#funniest development imaginable

[the-deadlock-south]

is this a screenshot redraw or a meme redraw either way most of cass’ relationships can be summed up like this

[sannyo-appreciation-posts]

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

1 2 3 (can also be read as a standalone)

my awesome steve playlist ; Ao3

STEVE LOOKS AT HIS BIG EMPTY HOUSE AND THINKS FUCK IT

(ft. the beginnings of a beautiful friendship and shitting on the school dress code)

Steve has always been fascinated by the act of creating.

His father is a very strict and traditional man. Everything has a specific way it ought to be, and anything that deviates from this fixed set of beliefs is simply wrong. (No, don't go into the kitchen, Stephen. Why do you need so long to get ready, Stephen. This type of music isn't fit for a Harrington, Stephen.)

He finds it kind of ironic. According to the bible, Eve was created from Adam's rib. And yet, according to his father, it is only the woman that creates. It is the woman who creates homemade meals for the rest of the family. It is the woman who creates tales and stories to put the children to sleep. It is the woman who creates patterns and fabric and clothing out of loose textiles and yarn.

Steve isn't completely sure what the man is supposed to do. When his father is home, he mostly disappears in his study or watches TV. (Steve finds it kind of sad)

He supposes he should be grateful that his father is always so eager to leave. Maybe he would have convinced Steve of this trist world he seems to live in if he had had more time to whisper it into his ears. But as things are, Steve loves to create. It soothes something deep in his soul to watch his weird little trauma-bonded ragtag group of kids engorge themselves on a meal that he created. (And Hopper. Nobody appreciates his cooking more than Hopper.) It makes him feel in peace with himself to start his day by fertilizing and watering and occasionally repotting his plants. (The Golden Girls seem to be particularly effective in that regard). It makes him feel accomplished to see his babies thriving and growing, a visible proof of being needed. It makes him feel more comfortable in his own skin to be able to create a more genuine version of himself - with his face as his canvas - one he can somewhat recognize in the mirror.

He'd like to say that he managed to free himself of most prejudices his father somewhat attempted to breed into him by the time he is slinging ice cream at Scoops Ahoy! . (To say that his father tried his hardest when it came to anything regarding his family would be a gross overstatement.)

--

Steve had not been a good student.

First he threw meaningless party after meaningless party in an attempt to fill all the empty space his parents left behind.

Then he got together with Nancy, and he had never studied more. Which would've been great, if something about her learning style didn't just refuse to work with him. All the stupid facts he needed to know just didn't want to get into his head (he was trying, okay?! He tried to explain it to Nancy when she said that he was smart and just had to "apply himself more". But "this is just too boring" sounds like a weak excuse even to his own ears. And he really tries to be less lazy, everyone else seems to manage it just fine, but he just can't do it.

He leaned into it after a while. Pretended to be more dumb and oblivious and obtuse than he really is. Because then it wouldn't be his fault. It would be something outside of his control. Bad genes or just rotten luck.

It hurt a bit, how easily people believed him. And you know what they say, if you hear something often enough....)

And after that he was a bit too busy being terrified 24/7 and trying to deal with the aftermath of multiple concussions on his own. He was honestly surprised that he actually managed to graduate, half-expected to become another Eddie Munson.

That is all to say that you really don't have to be fucking Einstein to realize that skimpy sailor clothing that barely manages to cover your butt does not mesh well with ice cream that needs to be kept in negative temperatures at all times. But Scoops Ahoy! would need to actually care about its employees to change something about it, which - especially with communists and socialists and whatnot hiding in every corner wanting nothing more than to destroy America or something - was not very likely. To say the least.

--

One day Steve wakes up with a running nose and an itch in the back of his throat. It is not enough to call in sick, but it is enough for him to think fuck it and bundle up in a scarf and a cashmere jacket that actually belongs to his mother (it is ridiculously soft and it matches to the rest of the outfit so leave him alone, okay?!). As long as he is still wearing the stupid sailor's hat management can't complain.

Or that is what he thinks. Until his boss decides that today of all days is a great day to go to the mall, another jackass (that he is going to kill very slowly and painfully) loudly complains about the extra layers (THAT HE IS WEARING SO HE WON'T BECOME SICK AND THUS BE ABLE TO WORK MORE?!), and boss takes that as his cue to stomp into Scoops and loudly lecture him about "branding" and "marketability" and "wasted assets". Of course the universe decides that right now is not the absolutely perfect time to make a Demogorgon appear that releases everyone present from their misery. He barely has left the shop again when Robin is already laughing so hard she has to take her break earlier.

The next time he looks at the damned board there is another point under the "you suck" column. He argues that he should get one in the "you rule" category simply because someone looked at him in this horrible horrible uniform and thought that hiding all this was enough of a crime to literally complain to his boss. He must be a truly pitiful sight because she eventually relents.

--

Here is the thing about Robin. She is funny. She is snarky. She knew who he was in Highschool - hell, she was part of the group he used to terrorize for no reason - but she doesn't hold it against him. Sure, she will make fun of him and the "you suck" - game (which he insists should be renamed to the "you rule" - game) certainly wasn't his idea. But it doesn't feel angry or malicious. At least not anymore. Sure, her only way of communication seems to be bad jokes at his expense and she doesn't really notice when she occasionally crosses a line. But it still somehow feels like she is laughing with and not at him. (Maybe it helps that she makes self-deprecating jokes about herself as well.)

But the best part is how he doesn't disappoint her. You can't let someone down who has no expectations in you on the first place, though she manages it in a way that doesn't feel like a weight in his chest like it does with his parents.

He loves Nance (even though he thinks he is finally starting to fall out of love with her), but she never quite could hide her disappointment when weeks of studying together ended up in an average grade at best. And the little shitheads, god bless them. He knows they don't do it on purpose and that he is just being too sensitive, especially because he himself does nothing to convince them of the opposite, but it kind of stings when literal newborns who will probably get scholarships to ivy league in the future keep calling him stupid. It is, admittedly, pretty demeaning.

With Robin, there is none of that. Sure, she has better grades than him (not that that is particularly hard) and will probably be able to get out of this hellish place when she graduates, but for now they are both working at a dead-end customer-service and extenuating circumstances like those tend to bind people together. He would know. An angry customer can be scarily similar to a literal demogorgon.

--

The next day his nose is still running and his throat is still hurting and he seriously considers coughing into their sortiment as a rebellion of sorts more than once. Robin, of course, is having the time of her life.

"It's like the opposite of the school dress code", she jokes. "Don't you dare hide too much skin, young man, or you won't distract the potential customers!" He snorts at her exaggerated and yet eerily accurate imitation of their boss.

Then he has an idea. "Ooohhh, I know this face" Robin sinsongs rubbing her hands together. "This is your 'I'm going to do something stupid' face. You wear it concerningly often."

"Correction, Buckley. You are going to help me, and we are going to do something stupid. Together. It's not very patriotic to abandon your brother in arms in the trenches like that, you know."

She takes a sceptical look at their tiny shop. "Don't take it personally. But if there was a war. And our country was this Scoops Ahoy. I would rather join the dark side than help my brother-in-arms"

"You mean you would rather murder me than", he takes a significant look to the freezer hidden in the back, "chill with me here?!". She punches him (Robin is surprisingly strong for someone with such noodle arms), and sighs deeply in a way only underpaid customer-service-workers can relate to when a group of teenagers crowds the counter. Steve can't help his smug little smirk as they serve the group together and knows it is taking Buckley everything she has not to punt him in the face. She is totally going to be an idiot with him.

--

They need a second whiteboard, but Robin refuses to let the "you suck"-game go, so they pool their money together and buy the cheapest one they can find.

The first step is easy: Robin needs to find out all the dress code rules in Hawkins High and write them on their new board.

Then it is Steve's time to get to work.

--

Experiment #1: Fingertip Rule

"The length of skirts, skorts, and shorts must extend below the student's fingertips when the student's arms are extended at his/her sides."

"Soooo.....am I just going to have to find like....massive socks."

They stare at each other.

Steve raises one of his brows (he is proud of that one). Robin blows him a Raspberry. Steve bites his lower lip to stop himself from smiling. Robin is the first to break, this time. She bursts out laughing. He consoles himself with the thought that at least he won their little stare contest. Plus, with a big of luck and tigh-high socks, maybe this annoying not-quite-cold will finally go away.

--

The worst part of having completely cutt off contact with everyone in his grade is that he has nothing to do. Everyone he would be willing to spend time with is in fucking school so he has the whole fucking morning to do lots of big old nothings.

So maybe he had an ulterior motive when he suggested this little experiment. One that had nothing to do with a sore throat or a running nose. (He suspects that Robin is aware of that, too. But for once in her life she actually knows when to shut up, so whatever.)

That day he drives out of the parking lot and turns his beloved car in the opposite direction of his home. Sure, he could buy the yarn and the sewing supplies in Hawkins, and his father probably wasn't planning on going to that particular shop anytime soon. But Steve has nothing but time and it is always better to be safe rather than sorry. (Which is also why he always carries a bat full of nails in his trunk.)

It is only when he is already halfway there that he remembers that he is still wearing that stupid fucking uniform. Fuck. But it's okay. It's fine. He just can't let Robin find out that he forgot to take it off and had to actually interact with real people (they've decided pretty early on that customers don't count as those) while wearing it. The only worse thing would be to admit defeat and drive all the way back only to change clothes. Like, he doesn't really have standards or self-respect anymore, but that is a bit pathetic even for him.

And how good a decision that ended up being. As soon as he enters the girl at the counter gives him an appreciative once-over. He brushes away some of his hair almost on autopilot. He isn't sure what about sailor-themed polyester seems to work with so many people, but he sure isn't going to look a gift-horse in the mouth. Steve Harrington may not be very good in a great many things, but one thing he can do well is people. He is good at assessing other's intentions, knows how to be charming or how to subtly suggest an idea (manipulation is such a strong word) and project a certain image. He wasn't called the King for nothing, after all.

He stays way longer than he initially intended, but he is pretty sure the girl gave him a bit of a discount, plus she actually taught him the basics of knitting, so he is not going to complain. (At first she thought it was his way to get closer to her, but about five minutes in she realized he was way too intense about it for it to be solely that). So maybe he actually will be telling Robin of his little mishap so she has no choice but to give him another point in the "you rule" column.

