they'd gotten the cake with the cream for that song. Between David's solo and your response, it was sure to be talked about, which would mean good publicity.

You could feel his eyes on you. David hated it when you sang in French, even though you adored the language. In the past he'd told you that he always felt like you were trying to seem better than him by doing it, as if you'd learned just to spite him. That seemed to be a common theme these days in your arguments. Perhaps that was what sparked his little musical outburst just now.

Trying to concentrate back on the music, you leaned into the microphone, crooning the last few words of the song and feeling the lights dim above you as the crowd went wild. You heard your name being chanted, almost like a whisper under the noise. Raising your hand and waving, blowing kisses, you shouted, "Goodnight!", and picked up your skirts, gracefully heading offstage with the band.

There was a flurry of congratulations and praise surrounding you the second you were behind the curtain, and in a haze you tried to thank them all. Your manager pulled you aside quickly, around a corner behind a rack holding your dresses. She smiled brightly. "Great performance. The papers will be singing your praises tomorrow."

"I hope so," you ran a hand over your face, feeling some of the glitter on your eyelids smear onto your fingers. "After David tried to commandeer my song."

"It was a smooth fix," she assured you, leaning against the wall. "Nobody's gonna be talking about him tomorrow. All the stars are aligned in your favor."

"Would you talk to him?" you asked nervously, using your non-glittery hand to smooth your hair. "I've tried, but..."

"I understand," she nodded. "First thing tomorrow I'll lay down the law. Keep the showing off to his designated song. Stay out of yours."

"Isn't like he helped write it," you muttered, pursing your lips. "Could you make sure he knows not to interrupt the songs of anyone in the band? I'd almost rather have him pull that little stunt in mine than anyone else's. He isn't above switching tactics."

"It'll be the first thing on my list," your manager promised, patting your shoulder. "Go rest up. You played a good show, focus on that."

As you headed down the hallway to your dressing room, you tried to prepare yourself for what laid ahead. David would persuade you to give him the spare key to your hotel room, sneak in at an ungodly hour and spend an even worse amount of time trying to beg his way into your bed. Inhaling softly, you made it a goal to relish the hour or so you'd get alone before heading back to the hotel.

Focusing on your breaths, you pushed the dressing room door open, and immediately gasped in horror at the sight waiting for you inside like a disgusting haunted house.

David was sitting on the chaise, pants pushed down to his ankles, head tilted back and groaning as a girl you barely recognized as a groupie knelt in front of him. Her hair hid her actions, but it wasn't hard to gather what exactly she was doing.

When you gasped, his eyes flew open and widened when they recognized you. He sat up, opening his mouth to say something, but you turned on your heel, slamming the door shut and leaning against it.

Maybe if he'd come after you, you would have given him some grace. But almost as soon as the door was closed you could hear his moans again, and tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

Turning, you ran down the hall, narrowly missing trunks and boxes in your feet's path. Holding the skirt of your dress, you almost felt like a maiden of old sprinting through a field. If the maiden had just had her heart broken by a man she wasn't even sure she loved even though they'd been together for nearly a year, you'd be a dead match.

Finding your way into a room void of anything but a single box of records, you collapsed to your knees, resting your head against the wall and letting the tears fall.

Even America's Sweetheart catches heartbreak.

Leaning against the side of the tour bus, Billy watched as the roadies hauled everything into the undercarriage of the bus. He kept a wary eye out in the alley for crazed fans or lost civilians, but the coast seemed to be clear. It wouldn't be the first time he'd had to step in, but for tonight he was glad things were calm.

Working security hadn't been his first choice of career, but it'd been a good way to support his family before his mother died and his brother was hauled off by his stepfather. By the time the dust from the tragedy had settled, Billy had been alright with continuing the work. It paid well and it was something he knew how to do: mindless labor.

One of the roadies next to him groaned, leaning against the side. "There was one more box in the back room."

"Dude..." his companion shook his head.

Billy clapped him on the back. "I've got it. Think you guys can handle yourselves for a few minutes? Could use some time away from ya."

As his friend laughed good-naturedly, Billy strode in the direction off the room, whistling lightly as he did. Usually, he wouldn't have left his post, but he was in a good mood tonight, wanting to stretch his legs. It had been a good show tonight- that was one of the perks of his job. He got to watch the inner workings of the production, of the tour. But best of all he got to watch you.

He would have been lying if he said you weren't a big reason he'd accepted work for this band. There had been offers from several prominent names- Billy had become renowned for his dedication to his work. But he'd chosen this one, chosen you.

A few years back he'd gotten the chance to see the band live, shoulder to shoulder with a few of his friends at the time. It had been right in the midst of his mother's illness, and he'd had to be practically dragged away from her side. His friends were insistent that she'd be fine with the nurse for a few hours, and that he needed to relieve some stress.

Of course, they'd been implying that he needed to find someone to warm his bed for the night, but he told them he was going for the music. The band's singles had been on the radio at the hospital a few times, and he enjoyed the sound, had been willing to get a ticket.

Looking to the stage he'd watched the members file out from offstage, waving to the crowd's enthusiastic cheers. The drummer, the keyboardist, the bass player, the guitarist who took way too long striding to his spot, soaking up every bit of attention the audience would give him.

Then you appeared. With a smile like morning sunshine and a laugh akin to church bells that he could hear from his place in the back, you captivated him at first sight. It went without saying that you were beautiful- he'd seen you on the covers of magazines at supermarkets around town. There was more to you than 'great tits and an ass', as the man next to him breathed. No, your aura exuded something so mesmerizing that he didn't tear his eyes from you for the whole show.

And when you opened your mouth to sing, well, it would be an understatement to say you were phenomenal. He bought the band's record the day after that.

Needless to say, he'd accepted the offer of security work giddily. Not only was the job the full package, with benefits and pay that would set him up, but he would get to watch you every night. Even a glimpse from his spot offstage would be more than enough.

He was surprised when you turned out to be just as lovely in person as you were onstage. Usually, celebrities and rock stars were doting with their fans from their pedestal but cold when you met them on the same level. But you were the only member of the band who asked his name, and you said hello to him whenever your paths crossed, asking him how he was doing.

The best part was that you never seemed to be doing it out of obligation. You had a gift that made a person feel like there was nobody in the world you'd rather be listening to. He'd say something that'd make that ringing laugh escape your lips, your response decorated with the cute Southern accent that Rolling Stone had declared 'sultry and girl-next-door all rolled into one', and his day would be made.

Billy turned the corner down the hallway, nearly bumping into the lead guitarist. David grabbed his arm, pulling him jarringly close as he asked roughly, "Have you seen her?"

Assuming he meant you, Billy tried not to cough at the cigarettes on his breath and said, "No. Not since the show-"

He was already running off, pulling some poor intern aside likely to ask the same question. Billy shook off the interaction and continued on his way to the second storage room. He pushed open the door, spotting the box of the band's records sitting alone in the light of the open door. Just as he was about to move, the sound of a sniffle caught his ear.

Eyes peeled in the darkness, it would have been an understatement to say he was surprised to see you there, legs pulled to your chest, dress bunched around your thighs as you leaned against the wall with your head in your knees.

