#I love this little dude so much it's unreal

[everlasting-evocation]

I love getting stuck in this game because the little weirdo will just stand there wiggling ever so slightly.

Bro I'm sorry I can't complete your puzzles don't look at me with those soulless eyes.

[darlingghoulette]

blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so

Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.

Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.

Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.

Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 

Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 

Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.

Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 

Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 

It was the proverbial straw. 

“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”

Nothing. 

“HEY!”

He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 

Silence rang for a beat.

Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 

The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 

Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 

Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 

It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.

But, see. That just gave him an idea. 

Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 

“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 

He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 

“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 

“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”

It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 

“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.

“Yeah?” 

“Can you come here?” 

The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.

“You tired?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine--”

“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 

There was a countdown, three, two, one...

A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 

“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”

“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 

Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 

“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 

Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.

God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 

Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 

Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 

“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 

“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”

“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 

“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 

“You guys, let’s just go already,” 

“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 

The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 

It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.

What can he say? He’s a weak man. 

“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 

“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 

A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 

The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 

The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 

[kaciebello]

Trust fund babies

Masterlist Money mail ☼ Slytherin boys x Hufflepuff!reader (fem) Summary: Can you belive it? The solution was there all along Warnings: no use of y/n Authors note: I love fun fairs so much it's unreal word count: 1.7k Song: THIRLL RIDE - THE BOYS

The teens were sitting around the denying table in Theodore's house. Looking at the money they have accumulated over the summer. They have gathered all the coins they could find. However, in front of them stood 4k. Exact half of what they needed for the bouncy house. All their effort was wasted, as they had not reached their goal.

“Maybe we can make the other 4k,” Says Matteo, training to be optimistic, but failing miserably.

“Dude, we have two weeks to start of new term. We made 4 thousand in two months. I don't think we can make it.” Blaise argus back. Demoted they all sat and just stared at the money, as if it could multiply. Enzo was carrying the girl back as if trying to comfort her. They all sat in silence for like ten minutes before the girl shot up.

“I know what we can do!” She yells and shoves all the money to her. The boys watch her closely. Sound in their eyes.

“We may not be able to buy a water bouncy house. But I know a place that has water and adrenaline.” She says. A smirk on her face. She runs to get her bag and comes back just as quickly. Digging into it as if trying to find something. Draco sees a little circular motion next to his head, trying to signal to his friends that the girl has gone a little bit crazy.

“AHA!” She cheers and pulls out a brochure. Smiling on the table. The boys finally have a chance to look at it. A fun fair.

“What,” Theodore says, snatching it and looking at it closely.

Theodore squinted at the colourful brochure in his hands, trying to make sense of the girl’s sudden enthusiasm. The glossy images showed roller coasters, spinning teacups, water slides, and neon lights. The words “Summer Fun Fair” were emblazoned across the top in bold, bright letters.

“A fun fair?” Theodore asked, raising an eyebrow. “How’s that supposed to replace a bouncy house?”

The girl grinned, practically bouncing with excitement. “It’s not just any fun fair! This one has everything—water rides, roller coasters, games, even a haunted house! And the best part is, it’s just a few hours away, and with the money we’ve got, we can get passes for all of us. We’ll have way more fun there than with a bouncy house.”

Blaise leaned forward, intrigued but sceptical. “But we spent all summer scraping together that money for the bouncy house. Are we really going to blow it all on a day at a fair?”

“Think about it, Blaise,” the girl said, her eyes shining. “We’ve been stressing about this bouncy house for weeks. But why do we need it? We wanted it because it was something big, something epic we could all do together before the school year started. This fair has everything we need for that. Water, adrenaline, and fun. Plus, it’s not just one thing; it’s a whole day of crazy adventures.”

Enzo, who had been quietly considering the idea, finally spoke up. “She’s got a point. I mean, we’ve already done so much together this summer. Why not end it with something spontaneous? We’ve got the cash, and it’s better than letting it sit around.”

Matteo, who had been the most disappointed earlier, started to brighten up. “And it’s got water rides, you say?”

The girl nodded enthusiastically. “And not just any water rides—giant slides, log flumes, wave pools, you name it. Plus, they’ve got games, food, and all the fair stuff. It’s perfect.”

Theodore, still holding the brochure, looked at his friends. He could see the excitement building in their faces, the idea of a spontaneous trip to the fair starting to take hold. Finally, he sighed and put the brochure back on the table. “Alright, I’m in. It does sound like fun. And maybe we can win some cool prizes while we’re at it.”

Draco, who had been leaning back in his chair with a smirk, finally spoke. “Sounds better than staring at money all day. I say we go for it.”

Blaise looked around the table at his friends, seeing the shift in their attitudes. He cracked a smile. “Alright, let’s do it. But we’re going to make the most of it. No holding back.”

The girl clapped her hands in excitement. “Yes! This is going to be epic! We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning and spend the whole day there.”

The room buzzed with energy as the teens started making plans, their earlier disappointment forgotten. The idea of the bouncy house had been fun, but this—this was going to be an adventure they wouldn’t forget.

The next morning, the group gathered at Theodore’s house, buzzing with excitement. The girl had packed snacks, water bottles, and sunscreen into her bag, ready for the long day ahead. Matteo showed up with a huge grin, carrying a cooler filled with drinks. Draco, as always, looked effortlessly cool in sunglasses, while Enzo and Blaise were busy discussing the best rides to hit first.

“Everyone ready?” the girl asked, adjusting the straps of her bag. She was in charge of the money and made sure to enchant a secret pocket in her bag that held all of it.

The boys nodded, their energy infectious. Theodore pulled out his car keys and jingled them. “The car’s gassed up, and I’ve got the directions. It’s about a two-hour drive, so if anyone needs to use the bathroom, now’s the time.”

“Can't we just apparate?” Draco asks, not very fond of the idea of a car. 

“ Wheres the fun in that,” Theodore smirks much to Draco's dismay.

They all piled into Theodore’s car, squishing together with bags and coolers crammed in the trunk. The ride was filled with chatter, music blaring from the speakers, and the occasional off-key singalong, mostly from Mattheo. The excitement in the air was palpable, their earlier disappointment replaced with anticipation.

As they approached the fairgrounds, the first thing they noticed was the massive Ferris wheel towering over the horizon, its lights twinkling even in the daylight. The fair was already bustling with activity, colourful tents and banners stretching out as far as they could see.

“Whoa,” Matteo breathed out, leaning forward to get a better look. “This place is huge!”

Theodore parked the car, and they all tumbled out, eager to get started. The girl led the way, practically skipping toward the entrance as they handed over their tickets.

Inside, the fair was even more impressive. The air was filled with the scent of popcorn, cotton candy, and fried dough. Laughter and screams echoed from the rides, and the vibrant colours of the games and attractions seemed to pulse with energy.

“Alright, where to first?” Blaise asked, looking around with wide eyes.

“There,” the girl said, pointing to a massive water slide that twisted and turned before ending in a giant splash. “We start with the water rides and then hit the coasters. That way we can dry faster.”

“Let’s do it!” Enzo cheered, grabbing her hand and leading the charge.

They spent the first hour soaking themselves on the water rides, laughing as they splashed down into cool pools of water. After the water rides, they moved on to the roller coasters. The thrill of the loops, drops, and high speeds had them all screaming in exhilaration. Theodore screamed like a girl when he was caught off guard by a sudden sharp turn and ended up gripping the safety bar for dear life, much to the others’ amusement. He claims it everyone heard wrong, and it was Draco who let out the scream.

The day passed in a blur of adrenaline, laughter, and good-natured teasing. They played games, won stuffed animals and silly prizes, and stuffed themselves with fair food until they could hardly move. As the sun began to set, the fairgrounds were illuminated with a sea of neon lights, giving the place a magical glow.

By the time they reached the Ferris wheel, the group was exhausted but happy. They climbed into the seats, three on each side, and the wheel slowly lifted them into the air. From the top, they could see the entire fair, the lights twinkling below like stars.

“This turned out better than I thought,” Theodore admitted, leaning back against the seat, a rare smile on his face.

“Yeah,” Blaise agreed, looking out at the view. “Way better than a bouncy house.”

The girl, sitting beside Enzo, looked around at her friends, her heart swelling with contentment. “I told you it would be worth it.”

As the Ferris wheel slowly descended, the group fell into a comfortable silence, each of them savouring the moment. They might not have gotten the bouncy house they’d worked so hard for, but what they’d gained was something much better—an unforgettable adventure, shared with the best friends they could ask for.

As the night came to a close, they all knew that this summer, despite its ups and downs, would be one they’d always remember.

—

Two weeks later all the Slytherins were sitting in the train at their designated space. Hogwarts Express was as crowded as always. New years were walking up and down, trying to find a place to sit. Pansy stopped by and asked them about their summer, before any of them could answer she went on to tell them how she spent hers lounging on some remote island her parents own. Luna has stopped by as well to say hi to Blaise before bouncing off to a different adventure.

Mattheo spots the girl first. Raised eyebrows. None of them expects to see her until Hogwarts, lets her catch up with all her other friends and fellow Hufflepuff. Angry expression on her face, she stops before them and leans on the table.

“ Hello, love.” Enzo sounds, not moved by her face, still gazing up at her lovingly.

“Did you know.” she starts, making her they were listening to her closely. “I have talked to Hermoniey.”

“Why would you do that?”

“ Shut up”

“Okay”

Glaring at all of them, as if whatever she was about to tell them was their fault.

“Did you know, that you can, in fact, exchange galleons for pounds?” The show has appeared on their faces. Disbelief. Sighs of anger and disappointment. Enzo scooches over so the girl can sit down. Squishing Draco to the window a little bit

“So we could-”

“Yep”

“damn,” Silence falls upon the group. all the them complementing life. Empty stares on their faces. It was like the world died. Until Mattheo speaks up.

“At least we have Betsy.” He says and pulls out a Chinese takeout container. Opening it, inside is a small cow ready to be sneaked into Hogwarts.

Previous Chapter

Taglist @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @deluluassapocalypse , @adreamingpendulum, @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo , @happydragonfrog , @harvey-malfoy , @helendeath , @caffeine-addict-slug , @mrvlfanman , @pink-heartz , @feistyfox47 , @nickspotatoesalad , @elltheawkward , @myunperfektstorys . @mxryxmfooty , @hoeforvinniehackerrr

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (04)

chapter four: spring daffodils

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; a creepy dude but nothing happens, err this chapter is pretty mild? idk, not very edited (i apologize, i just live like this lol) word count: 3.5k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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It was bittersweet You were like a dream And I was your girl on the passenger seat Right next to you We were unstoppable We thought we had it all

I’d Do It Again - Violette Wautier

The first thing you feel when you wake up is Minho’s arms, wrapped tightly around you. Your face in the crook of his neck, your legs tangled up together. It’s as though this is your millionth morning waking up with him.

He’s still fast asleep, soft puffs of air escaping his lips. So peaceful, so ethereal with the light from outside your window shining on his side profile.

He looks like an angel, absolutely unreal, that you can’t help but admire him. How the playful sunshine kisses his sculpted nose, caresses his cheeks, its particles of light lingering on his pink and pouty lips. Every feature, every single detail of his face, beautiful. Sharp, stunning, flawless. The universe really took its time with him.

You'd say that this is a pretty objective opinion. Ask anyone and they would concur. You don’t think you could ever get tired of looking at Minho.

There’s a sudden urge that grows in you - the selfish need to be the sun itself. You want to be the sun, to be the reason why there’s warmth and light in his life, to give him nothing but good things, nothing less than what he deserves.

Your axis shifts. It’s overwhelming just how much you want to be good for him.

Minho is supposed to be your friend.

You don’t think you’re supposed to feel this way about your friend.

The beautiful boy next to you stirs, and you instantly shut your eyes. You wait as he stretches a bit, then he holds you tighter, closer, the proximity making tears well up behind your closed eyelids. It’s so nice just being in his arms like this. So wonderful and so right.

You feel loved, even if it may not be the kind of love that you’ve been searching for.

A gentle hand strokes your hair, and just that simple action is enough to make you melt, a tightness tugging at your heartstrings all of a sudden.

If Minho was a season, he would be spring. Beautiful and heavenly spring. Some may argue that it can’t possibly be the case because people often view him as callous and mean, and you hate it every time anyone speaks about him that way. They don’t know him like you do, and he’s been nothing but warm and kind to you for as long as you’ve known him.

To be more precise, Minho would be the onset of spring, when the brutal and lonely winter eventually has to make way for the beginning of a new season. It’s a subtle transition, a gentle inauguration of warmth where the earth welcomes life into its open arms again. When daylight starts to last longer and snow begins to melt in between cobblestone cracks. When buds on trees start growing into their luscious green coat and flowers slowly burst through their roof of soil to bring forth colors for spring. Everything is soft and delicate, easy to overlook if you don’t pay close attention.

That’s what Minho is to you - a new beginning. Calming, welcoming, steady.

You want to snuggle further into the heat of his body but you’re afraid it might blow your cover, so you keep on staying still. He’s close, closer than you two have ever been when you aren't having sex, but it’s not enough. If it was possible, you would wrap you and him up in your own little bubble where the concept of time is foreign and you could stay here forever. You wouldn’t have to go back to your boring routine and deal with the stresses that you’ve been carrying all your life.

It’s like a switch has been flipped. You want more. It’s a fleeting thought, but the imprint it leaves behind isn’t ephemeral at all.

A simple life with Minho and the spring. That doesn’t sound too bad.

Min: wyd tomorrow afternoon? You: i have to go buy paint after class. Why? Min: can i come with :(  You: u wanna go look at paint with me for 2 hrs? Min: no lol Min: i cleared my whole afternoon because kim seungmin asked me to go suit shopping with him for his sister’s wedding but he’s ditching me, so i have no idea what to do Min: you’re my last option You: thanks. i’m v flattered You: hyunjin refused to entertain you? Min: don’t like him You: 🙄 You: chan? changbin? jisung? jeongin? lix? there’s no way they’re ALL busy Min: i didn’t ask. don’t like them either You: so i’m not your LAST option then Min: no. but you’re the only one i’d rather hang out with You: you’re weird Min: so tomorrow? You: the store is a bit far away though Min: i can take you. i’ll borrow chan’s car

You assume that Minho would pick you up right after your class finishes since he told you that he was free all day, but you still end up having to wait for him while wandering aimlessly around campus, the messages that you sent him sitting in your phone delivered but not read.