The next day, for the first time in what feels like an eternity (he and time have always had a complicated relationship), he does not start his day sitting his butt in front of the TV boring himself to death until it is time to go to work.

Well, that is a lie. He does sit on his sofa the whole time. And he does have the TV on for some background noise. But instead of flipping through channels until he finds something he can at least pretend to be somewhat interested in, he takes everything he bought yesterday afternoon and starts knitting.

Or well, to say that he immediately started knitting would perhaps also not be too accurate. First he stares at the newly-bought yarn for who knows how long trying to decide on a color. His petty petty heart is begging for him to use the orange that clashes horribly with the navy blue of the uniform, but at the same time he should probably not immediately start with the worst possible combination, no matter how much he may want to. Instead, after a frankly embarrassing amount of contemplation, he decides to start with the red. It fits with the accents, and the blue doesn't become too overpowering. Then he begins. For real this time.

Or well. He tries. Turns out knitting is much more complicated when you don't have a cute girl next to you to correct you when you mess up. By the time he has to go to work, he has achieved a whole lot of nothing. (He had been pretty proud of his little square until he noticed that something was wrong and it was lopsided and weird and he couldn't exactly pinpoint it but it was bothering him so he undid all his progress and then had to run to his car when he realized he was already late for work.)

When he arrives he is out of breath and his hair more disheveled than he would normally allow, but he is also only ten minutes late and wasn't stopped by the police for speeding so he sees it as a win. He starts questioning his assertion when his lovely co-worker raises both her eyebrows, quirking her lips (She can't raise just one, which is half the reason why he does it). He follows her gaze.

"Hey, you can't expect me to finish two tigh-high socks in less than a day."

"I'm not looking at you inexistent socks, dingus"

"Interesting fashion choices, your majesty. Got your panties in a twist?"

Steve looks at Eddie Munson who seems to have appeared out of nowhere. Steve looks down. Steve sees that in his hurry he accidentally put his shorts on the wrong way around. Steve lets out a deep deep sigh.

--

The nice girl (he swears it was something starting with 'H'. Heather? Hannah?) said that she needs about three days for a pair of socks. Considering that, Steve doesn't think his one week is too shabby.

Of course, stupid innocent soul that he was, he once again managed to destroy all his work by letting it shrink in the wash. She (Helena? Hayley?) really hadn't been exaggerating when she said that knitting is at least as much unmaking as actually creating.

--

Six days later he arrives at Scoops on time for the first time in a week. (It had become personal, okay?! Not his fault time decided to fuck with him specifically for some ungodly reason)

He can see the exact moment Robin sees the high socks that go exactly as high as his fingertips reach - her mouth actually falls open. Her eyes widen further into an honestly comedic degree when he takes out the pair that had shrunken while washing.

"Buckley up", he says, finding himself very funny. "Brothers in arms, remember?"

Steve isn't sure if he should consider himself lucky or despair when their beloved boss actually graces them with his presence. Sure, all this had originally started as a way to see how much clothing is too much clothing according to the higher-ups. But his socks took a lot of work and it is very refreshing (ha!) not to have to freeze his legs off for multiple hours.

He takes a look at their whole fit and turns to Steve. "Harrington, didn't we already have this conversation less than a month ago?"

"While, yes, it may seem like that", Robin interrupts, manager always having had a noticeable preference towards her for some reason, "this actually doesn't conceal any of the important bits." Both visibly wince at that last part. She points towards the sliver of skin between where his shorts end and his socks begin. "According to school dress code, this is plenty distracting. You wouldn't disagree with the school principal who is responsible for the education of literally the entire town, right sir?"

At seeing the skepsis in his gaze Steve quickly intervenes. "Plus, I mean, the customers can barely see it anyway. You know, because we are standing behind the counter. So it doesn't make that big of a difference. And I'm still a bit sick". He coughs for good measure.

The boss looks at both of them with raised brows (Steve admittedly feels a sense of superiority at knowing his boss also can't raise only one like he can) and a long-suffering look as if he were the one who can look forward to two more hours of customer service. For a second Steve is absolutely sure that because of this idiotic little joke he and Robin are going to be fired on the spot. Instead he lets out a long deep sigh and nods in defeat before leaving them alone.

Robin immediately goes for the high-five. "Oh my god this was so great. Did you see his face?! Like-" , she makes a face that looks nothing like his had "Oh my god. I can't wait for the second experiment. This is going to be so much fun!"

This time it is Steve's turn to look at her incredulously. Maybe Robin is part of the group of degenerate people his father always warned him about.

--

Experiment #2: Hosiery Rule

"tights, leggings, or other types of hosiery must be accompanied by a fingertip length or longer top or dress."

The second their boss's eyes had narrowed at the sight of his socks, Steve had decided that he had enough. He actually needed this job - not in the least because he would probably die from boredom, and who would be there to protect the kids then?

But he hadn't counted on Robin's delight at sucking it up to the school dress code (even if nobody AT school knows of their nefarious deeds) and by the time the shift was over she had somehow convinced him to wear tight leggings instead of the demanded shorts. "The more see-through the better", were her exact words. At least he managed to stop her from going straight to the shoulder rule - he wasn't sure he was ready to destroy one of the uniforms he'd had to pay out of own pocket for this little game of theirs.

So as soon as Steve gets home he goes to the first guest room (he isn't sure what fight had had her barging into the bathroom with tears in her eyes years ago, but his parents hadn't slept in the same bed since. The only reason it is still called the "guest room" and not "his mother's room" is because married couples don't do that. Apparently. If that is what a marriage looks like, Steve would rather stay single forever. And why had he come here again? Oh, yeah. Leggings.

He approaches her drawers and prays that she has left behind at least one pair of yoga pants. He refuses to actually spend money because of this bullshit. (Okay, maybe that isn't strictly true. Because even worse than wasting money on a stupid pair he will only wear once and could possibly get him fired is the thought of Robin being mad or disappointed at him.)

Not for the first time he thinks that his mother must have had a wild past she never talks about. If he had to describe the woman in one word it would be classy. Her posture is always as straight as a flight attendant's or a model's. Her wardrobe consists of muted whites and creams. Maybe the occasional black if she is feeling especially bold. Her jewelry is always small but tasteful ("if it's too big, it's tacky. It makes you look desperate to prove something or to flaunt your wealth"). Her makeup, just like everything else, is elegant and purposeful. Classy.

But then El rummaged through her makeup drawers and somehow found a bold black eyeshadow palette with a cracked mirror (his mother is always very careful with her belongings). Or her son will to through her clothes in an attempt to find a pair of see-through skin-tight leggings that fit him and the only pair he can find is a truly abhorrent screaming orange.

He remembers how he considered making the socks orange to clash with the uniform and just barely stops himself from hitting his head against the wall. Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny. Good one universe or god or whoever the fuck.

--

The next day he goes to work wearing the fucking horrible leggings. Robin does not look appreciatively enough of his sacrifice, which is probably because he knew he would never be able to step out of his car if he didn't cover it with some black jeans, at least on his way over to Scoops.

She understands his debacle when he goes to the back to take off his normal and socially acceptable pants and comes out wearing that thing he still can't believe he actually found in his mother's closet. Easy for her to laugh, considering her nice and non-offensive navy blue pair. She went through with her own advice and one can clearly see where her underwear begins. Steve is pretty sure that it is in no way appropriate to make fun of that. But Robin makes jokes about how he is never going to amount to anything and he is STILL wearing the worst clothes he has ever laid his eyes on for her, so he thinks he has earned the right. As expected, she punches him in the arm and screams at him for looking. (Never mind that he wasn't, it is just pretty impossible to ignore, okay?!) She wants to put on the extra shorts she started storing here after she accidentally let a huge ice cream cone with fudge and sprinkles fall on her and had to finish the rest of her shift with sticky clothes - yes, Steve did obviously make inappropriate jokes about that, although not nearly as many as he would today. He reminds her that the entire reason they are doing this is to be inappropriate, and that if she can cover her old grandma undergarments (Hey, I want to see you stand around for over an hour wearing fucking lingerie, asshole) he can take off the orange eyesore he put on JUST FOR HER. A bit of pleading (he is not going to be the only embarrassed one today if it kills him) and they are both standing uncomfortably and trying to laugh it off when the tenth customer takes a judgemental look at their legs (if not an outright comment, thank you Tommy and Eddie.)

Steve doesn't try flirting with every cute girl that comes around and can confidently say that he has never felt less sexy in his life (and that is saying something, considering he has had a concerning amount of injuries and near-death experiences over the last two years). Robin decides to put the "You suck"- game on hold for one day because Steve argues that they should add a talley everytime she gets judged as well, and she can't find any convincing counter-arguments.

Things did not get much better when the boss came around. Steve is pretty sure Robin's whole underwear situation is the only reason they weren't fired on the spot. She looks approprietly grossed-out when he voices this thought.

If there is one positive thing about this whole experience, is that he has never felt so close to his coworker as today. Trauma truly is a hell of a bonding experience.

--

Experiment #3 Pyjamas:

"Hawkins High includes pajamas in the category of provocative clothing"

"We are not doing this."

"Yeah, no"

...

"Do you like, sleep in lingerie or something? like, why would pajamas-?!"

--

Experiment #4: Shoulder Rule

"tops that have less than two fingers width of coverage on the shoulders are prohibited for any student, and shirts that are cut like A-style under shirts or beach wear can't be worn by boys."

Steve's cold is finally completely gone, but this whole experiment has stopped being about that weeks ago (if it ever truly was.)

After the humiliating incident that had been the day before, Steve and Robin were in complete agreement that there was absolutely no way they were going to stop their little game now and let the fucking mess that had been yesterday be in vain.

And so they have unanimously decided to cross the one line Steve had secretly sworn to leave untouched: mutilate their uniforms.

Now, they are both aware that that is their most radical move yet. And although some non-believers will vehemently deny it, Steve and Robin (well, mostly Steve to be honest) are aware that purposely provoking other people will sooner or later bite you in the ass (especially if those people are above you in the hierarchy). And so, for the next week, both wear their regulated uniforms. Their poor boss looks so relieved Steve almost confesses that this is only the calm before the storm.