You were crying, little sobs escaping you as you sniffled into yourself. He could only watch you for a moment in disbelief. The show had been wonderful, the crowd adoring. He hadn't noticed any mistakes you'd made. But Billy also knew well enough by now that behind the scenes was a myriad of things nobody usually knew to ask about.

Hesitantly, he took a step forward. Normally he wouldn't disturb someone who'd clearly come here for refuge, but it was you. And like it or not, he cared about you and wanted you to be okay.

"Hey..." he started, wincing when you looked up with tearful eyes. His greeting felt too casual for the situation. "Everythin' alright?"

Now your fingers were moving to the outlines of your eyes, collecting any makeup that the tears had smeared. You forced a smile onto your face. "Hi Billy..." sniffle "...I'm okay."

Your voice was honeyed, although decorated with tears, and he wasn't convinced by the act. So instead of pressing, he sat down in front of you, one knee bent, the other flat on the floor, nearly touching yours. He gave you a look. "What happened?"

Lower lip trembling, the entire story came bursting out, your breath hitching every now and then. How you'd walked in on your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend, you amended) with one of the women who followed the band around like mosquitoes on a blood bank. His heart sank as your confession poured out of you, and you seemed to relive it as you told the tale.

Billy was quiet for a moment. His only thought was how stupid David was. You'd chosen to more than give him the time of day, something Billy certainly didn't think the man was worthy of, and he'd somehow screwed it up. He looked up into your eyes. "Why d'ya think he did it?"

You brushed a tear away. "He was mad tonight that I one-upped him in the finale."

"Y'mean your French part?" Billy asked, thinking back to it. Of course he'd been utterly mesmerized by you, blown away by your utter skill.

"He hates it when I do things like that," you murmured, looking down as if you were embarrassed.

It was a strange thing, seeing America's Sweetheart crying on the floor because her ex hadn't been able to handle her talent. The world felt all backwards.

Looking down at you, with your tearstained and reddened cheeks coupled with the facts of the moment, Billy felt a wave of protectiveness crash over him. It was his job to keep you safe, but right now, overexcited fans and paparazzi was the last thing on his mind. You didn't deserve one bit of this situation.

With that in mind, he reached out, setting a hand on your knee. You looked up at him with shining eyes that lit a spark in his heart. Billy squeezed it once. "Y'know...you've gotta good heart. 'n anyone who tries t' take advantage of it don't deserve ya."

The tiniest smile lifted your lips, and Billy nearly melted. You sniffled once, and he could see you coming back; the sweet girl he'd grown to care for in the past few months. "Really?"

"I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true," he promised, nodding to punctuate it. "I've worked for lotsa stars. An' none of 'em 'r as kind as you, so they don't shine as bright. If anybody should know their worth, it's you."

Nodding slightly, you brushed your last tear away. "Him and me are done. I don't care what excuses he tries to make later."

Billy felt relief, though he wasn't sure why. "'f course."

Straightening your knees out, you smoothed your dress, looking up at him. He couldn't help the twang he felt when you fixed such pretty doe eyes in his direction. "I'm sorry I unloaded all that on you."

"No, no," he assured you, eyes sincere. "It's okay. Believe me, I don't mind at all."

Smiling softly, you sat up a little more, smoothing your hair. Then your face filled with dread. "I don't wanna go out and face him. He's gonna try and apologize and..." you covered your eyes with your hand.

Picturing David, Billy nearly cringed. He squeezed your knee again. "I'll stay with ya. I am your security after all."

"For the whole band," you corrected.

"Well, tonight 'm makin' an exception," Billy remedied. He was relieved when you giggled, that sunshine-y sound making him smile in return. "The rest 'f the band can settle for the others in my position. But you're stuck with me." Standing up, he held out a hand. "C'mon. I'll walk ya out."

That tiny smile still gracing your face, you took the outstretched hand and stood, ironing out your dress with your opposite fingers. It was made of a sheer white material, and he could see the outline of your body through it. Even after you'd been crying, you were still stunning. Picking up the box of records, he shifted to hold it against his side as his arm slid around your shoulders and you leaned into him.

Billy guided you through the hallways, escorting you onto the bus with the rest of the band. As expected, once you sat down David turned and opened his mouth. But before he could say anything Billy gave him a firm look, squeezing his arm around you.

He didn't let the smile he wanted to show spread over his face when you rested your head on his shoulder. His hand rubbed your arm, and you closed your eyes.

The bus ride was rowdy as usual, with groupies and band members alike doing lines and chattering loudly in the background. You didn't join in- simply sitting with Billy and letting your hair fall over his torso. He wanted to drop a kiss to your head, but he didn't, sure you'd been overwhelmed enough for the evening. So he just let you rest there, the box of records sitting on his lap and making his knees go numb.

Billy walked you all the way up to your assigned hotel room, stopping in front of the door. He took in your tired expression, letting his arm fall from around your shoulders. "You doin' okay?"

"As well as I can, I think," you said softly, eyes meeting his. Billy half-smiled and shifted the box on his hip.

"'s understandable," he consoled. "'m here for ya though. Whatever ya need." Now he took a step back, getting ready to say goodnight, but paused seeing the look on your face. You were looking over his shoulder timidly, as if scared of something behind him. When he checked, there was nobody there. Raising an eyebrow, Billy turned back to you. "Somethin' wrong?"

"I'm scared David's gonna try and come into my room," you whispered, eyes still on the elevator doors. "He's done it before, I-" you looked down, shaking your head. "It's stupid."

"No," Billy shook his head firmly. "No, he shouldn't be doin' that." He cast a long look at the doors, then used his free hand to lift your chin so your eyes met his. It was funny-every time they did he was awestruck. "Look...d'ya want me to stay with you?"

He almost cringed as soon as he said it. Could he sound any more like a desperate fan? But this was different. He was genuinely concerned for your well-being. And come hell or high water, Billy would do anything for you.

Your brow furrowed in an impossibly adorable way. "Don't you have to go check in with the other security?"

Billy gave you a look. "Do you feel unsafe?"

"I...I don't-" your voice was halting. "I can't get you in trouble just cause-"

"Yes or no, do you?"

A pause. "Yes."

"Right," he nodded, a fond little smile crossing his face. "That makes this an emergency, and I'm s'posed to keep ya safe in an emergency. If ya want me to stay..." his thumb lightly stroked your chin. "I'll stay."

There was some glitter on his hand from the makeup that had smeared down your cheeks. It was a picture every man in America would kill for- their hand on your soft face. You nodded slowly.

"It's settled, then," he said quietly, hand falling from your cheek. When you still looked unsure of the situation, Billy said, "Toldja earlier. It's my job to keep ya safe." He made sure you were making eye contact when he said, "I want to protect you."

"Thank you," you whispered, eyes soft.

"'s no problem," Billy told you. When you turned to stick the key into the lock, he kept himself wary of the surroundings, ready to jump in front of you if David dared to make any appearence.

Though Billy was dedicated to his job, you were a special case. He couldn't ignore the twinges in his heart whenever you smiled, the need in his being to keep you smiling. You weren't just any old celebrity with talent; you shone inside out with a light that a man didn't come across every day.