He appears about twenty minutes later than you thought he would, rolling up in Chan’s new car that he just got a couple months ago. You get into the vehicle with an unimpressed look on your face, clicking the seatbelt into place before you turn to him in the driver's seat.

“Punctual,” you comment pointedly.

“Sorry. I went to that cafe you like but there was a line.”

“Oh,” you say, your earlier annoyance waning quickly when you notice the cup holders between the two of you. “Why did you go all the way there just for shitty matcha lattes? We could’ve just gone to the campus cafe for that.”

Minho grabs a paper bag from the backseat before he places it neatly in your lap like a little present. "But the campus cafe doesn’t have those overpriced croissants that you’re always raving about."

You stare at the baked good in your lap - an almond croissant filled with cream cheese and strawberries. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you say. “But thank you.”

Minho looks at you. “You forgot to eat lunch again, didn’t you?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because you’re looking at that thing like you’re deeply in love with it.”

You roll your eyes before plucking a cream cheese-covered strawberry from the bag and taking a bite, dramatically throwing your head back as you sigh in exasperation, “I might be deeply in love with you right now.”

When you finish the strawberry, you turn to look at Minho, only to find him already staring at you with his sharp eyes. He holds your gaze for a few seconds, then brings a hand up to brush away a dot of cream cheese off the corner of your mouth. You half expect him to put the finger in his mouth like hot fictional characters tend to do, and yet, your cheeks still catch fire when Minho meets your expectation.

He catches sight of your flush but doesn’t throw you a teasing comment or anything of the likes. Instead, he just chuckles - a bit endeared if you can say so yourself - and starts the car.

Minho is gracious enough to let you choose the music for the drive and in turn, you offer him the last piece of your cherished croissant (everyone knows the last bite is the best bite), plopping the pastry into his mouth while he keeps his hands on the wheel, only for him to complain that it has too much cream.

When you get to the art supply store, Minho picks up a basket by the door. The store isn’t that big, but they have the best selection out of all the other places you’ve been. Hyunjin keeps telling you to come to the store that he frequents - the one that sells those fancy watercolors that you don’t really need - but you’ve been going here for ages. You used to live nearby so it was more convenient, but this is still your go-to spot even after you moved closer to campus. The sense of familiarity associated with this quaint store isn’t something you’re quite ready to let go of yet.

You peruse the aisles alongside Minho, who dutifully carries the basket for all of your things without you even asking. He doesn’t really try to make conversation while you study the colors, which is a little uncharacteristic but you don’t think much about it. He just quietly watches you, and you like how even the silence is comfortable between the two of you.

After a while, he asks, “Do you have a theme in mind?”

You do, but you think it’s a little silly to say out loud so you don’t. Although you know Minho would never make you feel small or diminish your ideas, it’s not something that you’re really keen on sharing at the moment.

“Kind of,” you say. “It’s not fully fleshed out yet. I know what colors I want to go for though.”

You meticulously pick out the acrylics you want for your painting, mostly dark and dull tones. You have a vision of what you want to achieve on the canvas, and you spend a decent chunk of time deciding on your blues, grays and russets.

A somber scene, anyone can tell.

For the finishing touch, you pick up two tubes of yellow paint, trying to decide between Golden Poppy or Spring Daffodil. Either one is a stark contrast to the melancholic feel you were going for before.

Turning to face Minho, you raise your hands. “Which one?”

He stares at the acrylics for a minute in silence. “They’re yellow,” he concludes.

“Duh. But which shade do you like better?”

“They look exactly the same.”

You purse your lips, then hold your hands closer to his face as if it’ll help. "No, look. This one is slightly lighter but muted. This one is more vibrant but the shade is deeper."

Minho hums as if in thought. You wonder if he actually sees the differences, but he probably doesn’t. Hyunjin is usually the only person in your friend group whom you can talk to about these things since he’s the only other art major of the bunch.

“Is yellow supposed to be happy?”

Hope, is what you want to say. You want it to end on a lighter, brighter note. Happy feels too unattainable even if it’s only ideals and colors on canvas.

But maybe sometimes being hopeful is the same as being happy. Maybe for some, that’s all you can really ask for.

In spite of it all, isn’t hope the only thing that persists?

“Sure,” you say, “yellow is happy.”

After a brief moment, Minho plucks the tube in your left hand and puts it in the basket. Spring Daffodil it is.

It’s kind of a nice thought, isn’t it? That Minho had a helping hand in your work. That there’s a little bit of him in your art.

You go to the cash register with a basket full of goodies, only to realize that you don’t actually have anything on you.

“Ah, crap,” you mutter, turning to Minho. “My wallet is in my bag. In the car.”

“I’ll get it,” Minho says, handing you the basket. “Be right back.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll just check something out over there.”

And then he’s off, the bell by the door ringing to announce his temporary departure. You wander over to a shelf in the corner where they store their brushes. There’s a filbert brush that you’ve been eyeing for a while.

You go over the selection, debating whether or not you should replace some of the brushes you have at home. Most of them are worn out; they’ve been with you for ages now.

You don’t notice the second chime of the bell, too immersed in studying the bristles, envisioning the strokes they would create on canvas.

You don’t pay attention to a voice talking to you either. That is, until a shoulder nudges yours and you find yourself looking up at an unfamiliar face.

Taking a step away from the stranger, you say, “Can I help you?”

The man doesn’t look like he’s your age, but he doesn’t look that much older either. Probably just by a few years. “I was just saying that filbert’s a good choice,” he chuckles.

“Oh, yeah.” You give him a small smile. “It’s a good brush.”

“Great for blending. It really makes the strokes stand out, y’know.”

“Mhmm. So I’ve heard.”

Glancing at the contents of your basket, he asks, “Are you working on a project?”

“Just something for a class.”

He hums in acknowledgment, to which you give him a nod in return. The conversation is short and awkward, as one can probably expect when they try to make small talk with a stranger over something as random as a paintbrush.

And especially when the recipient of said small talk is you, who’s been described on multiple occasions as “unapproachable” and “intimidating”.

That, and the fact that you suffer from a major case of resting bitch face and you’re not really keen on talking to strangers when you it’s not absolutely necessary.

You move to the next aisle, going back to look at the selection of colors from which you’ve already taken your pick earlier with Minho. You don’t need a second look, but it just feels a little weird to still be standing in the same corner with the man.

You think that it would be the end of your interaction, but then he moves along with you. He follows you as you walk, before soon obliterating any space between your body as he strides next to you, your arms brushing one another.

“I’ve actually noticed you in here a few times,” he says.

“Sorry?”

“I’ve seen you before.” This time, he tells you with a smile. “I just never worked up the courage to talk to you until today.”

It’s not a bad smile, nothing Joker-esque but the way he says it with practically no space at all between the two of you makes you a little squeamish.

You wonder what’s taking Minho so long.

“Oh,” you say, not really sure how else to respond, trying to shuffle away from him but there’s not much room to accommodate the both of you. “That’s... uhm, actually, could you-”

He gets the hint, but it’s not like you were trying to hide the discomfort on your face. He takes a couple of small steps back, which doesn’t really count as stepping out of your personal space but it’s a little better than before.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not coming on too strongly. You’re just... I think you’re really pretty,” he says with a small laugh, the kind that would be charming if real life was a romcom and you two were the main characters. “Are you here by yourself?”

“Thank you... uhm, I’m... flattered but I’m here with my boyfriend today.”

You can tell that the mention of a significant other throws him off, because he doesn’t exactly do a very good job at concealing his surprise.

“You usually go alone, though.”

Oh...?

Right. Definitely not a romcom.

You can’t help the slight frown that tugs on your brows upon hearing those words. If you were somewhat irritated before by a random stranger who can’t really take a hint, then that feeling is rapidly melting away to make space for a sense of unease that crawls up the back of your neck like a rogue spider.

You can normally handle mildly persistent guys who keep insisting on chatting you up, but you’ve never actually had someone drop a creepy line on you before.

In a place that you’ve frequented for years now.

You’re suddenly wildly grateful that Minho demanded to tag along today.

“My boyfriend is just getting some stuff from the car,” you settle on telling the man. “He’ll be right back.”

“Maybe I can keep you company while you wait.”

“Thank you but that’s not necessary.”

“Not even for a few minutes?”

“You really don’t have to do that. My boyfriend will be back any-”

Then you’re being pulled to the side, the abruptness of the moment briefly disorienting you that you almost lose your balance if not for the arm around your shoulder keeping you steady.

You glance up with widened eyes, though they soften after a couple seconds as relief washes over you. Minho leans down to kiss you before you can say anything; the only sound that escapes you is a surprised Oh! which he muffles with his lips.

“Sorry I took so long, baby,” he says once he pulls away. “My mom called to ask if we’re still coming over this weekend. You’re still up for Sunday, right?”

“Hmm?” You try to ignore the tingle in your lips and the spike in your heart rate, but you quickly blame it on the suddenness of his actions. “Yeah... yeah, Sunday’s good.”

Minho smiles softly, his hand squeezing your shoulder comfortingly pressing another kiss to your cheek - for further emphasis, you suppose - before he turns his attention elsewhere.

His expression changes completely. Instead of a cute smile, his mouth is pressed into a hard line, his gaze a cold glare. “Can we help you?”

The man doesn’t instantly back off like you thought he would - Minho can be quite scary when he wants to be - but glances between you and Minho like he’s assessing the situation.

The kiss, the arm around your shoulder, the deadly look in Minho’s eyes, plus your friend has been working out more often lately and it shows.

The unwanted stranger eventually raises a conceding hand. “Nope, all good. Sorry for bothering you,” he says, plastering that smile on his face again. “Have a good day.”

Minho takes the basket from your hand and steers you away. He keeps a hand on your back while you pay and collect your supplies at the counter. Basket duty turns into carrying the bag of acrylics for you even after you insist on doing it yourself.

Once you’re in the car, you turn to him with a grateful smile. “Thanks for the save.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “I’m sorry though. I was getting your bag and Hyunjin called screaming about something. I didn’t know you were stuck with a weirdo. What did he say?”

“I’ve never seen him before but he said he’s seen me around. He kept trying to talk me even after I said I had a boyfriend. And get this, he knows that I usually come here alone. I don’t know, I’m a little grossed out.”

Minho frowns. When he says your name, it’s full of concern. “He knows that you usually go alone? That’s creepy.”

“I know!” Leaning against the headrest, you sigh, “Ugh, this is where I always go to get my supplies.”

“Why don’t you just go to the place that Hyunjin goes? It’s close to campus.”

“But everything’s so overpriced there. Besides, they have the best selection here. It’s my go-to.’

He goes quiet then, and speaks up after a moment of contemplation. “Tell me whenever you need to go. I’ll come with you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” There must be incredulousness written all over your face, but his expression returns to neutral, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You know all of your friends are quite protective, but still.

“You’re not asking me. I’m offering.”

“It’s not like you’re free all the time.”

Minho hums, acknowledging your point because it’s true. He has a life of his own and shit that he has to deal with; he can’t be around to babysit you 24/7. Not that you even need him to anyway. “If I can’t go then I’ll make sure Hyunjin goes with you. Or Jisung. Any one of the guys.”

“It’s not that big a deal.” You look at Minho, to which he just stares back. “I know I said today was weird but I’m not that helpless.”

“I know you’re not helpless.” He holds your gaze, briefly wondering if he has offended you somehow. “If you won’t do it for your sake, will you at least do it for mine? I don’t want you to be in a bad situation when I can help make it better for you.”

The tone he uses to deliver his words doesn’t really leave you any room to argue. You would probably just kinda look like an asshole to brush him off when all he genuinely wants is to ensure that you’re safe.

Eventually, you only purse your lips and nod, which seems to appease Minho for now. Of course you’re thankful that you have good people by your side. If the roles were reversed and this happened to any of your friends, you would be all up in arms for them too.

But way beyond that appreciation is something that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s similar to the feeling you got the first morning you woke up next to him. A fluttering sensation in your chest, warmly touched by how much he cares, how much he’s willing to do for you.

It’s simply absurd to you that anyone would think Minho is cold.

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all rights reserved��© withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 15.02.2024]

[celandeline]

in your head, on your mind // Jordan Li x Reader, Part 2

the brainrot only increases day by day. i want to be them. i want to fuck them. i cannot decide which one of those options i want to do more. anyways, here's part 2. thanks for all the love and support on part 1!

word count: 1874

previous part // next part

You ended up texting with Jordan for most of the night, smiling and giggling to yourself as your roommates slept across the room, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. It was hard though - with every text you found yourself more and more enthralled with Jordan. Everything about them, their sense of humor, their obvious intelligence, the way that they blended flirting with casual conversation, just made you like them more. And the fact that you couldn’t read their thoughts over text only added to the experience. Made it authentic - what were they thinking about right now? You couldn’t know. It was intoxicating. 

Around three in the morning, when you were finally ready to pass out, you made plans to hit the gym together tomorrow. 

Which is why you loiter in front of the gym now, checking and re-checking your phone to see if they’ve texted you again. It’s 1:57, three minutes before you said you would meet up, though you’ve been waiting for at least five minutes more. Anxious. Excited. Thinking about them already. 

…be perfectly fine, you’ve got this. It’s not even like a real date or anything, you’re just hitting the gym. Casually. Casual. Okay. Oh, fuck okay. Wow. You look really good in workout gear.

You pick up on their thoughts before you see them, just as anxious and excited as your own. Turning, you smile as they come into view, today in their masculine form, dressed in a loose tank top and baggy sweatpants. “Hi Jordan.”

“Hi.” They say, a smile stretching across their lips. “You look nice.”

“You said.” You say. “Or, thought, rather.”

Right. You’re in my head now, shit. Different than text. “Still thought I should say it out loud.” They say with a shrug. 

“I appreciate it.” You say, and you do. It isn’t often that people take to repeating what they’re thinking in speech once they learn you can hear their thoughts. 

For a moment, the air is silent between the two of you and you simply look at each other. They really are pretty - you could fall into those chocolate eyes and never be able to find your way out. And their hair, you so desperately want to run your fingers through it, it looks so silky smooth. 