"Why shoulders, though?"

They have decided that they can continue with their plan. Or, well, Steve had been so distracted with his new plant (he bought a bonsai that he named after Robin instead of the golden girls so he could have the satisfaction of cutting her branches when she'd been particularly annoying at work). And his parents had randomly come back for like a week and his mom had left a lot of new makeup releases behind, which of course meant that he had to experiment. Plus summer vacation started, and his unofficial and unpaid job as a chaffeur for a bunch of preschoolers with it. These same preschoolers also started bothering him at work more often, which meant: 1. Robin now had a lot more fuel to make his life hell, and 2. He'd been very lucky the kids hadn't been to the mall on leggings day.

Which means that Steve hadn't even started the modifications yet. But Robin only remembered to bring an extra shirt their next shift together, so like, they are both at fault here.

"Like, what about that particular arm region makes the teachers so horny?"

"Oh my god Steve ew! The code isn't- well, now that i think of mister Bernd, yeah. Wouldn't surprise me."

"I know. And I am so glad to be out of that place. So, a month sound good?"

"Hey. If you can finish it in half that time I will deal with the hard costumers AND willingly clean the really gross and sticky shit."

"I don't..."

"And you get another "you rule"-point. If I do get fired I want to have a bit of the vacations left, man."

"Okay alright, I'll do my best"

--

"STEVE STEVE STEVE STEVE STEVE ST-"

"What the fuck you fucking menace what's wrong?!"

"WHAT DID HE SAY??"

Steve sighs. He is relieved to see Max spending so much time outside of the trailer but Jesus H. Christ. He carefully lets the needles that were previously residing more or less safely between his teeth fall on the table, makes absolutely sure that they are indeed on the table in front of him (cursed things must be from the upside down with how they keeps disappearing on him) and grabs for the walkie-talkie again.

"Lukas. Max. I said: What the fuck is wrong with you two? Care to answer in a normal volume, shitheads?"

"Where are you?"

"At home?? Where else would I be?!"

"Well, that is convenient!"

"What do you-"

"I don't know? You never have time anymore! I don't know what the fuck you keep doing all day?!"

"Language Max!"

There is a knock on the door. Convenient indeed. Steve sighs.

--

He manages to do it in one and a half weeks (he has found that knitting is very calming when the night is too dark and the memories feel too real)

At first he had wanted to try huge sleeves that swish when he moves his arm, but a) that would take even more time and b) it would fall into the ice cream and make a mess so he opted to make the already existing pattern in his handbook for beginners. Except with a hole where the shoulder is. And the blue also doesn't quite match the uniform. And Robin's arms a bit too skinny. So like, maybe it isn't perfect, but that isn't the point anyways. Nobody is perfect and shit.

The first people he knows who see him like this are Nancy and Jonathan. (They seem to be on a date. He is relieved when the realization doesn't hurt nearly as much as it once would have.) After the five longest minutes he has ever experienced, he is almost relieved when he sees their boss coming towards them. The relief quickly turns into terror when he sees the look on his face.

Robin follows his gaze. "Fuck." "Fuck indeed."

"Wait, you said that all this started because of the dress code bullshit, right?"

"Well, actually, it all started because some asshole out there is incredibly attracted to me-" Steve does not have time to finish his correct statement before the boss gets there.

"Buckley. Harrington. Why are you wearing-"

"Wow, Jonathan! Don't you think that Steve and Robin look absolutely dashing?"

"I- sure. They look... great. I definitely would not have come to Scoops Ahoy on this fine day if I hadn't seen their attractive....shoulders."

"Right? Where did you get those, Steve? I want to buy some, too!"

He has no time to see if their boss buys this extremely fake display before his heart stops in terror as he sees his kids stomping towards him. He tries to gesture for them to go away without his boss noticing. They purposefully misinterpret his flailing and walk faster.

"Hey Steve, what are you wearing?!"

"Yeah it looks so great doesn't it?", which prompts Mike to look at his sister as if she just murdered his puppy in front of him.

"Didn't these fresh new outfits make you want to eat ice cream more than ever before?" , Robin tries to salvage this complete dumpster fire.

Thankfully Jonathan and Will seem to have working sibling telepathy because the latter slowly nods. "Yes. I am never in more mood for ice cream than when my eyes are confronted with...long sleeves and...bony shoulders."

--

Somehow they actually manage to convince him. He isn't sure whether he really believed them (unlikely), he just got too tired of their shit (relatable) or just didn't want to do the extra work of finding someone else (which, understandable, but c'mon dude). Either way, what matters is that Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley remain with a steady (if meager) salary. Plus they had to swear to never pull such a stunt again, which Steve is honestly kind of relieved by.

Unfortunately this victory came at a cost: now the party knows he can knit.

"Hey grandma Steve! My sock has a hole. Can you fix it?"

"Hey Steve! Remember that apron we gave you when we found out you can actually cook? Wouldn't it be fair for you to knit costum shirts for us in return?"

"Hey Harrington. We've got this stray that sometimes wanders near our house and since you can apparently knit-"

--

When the Russians threatens to pull out his fingernails, his first thought is that he won't ever be able to finish the "Anti-Russia Squad" socks he was making for himself, Robin and Dustin.

--

When they are drugged out of their minds, Steve tells Robin he named a plant after her.

"Her name is Fuck You Motherfucking Robin Buckley Jesus H. Christ I Can't Stand You. Get it? Because then I don't actually insult you-

"You're just saying the name of the plant so technically you aren't cursing at me-"

"but at the same time i get it out of my chest!"

"oh my god i need a house plant so i can curse YOU without insulting you"

"rude but fair"

"except that i am so terrible at taking care of plants somehow they always...they always die"

(they are still crying half an hour later)

--

Steve's graduation present is a soulmates-sweater. One huge two people sweater. They wear it almost every day for like a month. (People keep assuming that they are dating which is really annoying because NO? THEY ARE BOTH VERY MUCH AVAILABLE?? Platonic with capital P? Why is that so hard to understand?)

[grimmjowjaegerjaquez]

if i was someone with any kind of consistency i couldve been known for ach'm. my stupid sexy frog man. (who is also a cyborg)

[alligaytorswamp]

you would think that me ending a friendship with someone i knew for ~10 years would leave me devastated but tbh all i feel is disappointment and cringe for them 😶

[journey-to-the-attic]

*comes crashing through your window*

Hi.

I haven't been here for 2 months.

YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

*AGRESSIVELY WORD DUMPS ALL MY THOUGHTS ABOUT IK* (Mostly my twisted wonderland x IK au i thought of)

~~~~~~

IK, first waking up at the Entrance Ceremony : Diavolo, are you trying a new way of surprise summoning me to Devildom because I don't coffins are the best idea,,,, wait a minute you're not Diavolo.

Crowley : No??????

IK : *looks around the Mirror Room*

IK : *eyes land on the housewardens*

IK, dead eyes : Am I going to have to solve the problems and traumas of those boys right there because absolutely none of them look like they coped well with their traumas. The white haired boy looks alright tho.

Houswardens : ....

IK : Don't worry about it, I'm experienced with this. As much as I'd love to stay here with all the funky coffins, I have to meet up with Lucifer and Satan in like two days. The last time I was late they thought I got lost and ran around the block for like 20 minutes straight.

Crowley : Satan???? LUCIFER???? I'm sorry Miss but what in the world are you taking about???? This is Night Raven College, a school for mages in training. And you Young Miss, have been called by the Dark Mirror to take part as a student.

IK, blank faced : *remembering Solomon saying that there was a hidden school for training mages and sorcerers*

IK : *seeing how the housewardens looked absolutely traumatized and mentally unwell*

IK :

~~~~~~

(Here's the wiki for a more clear explanation : Link )

So,,, Twisted Wonderland takes place in a school dedicated to train mages and sorcerers, called Night Raven College. The entire school is split up into seven dormitories, each one based of a Disney villian. For example, Heartslaybul is based of the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland, Savanaclaw is based of Scar from the Lion King, so on and so forth. Each dorm has their own leaders, called either Housewardens or Dorm Leaders. Twst has both an English and a Japanese translation, the former for the english, and the latter for the japanese.

And as you can guess,, each dorm leader has ✨TRAUMA✨,, (except for Kalim, the white haired boy) so as the story progresses, we learn about their traumas,,,, and we basically beat love into their brains,,, affectionately of course.

Considering that magic is also in Obey me,, I made NRC a secret institution,, just for mages and sorcerers. I don't know how to fit in Devildom and the brothers,, so we just pretend the lore isnt there.

As for how IK got into NRC without any magic? Well, hanging around the strongest demons in existence, the demon prince and his butler, two celestial angels and the most powerful sorcerer in the world, you're gonna get quite a bit or residual magic, especially having pacts with said powerful demons.