So, he vowed right then and there that he would always keep you safe. No matter the cost.

[anakinsthot]

[KICKS THE DOOR IN]

hi yes hello! I'd like to request praise + dancing [and for absolute challenge points, should it spark joy; playing with hair]

ty 💜

I don't remember what list this is from 🫣 anyway have 600 words of pre-relationship obikin

-

Obi-Wan watched the class of padawans with amusement. There was a senate ball coming up, and a number of Jedi had been invited as guests. Mostly those who had mediated planetary disputes for the Senate. Their padawans, regardless of their actual help in said mediations, were also invited.

Which led to this: Anakin Skywalker, nineteen years old, had been invited to a ball and needed to learn how to dance. Obi-Wan had offered to teach him but Anakin had stubbornly refused his help, opting to attend one of the classes offered in temple instead.

It was funny, Obi-Wan thought, that someone who was normally preternaturally graceful suddenly seemed to have two left feet when asked to put their hands on another being and move to a beat.

He waited quietly in the balcony above the gym that had been commandeered for tonight’s dance class. Eventually the Master teaching had either imparted all the knowledge he’d wished to for the day or gave up and dismissed the group. Obi-Wan couldn’t quite tell. About 20% of the class was as bad as Anakin, 70% were passable if not graceful, and the final 10% looked to require no instruction at all.

As the padawans started to trickle out Obi-Wan tugged on the bond he shared with Anakin, drawing his attention to the balcony where Obi-Wan hid in the shadows.

Anakin waved off the group who’d asked him to join them for dinner, giving some excuse that Obi-Wan couldn’t hear. They left quickly enough. Once the gym was clear of anyone except him and Anakin, Obi-Wan leapt down from the balcony, landing lightly on the wooden floor.

“Did you watch the whole time?” Anakin’s voice was sullen as he asked, but the red on his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment.

“Long enough to see you trip over your own feet,” Obi-Wan told him with a smile. “You hardly stood out though. I thought that poor togruta was going to fall on his ass more than once.”

That brought a glimmer of a smile to Anakin’s face. “Nash can’t seem to keep a tempo, he ends up tangled with his partner when he’s a beat ahead of or behind them.”

Obi-Wan moved to the music player and selected a song that hadn’t been played during class. “Would you like to take up my offer to help you now?”

Anakin groaned but took Obi-Wan’s hand. “We didn’t practice with this music.”

Obi-Wan arranged them so that they were in the first pose of the dance Anakin’s class had been attempting. “It’s the same steps you were learning. Just with a song you might have actually heard before, not one that was popular seventy years ago.” Anakin laughed and some of the tension held in his tight shoulders dispelled.

They started out tentatively. Anakin was trying to keep distance between them and as a result had trouble feeling the movements Obi-Wan tried to guide him into with gentle pulls and pushes.

“Look at me, padawan,” Obi-Wan said. He ran a hand up the back of Anakin’s neck, fingers twisting into the short ponytail there and gently but firmly tilting Anakin’s head up until they made eye contact. “You can’t be afraid to touch your partner. You must be in tune with each other, able to feel where the other is going to be before they’re there.”

Anakin nodded shortly. His cheeks were a flaming red but he did as instructed. The hand at Obi-Wan’s waist tightened and the one on his shoulder pressed more firmly into Obi-Wan. Slowly, their steps became more and more in sync until they were moving around the floor in perfect harmony with the music.

“Very good, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured softly. He tugged on Anakin’s hair one more time. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

[noskipnotability]

Dance In My Underpants

Humbug!Al x Reader fluff

Summary: You and Alex dance late at night, after a long day

A/N: humbug al, my princess, please come back with your long hair and big brown eyes. We miss you. I just had to sneak in a little of the devil’s lettuce cause there was no way he wasn't on something writing those lyrics for humbug. Enjoy my lovelies<3

His hair fell and cast drapes over his doe eyes. You run your hand through it as he looks up, they are slightly bloodshot from the joint that you had shared to 'get the creative juices flowing'. The writing hadn't been as easy as he'd hoped, but something to ease his mind always helped. Not as much as being around the one he loved, but he wasn't going to turn one down if she offered. And offer you did. 

The day had been especially stressful for you as well. Work had been a bitch and your manager felt like the devil incarnate. So, seeing your lover scribbling relentlessly in his small songwriting journal with a frustrated look, you knew the perfect solution. 

The pen and paper had been replaced with a record that spun out 'Rain In My Heart' softly from the speaker. Slowly, you stood from where you laid on the settee with your legs over Alex's lap and his hands drawing shapes on the side of your thigh. You stood over him as those puppy eyes graced your sight and your hand cupped his cheek. Your thumb brushed over his chapped bottom lip and you leaned down to place a kiss on his lips, his long lashes fall over his eyes. With your other arm, you pull him up from the seat. 

Your hand moves from his cheek to his waist as Sinatra continues blessing your ears. His wrap around your neck and his forehead knocks gently into yours. His lips crash into yours once more as you start swaying both your hips to rhythm of the song. You breathe in the scent of his earlier cigarette and rich cologne that followed him everywhere and you had become so accustomed to waking up to each morning. 

It was what you had grown to love so much about living with Alex, always having a reminder of the person you would see come home each day. He too, had begun loving the scent that lingered around him and on his clothes because of you. The one that brought the amazing memories and thoughts of you, that calm him and bring joy to every moment. He could only wish to bottle it up and be able to spray it whenever he believed he was going to lose it, simply because it wouldn’t even a take a second for you to come rushing back and any worries to dissipate into smoke. 

Your feet trade steps on the carpet-covered floor that felt light beneath your feet and the socks you wore that were heavenly and kept you warm in the cold flat. Alex’s sweater bunched up around your arms where they held him snuggly, as to not let him escape the bubble of comfort and love you had conjured. His button-up, with a few undone at the top, rode up his front from the closeness that he would usually find bothered him, but with you it wasn’t more than a passing thought. It was thin and you could feel the small shivers that ran through him, that happened to contradict the heat he radiated, acting as your personal heater you’d love to bring with you everywhere. 

His breaths were soft and as beautiful as the notes he would sing, occasionally he would hum along to the music into your ear from how little space there was between you two. When he started to sing along you thought you’d melt. His voice was mellow, but sweeter than honey and you thought you’d drown in it. You had always been able to listen to him for ages, talking or singing, he never fell short of perfection in that area, or really any other in your eyes. 

“D’you wear this to work?” 

He was referring to the black, knitted sweater that fit you, as you tended to balance each other in your builds. You let out a silent chuckle at his cluelessness but nodded anyways, it becoming clear as to what exactly he paid attention to while you dressed that morning. Despite watching you from bed as you scanned the closet in your underwear, he couldn’t remember you stealing it. 

You’d admit your amusement at the fact that Alex didn’t bother putting on any sort of pants after showering that morning, instead opting to wear just his boxers all day. Though it gave you a good view, you feared him freezing in the flat, even under the thick quilt that hung on the back of your settee. He couldn’t seem bothered on the other hand, any coldness gone the moment he saw your face or heard the key turning in the door. The sound, he knew, meant your arrival when he would rush to the door to greet you, just as you would whenever he came home after you. 