You smile as Jordan’s thoughts - much the same as your own - run through your head. You’re so fucking pretty its unreal. I can’t believe you said yes to hanging out. I can’t believe we spent all night texting each other - when was the last time I did that? Like highschool probably. I need to pump the breaks dude fuck. Sorry. I’m sorry. 

“You don’t have to apologize-” You start. 

“I know, it’s just- I’m not used to it yet.” They say, pulling open the door to the gym for you. 

You walk inside, hit by the smell of sweat and rubber and the metallic tang of blood all at once. The sounds of working out - machinery clanging, grunting, screams of pain, echo around the place mixing together with the generic pop music playing over the gym speakers. You hover near the entrance, waiting for Jordan to take the lead. 

“I, um, took the liberty of reserving a sparring room for us.” They say, voice raised a little over the din. “We don’t have to though - I mean, that’s just usually what I do to work out.” No pressure if you don’t want to touch me. I didn’t mean it like that - you already know. 

“Sparring’s fine, yeah.” You say. “Thanks for getting a room.”

“‘Course.” Jordan says, starting towards the back of the gym, where the sparring rooms are located. You follow in their wake, passing hordes of your sweaty peers, all focused on bettering themselves. It is easy to tune out the telepathic chatter when you are inclined to focus on Jordan anyway. 

It isn’t a far walk to the sparring rooms, and Jordan pulls open the door to room five, holding it open for you to walk in. Like the rest of the sparring rooms, it’s completely padded - ceiling and all - to minimize the amount of damage students would do to each other. A circle is drawn out on the center of the floor, a boundary to use for a more traditional match. You drop your gym bag near the door, and turn to Jordan. 

“So what rules do you usually go by?” You ask. 

“Hand to hand only, no powers if you can help it but I guess since you can’t really turn yours off don’t worry about that.” They say. “Uh, we can use the circle if you want but usually me and whoever I’m sparring with just go until someone’s pinned.”

“That sounds fine to me.” You say. “And since I can’t not use my powers, I think you should be able to use yours too. Just to be fair.”

Jordan purses their lips. I would throw you through these walls with my energy blasts. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” You say. And then, planting your voice in their head, “I trust you to be gentle with me.”

Jordan’s cheeks tint red. “Okay.” They clear their throat, and set their own gym bag down. “Stretch first?”

You stretch together, working through most of the usual positions and then some that you hadn’t heard of before at Jordan’s prompting. Now, feeling nice and limber, you stand in the center of the room, across from Jordan, your fists raised in front of you, ready to strike. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Jordan raises their own fists, adjusting their stance. For a moment, everything is still. 

You know they’re going to move before they do it. 

Jordan lunges forward, but you’re already darting back, finely tuned into their thoughts, able to counter every move they make before they’ve even finished deciding to do it. When you’d first arrived at GodU, people had underestimated you, thinking your power couldn’t be practically applied in combat situations. How wrong they were. 

Yeah I figured as much. Jordan, unsurprised, changes forms, trying again to land a hit now in their more lithe female body. Still, you’re able to stay one step ahead, dodging the moment they begin to swing, darting back as soon as they lift their foot from the mat to kick at you. You take the opportunity to land a sharp hit on their side, right between two of their ribs, and then another in the center of their stomach. 

Damn, okay Y/N, packing a punch. Jordan groans, but doesn’t stop, instead doing their best to return the hits. You dart away again - keeping yourself one step ahead and an arm’s length away. 

It goes like that for a while - you, carefully in tune with Jordan’s every move, and Jordan, growing more and more frustrated as they fail time and time again to land a punch. It’s fun, listening to their thoughts grow more and more frantic, strategizing and re-strategizing ways to knock you off your guard, and you find yourself biting back a smile, not wanting to infuriate them further. You’re winning without a doubt, until-

Is this what it’s going to be like when we fuck?

Jordan’s thought throws you off your rhythm, and you falter, their fist breezing past your face as you barely move away in time. They grin, and you hear their voice in your head; what? I thought you were used to that sort of thing?

It’s true, you had told them that it happened more often than you liked to admit - and it did, but never in a situation like this. In a fight, most people were focused on well… the fight. Not…

God, your shoulders look so good in that shirt. You should get more shirts like that. I want to sink my teeth into your muscles. 

Jordan throws another punch, and you only narrowly dodge it again, doing your best to ignore the way they’re thinking about you. It’s hard though, when you’re so focused on their thoughts anyway to try and keep ahead of their punches. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

It all comes to a head when Jordan actually lands a hit on you because you were distracted by the image of you and them, pressed against the lockers of the locker room, making out with furious intensity. There was a quality to the thought that made you think it wasn’t the first time Jordan had conjured this image - but it was the sharp change in focus that actually made you falter. 

Jordan lands one hit, and then their hand wraps around your arm. Before you can wiggle free, they shift into their male form, grip tightening. I’m going to throw you to the floor. 

If it had been anyone else, the thought would have sparked fear. But instead, excitement swirls in your stomach. 

As gently as someone can throw someone else to the ground, Jordan flips you. You land on your back against the cushioned floor, the impact radiating through your whole body. Before you can scramble back to your feet, Jordan - still masculine and therefore immovable - pins you down, almost laying on top of you. 

“I win.” They say, lips only inches from yours. I could kiss you right now. Would you let me? You don’t have to. 

You press your lips together, fighting off a smile as you pretend to struggle in their grip. “Fine you win. What kind of prize do you want?”

“Don’t tempt me.” They say, eyes darkening as their pupils widen ever so slightly. Fuck. Do you mean that?

You smile, and wind your thoughts into theirs. You don’t get to fuck me - not yet anyway - but I’ll kiss you if you still want it. 

The second the thought registers, Jordan is pressing their lips to yours, roughly, hungrily, like they’ve been waiting. You know they’ve been waiting - you can feel it in their thoughts, in the way that they run a hand down your side like if they stop touching you you’ll disappear. As soon as you feel them let their guard down, you flip the both of you over, giving yourself a turn to hover over them. 

Their eyes widen as you break the kiss to start leaving little kisses along their jaw, working towards their neck. Oh fuck. You can’t- you said we can’t fuck right now, you cant start kissing me there- fuck. I can’t fight this boner-

They shift under you, reverting back into their female form. You take it in stride, still continuing your path to the sweet spot beneath their ear. You suck hard on the delicate skin once you land, and they groan deep in their throat, pushing their chest up against yours as their eyes roll into their head. You pull back to enjoy their reaction, and when they open their eyes again, you smile. 

“I wouldn’t have been offended by a boner, you didn’t have to switch to hide it.” You say. 

Jordan smiles. “Habit, sorry.” They pause. “Um.” I need to go home and jerk off. Like right now. Sorry. “We should do this again, sometime.”

You roll off of them, smiling as you plop down on the matted floor. “For sure.”

[sillybond]

As a send of here's my compilation of every detail/gag or pretty much everything that I loved about the Fionna and Cake finale.

First off, the lighthearded stuff.

First of all. That's Hunter!!! We finally get to see HW gender-swapped counterpart's design. Gotta say I love that they kept it the same, it does feel like it could fit anyone.

Talking about him, I LOVE that they are finally adding him to the gang. I didn't expect him to be so prevalent in the finale, but I couldn't be happier! It seems like the crew has finnaly learned to apreciate HW and they are inserting her (even if it's Hunter) whenever they can.

All the raw emotion of the lich would have been unheard of at any other point in AT's history. The depression and hopelessnes, such human emotions were amazing to explore in him. He poses himself as a "ceesless weel" a god-like beeing of pure destruction, but even he neels when he realices it was all for nothing.

For some time I theorized that Golb (and subsequently Golbetty) was, in fact, Scarabs and Prismo's Boss. Kind of like a ultimate deity, high up on the pantheon. But seeing how Scarab adresses her in such a careles way, emphasizing that she should "stay out of this" made me think about the real power dinamic between thees two. And thus, of the whole multiverse bureocracy.

This tittle card rips me apart. It's briming with thematic importance. But I feel so many emotions simply beacuse it says cheers, it's like a send-off, a happy cheerfull goodbye to all of us who enjoyed this show. It made me tear up a bit when I first saw it.

For thoose who aren't aware Pawn Swan's was created by Steven Wolfhard after CAWM alongside the pup kingdom. He has in his tumblr a gigantic amount of lore about it. I'm sooo happy they finally got to use his ideas and designs. Many of the pups seen all trought Shermy and Beth's sequence were in his drawings too. So go check that out!

I'm a complete sucker for happy endings and THIS was PERFECTION. I simply connot describe how much I obsolutely LOVE that they are able to comunicate and talk. it's just perfect, this show has me spoiled-rotten.

In pure Marceline fashion Marshal tries playing another song. And Gary is soo into this man it's unreal

But, also in pure Marceline fashion, he gets interupted. It kind of reminded me about Marceline's song to Bonny in Obsidian. But it's kind of the oposite outcome, Scarab isn't affected by it at all while Glorbo is finaly delt with.

Talking about Simon being happy. I'm just so glad that he has been able to reconect with Astrid!!! This man is such a DAD, I love him :,)

Before Fionna's world was finaly canonized we can see that it really just amounts to the city. Which makes sense because if you are trying to put a whole world in a dude's head, you are going to have to cut some stuff out.

Anyways, after they are made legit we can see that the city has expanded! And I also assume that now there's not only a city, but a whole world too!!

This really came as a surprise honeslty, but a welcomed one at that. I assume that since Jay agrees to stay in the city, even if it's not forever, Farmworld Finn must be fine. It doesn't make any sense for him to drop his 4 little brothers just to screw around in another universe.

The only sad part is that, since we don't see neither PB nor Marcy in the tank that means they are probably dead. In the end it does seem like they took eachothers life, together.

Now onto the heavy stuff!

"This is the world we want to fight for. The Scarab is kind of invincible. But we won't give up. If we die, we'll die together, as ourselves"

This cuts deep. At this moment Fionna was ready to die. She acknowledges that she had tried everything she could and that, in a way, it was her fault. But she also understands that this is what it is. And she's ready to depart. In what she thought were her last moments she found happines in thoose and that around her. Magic or not, they were all together, and that's what mattered.

"We made our choices. We could have made better ones, but I don't have any regrets. You were a wonderful experience"

We knew Simon had wronged Betty. She had put away everything for him. He didn't do it on porpuse, but he recognised he could have been more thoughtful. In the end, while Simon acknowledges his mistakes Betty doesn't demonise neither him nor the relationship that came bacuse of it. It's a very sentimental, heartfelt conclusion.

As humans we often try to make our best to navigate life. But with all the choices in front of us it's very hard to get it right. A lot of time might have to pass before we truly see how wrong we were. We realize that we hurt people, and that things didn't have to be this way. But once we acknowledge this we can finaly move on. At this moment, Simon realizes that it's okay to fail but, unfortunetly, we can't go back. We have to live with it and it can't prevent us from moving forward.

In the end all we can do is have compassion for ourselves, and for each other.

That was pretty much all of the details and highlights for me. There's some other ones but they are kind of too obvious to point out.

Thanks a lot for reading the whole thing! It means a lot :)

[milaeth]

୨୧┊𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. ( lando norris )

ꖛ ─ you’re reading part one ∿ part two ( coming soon )

✧.* pairings ─ lando norris x fem! football player! reader

✧.* genre ─ social media au ⨾ fluff

✧.* summary ─ in which you're a football player and after winning the champions league with your team, a secret admirer named "L" sends you flowers. everyone thinks it's your friend Lance, but what if it's someone else? perhaps someone who’s also a formula one driver and is known for being a big fan of yours...

✧.* face claim ─ jana fernández (she’s obv around the same age as lando in this)

✧.* warnings ─ none

✧.* mily’s thoughts ─ so sorry for the wait, i had to take a little break, but i’m back now! btw i’ve had this in my drafts for literal months, but i finally decided to post it so enjoy :)

yourusername

liked by lance_stroll, fcbfemeni and 753,965 others

yourusername We rocked the semi finals, now it’s time for the actual one! We can do this!!🔥

tagged: @/fcbfemeni @/wchampionsleague

view all 375 comments . . .

user1604 massive win! some sick tackles made by you today, wow. so proud of you guys🔵🔴

user693 LETS GOOOO

lance_stroll So proud of you💙❤️

yourusername Thank you Lance❤️

user4635 y’all seeing this???

user8476 the hearts…🤭

user4316 BARCELONA 🔛🔝

user1036 mother is mothering‼️

landonorris Congratulations, you guys were amazing!👏

liked by yourusername

user5837 YOU GUYS WILL ROCK THE FINAL

fcbfemeni best cb in laliga🔥🔵🔴

yourusername best club💙❤️

user3835 devoured and left no crumbs

user8547 who is that girl and why are lance and lando always in her likes and comments??

user9527 girl bffr💀

user1584 “that girl” is Y/n mf L/n.

user5264 @user8547 That is Y/n L/n! She plays for Barcelona’s women's team. She and Lance have been friends for quite a while and I guess he introduced her to the other drivers at some point because a lot of them follow her. She's been to a few races and sometimes still attends them when she's not playing for Barcelona! :)

2 May 2023

landonorris just added to their story . . .

liked by mclaren, fcbfemeni and 97,537 others

private replies to this story . . .

maxfewtrell Off to go see the love of your life play?👀

landonorris Shut up mate

maxfewtrell You didn’t deny it👀

landonorris Dude she doesn’t even know I exist

maxfewtrell Of course she knows you exist. She’s friends with Lance and therefore knows you from the grid.

landonorris Yeah okay but that’s about it. The first and only time we talked in person was in 2020 so she probably forgot about my existence.

maxfewtrell Well then change that😉

yourusername

liked by alexiaputellas, wchampionsleague and 1,846,053 others

yourusername This feels unreal🏆🔵🔴

tagged: @/fcbfemeni @/wchampionsleague

show top comments . . .

lance_stroll I’m literally so proud of you. We have to celebrate this, love you💙

yourusername Thank you so much, can’t wait to see you again💙

user836 @lance_stroll confess to her already🙄🙄

user638 i ship them so hard

landonorris This was the first football game I watched live and the atmosphere was amazing. Great win💙❤️

yourusername Our games always have an amazing atmosphere, it’s really worth it

landonorris I could tell! Today’s game won’t be the last one I’ll see live

yourusername I hope so :)

user9526 AYO WHAT IS GOING ON

9 May 2023

yourusername just added to their story . . .

liked by lance_stroll, landonorris and 352,942 others

11 May 2023

∿ taglist ─ @ay7ton @ch3rryknots @fdl305 @chrysanthemonza @remuslupinsbtch @kissesandmartinis @hevburn @noncannonships @quadrisl @dhhdhsiavdhaj @godessstela @hectorr-19 @layazul @bambispostsblog @ferrariloverr @xxenia14 @sigistarkstrom @asparklysoul @dinodumbass @tpwkstiles @our-love-world @sainzluvrr @ophcelia @mcmuppet ( here’s my taglist if you want to get tagged in my future work )

don’t forget to like, comment & reblog (it’s very much appreciated <3).