But IK has nothing to fear, because she has experience with seven emotionally constipated demon brothers who never spoke about anything for centuries on end. Also a baseball bat because of all the BS that happened in her transfer year at RAD. She has the hot chocolate and blankets ready, now all she needs is a notepad and paper because now shes playing the therapist role once again!

~~~~~~

All right thats all from my brain,,,, gn

i don't know enough about crowley to know if it'd be in-character, but i imagine that once ik gives him a summary of How Much drama and plot stuff she accidentally summons, he gives her the baseball bat like "magic bullshit happens to you too much for a magic item to be useful, take this instead"

it'd be funny if this happens some time after the exchange program, so when the demons finally find out what happened they're like "wtf that's OUR thing"

[demigods-posts]

percy is an incredibly skilled sword fighter. and it's safe to say that he doesn't just train with riptide. because only training with his god-given weapon would be incredibly irresponsible (and annabeth would never let him develop that crutch). so i have to assume he proficient enough to hold his own with any elongated tool he can get his hands on. and it has to come in handy in the funniest way. like imagine percy and annabeth playing tag. and he just grabs the nearest paper towel roll and 🤺🤺 her hands to she can't lay a finger on him.

[strlingsav]

CAN YOU WRITE SOMETHING WITH SOAP FOR ME?

Let's imagine that y/n and Soap have been friends for some years (let's imagine high school) and they have had this sexual tension since then.

If y/n know about him being in the SAS? Your choice, I don't even know if it's possible to tell others. But she knows he's a soldier.

So one night, after task force 141 was sent home for whatever reason, they all meet up and y/n goes too with Soap. All the squad notice this tension between the two of them and they tease them. Let's resume it ahahahah they are a bit tipsy and they end up making up while soap is taking her home...and then she invites him over and, you know

I sure can 😇

Longing

– Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x F!Reader

— Your feelings for your friend develop into something more.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

You ran a pair of flat palms over the hem of your blouse, smoothing any wrinkles or folds, inspecting yourself in the mirror. Johnny's voice, calling for your attention, pulled you away from your reflection.

"Sorry," You answered. "You're sure it's okay I come?" You asked, your phone tucked between your ear and shoulder.

Johnny had returned after more than a few months overseas, and so had his teammates. As if it weren't nerve-racking enough to finally see him again, he was pulling you into a last-minute meeting with a group of soldiers.

Your nerves were jumpy, like live-wires running through your limbs, and although you tried to pass it off as general nervousness, you knew it was seeing Johnny again that was giving you palpitations.

You'd been friends for a long time, seen every side of him you could possibly love or hate, and it wasn't until the last few years that you'd finally come around to acknowledging your feelings for him.

It was a silent longing, sitting on your chest anytime you saw him, talked to him, even when he wasn't around. Your judgement told you he saw you as a friend, nothing more, which made the ever-growing feelings that much harder to overcome.

It was undeniably tense, always had been, especially the few times when you'd bid him goodbye as he left for his work trips. The urge to kiss him, finally taste him and savour the dreamt-of feeling of his lips on yours, had been gnawing at you. There was a build-up of heavy temptation, feelings you ached to get rid of before you embarrassed yourself.

You weren't entirely sure how solid your intuition was- whether it was just that you'd known each other so long, or genuine attraction. Regardless, your feelings had fallen to the back-burner when Johnny left over seas the first time all those years ago, and you'd yet to confront them since.

A part of you wanted to believe it was better that way; his deployments were a stark contrast to the happily-ever-after you'd talked about since you were younger. But the larger, less logical, part of you that knew Johnny well would suffer through it just to be with him.

"Aye," Johnny's voice came through the speaker. "Just a few lads gettin' together for a few drinks. Nothin' serious." There was a pause, long enough to notice but short enough to leave you wondering. "And I've missed you."

Your eyes shut, savouring the way his words sounded. He was talking to you- he missed you.

You nodded to yourself, exhaling. It was shaky, full of concern and worry, and Johnny could feel it. He wanted nothing more than to tuck you under his arm, squeeze in beside you on the couch and spend the night with you- only you- but he wasn't entirely sure if you'd be on board.

He liked the way you looked at him, like he was the funniest man on earth, and possibly the most handsome, but he feared he'd put meaning where there was none. He didn't want to read into your touches and soft parting kisses on his cheek, but it was becoming increasingly difficult not to. Especially with just how badly he craved you- nearly always starving for just an ounce more than you'd give.

"Alright. You're there already?"

He could hear you moving, rustling about your apartment as you gathered your keys and wallet. He imagined the same flustered expression he'd seen so many times before, a small grin overtaking his face.

"Aye," He said again, his tone a bit more sharp than before. "Stop worryin' yourself. There's no rush."

"I'm trying," You grumbled, shutting the door behind you swiftly as you headed down to the street.

He grumbled your name softly, a light chuckle moving away from the receiver. "I'll see you soon."

He didn't give you another moment to question him, quickly hanging up. At the same time, you'd hailed a cab and urged yourself to get in without allowing for anymore anxious deliberation.

You stepped inside the bar not long after, your head on a swivel as you desperately searched for the pitch-black hair and ocean eyes that you knew would inevitably find you.

When he laid eyes on you, for the first time in months, he breathed in deeply. His chest was tight with anxiety, too, noticeable by his robotic movements and short sentences. His squad took notice, but they'd already known for a long time that Johnny had feelings for you. It was obvious, he didn't need to say it.

"Reckon that's her that just walked in?" Ghost spoke up, his eyes landing on Johnny who'd stiffened in his seat.

Johnny paid no mind to him, standing from his seat to wave you over.

Gaz chimed in from the corner of the booth, "How'd you tell?"

"Practically droolin' all over the bloody table."

Johnny ignored his ribbing, watching you step carefully toward him, avoiding the other bodies in the room that were reckless and drunk. The smile on your face had loosened his muscles, and when he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, he relaxed into you.

"Good t'see you again," Johnny mumbled against your hair.

"You too," You smiled softly into his chest. "Glad you're in one piece."

Johnny smiled, his hand finding the small of your back as he turned to introduce you to his coworkers. You offered a polite smile, acknowledging the two other men with a soft 'hello' before taking a seat next to Johnny.

He'd taken the liberty of ordering your favourite drink, sitting on the coaster, straw sticking out from the glass. You held back a gracious smile, your eyes meeting his as a show of appreciation when you took a sip.

The conversation between them was entertaining, albeit not entirely understandable given the confidentiality of their work, though the personal anecdotes and light pestering eased your fear of judgement.

Johnny hadn't changed at all- still the outgoing, funny man he left as those months ago, and it relieved you. It was easy to meld into their world, especially once the first impressions were over with.

Gaz turned his attention to you as Johnny rested an arm around your shoulders, his brows lifting with an entertained smirk.

"Johnny's told us quite a bit about you," He interjected. "Feel like I already know you." Gaz's eyes drifted to a Johnny's, who'd given him an icy glare.

"Oh no," You turned your head to meet Johnny's eyes. "What's he told you?"

"Little bit of everything, really."

"Can't get him to the shut the fuck up," Ghost added.

"Piss off," Johnny scoffed.

"Always on about seein' you again," Ghost interjected, ignoring Johnny's command.

Johnny was more than a drink or two away from drunk, but certainly not sober. His cheeks heated up at the mention of how frequently he spoke about you, and though you wanted to believe it was motivated by romantic feelings, you settled for the disappointing notion that it was just the idle conversation he made when he wasn't on duty.

"He is a chatterbox when he's drunk," You nodded, turning your gaze back to Ghost.

"Not just when he's drunk."

You took a sip of your drink, ending the conversation, trying desperately not to fall into the rabbit hole of what-ifs and maybes. You'd been doing it for years now, and it was exhausting. You'd undoubtedly tried to stop, for your own sanity, but it never worked.

"That's true," Your lips formed a tight line, unsure where to take the conversation before it became a source of intrigue for you.

"Enough gosspin', you hens," Johnny scolded, finishing his drink and setting it down with a loud gulp.

You hid a smile, finishing yours and sighing quietly. You checked the time- nearly last call.

"I should head out," You spoke up, clearing your throat as you eyed Johnny.

"Stay for another round," Johnny suggested, his brows furrowing.

You shook your head, "I'm tired, and I'm sure you'd like some time with your friends," You reasoned.

"We've had enough of him," Ghost chimed in. "Take him with you."

You offered a grin, Johnny's eyes narrowing at Ghost before returning to you. He stepped out of the booth, watching you stand before him.

"Let me at least get you home. We can catch up."

"You're sure?"

"Seen enough of these bastards for a lifetime," He teased.

After some polite goodbyes, you walked in stride with Johnny until he opened a cab door for you and slid in beside you.

"Have you talked to your mom?" You asked, your voice louder than intended among the silence of the cab.

"Spoke on the phone a few days ago. She's been pesterin' me to go see her already."

"She misses you," You argued. "She's entitled to her pestering."

"Don't see a lot of pesterin' from you," He quirked up a brow, shifting against the leather seat. "You didn't miss me?"

You rolled your eyes playfully- "I did."

"Hard to believe it."

"Why's that?" Your tone was laced with disbelief, and your eyes glanced to the driver, attempting to lower your voice.

He scoffed, "You've been shyin' away."

"I wasn't shying away," You pursed your lips. "I was nervous."

He knew better than to assume it was because of him- but as your eyes flickered between his, he thought he'd caught a glimpse of longing behind your stone-faced expression. It stoked the fire in his gut that had been burning profusely the entire night.

He shook his head. "You shouldnae pay any mind to Ghost or Gaz."

"They had a lot to say about you," You lifted your head again to find his eyes.

He nodded, "Always takin' the piss."

You tried not to appear disappointed at Johnny's dismissal of their adamance that he'd talked a lot about you. Whether it was true or not, you didn't think you'd ever really know. The lump in your throat was familiar- choking down the feeling of rejection.

The rest of the ride was quiet, with more tension growing between you. Your thigh rubbed against his, locking eyes every few seconds and offering awkward smiles. The air was thick, every moment passing was pure torture as he pressed against you, warmth radiating from his body.

The walk to your apartment door was no different. Unintelligible silence that was brewing a new kind of conversation. You stood outside your door, your eyes meeting for the umpteenth time that night, and Johnny inhaled deeply.

The liquor he'd indulged, combined with seeing you again after months away in less-than desirable conditions made him a bit more susceptible to risky choices. His teeth were nearly chattering as he deliberated whether or not to tell you just how much he did miss you, and wanted you.

He didn't want to lose your friendship- or you in general. If he had to be the one you relied on solely for platonic support, he'd accept it, but he couldn't continue through the unknown without speaking his mind before he lost it.

Watching you, even just as you fiddled with the keys in your hands, made him warm. You made him want to fall to his knees.