One of his hands reached down to yours at his waist, locking them together, he brought it up to beside you both. You lifted your arm even more and he pulled from you to do a small spin. Immediately he crashed into you again, not willing to spend any longer apart if he could help it. You fell into a small fit of laughter at how adorable he was spinning in a circle, to which he joined in despite being unaware why you were laughing. To him, it didn’t matter because the sound of yours was too contagious and any happiness you felt, he did as well. 

He damned the hair that grew to long on his head as it obstructed the otherwise flawless scene of your breath-taking smile. And your eyes that squinted from how bright it was, making gorgeous lines form in the corners, that he hoped to grow permanently along with you. Your hair, that he pulled back when put his arms around your neck, now laid to frame your face and accentuate every stunning feature that you effortlessly wore. 

You merely wished he could see through your eyes for even a second. His hair, too, framed those brown eyes that could convince you to do anything. It brought out that perfect nose you could only compliment to shove away any insecurities that rose from it. His perfect smile that brought out the apples of his cheeks with their pink tint. That was really the only word you could think of to describe him—perfect. At least, it was the only one of the current time. You hoped one would come along in the future to describe the other-worldly beauty the man you called yours held dearly. Because none written in any dictionary could do even a modicum of justice to the love of your life. 

As the song closed and your laughs died out, you pulled him into a hug, clinging to almost reassure him of your love. To tell him how much you needed him, how much you were devoted to him. Your love that extended beyond just words into every factor of your lives, that you tried as best as you could, to share as eloquently as he did in the poetry he wrote. However much he denied it, his words were nothing less and you would keep telling him that until your last days. 

The way he relaxed, and all tension he had felt since you left that morning was gone, you felt satisfied in that he understood. You walked him back until you both crashed onto the settee, tangled together in your own, beautifully unaware, world.

[lilacmingi]

MY MUSE

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Word count: 840

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem reader (all my imagines are fem reader but there are no gendered terms in this one)

Note: I enjoy drawing and painting, so this might be a bit of a self-indulgent drabble haha

★ ────────────────── ★

Art supplies sat neatly on the table in front of you, each one ready to use. Pencils, sharpeners, erasers, and blending tools were laid out before you. Anything you could possibly need was within reach and at your disposal.

Hyunjin's sketchbook sat across from yours lying open on a blank page, his supplies lined up tidily beside the book. Your setup looked very similar; your pencil case was positioned beside your sketchbook, your own sharpener right beside it, as well as your eraser.

Hyunjin had some time off and so the two of you had planned to have a night of drawing together.

You watched as he grabbed his plastic headband and put it on, pulling his lengthy onyx hair away from his face, displaying his perfect features. He then grabbed his phone, humming to himself as he scrolled through his music library perusing the different genres and selecting a song to play before taking a seat across from you.

He gave you a gentle smile. "You ready to get started?"

"I am." You nodded.

You opened your sketchbook to an empty page, unzipping your pencil case and pulling one of them out. Unsure of what to draw, you sat idly for a few seconds, twiddling your pencil while waiting for inspiration to strike. That's when your eyes landed on the man sitting before you, already hard at work sketching across his page.

Your muse.

The tip of your freshly-sharpened pencil hit the page and you got to work, sketching out shapes and rough outlines, glancing up at Hyunjin every few seconds to make sure your draft matched the model.

The ball of your socked foot tapped against the carpet, matching the rhythm of the relaxing indie song that played from Hyunjin's Bluetooth speaker as you allowed yourself to get immersed in your work. All of your focus was zeroed in on the masterpiece in progress. The sketch was coming along well, though there was a couple times you had to keep erasing the lips and redrawing them because your sketch just wasn't doing justice to the real thing.

You loved this. Sitting peacefully while drawing with your loving boyfriend and listening to music was something you've been wanting to do with Hyunjin for a while. Even though there were no words being exchanged and you were both sitting in silence while concentrating on your own artworks, it was still absolutely perfect. One of the many things you loved about Hyunjin was being able to be in his presence and not having to say a word. Wether that be drawing, cuddling, or watching a movie. Just having him there was enough.

Your sketching ceased for a few seconds as you swapped out your pencil for one with darker lead so you could begin shading and darkening the lines of your drawing.

No more than thirty seconds later you were back to work, dragging the sharpened edge of the lead along the faded lines you'd roughly sketched out earlier.

"Relax, love." Hyunjin chuckled, pressing his thumb between your brows to smooth out the creases.

Your face relaxed under his touch as you let out a soft chuckle. "Sorry."

"You're really focused, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"That's cute." He murmured, his eyes lowering to your sketchbook which you were quick to cover with your hands.

"No peeking."

"Alright, alright." He chortled, picking up his pencil once again and proceeding with his sketch.

The supplies which had once been laid out neatly were now scattered across the table, each one being dropped without a care as to where it landed. Neither of you had time to gently place down each item once you were finished with it, you were far too focused on your sketches. An unknown amount of time had passed since you first sat down, both you and Hyunjin getting lost in your craft. You were so engrossed you didn't get a chance to see what he was drawing.

"Alright." You huffed out, pushing your hair away from your face. "I'm finished."

Hyunjin was quiet for a moment as he quick scribbled his signature at the corner of the page.

"Me too." He announced.

You held your masterpiece to your chest, not wanting him to see just yet.

"Are you ready?" You asked.

He nodded and you flipped the page around.

Hyunjin's brows raised as he took the paper from you so he could look at it closer.

"You drew me." He stated in awe.

"Of course I did. You're my muse."

He chuckled softly, handing you his drawing.

To your surprise, an image of you sitting and drawing was portrayed in shades of gray pencil lead.

The both of you were drawing each other without even knowing.

"You're my muse too." He mentioned.

Your eyes gazed over the sketch in awe, admiring his seamless shading and the way he captured your features so well. He truly was blessed with a talent for art.

"You made me look so beautiful." You murmured softly under your breath.

"Because you are beautiful, darling."

★ ────────────────── ★

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

★ ────────────────── ★

[blue-thief]

do you perhaps have some headcanons about mr. isagi? <3

OFC!! <3333

on top of having 2.0 vision (and well, metavision) his VVIQ score is a perfect 5

this helps him a lot with art and he's actually pretty good at it even though he's not as passionate about it as he is with football/soccer

he started drawing through doodling his favourite manga characters and he's able to recreate art styles almost perfectly

he's actually pretty careless when it comes to his schoolwork (esp for STEM) so sometimes he'll hand in incomplete work bc it looks like he's already filled in certain questions

like no. you doodled an eye instead of solving for "x"

he canonically hates science, but if he had to choose one branch as his favourite, it would be chemistry (not boring & derivative memorization like bio but not absolutely insane like physics)

something might contradict this in canon but i hc his handwriting is pretty shitty lmao

since so many sports anime characters look like him (nanase haruka, kageyama tobio, etc) i like to pretend they're all cousins and they meet up at family reunions to compete to see who's better at their respective sport

so yeah despite having no siblings he has a shit ton of cousins who he's really close to