© milaeth | 2023

[doctorbitchcrxft]

The Magnificent Seven | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: recovering from a sexual assault (please heed this warning), angst, canon violence, canon gore,

Word Count: 3382

A/N: SEASON THREEEEEEEEEEEE thank you guys so much for all the support i love you so much i give each of you a little kiss on the face :)))

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Dean hadn’t called you since you left. Honestly, you didn’t expect him to. However, there was a feeling clawing at you that you wanted him to. You wanted him to beg you to come back and tell you he missed you and loved you, too. Although, seventy-eight hours after leaving the Winchesters, you were unsure that phone call would ever come.

Over the previous three days, you’d scoured every library book on demonology you could get your hands on and prodded every community college professor that could possibly know any information helpful to you in breaking Dean’s deal. However, all you came up with were crossed eyes from staring at books for too long and several aging professors looking at you like you had three heads.

To your surprise, the phone on the center console next to you rang, the light from the small screen on the front of the flip phone illuminating a portion of the dark car. Hopeful, you picked it up. 

‘Oh,’ you thought. ‘Just Sam.’

“Hello?” you said into the phone.

“(Y/N), hey, it’s good to hear your voice,” Sam replied.

“Good to hear yours, too,” you said, a little sadness in your tone. “Is— Is Dean around?”

“Nah. He’s, uh…” Sam trailed off, sighing.

“Polling the electorate?” you questioned, hoping Sam would understand your reference. 

“Yeah,” Sam laughed sadly. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

You sighed, ready to change the subject. “It’s okay. What’s goin’ on? Why’d you call?”

“What, I couldn’t’ve just wanted to talk to you?”

“You would’ve called before if that was the case,” you replied a little flippantly. 

“Fine, you got me,” Sam chuckled. “Was wondering if you’d found anything.”

“Besides an unreal level of frustration? No.”

“Yeah. Same here.” 

You clicked on your turning signal and sighed. “Honestly, dude? I don’t think we’re gonna find the answer in any book.”

“You’re probably right,” Sam acknowledged. “Doesn’t hurt to look, though.”

“I have looked, Sam. And there’s nothing,” you responded, getting a little snippy with him. “I’m sorry. I’m just—” you quickly apologized.

“I get it. Me, too.”

“I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Sam replied quietly. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

You understood the warning in his tone and knew he somehow figured out your next stop would be summoning every crossroads demon you could possibly find and hunting others down for answers. “Can’t make any promises, Sammy. Love you, bye.”

You snapped the phone shut and huffed. As badly as you wanted to continue your pursuit of these sons of bitches, you knew you’d be getting nowhere on the hour and a half of sleep you’d cumulatively been getting over the past five days. 

***

The next morning, only feeling slightly refreshed from the three hours of sleep you’d gotten, you headed out into the early morning sun to find yourself a demon. 

The previous evening, you’d found a bizarre story in the newspaper about a man who’d died under mysterious circumstances after picking up a hooker on the day after those demons were released from Hell in your fight with the yellow-eyed demon. There had also been a cicada swarm around the motel the man had died in; a traditional demonic omen.

The coroner’s report indicated the man had been tied to the bed and found without his genitals, blood soaking every inch of the room. They concluded the man had bled to death. What made the case more disturbing and interesting was the fact that there was a deep bruise around his neck in the shape of two small, delicate hands. 

Curious, you headed to Lincoln, Nebraska to interview the wife of the man who’d passed.

“Hi, I’m with the FBI—” you flashed your fake badge at the woman as you spoke— “and I just have a few questions for you regarding your husband’s death?”

“I don’t understand,” she said, beginning to tear up. “I already answered these questions for the police.”

“Yes, ma’am, I just have to do a follow-up of my own. A cross-examination of sorts.”

She nodded and stepped back from the door, allowing you into her home. She gestured for you to sit on the couch across from the chair she settled into. 

“So, what would you like to know?” she asked. 

“What was your husband like?”

She laughed humorlessly. “Why is that important? I mean, I’m not even sure I really knew him. Married to that cheating bastard for fifteen years, and he does this to me.”

“What do you mean by ‘you’re not sure you knew him’?” you pressed.

“I mean,” she sniffed, “I just never would’ve thought he’d cheat on me. With a whore, no less.”

You cringed at the implication of sex workers being “whores” but kept your mouth shut anyway. 

“I mean, in all the time we were together, I was the only girl he ever looked at,” she explained. “He never drank, never went out— hell, he felt guilty about watching porn! I just… I can’t understand why he’d do this to me.” Her sobs wracked her body, and she put her face in her hands. 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Grishop. I just have one more question for you.”

She looked back up at you expectantly, still hiccuping from her cries.

“Did he have any enemies? Anyone who may possibly want to hurt him?”

She shook her head. “No. Before… all this… he really was the nicest man I ever knew.”

***

Following leaving the woman’s house, you decided to head out to lunch to gather your thoughts. In the midst of writing them all down in your journal and munching on a fry, a story on the news caught your attention. 

“Second Victim of Possible Serial Killer Found,” read the headline at the bottom of the screen.

“Walter Morrisson, age forty-nine, was found dead in a Super 8 motel just off I-6 around eleven A.M. this morning. Authorities were called to the scene when the housekeeper found the body after assuming the man had already checked out."

‘Oh, fuck,’ you thought. You tuned the rest of the broadcast out as your mind raced; whatever this thing was, it was just getting started.

You left a twenty dollar bill on the table to cover your meal and tip and quickly left the diner. You sped down to the Super 8 to begin investigating. 

Upon entering the lobby, you noticed a scraggly young man sitting behind the desk. The room was completely empty aside from him.

“Hi,” you grinned. “My name’s Christine McVie; I’m with the FBI.” You flashed your badge. “You mind letting me have a look at your security tapes?”

He nodded nervously, eyes flickering from your chest and back up to your face. He allowed you behind the desk to examine the security tapes from the previous night, and you clicked over to the camera just outside of the victim’s motel room. A gorgeous blonde woman escorted the man into the room, and she looked at the camera for just a split second. Had you not been paying close attention, you would’ve missed it completely: her eyes were black.

Immediately, you had the man working the front desk make you a copy of the tape and brought it back to your motel room. You then uploaded it to your laptop and began scanning FBI and police databases you’d hacked into to find the woman’s identity. After about thirty minutes, you found a match.

“Jennifer Lane, 28, Missing from Miami, Florida,” the information on your screen read. 

‘Holy shit,’ you thought. ‘She went missing the same night I killed Yellow Eyes.’ Looking at the picture of Jennifer linked to the article you found confirmed the fact that this was your mystery demon. You felt awful for that poor girl trapped underneath and had no doubt she was going through a world of pain; a slave to her own mind.

“Housekeeping,” a sultry voice suddenly called from outside your door.

Unsettled, you drew your gun and pressed it to the door and looked through the peephole. You were met with the smiling face of the girl you had just been reading about, and the door abruptly slammed open and threw you back into your room. Two men with black eyes came into the room as well and grabbed under each of your arms before you even had a second to adjust. 

You fought them as best you could which quickly proved futile. 

“Don’t worry, angel,” the beautiful blonde cooed, “we’re not gonna hurt you.” She grinned wickedly and pulled your bottom lip down with her thumb. “Yet.”

The men holding you laughed as you continued to struggle, frantically flailing your limbs to shake them off. 

“What’s the rush?” the demon asked you, roughly grabbing the sides of your face. “Y’know, you give a girl all kinds of nasty ideas.” Her lips ghosted over yours, and you suddenly found yourself unable to resist leaning forward slightly to kiss her. She kissed you deeply and furiously, causing you to stop fighting the two demons holding either side of you. You could feel them pulling your arms behind your back and tying them together, as well as your legs, but you could do nothing to fight off the woman before you. 

When you’d been bound, the demons dragged you out to a car and threw you in the trunk of it. Trying not to panic, you tried to keep track of how long they were driving for and how many rights and lefts they’d been taking. However, after the second hour of driving, it was all becoming a bit much to keep track of. 

Suddenly, the car came to a stop. You tried to prepare for whatever was ahead of you mentally and cried out when a demon roughly grabbed your hair. He hauled you out of the trunk and unceremoniously tossed you over his shoulder. You kicked and fought as best as you could, screaming, “Let me go!” You kicked the man’s stomach with all your might. “Let me go, you son of a bitch!”

“(Y/N)!” you heard an all-too familiar voice yell. Your stomach dropped at the sound of Dean’s voice, unwilling to face him after your confession and having not spoken for a week. 

“Let go of me, you fucking asshole!” You wriggled even harder now and were suddenly aware that the man carrying you stopped moving. He roughly tore you off his shoulder and stood you on your shaky legs in front of the steps up to a house. You came face to face with Dean being held back from crossing the line of salt blocking the doorway by Bobby and Sam. 

Afraid your voice would fail if you spoke, you said nothing but held Dean’s gaze.

“We come with a peace offering,” the gorgeous blonde who’d kidnapped you purred, dragging her nail harshly down your jawline and breaking the skin along it. You hissed in pain and could see Dean fight against Bobby out of the corner of your eye. “You give him back to us, and we’ll give her to you.”

“Nice try,” Sam replied. “How do we even know that’s (Y/N)? How do we know she’s not possessed?”

“You don’t." The woman gripped your chin. “But trust me, you don’t wanna see what happens if you leave me with her for much longer.”

And then, all hell broke loose. Someone— you were pretty sure you knew who— charged the demons holding you hostage and you heard Bobby yell, “Salt’s broken!” as the demon holding you up dropped you to the floor. About ten demons ran past you into the house, and you were left trying to get out of the binds you were held in. You were growing more and more frustrated by the second until someone came up from behind you.

“Need a little help?” a gorgeous blonde asked, smirking down at you. 

“Who the hell are you?” you asked. “Get away from me!”

“Baby, if I wanted to kill you, I would’ve already.” The woman pushed you upright into a sitting position and cut through the ropes binding your hands. 

Confused and startled, you watched the woman walk up to the house. “You’re welcome,” she remarked over her shoulder. 

“Thank you,” you replied, still confused. You shook your head to snap yourself alert and stood. You were completely unsure of what to do now; you desperately wanted to help your friends, but you were scared of facing Dean and had no weapons. Alone outside of a house you didn’t recognize deep in the woods, you decided to hotwire the car the demons brought you there in. 

By some miracle, you managed to find the interstate and, eventually, your motel. When you’d showered, changed, and dressed the deep bruises and brush burns on your wrists from the rope the demons had used on you, you wrapped your arms around your stomach and laid on your side in bed.

You didn’t get much sleep that night, though; you were too busy stifling tears while your mind ran wild with possible scenarios that could’ve happened after you abandoned the boys. You felt horribly guilty already.

Your guilt was made even worse when Bobby called you around five in the morning.

“What the hell was that?” he scolded through the phone.

You grimaced. “Bobby—”

“No, (Y/N). You don’t abandon family like that,” he raged.

“I didn’t have any weapons! And since when do I have a family?!”

“Since the day I found you in the woods holding your guts in your goddamn hands!” he roared, and your guilt immediately sank deeper. 

“Bobby, I’m sorry—”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, kid. It’s Sam and Dean I’d worry about,” he replied, voice softening slightly— or, as much as Bobby’s voice could, anyway.

“What? Why?”

“You left again. Without saying goodbye. Or making sure that they were okay. Dean’s pissed; Sam’s just hurt.”

‘Ouch,’ you thought. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t wanna be in the way, and I didn’t have any weapons, and when I saw that girl going to help you, I figured it was better if I just left—”

“So you saw her, too?” Bobby questioned.

“Of course, I saw her. Why wouldn’t I have seen her?” you replied.

“ ‘Cause Sam said she disappeared. And the knife she had killed three demons,” Bobby explained.

“What?! What the hell kind of knife can kill demons?” you exclaimed.

“Ask me yesterday, and I would’ve said there’s no such thing,” he said. “I thought Sam mighta been losin’ his mind, but since you saw her, too...” Bobby trailed off. “Look, I think you should give ‘em a call. Just let ‘em know you’re all right. And apologize.” The last part of Bobby’s statement sounded more like an order.

“I’ll call Sam,” you replied after a moment.

“No, (Y/N), Dean, too. You two need to sort out whatever the hell’s wrong with you,” Bobby asserted. 

You went quiet for a moment. 

“And call me when you get wherever you’re goin’,” he finished, “so I know you’re okay.”

The line cut out, and you smiled sadly. You felt absolutely horrible for leaving the way that you did, and you knew the right thing to do would be to call Sam and Dean; separately. You knew you had to face up to Dean at some point, but it just didn’t seem like the right time. But, Christ, did you miss him. You wanted him to apologize for not calling, you wanted to apologize for leaving— there were so many things you’d say to him. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to pick up the phone. 

You got up from your bed and crossed in front of the blackened television, jumping at the sight of your reflection. It was your guard uniform once more, scrapes up the left side of your arm and face, hair a complete mess, and buttons on your shirt buttoned haphazardly. You tried to steady yourself and take a breath. 

You hated trying to deal with this alone. Your body didn’t feel like your own anymore. You felt you couldn’t control the world around you like you used to feel before the prison case. It felt like things would never be okay, and you were never going to feel at home in yourself again. You didn’t like feeling helpless or like you needed anyone, but you truly needed your friends. Your pride fought your rational mind valiantly, telling you that you shouldn’t call because you can handle this alone. You shouldn’t call because you’ve never needed anyone before; why would you now? And yet, there was another part of you saying that you’ve always needed someone, this was just the first time you actually had someone. 

***

The day after leaving Lincoln, Nebraska, you began driving aimlessly again. You almost cried when you turned on the engine and rock music didn’t immediately start blaring from the speakers. The seats of the car felt uncomfortable and made you miss the polished leather of the Impala’s. You loved driving, but it didn’t feel right without Dean and Sam in the front seat ahead of you. 