He cleared his throat, his hands finding the depths of his pockets as he caught your attention.

"They're not exaggerating," He said. When your brows furrowed, silence following, he continued. "I talk about you a lot. Miss you, a lot."

"I miss you too," You offered, in the most platonic tone you could muster.

He breathed in again, nearly frustrated.

"I cannae get you off my mind," He met your gaze, his eyes vulnerable as he began to unveil the simmering feelings under his skin. "I talk about you 'cause I think about you- all the goddamn time."

Your heart was rushing blood to your ears, utter shock settling in as he finished his last sentence. You were frowning- confused and yet excited at the same time. It was hardly believable that Johnny- the man you'd convinced yourself was just a friend- felt the way he did. The same way you did.

He watched your expression unfold, confusion at first, then your eyes softened, your parted lips closing together.

"You think about me?" You asked, your brows twitching. "What do you think about?"

He nearly laughed. Partially due to the nerves heating his body to an uncomfortable level, and because it was never obvious, to you. He'd been burning to get rid of the weight on his chest, the secret he'd kept for years, the charade he put on when he was with you.

He unintentionally moved in closer, a step in your personal space which forced your back against the door. He stood taller, staring down at you with eyes full of sincerity.

"Everything," He said. He was a bit apprehensive as his hand slid around your waist. "How you smell. Your smile." You were nearly chest to chest, your clueless expression egging him on. "Wonderin' how you taste. What you feel like."

Your breathing increased, rushed breaths of adrenaline fanning over his chest. He had inhaled a deep breath at the mention of feeling you- under him, on top of him, truthfully he didn't care.

"You think of me that way?" You asked.

"Christ," He shook his head, a grin forming. "Man bears his soul to you and you're still askin' questions."

He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours without wasting another moment.

Your body seemed to freeze for a beat, taking a moment to catch up with your mind as you realized he'd kissed you. It was soft and gentle, apprehensive in nature like everything else about that night.

The hand on your waist tightened its grip, pulling you closer when you finally responded to his kiss. Your own hands lifted to his shoulders, wrapping around lazily as he used his other to trap you between himself and the door.

It started light, a bit uncoordinated, testing the waters before they changed to raging waves that sloshed around in your stomach. He tasted like whiskey- smokey and acrid, with alcohol on his tastebuds. He was warm, his hands grabbing whatever part of you they could reasonably hold, desperately pulling you in closer and tighter.

He pulled back shortly after, finding your eyes. "Any other questions?" He teased, a smug grin on his lips.

"Do you wanna come in?" You asked, tucking your lip between your teeth.

He chuckled softly, nodding as you unlocked the door and swung it open. He pushed it closed behind him, yanking his jacket off and letting it fall to the floor as he grabbed your waist.

He pulled you into him again, swiftly lifting you to his hips. You wrapped your legs around him, reattaching your lips to his as he trudged down the hallway to your room, dropping you on your back.

He'd crawled over you, still latched onto him, sliding your tongue against his as he let some of his weight fall onto you. You exhaled harshly against his face, your hands reaching his jaw, pulling him as close as he could get.

His target changed, moving from the plush skin of your lips to the hot flesh of your neck, he left longing kisses to your collarbone.

"You've no idea how long I've been waitin' to kiss you," He muttered against your neck, warm breath fanning your cheek and ear.

Shivers lit up the nerves in your spine, your hands clinging to his shoulders.

"Is that all you've been waiting for?" You whispered against his cheek.

You could feel the smile form over his lips, "Nae."

He lifted his shirt over his head, revealing the physique he'd worked hard to keep from PT into his active service. It made your teeth clench together, taking in the sight of him, following the dark hair from his pectorals to his lower abdomen.

"I have lots o' things I've been waitin' to do to you."

His arms slithered around your thighs, tugging you into his body; you let out a quiet yelp at the sudden movement. His fingers undid the closures of your jeans, sliding them down your legs with ease, discarding them in the dim light of your room.

Your breathing hadn't settled, your head cocking to the side as you watched him crouch between your thighs, licking his lips. You hummed with anticipation.

His calloused palm ran up your thigh, over your stomach to palm your breast. Your chest heaved with excitement and anxiety.

"Take it off," He ordered, glancing up at you.

You met his eyes, snapping back to reality when you realized he was referring to your shirt. Quickly, you tugged it over your head, unclasping your bra before settling on your back.

Your hand inadvertently found the crown of his head, soft fingers running through his hair. He moaned softly, almost a purr as he leaned into your touch. His eyes fell to the lacy fabric of your panties and he sighed.

"Steamin' Jesus- you drive me mad," He groaned, his fingers squeezing around your thighs. "Lie back, doll."

You leaned back, watching with anticipation as he craned his neck, his breath fanning your lower half. His apprehensive tongue found your clit within seconds, causing you to jolt in his grasp. You felt him smile against you, though he didn't allow you time to recuperate as he flicked his tongue against your clit again.

You gasped quietly, tugging gently at his hair, your head falling back as he acclimated to your body and it's reactions.

Every squirming movement, sudden jerk- he held you in place, a strong grip forcing your thighs apart while he devoured you. You hadn't expected the ambition from Johnny, and were pleasantly surprised when he kept you spread open before him, his nose bumping against your pubic bone, his tongue gliding over your clit, his lips surrounding the sensitive flesh of your pussy.

"Johnny," You whispered, broken and whimpering, a show of gratitude.

He mumbled against you, lost in the sweet revelations that were your moans and gasps, your desperate voice begging for him. It was nearly overwhelming, realizing that it was your body twisting in his hands, your sticky skin sliding against his, breathless calls of his name when his tongue made contact with a particularly sensitive spot.

Your fingers pulled at his short hair, urging him to keep going, eyes squeezing shut as you enveloped yourself fully in the moment. It was nearly impossible to keep quiet, sure to anger the neighbours you shared walls with, but keeping silent was the furthest thing from your mind among the warming pleasure descending over you.

Your incoherent moans, echoing off the walls of your bedroom, became more frequent. Your head turning side to side, glancing down at his white knuckles and icy gaze- you fell apart with his head buried between your thighs, his tongue savouring every ounce of slick liquid that dripped from you, and as your pussy pulsated against him, he groaned.

You laid still, regaining your composure, sucking in a deep breath as he surfaced from between your thighs.

"Good?" He asked- though the grin on his face alluded to the fact that he knew the answer already- you'd soaked his face, his lips shimmering with your arousal, red and puffy.

"Good," You confirmed. "Really good."

His eyes blinked lazily, the same cocky grin on his face until you reached for his jeans. Emboldened with adrenaline and blissful excitement, you undid his zipper.

He was Johnny- your friend, Johnny- that you'd known for so long it was almost fate that you'd end up together. But your eyes met in the yellowed glow of the beside lamp, and he wasn't your friend, anymore. The feelings you'd shoved down, pushed far out of reach, had come bubbling to the surface once more.

Your stomach still fluttered with post-orgasm energy, though your mind was focused solely on taking everything he'd offer. His face dropped as your hand sneaked under the constraints of his jeans, dipping into his boxers.

Your hand reached his cock, pleasantly surprised by the feeling of hard flesh, soft and warm. He grunted quietly when your hand ran up and down his cock, exhaling sharply when your eyes met.

"Fuck me," He mumbled.

He leaned forward on his knees, connecting your lips again until his moans forced all the air out of him and he surfaced for a deep breath. His forehead knocked against yours, your lip tucked under your teeth as you watched him squirm in your grasp. His gaze had moved as he watched your hand squeeze and massage his cock, his hands planted firmly on either side of your thighs, weak with effort.

Your name left his lips in barely a whisper, and then his calloused hand wrapped under your jaw to push you against the mattress beneath him.

"Plenty o' time for that later," He said, dropping his jeans past his hips. "I need to be inside you."

"Please," You nodded, urging him to continue.

The silky head of his cock pushed against your clit, gliding down to your leaking pussy before slowly sliding inside you. Your head fell back against the pillow as you acclimated to his cock stretching you out, a guttural moan releasing from your throat.

It was slow and calculated, his eyes locked onto your expressions, only moving when your hips jolted up, your hands grabbed at his shoulders.

"More," You uttered. "Please, more."

A flash of a grin melted the concentration on his face, though quickly dissipated when he met your cervix with hesitation. He reached over you, gripping the headboard with white knuckles.

"Bloody Christ," He grunted. "You're tight, doll," He was breathless, though exerting little effort as he stumbled along, his hips barely moving against you. "And so fuckin' wet," He nearly moaned.

Your hips met his, a flush of heat overtaking your body at his words; he'd teased you before, swore worse than anyone you'd ever met, but the filth coming from his mouth made your lips part in shock.

He settled into a slow rhythm, his hips rutting into yours as you lifted your legs to his sides. Your hands clung to the back of his neck, meeting his eyes with an expression of pure lust and pleasure.

Your eyes shut, basking in the moment, configuring your body in a way that allowed him even deeper. Not a second later, he dipped his head down to your ear, his low moans and grunts against your cheek.

"Look at me," He ordered. "I wanna see you take it."

Your eyes flashed open, finding his amongst the movement.

Your words were choked up by gasps for air, especially as he sped up his pace, grinding into you, fucking his cock deep inside your pussy until you whimpered.

You could only utter his name- quiet announcements of pleasure. Your fingers slid between your bodies to find your clit, lubrication from your pussy helping to glide your fingers in circles around the sensitive bud until you clenched around him.

"You close?" He asked, tilting his head to watch your expression. "I feel you squeezin' me. Cum on it, doll," He exhaled.

He moved even closer, chest to chest, one hand now wrapped around your thigh, the other holding his body weight off of you.

His thrusts were unforgiving, even as your eyes widened and your chest broke with a loud moan.

"Right there," You nodded. "Keep it right there."

"You like it there? Deep in your cunt?" His lips were close enough that you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

"Yes," You whimpered, broken and desperate.

"Knew you'd like it deep- like my cock buried in you," He grinned momentarily. "Don't you?"

"Oh God," You nearly sobbed. "Yes- Johnny, yes."

Your thighs clenched around him, your pussy squeezing his cock as you came. His pace stuttered for a moment, your muscles milking his cock as you froze in place, your head against the pillow, lips parted, eyes glued to Johnny's.

"That's it," He cooed.

He continued thrusting, even when your limbs had liquified and you'd tried your best to hang onto him. You ignored the fatigue in your muscles, pulling him into a long kiss before craning your neck, whispering into his lips.

"Cum in me. Please."

He could've shivered, a chilling statement that made his cock rigid inside you. You were even more wet than before, noisy, messy arousal seeping from you and dripping down to the bedsheets. It was audible, loud- enough to push him over the edge, but your request immediately had him releasing warm cum deep inside you.

He breathed out, a few twitches in his body as his orgasm finished, before he slowly pulled out and laid down beside you. He reached over, tugging you into him before placing a kiss on your lips.