he was conceived by accident 💀 his parents love and coddle him despite this

despite showing the exact opposite of the typical symptoms (great spacial awareness, scarily good empathy, etc) i still say he's got autism lmao. he just has a really unique type yk

his hobby is canonically walking, but i wanna expand on this a little bit

he somehow doesn't listen to music on his walks

(in fact, he doesn't listen to much music at all. that's why his fav song is from a commercial 💀)

furthermore, he rarely ever brings his phone out on walks at all. he likes being at one with his surroundings and he doesn't want his phone to distract him

which is understandable. unless we're talking about how he'll sometimes walk 2+ hours to go to a friends house AND HE DOESN'T HAVE IT?? NO GPS??? NO MAP NOTHING

he's just spent so much time walking around saitama he has a map of most of it installed in his mind

he really doesn't use his phone much at all. he has a few accounts in case he wants to check something out, but he doesn't post anything + barely follows anyone + even has a blank pfp on everything

he apparently received 0 valentine's chocolates in the previous year, but a few ppl from school had a crush on him

he's not popular or anything but some ppl over the years thought he was a genuinely sweet guy and quietly observed him from a distance

he's completely oblivious to this

his school friends all have way more romantic experience than him and they all tease him for this

he gets really frustrated about this and tries to convince himself he likes certain ppl in hopes of something sticking

when he genuinely likes someone he's oblivious to this too lmaoo

he's the type of guy to take dodgeball in PE wayyy too seriously

the first time he swore was when he was eight and got mad at his teammates for slacking off

he got in trouble for this and never swore in front of an adult ever again

(the lack of any physical adults in blue lock made him fall back on his foul mouth)

his fav class is PE in canon but i think i remember something about isagi hating baseball? that might have just been someone else's hc but yeah

he enjoys basketball and badminton, but he thinks volleyball is mid

the one time his school tried floor hockey he enjoyed it well enough

american football is just way too confusing for him

he had no backup plans in case football/soccer didn't work out, but he'd be fantastic in psychology and/or politics

[cherrysoojins]

८ bewitched , ateez laufey songs .

✉️. two of eight, jung wooyoung. from the start.

you had cupid on your shoulder and he couldn’t leave until he got jung wooyoung to fall in love with you.

&ㅤㅤ 📦 ♡ warnings. sfw, fluff, small mention of jongho if you read his story you will understand, suited for all ages, not proofread ( might have spelling errors ), let me know if any other warnings that should be added !

you had a little cupid on your shoulder.

and not just figuratively, either. you literally had a little man with wings, a diaper and a bow on your shoulders.

you were also not insane, though it one hundred percent sounds like you’re seeing things, you’re not. you were telling the complete honest truth, no lies. if anything, you really wish you were telling a lie because this thing– cupid– was a complete, utter annoyance to you.

you would think he would be helpful, but he is quite the opposite. granted that maybe he would help you on your college final exams and whisper you the answers when you needed help, and maybe he would conjure up some of the best tasting cookies known to man kind despite being the size of one, so maybe he was helpful in one aspect that wasn’t his actual job.

but when it did come to his actual job? he was absolutely unhelpful. and unfortunately, you can’t get this little guy to leave you alone until he completes his mission of finding you a lover.

“i just don’t get why my arrows don’t work on him.” cupid whined into your ear, his small body sitting on your shoulder as your hand scribbled down notes your professor had on the screen. luckily, you were in the back and the class was small, so most students gravitated towards the front, therefore none of them would be able to hear you conversing with cupid, who only you can see.

one thing to gather, cupid is stubborn. if he finds the perfect someone for his target, he will not give up on it. you’ve learned that the hard way.

cupid can’t leave you alone until he successfully matches you with someone, and jung wooyoung just absolutely would not fall in love with you.

cupid has been with you for years now. starting from your second year of high school when you realized you were in love with your best friend, wooyoung. and now he was still with you in your second year of college– you realized cupid might actually be with you for a lifetime trying to get jung wooyoung to fall into your arms.

arrow after arrow, spell after spell, book after book, cupid has been trying to figure out what was wrong. soulmates were not a thing everyone had, if you had a soulmate, cupid wouldn’t appear in front of that person like he does for you since they don’t need his help, so it’s obvious you don’t have a soulmate after his explanation of that. however, jung wooyoung didn’t either. therefore, cupid’s arrows should be working, so should his love potions, and according to his books there wasn’t anything he was doing wrong.

so why was jung wooyoung not falling in love with you?

“maybe you need new arrows.” you joked under your breath, loud enough for him to hear but making sure to not draw attention as you looked at him from the side of your eyes, going back to focus on your notes shortly after.

cupid froze on your shoulder, his eyes widening before he stood and pulled on your ear painfully hard, causing you to squeak and swat at your ear to get him off.

that earned some stares.

“sorry, fly.” you told the people who were affected by your squeal, getting a few nods in understanding before they turned back to their own notes. your own eyes traveled down to your notebook you slapped cupid onto.

“i never even thought of that!” he cheered joyously, clapping his small hands together as he stretched his angel wings out, peering up at you like you were the mythological creature that randomly entered his life.

you held back your smile, lightly brushing him to the side to get him off your notes so you could continue writing them.

“are you going to do that, then?” you inquired, not lifting your eyes from the notebook in front of you but still being able to see cupid nod vigorously in your peripheral vision. you couldn’t stop the smile from etching onto your face this time, holding up your pointer finger for him to high five.

cupid was sure as hell annoying, you swore he was annoying. but sometimes he was just an adorable little guy.

“i’ll be back before you know it!” cupid said, the underlying tone saying ‘i will be back with these arrows before you meet jung wooyoung later tonight at the cafe!’ before he vanished, leaving a dust of pink and silvery sparkles behind.

you shook your head with a smile, resting your chin on the back of your knuckles, writing your notes once again.

cupid was not back in time for the meeting in the cafe. in fact, your class that he disappeared in ended five hours ago and he still hasn’t shown up in front of you since. you’ve never gone at least thirty minutes without cupid, so this sensation of feeling alone was definitely new and it was totally getting to you as you fidgeted with your coffee in front of jung wooyoung.

the same jung wooyoung who you fell in love with in high school.

the same jung wooyoung who even cupid can’t make fall in love with you.

and the same jung wooyoung who was talking about this new girl saying she was totally perfect and blah, blah, blah. you didn’t want to listen to it anymore, the heavy feeling of your heart in your chest becoming too unbearable.

with cupid here, you had hope. it’s the way cupid would do everything in his power to throw arrows continuously at wooyoung in hopes that maybe one will work, or magically spawning a love potion out of thin air and pouring it in his drink– those kinds of things gave you hope that maybe something will work out.

but you’re on your own, without cupid. and now, you have no one to rely on.

“she sounds great,” you strained, bringing your coffee to your lips and taking a sip, looking out the window you two were seated at as you listened to the soft jazz playing in the background. through the window you could see the barista that served you and wooyoung your coffees openly flirting with a straight faced male across the counter.

even opposite of them was another couple feeding each other a pastry. that was a little much, but still.

couples were everywhere right now and right in front of you was the man you literally wanted to be a couple with.

it was like the world was teasing you, saying ‘you can’t have it, hahaha!’.