Sam would often joke that he and his brother were your babysitters due to your designated seating positions in the car, and Dean would often say he wished he had “that sliding window thing—” “partition,” “thank you, Sam,” so he didn’t have to hear you chirping from the backseat. 

 None of the radio stations could rival the comforting background noise that was Dean’s cassette tape collection. You felt cramped without your seat to spread out across. The thing that made you call Sam, though, was the moment you slammed on the brakes and the book Sam read to you about Egypt while you had your concussion flew out of your duffel bag on the seat next to you. Tears swam in your eyes at the sight, and you finally gave in. 

“What, (Y/N)?” Sam annoyedly answered the phone. 

‘Jesus. Harsh,’ you thought. “I, uh. I just wanted to call and say that I’m sorry,” you began. “For leaving. Both times. And… just wanted to tell you that I hope you’re okay.”

You could practically hear the aggravation leaving Sam’s body as you spoke. One of your favorite things about your friend was how forgiving of a person he was. 

“I appreciate that,” Sam replied. He paused for a minute. “Why’d you do it, man?”

“I didn’t have any weapons. I saw the blonde chick go in to help you after she cut me loose, so I figured, I’d be doing more harm than good by staying—”

“No. The first time,” Sam cut you off.

“Dean didn’t tell you?” you asked, genuinely surprised. “I thought you knew this whole time.”

“(Y/N), since when does Dean tell me anything. I mean, it literally took me nearly beating it out of him for him to tell me that if the deal’s broken, I die—”

“What?!” you exclaimed, furious. “Since when? Why the fuck would he make that deal?!” 

“I said the same thing,” Sam replied calmly. 

“He’s so fucking selfish!”

“I completely agree.”

“He doesn’t get to be mad at me for leaving when I literally told him I love him, and he’s gonna fucking leave me in a year because of some stupid demon deal!” you continued to yell, not realizing what you’d admitted to Sam.

He was taken aback. “Whoa, you what?” 

You suddenly processed what you’d said. “Yeah. I did.”

“Jesus,” Sam sighed. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N/N).”

“It’s fine,” you replied, suddenly feeling like you were too vulnerable. “I’m just pissed.”

The younger brother paused for a moment. “Will you at least talk to him? Try to work things out?”

“Not a chance in hell,” you scoffed. “I don’t want things to work out. I don’t wanna watch him die in a year, Sammy.” Your voice quivered.

He paused again. “I get it. I wouldn’t want to either if I were you.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

“Me, too,” he replied. “Will you at least call every once in a while?”

Your chest ached at the realization that you may not be hunting with the brothers again for quite some time. “Absolutely.”

You could’ve sworn you heard him sniffle on the other end of the line. “Bye, (Y/N).”

“Till next time, Sammy.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[ohposhers]

YOUR FLOYD DESIGN BREATHES LIFE INTO ME‼️

I drew him eating some ring pops because he is apart of my head now :DD

BROOOOOOO YOUR STYLE OH MY GODDDDDDDD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA IM FUCKING DYING AAAAAAAAAA DUDE I LOVE HOW YOU DRAW HIM SO MUCH IM SOBBING THANK YOU FOR THE ACTUAL MEAL LOOK AT THAT LITTLE MENACE GO HE DESERVES TO GET SO FUCKED UP ITS UNREAL 🔥🔥🔥🔥🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏❤️❤️❤️❤️

[alexdiedin1999]

Ajax petropolis x reader

A/n: I’m so bad at writing but there’s like…two fics under Ajax petropolis x reader and my dude doesn’t deserve that 😔

E/C: eye color

summary: Ajax has been crushing on you for ages, dropping obvious hints every chance he gets. So why don’t you notice? Do you not like him? Something changes when the Rave’n dance comes.

warnings: like longing with fluff, happy ending, sucky writing, reader not picking up on obvious stuff, yelling.

The rave’n dance is coming up soon, and Ajax can’t wait. There’s just one problem. A certain someone doesn’t reciprocate his feelings. he’d dropped the most obvious hints, and they’d brushed them off like nothing had happened. Anyone except them would realize. To recount, these hints included:

•The time he gave you a heart necklace with your initials on it. You’d beamed at him and he almost thought you’d say what he so desperately wanted to hear. But then you said

“This is so sweet! You’re the best friend ever.” His heart sank into his chest. See, if he’d been a little more perceptive, he would’ve also paid attention to how much you were blushing when you gave it to him. But he didn’t.

•it was winter at Nevermore. The snow was thick and you’d dragged him outside, sticking your tongue out to catch the snowflakes. He admired you , your ability to look good even when you didn’t care. You turned to him, and giggled.

“what?” You asked. “Nothing!” He said quickly, looking away. “You were staring at me.” You pressed. “I- you have snow in your hair.” He lied. His face was red, but not from the cold. You shook your head, shaking the invisible flaked of snow from your hair. You were so unreal. The grip you had on his life was debilitating. Now, every time he looked at snow, he thought of you.

• He’d asked you to come over and have a movie marathon with him. He’d meant it as a date, and his heart had sped up when you’d said yes. It was perfect. He felt light as air every time you buried yourself deeper into his side on the way-too-small couch in his room. You thought it was lucky he even got one, considering he didn’t have to room with anyone. You shared with Enid. When you realized how late it was, you reluctantly said good night. He’d never felt better. “This was a great hangout. See you tommorow?” His smile faltered, but only for a second, when he heard the word hangout. He should’ve known you didn’t see him..like that. He hastily said good night.

Mix that with every other signal he’d given you, ever longing touch or small gift, even the way he looked at you. It was obvious. But you never noticed. He wanted to ask you to the Rave’n. So you met up like you did every Wednesday, at the weathervane. You sat, ordering the same thing you did every time. When the topic changed from homework to the Rave’n, he practically jumped at the chance to ask you.

“Y/n, I really want to go to-” Tyler sets the drinks down, interrupting him as he turns to you. “not to sound like a creep, but is there any chance..I could get your number?” You shoot a second long look at Ajax, turning back to Tyler and writing your number on a slip of paper he hands you, giving him your most seductive smile. Ajax feels sick to his stomach. You turn back to him. “Yeah?” You say, eyes wide. “Nothing.” He mutters, and hurriedly leaves after paying for his coffee.

Now he’s in your room, messing with your things while you finish your homework. He changes the song on your speaker, and you look up.

“hey! I liked that song.” You hit his arm playfully. He groans and turns it back. He was going to not pay attention to the song, save for a few nods of his head, but now that you’ve given your approval, he listens. The lyrics are about not confessing when your in love, and his heart tightens. He looks at you, focused on your work. You’re so pretty, your E/C eyes shining as you furrow your brow, furiously writing something down. He decides he can’t wait any longer. All he wants is to say it, to get you out of his head somehow. But instead he thinks about how many times you didn’t pick up on his hints, and he gets frustrated. He knows you’ve noticed. So why haven’t you done anything?

“Why do you keep rejecting me?” He asks. Your head shoots up, your eyes widening. He regrets what he’s said immediately.

“What?” You say, panic coursing through you. The truth was, you’d been trying to get Ajax to notice the crush you had on him for ages, dropping subtle signs that you were into him every now and then. “If you don’t like me I get it, but you have to stop being so…I don’t know.” He instinctively tries to run his hands through his hair before realizing his beanie is on.

“I..I’m so confused.” You say, trying to get it together as realization sets in. He steps closer. “God! You keep leading me on and then saying we’re just friends! Do you like me or not?” He doesn’t yell, not quite. He would never yell at you. But he’s frustrated, and it’s obvious. It’s not your fault, really. You’d both been misreading the situation forever.

“You like me back?” You say, happiness overwhelming you. His anger disappears, and he walks closer to you.

“God you can be so oblivious.” He groans. You move your face closer to him, smiling. “But you still like me.” You whisper to him, and he grins. “Yeah I do.” You kiss him, happily. You stay like that till you both need to come up for air. He looks away before asking, “do you want to go to the Rave’n with me?” You feel ecstatic as you nod, blushing a deep shade of scarlet. He smiles impossibly wider and reconnects your lips eagerly. Then another question pops into his head. He wishes they would stop so he can just enjoy the moment, the feel of your soft lips against his, but he feels inclined to ask.

“I thought you liked Tyler?” You grin at him as you readjust yourself onto his lap so you can kiss easier.“No, I just wanted to see if that would make you angry.” Relief flows through him. “Did it?” His hands press against your waist. “I don’t know, did it?” You reply against his lips. He doesn’t respond beyond pressing another fervent kiss against your lips, and that’s enough.

[afewproblems]

50. "I need you to forgive me."

You know why...

But please!!!

I know this took forever so I hope you will forgive me! (Also when I originally received this ask I had just posted part one and mentioned in the tags that prompt 50 could be a good 'fix-it' prompt for a follow up, and well, here we are! Also when I received it, I laughed for a solid minute, like evil laughed so thank you @happymediummm )

Part Three of Prompt 53. 'I'm flirting with you!'

Part One, Part Two

It's on Friday that the cavalry arrives.

Dustin bangs on Eddie's bedroom door, with a mace by the sounds of it.

He's about to snark that Dustin doesn't play a class that uses martial weapons when he hears the kid yell--

"Eddie! You have five seconds before I come in there and get you myself, I got your uncle's permission and everything!"

Eddie groans and detaches himself from the bed  flipping the pillow he had been wallowing in away from himself.

He stomps towards the door and flings it open, leveling an unimpressed glare at Dustin who barrels past him into the bedroom.

Dustin crosses to the desk, his head on a swivel as he looks around the small space, Eddie scoffs as he steps towards Dustin, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What the hell are you doing Henderson?" Eddie spits out as Dustin shrugs his hand off, he seems to spy what he's looking for as he crows a single, 'Aha,' and makes his way to the dresser.

"Seriously, Dustin, what are you doing here?"

"Saving you from yourself dude," Dustin scoffs as he takes a tape out of his pants pocket, the familiar writing on the label makes Eddie's stomach fall into his feet.

It's Steve's tape.

"No, nope, absolutely not," Eddie snaps. 

He reaches for the cassette in Dustin's hand, only for the little shit to spin away from him and toss the tape from his right to his left hand in a move that seems so much like the teen's babysitter that Eddie wants to scream.

Dustin manages to pop the tape into the player and hit play before Eddie can get close again.

A few notes of a bass guitar reach Eddie's ear and his hands drop from Dustin's shoulders as he perks up…he knows this song.

"What the fuck Henderson?" He breathes out with wide eyes that flick back and forth between him and the cassette player.

'Oh yeah!

Some people say my love cannot be true

Please believe me, my love, and i'll show you

I will give you those things you thought unreal

The sun, the moon, the stars all bear my seal--'

"You are being an idiot," Dustin says matter of factly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he frowns at Eddie, "I don't exactly know what you said, but I think I got the gist out of Steve earlier today when Robin wasn't acting like a guard dog". 

His dark blue eyes scan Eddie as he shakes his head, "you thought it was a joke, do you know Steve?"

Eddie rolls his eyes before crossing to the cassette player and slapping the stop button. All at once the sounds of Black Sabbath halt, leaving the room in tense silence. 

"Look," Eddie snarls, "I've known people like Steve over the years, it's all the same bullshit--"

"Stop it!" Dustin snaps, he steps closer to Eddie and jabs a finger into his chest, "you don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

Dustin's cheeks are flushed with anger as he shakes his head again, "he's nothing like that Eddie, you're being an asshole!"

"What is all the yellin' about?" Wayne's voice trickles through the door, a hint of concern running through it as he leans against the frame, eyeing both Eddie and Dustin warily. 

"When I gave you permission to barge in here I don't remember agreeing to participate in a screamin' match son,” Wayne says, biting back a smile at the indignant expression on Dustin's face.

"Sorry Mr. Munson, but Eddie's being an idiot!" Dustin crosses his arms once more as he looks from Eddie to Wayne challengingly.

"That so?" Wayne laughs, "care to argue the charge," he directs at Eddie who rolls his eyes.

"It's nothing Wayne, Dustin is leaving now--" 

"Steve made that tape for you," Dustin yells, pointing at the cassette player, "and you threw it in his face!"��

"That true Ed?"

"It was a stupid joke," Eddie growls as Dustin throws his hands up in the air, "it doesn't mean anything". 

Wayne looks at Eddie for a long moment, his face unreadable.

"Steve Harrington?" He asks softly. 

Dustin nods nervously at Wayne before shooting another glare at Eddie.

"The one that came by your hospital room every day till you woke up Ed? The one they couldn't get to leave on the day you opened your eyes, that Steve Harrington?" 

"So?" Eddie huffs, wrapping his own arms around his chest tightly, incredibly aware of the two pairs of eyes trained on him.

 "Wayne, you told me I had to be careful of who I opened myself up to, I'm just following your advice!" 

Wayne sighs, lifting his hand to pinch into his eyes.

"You'd be lucky to have a friend like Steve," Dustin grumbles as he moves to the bed to sit down. He pulls up his legs up to his chest and glares at the back of Eddie's head.

"Kid, I think Ed and I need to have a conversation, alone," Wayne says quietly to Dustin.

Eddie watches in fascination as Dustin opens his mouth to argue, but after whatever silent conversation takes place between the teen and his uncle, Dustin merely huffs and slips off the bed. 

"Listen to the damn tape and get your head out of your ass," Dustin bites out as he passes Eddie, he levels one last impressive glare at the metal-head before leaving the room.

Wayne sighs as he makes his way over to the bed to sit, taking over Dustin's vacated spot.

"So, Harrington, huh?"

Eddie scowls and says nothing, leaning against the dresser. He winces as the sudden weight of his shoulder jostles everything, causing his loose D&D dice to fall off the edge and plink and plunk across the floor of his room.

The D4 will be a bitch to accidentally find with his feet later on, but Eddie ignores the mess and continues brooding against the dresser.

Wayne scratches his face, tapping an unsteady rhythm against his jean clad knee with his other hand, "okay," Wayne says gruffly from the bed as he shifts to stand. 

"I don't know what ya did or said, but it was enough to make that kid beg his way in here," Wayne huffs, hooking a thumb over his shoulder at the open door. 