"Shame we hadn't done that a bit sooner," He sighed, earning a short laugh from you.

"We've got plenty of time to make up for it."

[doubleca5t]

one of the lowkey funniest parts of Soul Eater is how one of the main running gags throughout the show is that Spirit is constantly trying to hang out with Maka and develop some kind of relationship with her, but he is given no opportunity to do so because Maka just fucking hates him and at first it makes sense cause he's a letch and he cheated on her mom so like yeah he kinda sucks but then as the show goes on you start to think "hey, Maka always talks so glowingly about her mom and Lord Death keeps talking about what a prodigy she was and how amazing she is, are we ever gonna actually MEET this woman??" and then after like ten episodes of wondering that Crona has a heart to heart with Maka and he's like "hey what happened to your mom anyway?" and then Maka reveals that her mom is just.... gone???? like she got divorced from Spirit and just kinda went out for a pack of cigarettes and never came back??? and THEN when Crona asks if Maka has a favorite memory of her mom, Maka replies that it's when she got the divorce??? and it's like holy shit Spirit might legitimately be the biggest faildad in all of anime like imagine being so cringe that your daughter will only spend time with you if she loses a bet and is constantly comparing you negatively to the mother who literally abandoned her in the middle of her childhood with no explanation what a pathetic little soggy donut of a man he is I cannot think of a more fitting character to have been voiced by vince lasagna

[mamawasatesttube]

one of the funniest aro traits i have is that i NEVER notice people i know being romantically into each other. they can be the most obviously pining couple in the world flirting ridiculously hard right in front of me and ill just be like wow, look at us three besties all just hanging out :) and then they'll be like btw we're dating now! and ill go WHAT???? oh that was romance??? WHOA. like yay happy for you!!! i just didn't clock it at all whatsoever!!!! (part of this is that im just an affectionate person with my friends and ill happily flirt with my besties and physically lay all over them with absolutely no romantic intent. so i forget that sometimes people are flirty or always concerned with each other for romantic reasons. like. EVERY time it's just oh YEAH... i forgor again...)

anyways, i like to hand this to bart allen, aroace extraordinaire. guy who just straight up forgets romance is real and not something they made up for video games with romanceable companions. he's happy for his friends when they say they're dating someone, bc they're happy so yay! but until they come out and say it he will NOT clock any sort of romance going on.

now i also like to imagine that when the gang are all like in their late teens to early 20s, there's some RIDICULOUS lesbian drama going on. cassie and cissie have been kinda sorta dancing around each order for ages, but then after kon's death and resurrection cassie got distant and cissie and anita started spending more and more time together, and cassie isn't proud to admit it but she maaaay have gotten jealous and fucked rose about it, and now cissie is giving her the cold shoulder. and rose keeps flirting with cissie even though she and cassie keep having unplanned hookups, and anita just asked cassie to be her plus one to a wedding and cassie is shocked she didn't ask cissie and what's going on?! is anita hitting on her??? omg??? wait but what's going on with cissie?? and....

anyway, all of this to say cassie is going the fuck Through it and it's a mess that she keeps bemoaning to kon while languishing on his couch and eating all his ice cream (kon is listening wide-eyed like "wow. if i ever need romantic advice, i'll ask you and then do the exact opposite of whatever you say.") this whole ridiculous affair is going on for months.

until one day there's a core four sleepover and kon is like soooo is it the time of night where we start unpacking the latest developments in cassie's love life? and cassie goes AUURGHGHRHH!!!! yes but oh my god shut up don't say it like that auugghhhh

and bart just looks at her and tilts his head like a puppy dog and asks "wait. you have a love life?? since when???"

silence.

cassie gawks. kon looks positively gleeful.

and then tim starts laughing so hard he doubles over and accidentally slams his head into the corner of the coffee table hard enough to get a mild concussion. bart's aro swag claims yet another victim

[softtdaisy]

DESCRIPTION I All your relationship with Charles was based on dares. How far can it go before it becomes too much?

PAIRING I Charles Leclerc × fem!reader

WORDS COUNT I 3,7k

A/N I I never thought I would go this far with this story but I'm so happy with the way it turned out. I really hope you will like it as much as I loved writing it 💜

Ever since the day you met, you and Charles had been playing the same silly game. In French, they called cap ou pas cap. The idea was to dare the other person to do something.

It all started during your parents’ wedding.

Being six years old at a wedding was the funniest thing to do. You were watching adults having fun, drinking and dancing together. You were sitting at a table, imagining your own life as an adult. How you would be singing out loud, dancing like tomorrow didn’t exist and finding a cute boy to love if you didn’t have someone already. You imagined all the cool clothes you would be wearing, clearly better than those they were wearing now.

You were so focused on the life you were dreaming for yourself that you didn’t see the cute boy walking to you. “You’re bored too?” he asked shyly.

There weren’t that many children in the room that night. Not many of your parents’ friends brought them. But some couples couldn’t accept to let their children home. Just like the Leclerc.

You knew Lorenzo because your dad had been tutoring him a few weeks ago.

You knew Arthur because his mom came to your place to introduce him to yours.

But you never met Charles. You knew you were the same age, your mothers kept saying you should hang out together one day. You knew he was doing karting which is why you never saw him before. You knew he looked adorable because you’ve seen pictures of him.

You knew that your parents quite hoped you too would fall in love. But you were also big enough to know it was a little too early to think about that.

“Yes, I’m quite done with dancing with adults that try to say something funny. They’re not funny.” You rolled your eyes and made Charles laugh. He sat next to you, taking your answer as a right to stay with you. And it wasn’t like you would ask him to walk away.

“They keep telling me I must be breaking every girls’ heart and I don’t have the courage to tell them I don’t even have a girlfriend.” He sighed and took your drink.

You were acting like little adults in your own world. Drinking like life was too difficult to deal with, when all you had to care about was homework and karting for him. You chatted about some people you knew, mostly your parents’ mutual friends and some of their children like two gossips. And when the photographer asked if he could take a picture of you, you posed like two old friends.

It wasn’t until it was almost midnight that Charles offered to play a game of dares. Taking a picture with Arthur’s comforter. Both sharing a dance with someone the other had picked. Stealing someone’s piece of cake.

It started nicely. You had no idea that this would be the start and the thing that ruled your whole friendship.

You and Charles started to hang out more, or as much as you could since you had to ask your families every time. You had a weekly snack on Wednesday, and you convinced your parents to bring you to as many of Charles’ races.

As the years went on, it became easier to be best friends. You were calling each other all the time, sending stupid texts and would take the bus to each other’s places without your parents being there.

But never did the dares stop. They evolved with you.

As little children, you were still daring each other stupid and innocent things. Telling your parents, a whole crazy story that had actually happened in a movie. Asking Charles to steal his brother’s clothes and wear them for as long as Lorenzo doesn’t notice. Stealing a glass of wine…well this one wasn’t too innocent, and you both developed a hate for wine.

From children you became teenagers. And the dares became more adult. Or you tried to make yourself look more adult. You never dared each other to do dangerous things or anything. Just…stupidest. Like kissing someone you barely admitted having a crush on, missing a karting appointment to go to the beach (to your defense, it was your birthday) or participating in the school theater play. You were still a little mad that this started as a little dare, and you ended up with the main role.

But worse than that, you became teenagers that were slowly developing feelings. And none of you hesitated to dare the other some things that would make them jealous. You did kiss Max Verstappen after a racing kart when, stupidly, Charles dared you to kiss the winner. He thought he would win. He thought he would finally be able to kiss you, even if it was through a game. Thinking it would be less weird for the two of you.

He didn’t expect you to maintain the dare and kiss his worst opponent.

“I can’t believe you kissed him.”

You were in his family car, driving home from the race. His dad was outside, ordering food so you could spend the rest of the evening together at home. Charles was at the front. You could see him with his arms crossed and his angry face through the rearview mirror. “Then you shouldn’t have dared me to kiss the winner.” It wasn’t that you didn’t understand why he was mad. It was obvious. But still, it was his dare. Not yours.

“I was supposed to win!” he yelled, turning around to face you.

“And how is that my problem Charles? I didn’t ruin your race.”

His dad came back right after your reply. So, you didn’t get to hear his own answer to this. But you had time to think about it. The problem wasn’t that you kissed Max, even if you were pretty sure that he wouldn’t be that mad if it was anybody else. It was that you didn’t kiss him.

You spend the whole trip silently thinking about that.

“Charles wait!” you screamed when you were finally at this place and leaving the car. At first, he kept walking like he didn’t hear you. It was Charles: ignoring the problem rather than facing it. Even if the problem was one of his favorite people in the world.

Since he didn’t want to listen to you, you took the fan you brought to the race and threw it at him. “Eh!” he yelled, finally turning around to face you.

“Good, now you’re listening.” You walked to him with a big smile. You noticed how close he was to just walk away again and avoid the confrontation. But you didn’t give him the time. You grabbed his wrist to make sure he won’t leave. “I dare you…”

“Oh god, can we please st…”

“To kiss me. Charles.”

He didn’t expect that. And you could tell from the way his eyes grew big and his mouth opened without a single word coming out. “That’s where the problem lies, right? You thought I would kiss you there. Then I dare you to kiss me now.”

And he did. Because you had promised to never break a dare. And because he had been dreaming about this moment for so long.

So, Charles broke the small distance between the two of you. He approached his face so close to yours that you could feel the air coming out of his mouth. Your eyes stopped blinking to not miss every single moment of this. How he licked his lips. How his eyes were going down and forth between your eyes and your lips. How he brought his hand to your face.

You closed your eyes only when his lips finally touched yours.

It was a simple kiss. One shared but two teenagers who still had a hard time dealing with their feelings. That couldn’t find the line between game and reality.

It would be lying to tell you both didn’t abuse the kissing dare. It was almost like you couldn’t do it otherwise. It would be wrong.

You did it when you were both jealous of someone else. Especially because when you were both 18, you were playing with fire and flirting with more people than you should. You wanted to see which one would break first. Which would stop the game and say it’s over.

As much as you believed in yourself, you were convinced you would be the one giving in. Charles’ kisses were phenomenal. But they weren’t healing your broken heart. The one that kept breaking each time you were seeing him with someone new.

But Charles was the one who changed the game.

You were lying in his hotel bedroom, after partying during the post-race celebration. You were drunk, you were tired, and you were cuddling like it wasn’t hot outside. But you couldn’t resist Charles’ arms, how no matter where you were it will always bring you home. To a safe place where nothing could happen.