“does she?” wooyoung asked.

you nodded, pursing your lips as you looked back at him with a forced close lipped smile.

“she’s you.”

what.

“what?” you asked.

“what!” a voice piqued from your shoulder, which in the heat of the moment didn’t even scare you– you automatically knew it was cupid, who with no doubt probably had fresh new arrows he spent those five hours away from you working on.

wooyoung laughed, hiding his smile behind his hand as he threw his head back, leaning back on the dainty seat of the cafe chairs, shaking his head at the ceiling.

you stared at him, blatantly. literally with your jaw slightly unlocked, cupid having to use his small hands to push it up, then moving one from under your chin to push his own unlocked jaw shut.

“every time i talked about another girl, i’ve been describing you.” wooyoung told you once he sat up straight, putting his elbows on the table and leaning forward slightly, tilting his head at you with a smile.

cupid was sent into a frenzy at that sentence, hitting your shoulder and pulling at your ear as if he was throwing a tantrum (he was) but also coming to a realization.

“that’s why nothing worked! he loved you already!”

nothing worked because he was already in love with you. jung wooyoung already harbored feelings towards you. the potions, arrows, research books– all of it failed because they exist to make someone fall in love with you, but if jung wooyoung already loved you, obviously he would be immune to the affects of cupid’s abilities.

your heart fluttered, a smile overtaking your lips that you had to hide behind your hand, your gaze fluttering over to cupid who was now flying a couple of inches away from your shoulder, doing a small little happy dance.

all these years you spent with cupid trying to make this man fall in love with you… you want to say it was all worthless. but it wasn’t.

a silent ‘thank you’ was portrayed through your gaze, knowing if you said anything to the small flying man, wooyoung would probably think you’re insane and you weren’t risking him losing any feelings for you because you ‘talk to air’.

cupid smiled back at you, a happy, sentimental smile.

“for how long?” you turned your attention back to wooyoung, dropping your hand down to hold them against your cup of coffee.

“from the start.”

and with that, you could see the pink dust and silvery sparkles in the corner of your eyes.

cupid finally found you someone.

full bewitched series masterlist !

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[centipedelightning]

Hobbies pt.2

pt. 1 came out months and months ago and I just haven't wanted to write up pt. 2. well here it is! once again everyone say thank you toni (@tyrannydarling) for the help coming up with these.

| Underswap & Swapfell || fluff |

Hobbies: pt. 1 | you are here | pt. 3 | pt. 4

Blue

The biggest one is hiking.

Blue is super into anything that has to do with spending time outdoors. He will spend Hours looking up new trails to hike.

As an extension of that, he is also really into foraging. He has books upon books about safe foraging and what is available in the area.

It was a trial by fire though. He didn't realize things can have highly dangerous lookalikes. After he fed his brother a meal with a lookalike, the night of non-stop vomiting that followed served as a sizable warning for the future.

Stretch now requires proof of safety for everything Blue finds after The Incident.

He is also into birdwatching! He's more casual about it than his other interests, but he likes being able to recognize birds and bird-songs

Blue picked up scrapbooking on the surface once his brother started getting into photography. It's a bonding session for the two of them to collaborate and make a book to commemorate their hike(s).

For a less outdoorsy theme, Blue is also into jigsaw puzzles. He even got a fancy table made for doing puzzles as a Giftmas gift one year.

He's not the Best at them, so a basic 1000-piece will take him a few weeks off and on.

Stretch

He got into photography on the surface.

Stretch was browsing a random small thrift when a vintage film camera caught his eye. Cameras didn't usually make it into the Underground Dump in good shape, so he decided to splurge.

He bought it, found what film he needed, and got to work.

Initially, he only really took practice pictures around the house or at the local parks, but once Blue succeeded in dragging him on a hike, he got more into it.

He does a lot of macro stuff on the hikes. One scrapbook he and Blue work on is just of bugs they find.

Blue is the one that came up with the scrapbooking idea, but Stretch is the one that started stepping up the creativity game and bought the fancy paper, stickers, and stamps.

He makes a lot of friendship bracelets.

His favorite design is the zig-zag but he's good at pretty much everything.

Stuffed animals!

He loves making plushes and has made them since Blue was a babybones. He referenced a few Surface biology books he found in the Dump to make a sea turtle for himself and a rabbit for Blue's 6th birthday.

Indigo

Indi is closest to blue personality-wise, so it is only natural he has a similarly outdoorsy hobby and that's beachcombing!

Underground he used to spend a lot of his free time in Waterfall training with Alphys so he developed a taste for the water.

He isn't very good at swimming but loves to spend hours on the shoreline looking for anything interesting.

He has a Massive shell collection meticulously organized.

He is subscribed to magazine upon magazine about beaches and the latest in beachcombing news.

On the topic of collections, he is an uber-nerd about rocks and has an equally large collection of cool rocks and crystals.

He has taken a number of trips with his brother to rock shows (no matter how far away)

He likes making little crafts with the rejects from his collections.

If he finds a rock or shell in better condition than what he has in the main collection, he'll replace it and use the old item for things like jewelry and decor.

A notorious baker.

Notorious in what way? That's for everyone else to find out.

In all honesty, he's not too bad. The icings might be overwhipped and the cheesecakes a bit curdled but the flavors are actually quite nice.

Strangely enough, he is masterful at making the perfect puff pastry.

Cash

Gambling.

I'm kidding. kinda.

Making money is his life's mission, not his hobby.

His actual hobby is drawing.

He becomes a tattoo artist on the Surface, so having skills in traditional and digital art is important and he has it!

He does a lot of illustrative stuff that happened to translate well into tattooing.

He used to offer to draw Monster's portraits for a few G when he was younger.

Cash has an extraordinary amount of free time so every once in a while he offers commissions online.

On the Surface, he also picks up stained glass.

Initially, it was just a time waster. He picked up a little kit from a craft store and got hooked from there.

He really likes making super personalized window hangers as gifts. Indigo got a beach scene for one birthday that has hung in his room since receiving it.

He wasn't expecting to like it very much, but it only took a few months before he started getting himself some nicer equipment.

There is now a small setup in the garage with his fancy sanders and saw.

Indi installed a nice shelving system to organize all of Cash's glass panes as a gift.

[taurussbabe]

Hello! Love yours fic and was wondering about a request, with mason. With lots of fluff!☺️

Where reader is from a different country and mason secretly has learn how to speak reader’s language and surprise reader. it's perfectly fine to change and write however you want!

Surprise

about... it's in the request☝️🧸 pairing: mason mount x Italian!fem! reader word count: 1.3k a/n: Hope you like it anon! Had so much fun writing this one 🫶

Mason leaned against the door frame of your shared home and watched as you sat in the couch, talking to your family over the phone, you smiled and laughed happily over something they said. He couldn’t understand what they were saying nor what you were replying, but judging by the way you were laughing he could understand that you were definitely happy.

You turned around and noticed he was standing there so you called him over, which caused him to smile and walk towards the couch as you turned your phone to him so your family could see him as well.