Eddie shrugs, refusing to lift his gaze from the floor. He hears Wayne sigh and the shift of fabric as he steps closer. 

"You were so small," Wayne mutters suddenly. 

Eddie looks up in confusion, but Wayne isn't looking at him, his eyes are trained just over Eddie's shoulder.

"When you came home that day, all black and blue," he shrugs and scratches his face again, "I didn't know how to help ya, and you wouldn't explain". 

Eddie swallows roughly, horrified at the sudden brightness of his uncle's eyes. A man he has only seen cry twice since he's known him, the first time was at Eddie's mothers funeral, the other was the day Eddie woke up at the hospital all those months ago. 

"I don't think I could stand it if anything happened to you Ed," Wayne breathes out wetly now as he roughly scrubs at his face, "and you being in the hospital, you were suddenly that small kid again, standing on my porch all black and blue". 

Eddie feels his own eyes sting as his uncle turns slightly to wipe his face again, "What are you saying?"

"You weren't alone this time, Ed," Wayne says softly as he steps towards his nephew and grasps him gently by the shoulders, "you have so many more people looking out for you, hell --one of em' carried you home". 

"I think a person like that deserves at least a chance to know you, and to see what I see".

It's Eddie's turn to swipe at his misty eyes, "What's that?" He asks with an unconvincing cough to hide the wobble in his voice.

Wayne smiles, giving Eddie's shoulders a soft squeeze, "a damn good kid with a big heart, who I hope knows how to apologize when it's needed".

"But what if you're wrong?"

"Then I'm wrong, and we'll get through it," Wayne tugs Eddie towards him without warning into a tight hug and reaches behind Eddie to press play on the cassette player; the sound of guitar and drums begin again as Ozzy's voice fills the room. 

'Your love for me has just got to be real

Before you know the way I'm going to feel--'

"But for the record kid, I don't think I am".

***

Eddie listens to the tape. 

He listens to it again and again, both sides. Steve filled both sides with music for him…

He lays on his bed while it plays, staring a hole into the ceiling as the last few piano notes ring out before the tape stops, filling the room with silence.

The songs don't all go with one another and out of a dozen there's about eight he knows. The other four seem to be a mixture of songs he's heard Steve play in the beemer with the kids, or while dancing in his kitchen with Robin.

it's not an expert mix by any means, but Steve did manage to collect a decent amount of metal songs just for Eddie and even a one he's never heard before --since when did Scorpions write love songs? 

After hours alone in his room, sitting on his bed, listening to Steve's tape over and over again, there is one thing he can't deny.

Steve Harrington has feelings for him…had feelings for him, and Eddie ruined it. 

He wants to take the version of himself that pushed Steve away and shake him. 

Eddie winces as he pictures the devastated expression on Steve's face when he left. His normally bright hazel eyes and wide goofy grin were left pinched with hurt.

Eddie had done that, taken six months of tentative friendship, of lingering glances and soft teasing smiles -how had he missed those, and tossed this delicate thing away from himself like it was nothing. 

He looks over at the glowing green hands of the clock by his bed. It’s nearly midnight; Dustin left a few hours ago now and Wayne is now at work. 

Eddie breathes out a sigh through his nose as a sudden wave of determination flows through him.

He looks towards the far wall by the door, his Sweetheart hanging up on her hooks. 

Dustin had apparently insisted on grabbing it, doubling back on a severely sprained ankle while Nancy tore a verbal strip off his back for wasting time as an unconscious Eddie slowly continued to bleed out in Steve's arms.

Eddie shivers, it had been so strange to consider everything that happened, or what he was told happened during the gap in his memory. 

Steve had been the one to carry him out while Robin and Nancy helped compress the worst of his wounds with torn fabric and left over gauze from the patch job they had done for Steve.

He vaguely remembers a string of words, a whispered sentence that made no sense as Eddie drifted in and out of consciousness but now…

'You can't do this, come on Munson, open those stupid beautiful eyes of yours, who's going to yell at us about the corruption of youth in America huh? We need you man, I-I….'

Eddie had really been so fucking clueless. 

He gets up from the bed and crosses to the wall, taking the guitar off the hooks. 

At least now, he has a plan.

***

It was a shit plan.

Cutting down the road the kids had taken to calling Mirkwood and through the woods by Loch Nora seemed pretty sound in theory, giving Eddie the element of surprise and hiding him from any watchful neighborhood eyes. 

What he had not taken into account, however, was the pitch darkness, the unfamiliar maze of trees he now found himself in, and how fucking heavy his portable amp was going to be.

Perfect.

Eddie stumbles over a fallen log, nearly careening into the mulch and rotting leaves of the forest floor. The half moon above him, not nearly enough to light his path through the thicket.

At least this version of the woods feels alive, Eddie thinks to himself; the smell of damp dirt and the sound of frogs and crickets singing in the darkness is infinitely more appealing than the strange forest they had found themselves in a mere six months prior. And with the gates finally sealed, the most dangerous thing he could come across would probably be a rattler or a coyote. 

Eddie peers around at the thought, he's not quite sure he's entirely comfortable even running into those animals anytime soon…especially the snake.

Finally, after another ten minutes of walking, warm yellow light begins to sift through the trees ahead of him as he brushes away low branches from his field of vision. 

Eddie hikes up the guitar strap higher up his shoulder and steps fully into the light that illuminates the Harrington backyard lawn and pool.

Eddie scans the back of the house, flipping the mental map of the Harrington home around to visualize which window was most likely to be for Steve's bedroom.

He steps further into the yard, setting down the heavy amp onto the concrete patio before leaning down to grab a handful of wood chips from the shrubs next to the house.

Here goes nothing.

Eddie tosses one of the pieces of wood at the window above him. 

It barely connects with the windowsill before dropping back down onto the patio with a muted clack. 

Oh this is humiliating.

He tries again and again to hit Steve's window with the wood chips in his hand, each one completely misses the target. One bounces into the eavestrough, another careens off the siding and back into the pool behind Eddie. 

"Fuck this," Eddie growls, throwing the rest of the wood chips back into the shrubs as he snatches the cord for his amp and shoves the plug into the nearest outdoor outlet. 

He turns the volume down slightly, the plan won't work if the cops get called on him immediately. 

Eddie takes the guitar off his back and plucks a few notes, adjusting one of the tuning keys until the sound is just right.

"Here goes nothing, come on Stevie," Eddie whispers as he begins to play. 

"I hear the ticking' of the clock, I'm lying here the room's pitch dark," he sings softly, strumming out the cords, it's slightly harsher than the piano but sue him, Eddie only managed to play it once through by ear at home before he left the house.

This was Steve's last track on the tape, and Eddie's sure he put it there for a reason.

He listened to the song again and again, slowly picking up the cords as he did so. 

He could do this, he picked up Master of Puppets in just a few weeks, Eddie could handle Heart.

Eddie keeps going, his voice carries over the yard, growing in volume; so much so that he misses the patio door slowly slide open and the sound of a pair of feet padding onto the patio. 

"What are you doing here?" Steve's voice calls out to Eddie from the door, he jumps, nearly dropping the guitar. His hand jolts on the strings as Eddie attempts to keep his hold on the instrument, letting the guitar scream for him.

Steve stares at him as Eddie unplugs the amp cord and swings the guitar around his back once more with shaking hands, his thoughts spinning, trying to figure out how to start.

"I listened to the tape," Eddie says softly, Steve cocks his head slightly to better hear him, his face shuttering as the words register.  

Eddie's heart races as he watches Steve begin to turn towards the patio door once more, he needs to act fast.

"And I need you to forgive me," he blurts out, louder than he intends, but Steve does pause with his hands on the door handle.

"Why's that?" He says sharply, dropping his hand away from the door, turning to fully face Eddie once more.

Eddie chews his lip nervously as Steve's gaze hardens the longer they stand in silence, his arms come up to wrap around his chest tightly.

"I thought you were playing a prank," Eddie sighs, saying it aloud makes him want to deflate, to walk right into the pool and sink to the bottom. 

If the look Steve gives him is any indication, Steve would be more than happy to watch him go.

"That's a lot of effort to put into a fucking prank Munson," Steve bites out, there is no heat to the words though. He just sounds tired, resigned.

Shit.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Eddie mumbles, he reaches up to scrub his hand over his face, missing the way Steve's face softens ever so slightly and his arms drop from the way they seem to be holding him together. 

"But I'm not going to make excuses," Eddie takes a step closer to Steve, his heart threatening to break through his ribcage the closer he gets, "I'm sorry for how I reacted and for thinking you could do something like that".

"I know you aren't like that, you're honest, and kind," Eddie reaches out and takes the tape from his back pocket and gestures towards Steve with it, "and so fucking thoughtful it makes me ache to think I ruined everything". 

He puts the tape back in his pocket, Steve’s eyes watch him curiously now as he does, it fills him with wary hope, enough to keep talking. 

"So, I need you to forgive me Steve, because I hope you'll let me make it up to you sweetheart".

Steve's face tips down suddenly towards his socked feet and the cold concrete patio, making it impossible for Eddie to make out his expression. He holds his breath as the silence stretches between them.

"Robin was right, you can be such an asshole," Steve says quietly, Eddie's chest tightens painfully at the words.

Eddie nods once,doing everything in his power to keep his face neutral but the downward curl of his lip is unstoppable as he reaches down to pick up the amp.

"But," Steve says, taking a step away from the door behind him, "as someone who was an asshole for a long time," Steve says quietly, pressing the palm of his hand into his chest, "I think it would be pretty hypocritical to not let you make it up to me".

He's grinning now. It’s small, barely stretching across Steve's freckled face, but it's warm and just for Eddie. 

"What did you have in mind, Sweetheart?" 

Steve is quiet for a moment, his eyes dart over Eddie's face before he finally whispers, "can you finish the song Eds?" 

"I think that can be arranged, " Eddie hums with a bright grin of his own. 

He swings the guitar off his back again, quickly plugging it into the amp. 

Eddie looks up to find Steve smiling softly at him as he takes a seat on one of the pool loungers. He pulls his legs up to rest his arms on his knees, basking in his own private concert. 

As the first pink and orange rays of sunrise begin to bloom on the horizon behind him, slowly painting Steve's face gold, Eddie can't help the relief that flows through him. 

He looks down at the shy grin Steve gives him, his hazel eyes bright in the new day's light, and thinks, 'holy shit, I almost missed this'.

"You don't know how long I have wanted, to touch your lips and hold you tight," he picks up where he left off, his voice mixing with the slow rhythm of the guitar, “you don't know how long I have waited, and I was going to tell you tonight--”

Eddie watches, surprised as Steve swiftly gets up from the lounger and walks towards him, his expression determined.

"I think that's my line," Steve whispers as he leans in to cup Eddie's face in his hands and kisses him.

Eddie short-circuits.

The kiss is chaste, short, not much more than the brief press of warm chapped lips against Eddie's own, but the way Steve lets his hands move from Eddie's face to his hair and neck, holding him in place. The way Steve steps into Eddie's space so all he can taste, smell, and feel is Steve.

It’s exhilarating.  

Steve pulls back slightly before placing a second kiss on Eddie's lips, his eyes half lidded and a deep red flush staines his cheeks and ears a bright red. Steve looks much more debauched than necessary and Eddie suddenly wishes they weren't outside, that he could take Steve into the house and show him exactly how sorry he is. 

"I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait, did you learn all of them or just that one?" Steve asks, his voice slightly breathy, he still hasn't let go of Eddie or stepped away.

"Just that one," Eddie repeats dumbly, feeling the urge to walk into the pool again as Steve laughs.

Oh Eddie loves that laugh.

“You sure,” Steve asks again, his eyes crinkle at the sides as he smiles widely, “I thought maybe you could show me some of the other songs you know, inside?”

Either he’s dreaming or Steve is a mind reader because holy shit.

Eddie nods, unable to even form the words as Steve reaches for the amp and gently takes it out of his hands. Steve transfers the amp to his right hand and takes Eddie’s now empty hand with his left as he leads him towards the patio door.

Eddie watches, transfixed, as Steve looks back to shoot him another warm smile as they step over the threshold of the back door, and the words his uncle said earlier in the evening come back to him as Steve leads him towards the living room. 

‘I think a person like that deserves at least a chance to know you, and to see what I see’.

Eddie halts his movement, grabbing Steve’s hand firmly in his own, pulling him backwards until Steve turns, his eyebrows furrowed in wary confusion.

“Thank you, for giving me another chance,” Eddie says softly. He lets the hand holding Steve's own move to trail up and down his arm, eliciting a shiver from Steve. 

“I mean, you gave me one, you came back right?” Steve says softly. 

Eddie's heart twists at the words, he feels his face fall slightly at the thought that Steve could ever think he was somehow at fault for this, “I was an idiot, that wasn’t your fault at all sweetheart”.

Steve looks at him again, his eyes scanning Eddie’s own for what feels like ages, his expression unreadable. 

“Co’mere,” he murmurs eventually, letting go of Eddie to sit on the couch. He pats the cushion beside him, with the same soft smile from earlier, “play some music for me”.

There’s more to unpack here, more to talk about, other apologies to whisper in this beautiful man's ear. 

But for now, he swings his guitar in front of him and slowly walks over to Steve.

Steve asked for music, and who is Eddie not to oblige?

@ihavekidneys @superchellerific @zerokrox-blog @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @croatoan-like-its-hot @messrs-weasley @samcoxramblings @warlordess @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @lostonceandneverfound @shunna @fairytalesreality @estrellami-1 @rlpersephone3259 @zaphodkilledthespeedforce @newtstabber @grtwdsmwhr @uwujinniee @anica-d @imzadidragonfly @orangeandthefairroadkill @starman-jpg @nabatute @goodolefashionedloverboi @wheatnoodle @novacorpsrecruit @lolawonsstuff @redlegumes @paintsplatteredandimperfect @scheodingers-muppet @thephantomhood @0o-queendean-o0 @blackholegladiator @nerdfighteratheart @hallucinatedjosten

(I hope I haven't forgotten anyone, thank you very much for following along with this little story everyone!)