You looked at him, lying shirtless, with his wet and messy hair all around the pillow, his hand caressing your back. He looked like a living dream. Your living dreams. The one you had since you were a child. You brought a finger to his face and started to trace his lips. “Kiss me” he mumbled. You weren’t sure you heard him right. You sat up slightly to look at him right when he turned his head to look at you.

“You didn’t ask properly.” You replied with amusement in your voice.

“I don’t want to ask properly anymore.” He said, bringing his hand from your back to your neck.

Before you knew, your face was just above his. One movement and you kissed. One movement and you admit that it was more than a game for you.

One movement that you did.

That night, you didn’t need to dare him to make love to you either. For once, the game was put apart and forgotten.

And during the first weeks of your new and official relationship, you completely forgot about dare. You were living your love naturally. Without the constant thought of asking each other to do crazy things. Then it came back one day. Out of nowhere. For a stupid dare that didn’t even mean something. Just Charles daring you to go skinny dipping in your pool since you were alone.

But hearing him dare you was like listening to a song you haven’t heard in years. Eating a meal you haven’t been eating in months. Seeing a movie you haven’t seen since childhood.

It felt wrong. It felt weird. Somehow a little relieving too. Like nothing had changed.

And so it’s started again. Childish dares like you used to do. More sensual ones now that you were a couple. Stupider ones because you wanted to play with the limits. And sadder ones when you were arguing.

When it was good, the dares were fun.

When it was bad, the dares were terrible.

“Stop blaming me for your bad performances Charles!”

The Monaco GP was over for hours now. And Charles didn’t win either of the two F2 races. Worse, he couldn’t even finish them. You could understand that he was mad, that he was angry at the team for losing his home race. Here. In front of everyone.

That didn’t mean he had to let it all go on you.

“Then what am I supposed to do, hm?” You hated when he talked like that. Like a pretentious brat who couldn't understand that not everybody agrees with him. Like you were too stupid to understand that he could be angry.

“I don’t know, control your anger? Or at least, not fuming against me.”

“You don’t have to come if you can’t accept my bad moments. Don’t inflict that on me that.”

He wasn’t even looking at you. Drinking a stupid beer on his friend’s balcony, because he didn’t even want to come home and face his parents. Watching the party happening outside like a poor boy that wasn’t invited. It was wrong. He was invited. He didn’t want to celebrate somebody else, selfishly.  

“You’re being mean, Charles.” You sighed, walking to him, hoping you could finally calm him down.

But then he hit. Harder. “You know what?” he asked, not even turning to you like you were important enough. “I dare you to not come to the next race. So, you won’t suffer from my terrible nature.”

He knew you wouldn’t say no. None of you ever said no to a dare. So, you waited a few seconds, expecting him to break it. But that never happened before either. When a dare was said, you had to respect it.

So many things happened in a month. So many things that made Charles regret even daring you this. He should have kept it to himself. Let the anger disappear before saying something so stupid.

He needed you in Baku. He needed you by his side after going through the worst event of his life.

But he dared you not to come.

And you respected it.

You watched your boyfriend doing a perfect race weekend from home. Winning the race for someone that wasn’t there. You should have been there. Hugging him. Kissing him. Telling him how proud you were instead of texting.

It made you realize how bad this situation was. How childish it was.

“This can’t go on.” You told him when he came back.

“What do you mean?” Charles asked without even needing an explanation. He knew.

It was obvious to the both of you that something had changed. That none of you had the heart to play those silly games anymore. But more than that. You both weren’t so sure you knew how to live with each other without them. Your whole relationship had been ruled by dares. Making decisions through them.

“Is this really the life you want for us? Not being able to talk to each other or ask anything without having to put dares between us?”

Selfilishy, you hoped Charles would reassure you. Take the bigger role and make sure you still believe in your relationship.

The truth was he was just as confused and scared as you were. Worse, he felt guilty and knew it was wrong. But he wasn’t sure he was mature enough to stop that.

“I don’t know.” He sighed and you looked at him silently, waiting for more. “I don’t know what I want, I don’t know what we can do. I know nothing ok? Life has been a mess and I know nothing anymore!” You could see in his eyes all the anger and frustration he was keeping for himself.

“I’ve spent most of my life with you. Look what we became.” There was something more in what Charles just said. More than just a fact you already knew.

He spent most of his life playing with you. But now, at 20, was it really the life he wanted? Was it how a sane relationship was supposed to be like? And if you don’t stop it now, how could you know how far you’ll go?

“Charles, I dare you…” you started with a broken voice.

“Wait, no, we can…” he tried to stop you. Because he perfectly knew where this was going. He knew the game. He knew the outcome.

“To stop seeing each other for five years.”

There it was. The ultimate dare. The one you both needed but refused to see. The one you had no other choice to say to finally find a way of getting better. Feeling better.

Being better lovers.

Charles didn’t even try to negotiate or change your mind. Because if you didn’t say it, he would have. For once, he was happy to not be the one taking the rough decision. “Can I get a last kiss?” He asked. No dare. No obligation. Just a request from a broken heart to another one.

And you were glad you accepted it. You kept the feeling of his lips on yours for weeks after that day. It made things a little easier.

At least it did until you started to forget how he tasted. Or how it felt to be in his arms. Or the smell of his perfume. Or how good you used to feel after he made love to you like you were the most important person in the entire world.

Five years was a lot. But you both understood after a while that you clearly need it to grow up and be a better person.

Not seeing him didn’t mean you couldn’t follow his career. You even cheated one day, during the first year, for the Monaco GP. You hide in the crowd to watch him race. A part of you thought that he didn’t win because the universe was waiting for the day you would be together again.

You watched Charles dating other people too. People that weren’t you. People that could touch him and love him like you were supposed to. Like you used to.

That was what made you start a relationship on your own. At first you secretly claimed it was to learn how to be a better girlfriend for Charles. But as the years went on and you noticed he was still with the same girl, you convinced yourself you had the right to be happy with someone else too.

Five years went faster than you thought. When the new year started, your only thought was that you were getting him back. But you couldn’t be sure you would. Maybe Charles loved his new life like it was. Maybe he didn’t even remember the dare or the date you could finally reconcile.

Maybe he didn’t love you anymore.

When Charles received the invitation, he knew it wasn’t a coincidence. As much as it broke his heart to see your name linked with your fiancé, he knew.

Your wedding was happening right on the date the last dare was supposed to end. You were getting married on the day Charles could finally see you again.

Charles didn’t forget about you either. You were always on his mind. When he started a race, he wanted to make sure you would hear about him winning. When he posted pictures with one of his girlfriends, he wanted to make you jealous. When he was alone, he was dreaming about you being by his side. For good.

None of his relationships lasted because he could never love them like he loved you. It wasn’t a surprise that he accepted to come to your wedding alone. Not like he would have brought anyone else, anyway.

“You look…stunning.”

Charles found his way to your dressing room. He waited a little to make sure you were by yourself. He didn’t have the heart to face anybody. Worse, face your fiancé.

But you were alone. Sitting in front of the mirror. Knowing deep well that today would change your life. Either for better or for worse.

When you turned around and saw Charles standing there, you knew the answer.

“You came.” you got up immediately, taking a step toward before stopping. You needed a minute to appreciate it. He was here. The same young adult you left five years ago today was in front of you. Looking more beautiful than ever. Looking more adult, more confident. Exactly like you always imagined Charles to look like in the future.

“You invited me.” He replied. Doing exactly the same thing. Appreciating the view of the woman he loved. Except he had to deal with something more. The sight of you in a wedding dress. Something he always dreamt to see. But for him. Not for any guy. “I would have traveled to the other side of the world to see you today.”

Facing each other, you realized why you decided to get married today. It would be the ultimate proof that your love was big enough to fight for.

��Do you love him?” His arms were crossed against his chest, like he was waiting impatiently for an answer. He looked like a professional negotiator here.

“Charles…”

“I said, do you love him?” The way he looked at you directly in the eyes was like the confirmation you needed. You both grew up. None of you need those stupids games anymore to be honest and say what you need to say or do what you need to do. Charles didn’t have to force you to speak the truth by daring you to do it. You were both honest and adults now.

Adults are still in love with each other.

“I don’t.” You started walking towards him like he was the light at the end of the tunnel. The one you’ve been chasing all these years and that you were finally seeing. You knew you could do no wrong by walking to him. “I love you, Charles.”

One second. It took him one second to grab your face between his hands and give you the passionate kiss you both needed. Again, you could feel the determination on the way he was holding you tight, making sure you wouldn’t leave again. Or the way he was kissing you so deeply almost like he needed to discover you again. Entirely. One of his hands got lost on your perfect styled hair.

Charles was here to destroy the engagement you made. So you could make a new one with him.

“Can I make one last dare?” He was breathless against your mouth. It reminded you of the countless times you let your excitement take the upper hand and have sex in the first intimate place you could find. You didn’t even have the strength to reply, too busy thinking about how bad you wanted his lips on yours again. So you simply nodded at his request.

You saw a smile growing on his face. “I dare you to run away with me.”

Eight words. Eight words that you never even wished to hear.

“You can never say no to a dare.” He told you the night you met.

You didn’t plan on saying no today. At least, not to him.

So you took Charles' hand. Or actually offered him yours.

Making a pact. Accepting a dare for the last time.

“I won’t let you go ever again.” He told you once you were sitting in his Ferrari, ready to ride together and forget about the mess your love created.

“Dare?”

“Dare.”

[nyaagolor]

One of the funniest things about Investigations 2 is that Sebastian more or less addresses all his issues in that game. He's on an upward trajectory, he has a support network, he effectively leaves that game with his character development nearly tied up-- so by the time the 7yg ends, it's not unreasonable to assume that he would be a perfectly well-adjusted guy

Can you imagine him meeting the newer characters post-AA4? You have Phoenix disbarred, Klavier never addressing his brother's manipulation, Trucy never actually confronting how much she represses her emotions, Apollo with a whole HOST of trust issues, Ema jaded and miserable... can you imagine this entire cast realizing they are less well-adjusted than Sebastian Fucking Debeste?

[bogleech]