“Hi guys” he waved towards the phone and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

You watched as he talked to your family, way too focused on the conversation to even notice you staring at him. His smile widening over something your mom had said, his hand subconsciously resting on your thigh, drawing tiny little circles on it, making butterflies emerge on your stomach, it’s crazy to think that after all this time he still had that effect on you.

Your mom pulled you out of your trance when she asked you help translating something to your non-English-speaker grandma. You felt mason’s gaze on yourself while doing so and when you turned to him you noticed his proud smile.

You were fluent in English and so was most of your family, yet your grandparents and some ants and uncles weren’t, which meant you sometimes had translate everything to mason and then to your family, sometimes it was tiring but it was all worthed when you saw your family and your boyfriend connecting.

Mason was also aware of how lucky he was, because even though you were Italian you spoke perfect English, always being able to connect with his family. Since you lived together in England, you naturally spent more time with his family than yours, yet mason always made it a priority to go with you to see them or to welcome them whenever they came to England.

Once your call reached the end mason pulled you close to him, hugging you tightly. The pair of you breathing was the only sound that could be heard in the room. You switched positions so you were now laying comfortably between his legs, your head resting on his chest as you felt his heartbeat against your ear. His hands softly brushing your hair as he gently hummed a song. You kissed his chest and he let out a chuckle at the sight of you, all curled up against him.

There and then he promised himself that he would try to learn some Italian for you, it was the least he could do, considering everything you did for him and his family. He looked down and saw you sleeping peacefully, his heart fluttered at the sight and he reached over to grab his phone, snaping a picture of you in the process, then installing some app to learn Italian.

.

“Love, are you ready?” you heard from downstairs.

“Yes, I’m coming” you answered, going down the stairs as you, unsuccessfully, trying to bring your bag down with you.

“Let me help.” he grabbed the bag and brought it downstairs “Here, are you ready to go?”

“Yup” he kissed the tip of your nose “Let’s go, I have a surprise for you when we get there.”

“A surprise?” you asked excited.

“Yes, love, so let’s go, we don’t want to miss our plane.”

.

“Ciao” hi - you said as you hugged your dad, while mason offered a flower bouquet to your mom.

“Ciao. Come stai?” hi. how are you? - mason asked leaving both you and everyone else around you speechless.

“Mason, what did you just say?” you asked still skeptical of what he had just said.

“Ho salutato e chiesto come stavano” I said hi and ask how they were - he spoke in a broken Italian, yet it still made your heart warm.

“You learned how to speak Italian?”

“Si...questa è stata la sorpresa” yes…that was the surprise.

“What? When? Why?”

“Well, I figured it was about time to learn Italian, I mean it’s your native language and you deserve it.”

“God, I love you” you kissed his cheek and whispered low on his year, in a way only he could hear “I can’t kiss you properly now, but I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight” you saw a slight tint appear in his cheeks before greeting the rest of his family.

.

You were doing your typical night routine when mason walked in the bathroom, shirtless, wrapping his arms around your waist, and kissed your cheek. “Did you like my surprise?”

“I loved it! When did you even had time to learn?” you turned around, kissing his lips ever so lightly, one hand resting on his cheek.

“I had some free time with the injury now, so I learned a bit, it’s still not perfect, but now that you know, you can help me learn more.” He kissed your lips and all the way down to your neck “If you want to, of course”

“I would love to, and I’m so proud of you for learning Italian for me!”

“Well, not just for you, don’t let it get to your head, darling. I also learned it for you family so I can talk to them without you having to translate it every time.”

You smiled at him, completely in awe of him, because how could you not? The man standing in front of you was gorgeous, had the best heart and the best part, he was all yours. You pulled his hand and led him to the bed, you pushed him down, so he was sitting on it. You felt his hands at your waist, pulling on top of him. “I said I would make it up to you tonight, didn’t I?” you took off your top and kissed that sweet spot on his neck causing him to moan before you placed your lips on his, kissing all the way to his ear, whispering delicately “Now, you have to be quiet because you don’t want my family to hear you, do you?”

“You’re such a tease, love” he kissed your neck too, all the way down to your chest before rolling you over, so he was on top of you now.

.

You rolled over, eyes still closed as you searched for the warmth of the body next to you, yet you found nothing. With opened eyes now, you realized you were in bed alone, but you soon heard laughter coming from the kitchen, causing you to get up, realizing you were still naked due to last night activities, so you quickly put on some clothes and went to the kitchen.

“Buongiorno bella” good morning beautiful - you heard mason say.

This mason was a different mason than the one from last night. This one was the perfect son in law, nice and kind and good to their daughter. This mason was helping your mom make breakfast, her teaching him Italian words and sentences and him paying full attention to her. You loved the sight in front of you and how mason was always so attentive to your family members and yourself. You made your way towards the kitchen island and kissed both your mom and mason on the cheek, which caused your mom to chuckle and make a comment to the pair of you.

“You kids know you can kiss in front of me, right? I mean, are you not gonna kiss in your wedding, I’m gonna be there too.” You choked on your drink, but mason just laughed, your send mason a wide eye look and that just made him laugh more.

“Nozze? chi ha parlato di matrimonio?” wedding? Who talked about marriage?

“l'ho fatto, sai che voglio sposarti un giorno” I did, you know I want to marry you someday - the comment made you smile wide and continue to eat so you could hide the blush on your cheeks.

Your mom laughed at the pair of you as the rest of the family arrived and mason took it as an opportunity to practice his Italian. You couldn't help but to steal glances at him every so often, you were truly so smitten for that guy.

[lattaeyongs]

the trojan horse (hrj): teaser

original gif

↳ pairing: huang renjun x reader

↳ teaser word count: 1.7k

↳ genre: royalty!au, historical (late 1700s)!au, heavy angst, fluff, smut (will go under major revisions before posting)

↳ summary: in which the boy you fall in love with isn’t who you think he is.

↳ teaser warnings: political unrest, may contain historical inaccuracies

1788

Today, you would be meeting the Prince of Neo, Huang Renjun. Neo is a small kingdom that neighbors your kingdom, and they are known for their ample craftsman class who commission some of the finest weapons and are the source of skilled fighters which could be of advantage if they have a suitable marriage alliance.

As much as you hated being auctioned off like an antique vase, it was something that couldn’t be helped as a royal woman, particularly the princess of the largest kingdom around, Ambrosia. You only hope that this Huang Renjun isn’t like the other suitors you have met, who are snooty and stuck up, ruthless as if they are miniature versions of your father. More importantly, you wish that they won’t cast you aside, using you as a pawn to get their hands on the better prize, the Kingdom of Ambrosia, the largest kingdom in the area.

There’s already tension in the air when you are escorted by your mother and lady’s maids into the drawing room where you first lay eyes on Huang Renjun.

His raven-colored hair is neatly gelled and combed, and his skin is pale in contrast. He stands up politely at your presence, and you get a good look at his clothing: rich, exactly what you expect for a royal from another kingdom. He wears red robes with delicate, intricate yellow designs, and you suspect the material is velvet. He has white frills at his neck, and milky white socks that compliment the black shoes at his feet, which have a gold flower at the center of the foot to match the gold designs on his robes. 