[sadie-bug345]

I love your headcanons! They’re so goofy but character accurate. Anyway I was wondering if you’d maybe do all the greasers + Cherry with a trad goth/alt s/o hcs? Thank you so much!!! 🖤🖤🖤

omg hiiii and your wish is my command‼️🥰

the greasers (+cherry baby) w trad goth / alt s/o!!

ponyboy: - the second you moved into town he was like obsessed - just cause your vibe wasn’t like anyone else’s he’d really met - so he worked up the nerve to talk to you thinking you’d like shun him (bro was fr going thru ALL the possible rejection that could happen😭) - he was like “…hi🖐️😀” and just stood there sweatin up a storm LMAO - and you’re just like “hello?🧍‍♀️” - LOVE CONNECTION INSTANT - yall are the sweetest together and pony’s wardrobe changes a little so it’s more like yours - just cause he loves the way it looks on you sm.

johnny: - your vibe fits his (and dally’s but that’s later🤫) really well - so when he first saw you his exact thoughts were like “man. she’s cool” - so my guy went thru all of ponyboys yearbooks like just trying to find out anything and everything abt you - clubs, sports, music, voted most likely to’s…you name it johnny found it cause he was too scared to approach you at first - pony walked in on him scavenging last years yearbook and was like 😐 this has gotta end my boy - so after some aggressive encouragement from dally, johnny approached you and you guys really hit it off - you guys are like the gangs power couple FOR SURE - everyone loves your style and vibe but johnny especially, duh!

sodapop: - this is definitely an opposites attract sitch - like johnny he saw you and was like “i gotta find out more” cause he had never dated anyone like you before - he probably went up to talk to you and accidentally spilled about how he knew you were in middle school band and played the clarinet but switched to the flute halfway thru seventh grade or smth😭😭🫶 - yall definitely turn heads when you guys are hanging out together - no one can deny the cuteness😔🖐️

darry: -my guy is a little more conservative when it comes to style - we know he be dressing like a divorced dad out here - BUT he noticed you around town and was def intrigued - totally starts listening to the music you like just to have a conversation starter - this boy PLANS - after a while of you guys dating you give him a lil makeover and it’s very sweet (especially cause he needed the wardrobe refresh🫢)

dally: - your vibe and his is super similar, or at least he thinks he’s as effortlessly cool as you🙄 - anyways he was fr like “now this is the kinda person i wanna know” - didn’t need any encouragement to go talk to you *cough* johnny *cough* - either way he tried to start up a convo all “smooth” or whatever and you’re just like “😳uhm anyways…” - kinda gave him the humbling he needs but you thought his unrealized awkwardness was cute - you guys are birds of a feather but he definitely loves showing you off to his friends - just cause he thinks you’re like, actually the coolest - he won’t tell you how he feels but it’s obvious.

two-bit: - this guy is so goofy - sees you from across the room and starts cracking the LOUDEST and DUMBEST jokes just to see you hopefully smile - and he’s funny so you’re like halfway cringing but also halfway dying laughing - you’re probably like “who even is this kid💀” LMAO - anyways after he saw you laugh my dude just talks your ear off - after you get a few words in about your interests and general style bro was so obsessed - he didn’t really think he’d like a girl with your style but he was wronggg - you guys have probably the most fun together out of the group ngl.

steve: - probably heard abt you from soda - LIVES for your outfits like he’s so obsessed he’s like “hmm i wonder what they’re gonna wear today” - just cause he thinks you’re so cool and unique - definitely frequents the places you usually hang out just in the hopes of “casually” running into you LMAO - you guys are super cute though like no one really expected it - which makes it so much better.

cherry: - being a cheerleader she doesn’t usually date people with your style - her exes just are kinda basic - BUT she saw you and was like “oh. so i’m like in love” - HOPELESS ROMANTIC CHERRY🫶😭 - it was like a rom com she like did an actual double take - after you guys start dating you two do everything together - you give her makeovers like all the time - it’s so sweeeeet - plus you kinda revamp her wardrobe - dw she still has THE cherry valance vibe - but she matches your outfits in the little details - matching rings, necklaces, skirts, shoes, anything.

thanks so much to the wonderful person who requested this!! my requests are always open!🧌🥰🫶

[spaceagesparkledust]

Random Doctor Who hcs: Sleep (Doctor edition!)

Does 9 sleep? Like. Like does he actually sleep??? 

The answer is no. 

“I don’t need to sleep I’m Time Lord.” he says with bags under his eyes. 

Gets nightmares pretty often when he does sleep.

Will take short little nod offs in the console room. 

Sleeps/relaxes in his leather jacket and jeans. Rose thinks this is so weird and gets on him for it all the time. She winds up buying him a soft jumper on some planet they stop at. He shows up in sweatpants and the jumper one day and rose and Jack just stare at him for a hot minute because he looks so wrong. “He looks so naked.” Nine gets so offended about it (they’re trying to say he looks fine but yeah they're laughing a bit). “You just look so…normal.” “Oi!” “No, no it’s not bad. S’ different.”

He actually learns how to relax a bit. He considers it a bit domestic, a lot domestic actually, and he looks so unintimidating in sweatpants but……maybe. 

Ten. Oh Ten. 

Dude got a pair of pajamas on his first day of being alive and has kept them ever since. They’re his favorite. He loves them so much that Rose has to take TenToo to go find a pair like them. 

Stays up with Rose talking about the most random things. Rose listens as long as she is able before she falls asleep. Her favorite lullaby :)

Like 9, he’d rather be tinkering with the Tardis than sleeping so he mostly does that. But he has taken up reading. Twilight’s getting wild. 

Has thought about asking to sleep with Rose. As in next to Rose. on the same bed. He immediately talked himself out of it. 

Martha has to make him sleep. “You just got possessed by a sun go to bed!” 

Generally sleeps less while Martha’s on board.

Gets bored and walks into Donna’s room to talk to her while Donna’s trying to go to bed. She indulges him sometimes but other times she just wants to go to bed. 

Has fallen asleep during movie nights with Donna and has denied it. 

Sleepovers with Donna. 

Cuddles :) 

Incredibly sleep deprived throughout the whole mess that is post-journey’s end. Like emotionally sleep deprived. Desperately in need of a nap. 

11 HATES sleeping. Hates it. If he’s sleeping, he’s going to be still, and if he’s going to be still, he’ll start thinking and we can’t have that. So he just…doesn’t. 

To keep himself occupied while traveling without Amy and Rory he tried going to sleep. It was a very bad, no good, horrible experience for him and he decided he just simply would never do that again. Hasn’t been in his room since. 

Will nod off from time to time but will not go to bed. Rory gets a bit concerned but maybe this is normal for time lords. Who’s he to say?

Trying to put him to bed is like working with a fussy toddler. You will have to cajole and shove and push and bribe him and it will not work. Just give up. 

Thinks pajamas look nice but has no need for them because he doesn’t sleep. 

The experience with the Dream Lord was enough for him thanks. 

12? Doesn’t sleep. Sleep is for the weak. 

Absolutely falls asleep standing up. 

Tries an energy drink once. Gets addicted. Is banned from energy drinks from now on. 

He and Clara pull the worst all-nighters you’ve ever seen. Its fun for them. 

Doesn’t own pajamas but he does own a really corny t-shirt Clara bought him that he would wear if he did sleep. But he doesn’t. So. 

Fourteen NEEDS a nap. Desperately. 

Is incredibly tired but has so much trouble going to sleep its unreal. 

Will stay up stargazing or tinkering with things in the house that don’t need to be tinkered with. Takes apart every appliance in the house until Donna and Sylvia yell at him to stop. 

Sleeps in an actual bed in an actual house because Donna made him. She was not about to have him sleep in the TARDIS.

Rose makes him a blanket fort in the living room. 

She stuffs it full of stuffed animals and puts up fairy lights. “It’s bigger on the inside.” 

It’s incredibly comfortable but unfortunately for every other member of the house it takes up a good chunk of space. (Rose and the Doctor do catch everyone getting a lot of use out of it though)

Lives in hand-me down pajamas until he can get his own but secretly loves the hand-me down pajamas

[engeorged]

Dear Nate

(Sequel to Dear Alex)

Dear Nate

I’ve just read your letter and I’m shocked. Maybe not for the reason you think I’m shocked though? Don’t get me wrong, I’m seriously pissed that you drugged me man. Like, I should phone the police really but I needed to write back properly. I have my own confession to make.

You’re right that when we moved in together after college, it was a tenuous friendship. Like we knew each other but not that well. I thought it was worth a try and after a few months we had hit it off so it was all good.

If I’m totally honest I had no idea you felt jealous of me like that. I thought we were buddies and I feel a bit let down that you felt you needed to even the playing field. For my part I always thought we were on the same page on most things?

Here’s the thing. When I started my new job and I started putting weight on, at first I felt super vulnerable. I’d always been into the gym and the only time I’d ever had any extra weight was during bulking season and that disappeared pretty quickly. Like, I’d get to pig out for a bit and enjoy myself and then it was back on the weights so I could bulk up. When I found myself sporting a permanent pot gut I was ashamed and embarrassed. I thought when you were looking at me you were just a bit grossed out by it and felt awful. But then truth be told, as time went on, I actually felt quite free. I’d never really minded watching my weight before but the release of not having to record every calorie I ate in an app was so freeing. After a while I actually started loving my little belly! It felt good to eat and it felt good to have a little timber. Dad bods are in after all!

To hear that in those early stages you were encouraging me to eat is intriguing to me. I knew you were generous with the shopping and the cooking but at that stage I just saw it as you being a great room mate! I had no idea you were doing this intentionally or that you were being vindictive.

I guess it’s time for my confession. When you started putting the gainer shake in my food, that’s when I found out what you were doing. How did you think that I wouldn’t realise? I’ve been using that stuff for years. I can taste it in anything! At first I thought it was just a mistake but then I started tasting it in everything. I confused at first but then it dawned on me that you were lacing my food and I was all set to confront you but it got me thinking. Why would you do that? I then started remembering all the times you’d encouraged me to have an extra potion of something. Or you’d replenished the snacks during the game. I began to notice you checking me out and looking at my belly.

Here’s the thing. I didn’t hate it.

If anything I started to enjoy the attention. The only thing I couldn’t work out was whether you were fattening me up because you hated me or because you liked me and wanted me bigger. So I stared laying traps of my own to see if I could work you out. I began eating more and more to see if you would respond or not. Pretending not to notice that you were constantly plying me with food or putting more unopened beers on the table. You aren’t as subtle as you think you know! I even tried walking round the apartment with my belly on show when I’d stuffed myself to see if you would look or not. And dude, you couldn’t keep your eyes off it! Your eyes followed me round the room like a teenager on heat. That’s when I knew you were into me and the belly.

So I kept it up. I let you stuff me and feed me and get me bloated up every night. And as I leant in to it, I began to enjoy it more and more. The freedom of being able to eat as much as I wanted, whenever I wanted. The feel of my belly getting more and more distended as I packed it full of fattening snacks. The satisfaction of laying back on the sofa totally engorged and rubbing my belly till I felt a little hungry again. I fucking loved it. I even found myself dreaming of eating. Stuffing my face with unreal quantities of food. I’d wake up with wet sheets I was so turned in by them.

Then last week happened. Whatever you gave me knocked me out to be totally honest. I have a vague recollection of some of it. I remember the chilli and some of the game. I remember feeling ravenous. I think I remember the pizzas and now you’ve told me what happened I think I remember you stuffing me. But honestly it was a blur. What I do remember is waking up in the morning the size of a house! Whatever was in those tablets should be illegal. By belly was so distended and hard I couldn’t believe it. I managed to get myself into the shower and take care of it but it wasn’t till after all that that I found your letter.

Now I need you to hear me. What you did was unacceptable. You can’t drug me again without my permission. But that aside, I think I need you to know that I’ve enjoyed the last 12 months more than I’ve ever enjoyed anything in my life. And really, I knew what you were doing and I let you do it. I am so turned on by my new size and a big part of that is having someone do that to me.

It’s gonna take a while to trust you again I think but I’m willing to try to forgive you if you can forgive me for not letting on to you that I knew what you were doing.

I’ve not seen you for a few days but if you get this and your down, I’ve booked a table at the all you can eat Chinese buffet in town for 7pm. If you wanna talk this through then meet me there.

Oh and bring those tablets.

Yours hopefully

Alex

For the rest of my stories click here

[marknee]

bts fanfics i think shakespeare is rolling around in his grave about right now.

chapter i. ✷ chapter iii.

KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:

( ✮ ) — dude, what has that grave ever done to you?

( ♬ ) — i think we broke him.

( ✎ ) — he hasn’t moved in a while. should i check on him?

( ♛ ) — he’s deceased. again. dunno if that’s possible.

THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.

WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content will be highlighted in bold.

NOTE: yes, this is a series now. exciting, am i right? i fear there are too many incredible fics on this app to fit them into one part, so this will be multiple parts — you can access the masterlist above! leggo.

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( ✮ ) CASTAWAYS — by @rmnamjoons

!! namjoon x reader | 25.5k !!

smut (18+) with plot, slow burn, fluff, angst if you squint, happy ending, so much teasing.

you ever seen the 2000 film ‘cast away’? the one with tom hanks and his inanimate volleyball named wilson? yeah, this fic is exactly what that film should’ve been. it largely lacked the existence of namjoon, and the undeniable sexual tension we were denied for a throwing ball.

namjoon’s characterisation in this is unreal. he’s so gentle and tender with his words, yet so rough and unforgiving within the sheets. you almost don’t realise it’s the same person, but am i complaining? not really. quite the contrary actually.

also, i like that it’s very realistic in some aspects. everything they do to survive on an island is exactly what you imagine yourself doing if you were dropped into their shoes, lost and fearful that any moment might just be your last.

though i went through years of scouting myself, i do not feel i am equipped enough to survive on a deserted island with an embarrassingly hot guy i met days prior. but if miss y/n can do it with less experience than i, then o ye of little faith.

i wish i could engrave this fic into my brain so i can read it whenever i please, so i guess i’m just lucky it exists here on tumblr for free. an honour, really.

@rmnamjoons has outdone themselves yet again.