He is also observing you with the same tenacity as you do with him: You’re wearing a crown of pink flowers on your head, which matches the pink flowers on your sky-blue dress. Your skirt is large and trails at your behind, which shows your royal standing, and the sky-blue sleeves of your dress slowly become white lace as his eyes follow from your shoulders to your wrists. The sleeves of your dress are cone-like, and the edges are able to reach your knees. 

For a few seconds, you meet Renjun’s gaze. His eyes are a beautiful dark brown, and they offer you a friendly look, which puts your heart at slight ease. 

“Princess Y/N, this is Renjun, Prince of Neo,” your mother introduces in a voice that made it seem like she has known Prince Renjun for a long time (which she hasn’t).

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, your Highness,” Renjun says. His voice is absolutely magnificent, song-like, and dreamy. He steps forward and bends down on one knee, taking your right hand and kissing the back of it. 

His lips feel warm against your skin. 

There are a few other men by Renjun’s side. There are his personal guards, who came with him on the five-hour carriage ride from his castle to yours, and another man in fine clothing, someone you failed to notice due to your observant study of Huang Renjun. 

“And this is the King of Neo,” your mother continues, gesturing. He bows down and takes the time to bend down and kiss your mother’s hand (which has her bubbling with pleasant, polite words) and your hand, which you give a curt greeting. His black robe shuffles as he steps back, and you study Renjun side-by-side with his father. 

“Pleased to meet you, Your Highnesses,” he says. 

A few maids come in bearing silver trays piled with bite-sized sandwiches, in the shape of a pyramid. You and your mother take one, while Renjun and his father take one each, all four of you being overly courteous to the help in an effort to keep appearances. 

“Your daughter looks like a lovely young lady, perfect for my Renjun,” the King of Neo comments, giving your mother a gracious smile. “So elegant and full of grace, she will make a fine queen and wife, Your Highness,” he addresses your mother. 

“Thank you for your kind words,” Your mother responds back, her eyes crinkling as a part of her practiced genuine smile. “May I escort you to the King? He has some matters that he would like to discuss with you.” 

“Of course, my good lady,” the King of Neo responds back courteously. Your mother leads the way out of the room, and a few maids look like they are going to follow her, to make sure that she is okay, but she only needs to give a flick of her wrist for them to disperse back into the drawing room. Now, you and Renjun are alone, except for the help, but they don’t count as ‘people.’ You’re grateful that your mother has left you both alone because you absolutely hate being chaperoned during meets with suitors – it makes you more nervous having that extra company. That just shows how important this alliance is for the Kingdom that your mother understands your weakness and tries to put you on the best possible foot to make a good performance for Huang Renjun.

“Please have a seat,” you say to Renjun, gesturing at the plush pink-and-green sofa that he abandoned when you entered the room. There is a small ottoman opposite of the sofa, and there is a glass table in between with the pyramid of sandwiches that the maid brought a few minutes ago. You’re ready to bring up something about the weather and other practiced lines you have prepared for occasions like this when something catches your eye on the table, a leather-bound book. It is a copy of The Oresteia by Aeschylus. You remember reading it back when you were still being taught by a governess. 

“Excellent choice,” you start off, gesturing to the volume on the table.

Renjun smiles at you, a pretty sight just as beautiful as his voice. 

“Thank you. You have a wonderful library, larger than the one I have at home,” he says in awe. The library room is in the next room, and it is dark and paneled with fine wood; it would not be a good choice to meet a suitor, for it is a major turn-off if a woman is too well-educated, enough that she would love books more than making an heir for the family.

Personally, the library room is your favorite room in the house.

“You don’t have Oresteia in your library?”

“No,” Renjun says sheepishly. “It’s been on my list of books to read for a long time, but I just haven’t had the chance to get a copy with all the suitors my father forc–” Renjun suddenly stops, realizing who he is talking to. His face turns into a bright beet red, thinking that he has messed up more than he ever thought he could.

Your face doesn’t shrivel with offense the way Renjun thought it would. He met a royal woman once who after he said he didn’t like blueberry scones, escorted him out of her castle. Instead, he is greeted by a smile. You experienced the same feeling.

“It’s okay,” you say lightly. “I wasn’t exactly that happy to meet you too.” You’re glad that your mother isn’t chaperoning, or anyone in your Court is either because hearing those words from your mouth would earn you a slap across your face. ‘A lady isn’t supposed to tell someone what she thinks,’ you can hear your mother’s and governess’ voices ringing in your ears (they practically had the same voice… all high-class women had a high pitch, sultry yet innocent voice). 

Renjun finds your words refreshing; this is the first time he’s met a royal who actually says what she thinks, and that sort of directness is what he craves in someone – he hates having to analyze every little word in a woman’s sentence in order to find out what she truly means.

“How far are you?” You ask. 

“Not very,” Renjun sighs. “I wished you came later so I would have had more time to read.” You titter a little, and Renjun is glad that he is able to see a real, genuine smile from you.

“But Clytemnestra’s lover has just killed King Agamemnon.” You nod, remembering how shocked you were when you read that part. You’re trying to think of something to say that will contribute to the conversation when Renjun’s voice becomes lower. 

“Do you think he deserved it?” 

Initially, you’re not sure if you should answer the question. On one hand, you do want to answer the question because you can’t believe that you have a suitor who wants to intelligently discuss literature with you, a complete dream that you can’t believe is happening in real life, but there is another part of you that wants to follow your mother’s advice she gave you a long time ago when it came to meeting suitors: to not let him know too much about your opinions too early. 

“I apologize,” Renjun says hesitantly. He just broke all rules when it comes to meeting suitors. He is also not supposed to ask questions like these. It was okay to ask, ‘What do you think the author meant by this event?’ but not what a woman thought about the event herself.

“You don’t have to,” you say more confidently. “I think I understand Clytemnestra’s fury. Imagine finding out that your daughter was sacrificed so that your husband can help his brother get his wife back. There’s a line that has to be drawn between your family and someone else’s family, and Agamemnon failed to do so. Menelaus had other allies from various kingdoms that could help him, and Agamemnon could help in other ways than sacrificing his eldest daughter to Artemis. But Iphigenia only had Agamemnon. She was his daughter. He was supposed to protect her. He wasn’t supposed to auction her off to her death. So he must pay with his life,” you explain rationally.

Renjun is pretty sure that you’re not only talking about Oresteia anymore. And he’s right. Maybe you feel a little like Iphigenia, but the free will that you are sacrificing is for the good of your kingdom and not someone else’s. 

The way you passionately discussed literature was endearing to Renjun. He didn’t want to be stuck with a bimbo for the rest of his life, who was only interested in parties and pleasure. You have substance. 

The two of you continue to discuss other Ancient Greek literature since much of the literature includes myths that are implicitly referenced in other works that people in those days would have understood. The conversation is entertaining, and you freely give your opinion and Renjun does the same, and you appreciate the candidness more than anything in the world.

“I’m glad for one thing,” you say during the conversation.

Renjun raises an eyebrow. 

“That the Greek Gods don’t meddle in our lives.”