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( ♬ ) TAMPED — by @chimoona

!! jungkook x reader | 19.7k !!

smut (18+), fluff, humour, slow burn, mild angst/jealously, barista!au, lil bit of yoongi smut.

never mind shakespeare, this fic had me rolling around in my grave. and i’m not even dead.

if you had to choose any piece of advice to take away from this essay, let it be do not read fics like this in public. or in the presence of literally anybody. you will either a) start kicking your legs and squealing, or b) throw your phone and need a moment to compose yourself. learn from me, yes?

min yoongi is the funniest mf in this, especially in the way he teases the reader about not having been laid in a millennium. he makes this fic just an absolute treat to read. and the friendship with seokjin is so incredibly warming. you can feel the fondness they have for each other bursting through the pages (…screen? have i said that before?).

but, undoubtedly, what pulls everything together is the relationship between the reader and jungkook. it starts as toleration, then care, before it blooms into tenderness and finally, love. and you can’t get enough. of them and of the story.

you can’t help but fall in love yourself. definitely worth a read.

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( ✮ ) ADJUSTMENT — by @yminie

!! hoseok x reader | 7.1k !!

smut (18+), fluff, chiropractor!hoseok, patient!reader.

the fact the authors note is, “promise it’s not a cheesy porno,” needs a mention of its own. it made me laugh, and it definitely lived up to that statement. it was better than a cheesy porno.

this fic alone at 7k does what some 20k+ fics fail to do. and that’s a talent, truly. i swear, there were moments i felt as if i was third-wheeling and intruding on something very private and very personal. i probably should’ve walked out that doctors room and left them to it.

i think i’ve said it before, but this is another great example of a good smut laced within a good plot. it was interesting, hooked you in, and left you feeling quite satisfied. content is the word i think i should say.

shame shakespeare never wrote smut, but also not really because we have authors like this who do it better.

@yminie, i’ll be keeping my eye on you. an incredible fic, really.

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( ♛ ) WATERLOO — by @kinktae

!! art prodigy!taehyung x art student!reader | 13k !!

fluff, angst, some light smut, slow burn.

this was one of the first fanfics i ever read on this app. and that was what? a few years ago? wow. i’m old.

now, my memory isn’t incredible, but the fact this is one of the few fics i remember reading in a fandom i was unfamiliar to all those years ago, says a lot. about the story, the writing, and the author.

waterloo was like a soft push of the hand that guided me into the world of bts fanfics, and for that, i’m eternally grateful. i’ve never been one to dive into things straight away. i like guidance. i like ease.

so, my dear reader, if you have any friends who’re just getting into tumblr fics about bts and need that sturdy push, i solely advise you recommend this to them. but if not, this is a great fic to read otherwise.

it’s angsty, it’s cheesy, it’s cute, and it’s memorable. who doesn’t love an art prology taehyung? people who’re boring, that’s who.

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( ♛ ) FROM EDEN — by @ddaenggtan

!! hoseok x yoongi x reader | 15.6k !!

greek god au, hades!reader, thanatos!hoseok, persephone!yoongi, smut, fluff, angst, violence.

anyone else go through a greek god phase? i consumed all those stories like they were my breakfast. and as you would have it, my favourite to read about was the story of hades and persephone, also known as the coming of spring and winter.

this fic is genuinely so addictive and it really knocks the tag ‘greek god!au’ out the park. it does an amazing job of representing the story we all know and love, while adding some adaptations of its own, giving the story a unique twist.

i would happily write a five thousand word essay on how much i adore bangtan as greek gods, but i fear what would become of me if i did. so i shall not. for both my sake and yours.

as shakespeare never said, but lady gaga did: talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique.. etc.

and yoongi, for heavens sake, no pomegranates!

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( ✎ ) VOID — by @btssavedmylifeblr (series)

!! bts x reader | 82k !!

space!au, science fiction, a lot of smut (18+), angst.

one of the reasons why i created this series is so i can do one of my favourite things ever: share what i love. i think there something so beautiful in the art of spreading appreciation. and usually, my friends were the ones who had to listen to these essays before you did, sweet reader. and this fic was one of those i didn’t shut up about.

by the end of my rant about this series, i don’t think they even needed to read it. i’d done it for them simply by talking. which is why, i will keep this short and simple. so i don’t do the same for you.

this series is so well thought out. every little detail, every hurdle in the road, every step seems to have been thought of before hand and it makes the journey that much more gripping. so, kudos to the author for that. extra brownie points.

every member has their role, their part, their moment in the story and they’re all indefinitely important and make up a team. alike bangtan, they’re all needed in order to make the ship work. without one, it’d be going down and they’d all be yelling timber. (love that song).

teamwork makes the dream work, people.

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( ♬ ) PEACHES AND CREAM — by @snackhobi

!! jimin x reader | 9.1k !!

pure smut (18+).

let’s start with three words: lord have mercy. personally, i think that sums everything up pretty well. but if i left it at that, this wouldn’t be an essay now would it? so let’s continue.

the fact this fic was almost called ‘jimin and the fucking peach’ after james and the giant peach deserves extra credit for the absolute monstrosity of a laugh that escaped my mouth after reading that. a missed opportunity, truly.

honestly, jimin and his actions within this fic desperately need examining by a team of scientists in the study of inane methods to get someone’s attention because, and excuse my french, fuck me.

shakespeare was definitely giggling reading this. perhaps even kicking his legs. love that for him.

but, according to the key i put down for this fic, i also think we broke him. understandable, mate. same here. i’ll never be the same.

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( ♛ ) OH MY GOD, THEY WERE (QUARANTINED) ROOMMATES — by @ot7always

!! jungkook x reader | 22.8k !!

college!au, roommates!au, fluff, smut (18+).

the absolute audacity.

the reader really has the gall to sit and complain about what unfortunate circumstances she’s in, all the while she’s stuck with the jeon jungkook of all people. i cannot deal. i wish my quarantine trapped me inside with one of the hottest men on the planet.

apart from that, how can you not love this fic? rhetorical question, dear reader. you can’t.

the undeniable sexual tension that lingers throughout the entirety of this story builds up, like lego pieces on top of one another, until it finally falls and breaks into two. and you can’t reject the satisfaction of it all.

i was lucky enough to have read this two years ago (three now as i’m writing this) while we were actively going through lockdown, and it does an amazing job of describing everything we were all feeling during that time. bored, worried, confused, lonely, frustrated, and horny (…just saying).

it made things a bit more bearable. and it’s got shirtless jungkook.

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( ✎ ) THE WAY TO YOUR HEART — by @joonary

!! yoongi x reader | 9k !!

fluff, humour, office!au, coworkers!au.

the fluffiest fluff that ever did fluff. bet you shakespeare never said that in his life. shame. at least i beat him in something.

believe me when i say i was grinning like an idiot the whole time reading this, with my cheeks lightly aching. with this app filled to the brim with angst and heavier stories, this fic was like a breath of fresh air. a warm, hearty homemade meal after a rough day out in the merciless world.

if you’re in need of a hug but aren’t the physical touch kind of person, the solution is right here, my friend. this fic will rejuvenate your system and make you feel a whole lot better. believe me.

also, can i just say. the author made an impeccable job of leaving me even pickier about attributes of my future spouse than what i started with. like, how am i supposed to explain to someone i want a partner just like this exact, specific version of yoongi? like. i mean this one. all i’ll say is it proves difficult.

@joonary is the shakespeare we needed. instead he wrote romances disguised as tragedies where both parties die at the end. what the fuck.

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( ♛ ) STUCK WITH YOU — by @taleasnewastime

!! seokjin x reader | 29.6k !!

strangers to lovers, smut (18+), angst, fluff.

is anyone else surprised @taleasnewastime is here again? ‘cause i’m not. her work is next level (naevis? is that you?). and i’m not ashamed to say i stalked the entirety of her masterlist after this masterpiece. hint, hint, nudge, nudge, people.

the chemistry etched within this fic is off the charts. everything is there. the banter, the tenderness, the angst, the longing to accept love, the grief. all wrapped into a bundle and gifted with a side of heartache and woe.

we all need a person like seokjin’s character in our lives. someone who lifts us from dark times and (re: figuratively) throws us into the light. i fear helps might be a better option of wording. am i right?

this story dragged my hopeless romantic ass on a one-way skydive to pain. and that’s without a parachute. it was more of a free fall, really.

and i’d most definitely do it again.

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( ♬ ) WRAPPED TOGETHER — by @lemonjoonah

!! namjoon x reader | 18k !!

christmas!au, romance, drama, smut (18+).

you know those people who don’t listen to christmas music during the rest of the year because they swear it brings bad luck? well, they must hate me, ‘cause i’ll happily stream michael bublé’s christmas album in august if i have to. probably explains my bad luck too. great.

my point is, whenever you may be reading this post, whether it’s rainy october or sunny july, this fic is worth all the so-called bad luck.

it’s got the christmas spirit. the jolly music, the beautiful lights, the festive mood. and it’s got namjoon. it’s got namjoon, people! if that’s not tying the knot, then i don’t know what is.

in all seriousness though, i religiously come back to this fic whenever the holidays hit and the radios all over the uk start charting mariah carey and wham!. and it’ll cure any holiday blues.

@lemonjoonah may yet pop up again in this series. their work is definitely worth the time and read(ing?).

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( ✎ ) HERE COMES THE BRIDE, ALL DRESSED IN PRIDE — by @hansolmates

!! jungkook x reader | 17.3k !!

fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating.

“boy, i, boy, i, boy, i know, i know you got the feels.” the feels, twice. literally the first song that came to mind when i finished this fic. and twice never lie.

unpopular opinion (i think?), i’m a sucker for when y/n is petty in fanfics. i love a good revenge story, especially when it’s rightfully deserved, pristinely plated and justly served. you know, all classy like. and this had all that in the bag.

the relationship in this fanfic was so respectful and i loved that. they considered each other’s feelings towards what they were getting into, so that gets a gold star for communication and consideration from me. yass healthy relationship!

shakespeare cannot relate. hence why he’s tagged under ‘hasn’t moved in a while.’ he’s flabbergasted such things exist. since he killed one of the parties in the only healthy relationship he ever wrote. like, bro?

an amazing story yet again from @hansolmates if you’re in need of that satisfaction. (not like that you pervs. i meant revenge).

© marknee, 2023. all rights reserved.

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[maireyart]

Dude, I just had the best image: so it’s Obito-Lives AU, and part of his capture and house arrest and stipulation to his living is all his criminal assets are turned over and searched. That includes Kamui. So Kakashi goes to Kamui to search for the items Obito admitted are stored there, and he returns so appalled. Because, yes, Obito put bodies and important documents and items there, but he also just dumped a lot of junk. There are stacks of old magazines, dirty clothes piles, an assortment of bento box containers that were too nice to throw away, souvenirs from different places, crap Obito stole just for shits and giggles and Kakashi recognizes some of the stuff as things he “misplaced” over the years. “This was my favorite shirt.” “I knew that.”

Hi anon! And I'm sorry it took me so long to reply :3 The way it played out in my imagination was angsty and a little melodramatic, so no funny illustrations this time 😅 Ok, I admit Obito did call his dimension a "trash basket" (屑かご kuzukago) once in canon, and there must have been blood splashes, debris and not only from his battles, but something tells me he didn't use it as a literal trash dump xD (I guess he could just burn all that junk with a good katon jutsu). But I love the idea of him storing there something curious, something unexpected. I imagine he didn't want any reminders of his friendships, after everything... Even for shits and giggles. They could mess with his evil plan. Evoke the memories he didn't want. He was too vicious to be sentimental anymore, but he could take there something accidentally! Imagine the ANBU Kakashi period. Obito was often spying on his old teammate, and at one point he teleported into Kakashi's room to inspect it or look for specific papers and documents he could be interested in. Instead, he found something unrelated to his objective, something personal -- an old letter from Rin to Kakashi (that Kakashi seemed to have been in the mood to reread some time prior, wallowing in his sadness, so it was right on his table). Obito was standing there deep in thought, looking at the letter, absently analyzing the handwriting, but not really taking in the words yet, and then suddenly felt that Kakashi had shunshinned nearby ->

Obito had to return to Kamui immediately, but forgot to put the letter in place! It stayed in his hand, and then forever in Kamui; he never brought it back. Having read it for the first time, he felt anger and only anger and threw it away somewhere. The letter got lost among the gray blocks. He forgot about the thing altogether. But way later, when he was in his late 20's, or maybe even not long before the war, he found it again, and the words kept ringing in his head till the very end.

This old letter was… Rin's letter about Obito! The real Obito, the kid Obito, which the current Obito had killed in himself once.

It went something like this: "Dear Kakashi, I'm writing this letter to you because it's not easy to talk about these things in real life, but let me try to express my thoughts here. I know you can't stand Obito, but please, please, for the sake of our team, try to understand him, because he's… that and that… (describes his loneliness, and kindness, and potential, and aspirations, and dreams). Maybe if you just show him a flicker of warmth, he will open up, and you'll see for yourself how much it will benefit us as a team and in all other possible ways. I'm his friend and I know him well, and it's so worth it! Just please believe in Obito, just please try, and you'll see how much it will change things."

Obito was so irritated when he read it for the first time. He couldn't feel the message at all, they were just words of a ghost, of an unreal Rin, and that unreal Rin was babbling something about that miserable unreal Obito, the helpless one. Trying to reach Kakashi's heart. How futile.

Later, when he found the letter for the second time as an adult, he wasn't outraged anymore; he was too numb inside for that. But what he didn't like was that the words made him think. They were haunting him, and he hated that. And then, when the Juubi almost destroyed his consciousness, he made himself recall what had made him whole and hopeful once, and Rin's message sparked in his mind's eye again, more brightly, and it helped him take control of the Juubi. But only after the change of heart he finally started seeing the truth in those sentences and even hearing her voice saying them in his head; the words became alive and almost prophetic. And Kakashi's faith in Obito… It did finally touch his heart (as did Naruto's, of course), did finally reach him… and it DID change everything. * Now, Obito lives! And Kakashi somehow keeps the Sharingan eye or gets it back from him. He goes to Kamui after the war to "turn over his criminal assets" and finds that letter…

He brings it from Kamui and gives it back to Obito.

Obito, scratching the nape of his neck: "Ah… Sorry, I accidentally stole it from you ages ago." "I never noticed." "You didn't?" "I… memorized it so well that I never needed the original piece of paper anymore, the words were ingrained in my heart, is all…" "Why did you bring it back?" "I feel like you still need it. …Besides, thanks to it being in Kamui, it wasn't destroyed by Pein, unlike the contents of my whole apartment. When he attacked." "…Sorry." "Albeit losing things is nothing, in comparison with losing people." "Sorry." "I'm glad you're back..."