I have never played or seen a playthrough of Conker’s Bad Fur Day and I still remember it once being (still being?) the funniest move in gaming history because we were all just dimly aware of Conker as an extremely generic, simple and wholesome platformer series (well, one game?) that was only ever reviewed as just a decent quality game to buy for babies. Then halfway through the development of a new 3-d conker the devs just couldn’t take it anymore and poured all their pent-up rage into making a game where conker is a drunk horny vietnam veteran or whatever it was about, again I didn’t play it but there was a time this was outrageously hilarious news. Imagine if say kirby wasn’t popular as-is but chugged along for years with mediocre reception until nintendo snapped and made a kirby game in which he fucks and smokes weed, and also imagine this happening while you’re a child and in the 90′s. We lost our damned minds over Conker doing a cuss word.

[hee0soo]

Limitless

PAIRING — Kim Hongjoong x afab!MUAReader

SUMMARY — Watching your boyfriend film for their new MV was torture, especially when said boyfriend was also a giant tease!

GENRE — IdolAU

WARNINGS — unprotected sex, penetrativ sex, oral (m receiving), dirty talk

WORD COUNT — 3.5k

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Rewritten and released

It had never been your plan to end up as a Make-up Artist when yon finished school! Much less be in charge of the styling for KQ's boy groups!

You knew your way around Make-up, having started a YouTube Channel when you were just a teenager with an interest, you had managed to gather a small fan base as you slowly learned what worked for you and what you liked.

It wasn't until you actually had to decide what you wanted to do with your life when you decided that was ultimately a hobby, was what you wanted to do to make a life for yourself. You trained under professionals and when you had the necessary qualifications you began applying for jobs. There weren't many company’s or labels ready to take a risk for a basically inexperienced Make-up Artist, but KQ was a very small, unknown company bordering on bankruptcy in need of a new Artist for their only active group! And even if it wasn't a lot of money you got out of it, it was more then you had earned in a while.

At the beginning you had only helped the MUA in charge, never being left on your own until you had proven that you were indeed capable of being left unsupervised.

The members had just celebrated their 2nd anniversary as a group when that happened.

The boys were elated when the MUA in charge announced that you would be in charge of Hongjoong and Mingi that day and the companionship that had developed over the year allowed  a close friendship to form without the prying eyes of your supervisor.

They were all close in age and some of the sweetest and funniest people you had ever met and quickly added you to their little friend group...

Especially the captain had taken to you very fast. You didn't know why  and he also wouldn't tell you, but soon you were thick as thieves. It was as if you had known each other for years.

It got to a point where Hongjoong started inviting you over to his studio. Sometimes you just hung out with him, talking and eating food you had brought. Sometimes you watched how he worked on his music and got to listen to his crafts. The fact that he let you listen to the songs before he showed them to his member, was something the two of you kept a secret!

You couldn't help him with anything since didn't know how everything worked but you loved watching him in his element and he loved the quiet but reassuring company you gave him. It gave him a sense of security and comfort to have you there.

When it became clear that ATEEZ was there to stay in the industry, you were appointed as the captain's personal Make-Up Artist and stylist!

You had been ecstatic when the head stylist had sat you down in the conference room and pushed a new contract over the table, telling you that Hongjoong had requested you specifically.

And now that it has been almost 4 years since you started, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else!

Somewhere along those years of working together with the man, the feelings of friendship turned into a crush and a crush turned into a loving relationship!

It wasn't something you two could show to the world as to not cause a scandal and that was fine. It was more than fine cause it let you live in this bubble that was just for you and Hongjoong. Sure, the fact that you weren't able to do things other couples were able to do sometimes caused frustrations but your boyfriend always found ways to make up for it.

The only people who knew, were the ones who HAD to know like the other members, the closest co-workers you worked with, the CEO and Hongjoong's parents. That man couldn't hide anything from his mother Especially not the person who made him happier then he had ever been!

Telling the boys was easier than you had thought it would be. A worry of yours had been that the members would be against your relationship because of the problems it could bring for the group if it was ever made public. But the way Wooyoung had jumped out of his seat, screamed "TIME TO PAY UP HYUNGS!" and made his round to collect money from the disappointed members quickly proved you wrong!

Apparently they had bet on how long it would take the two of you to get your heads out of your asses and just kiss already.

Some of them were called into Hongjoong’s room that day...! What had happened in there was a mystery even to you!

When Hongjoong had played the final draft for Limitless on one of your studio dates, he had not said much on what the concept was going to be but when you saw the possible outfits in the stylist/Make-Up meeting you swallowed hard! And seeing him dressed in an all black suit with red sash an detailed embroidery, paired with his swept back hair and Make-up on the set of the MV, it made you feel some type of way!

Having him stand in front of you to touch up his foundation was hard! Looking at you with those knowing eyes, he stood completely still as to not disturb your Work process but he couldn't hide the teasing smirk fighting it's way onto his lips.

"Stop it!" you whined while dabbing at his face.

Your boyfriend wasn't able to stop himself from huffing out a quiet laugh. He found the way he effected you way too funny.

"What do you mean my love? I'm not even doing anything!"

Blinking at you he made a face full of fake innocence.

"Not doing anything my ass! You know what you are doing, looking all handsome in your shit and all! And I’m not even allowed to touch what's mine..." you grumbled under your breath.

His hands, that were previously clasped together behind Hongjoong’s back, came forward and found their place on your waist. You could feel the heat of his skin through the fabric of your blouse as he gently pulled you towards him, running his thumbs up and down your side. It caused a shudder to ran down your spine.

"Yours huh?"

Looking up from what you were doing, you caught his warm gaze, hands faltering a little when you felt his hands wandering down, hovering just over your butt but not quite touching.

You let out a shaky sigh, hoping that Hongjoong didn't catch onto it.

It was hard enough to resist him on a normal day, let alone when he looked this delectable and his touch made it even harder! This was, after all, still your workplace and having the boys or staff witnessing this interaction was not something you wanted.

His brown orbs however, were not letting you hide away from him while his right hand slowly traveled further down to your butt.

"Joongie, stop. It! Not here please!" you hissed, the touch causing you to panic ever so slightly.

 'What's wrong love? Something the matter?"

Tense you punched his shoulder at his teasing.

"YAH, Hongjoong-ah stop eye-fucking her already! She already looks like a mess. No need for her to drop to her knees in the middle of filming!"

Seonghwa said as he passed you, careful to not let anyone else hear what he had said.

 Blood was rushing to your ears and neck and you hoped that he didn't notice the exact state you were in.

The leader was startled too but ultimately didn't let go of you.

"Don't worry jagiya, he doesn't know just how messy you can really get! And as soon as we get home I am all yours..." Hongjoong leaned closer and whispered right into your ear. Goose bumps spread all over your skin like a wildfire when you felt his breath caress your heated skin.

The man let go of your waist and ass and sauntered back to where the director was standing with his members.

A frustrated sigh escaped from your lips and you walked back to your little work space.

Sometimes you really hated how much your boyfriends teasing affected you! Filming wasn't even close to being over and during the entire rest of the day Hongjoong send suggestive looks your way.

You couldn't wait to get home already!

Finally, after hours of sexual tension and desire you were back at your apartment! Even your coworkers had wished you a fun filled night before sending you home with a wink.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you found yourself pressed up right against the wood with a thud. Lips pressed to the column of your neck, Hongjoong was kissing every inch of skin he could reach, nipping and biting leaving marks you would have to cover up the next day.

A soft whimper left you and you could feel yourself getting wet as you pressed your legs together to get some kind of release. You desperately held onto him

Standing chest to chest, Hongjoong could feel you tremble against him. The hand that was previously holding himself up on the door, found it's way under your shirt cupping your breast through your bra. His jeans clad leg pushed between your legs and against your pussy through your own pants. It was by far not enough but it was enough to let you moan at the pressure. You felt his other hand at the back of your neck, playing with the hair he could reach.

"Hongjoong..."  you rasped out at the feeling of his hard cock against your thigh.

The man stopped littering your skin with marks only for a second to press his lips against your own, month slightly apart as a whine fought its way out of you.

"Did you really get that turned on watching me work my love?"

Of course he had noticed the way you shifted around in your passenger seat, not being able to sit still while he drove.

You shivered at the husky tone his voice had taken on.

He found your nipple with his fingers rolling it just the way he knew you liked before biting down on your lower lip. Desperate to feel him once more against your mouth you followed his lips as he pulled away frustrated when you couldn't reach him.

"Joongie... don't tease me..." you whined, panting.

The way Hongjoong let his eyes trail over your face left you breathless. He was so incredibly beautiful! Funnily enough Hongjoong thought the same thing about you!

Removing his right hand from under your shirt, he lifted his fingers to your face, thumb tracing over the lip he had just bitten and was now currently stuck between your own teeth! Releasing the abused flesh you instead searched for his finger to wrap your lips around, sucking and licking on the digit.

Hongjoong groaned at the feeling.

"Is my baby that desperate for me? That she has to suck on my fingers?"

You nodded, brain going fuzzy at the way he spoke to you like you were just a dumb little toy for him to play with.

"Joongie please kiss me..." you whined wanting to feel him even closer. He easily complied, not able to deny you this simple request when you had to hold yourself back the entire day.

It wasn't that you were ever told to not show any affection but both of you knew that if you kissed even once, you wouldn't be able to stop that easily!

Various moments of the members walking in on you doing the nasty proved that.

Your months slotted together like two puzzle pieces and Hongjoong couldn't help but moan when he felt your tongue begging to be let inside!

Willingly parting  them you were both fighting for dominance in a heated battle you quickly gave up when Hongjoong tucked at your hair harshly. A high pitched moan escaped again and you clenched around nothing.

It only egged you on further. Gathering all your strength you pushed against his chest. The rapper looked confused for a moment but realized what you were up to when you took his hand and led him to your bedroom.

He pushed you onto the bed before he slipped out of his shirt and crawled on top of you. The man almost ripped the blouse you were wearing in his try to get you out of it, revealing the black lace of your bra. His mouth found it's way back to yours while his fingers traced over your stomach ever so gently.

You shivered in anticipation.

"You are so fucking sexy my love! It's driving me insane. You are driving me insane!"

Hongjoong helped you out of your jeans with hurried movements before stepping out of his own pair. Leaving the two of you in only your underwear! You sat up to roll down the briefs he was wearing finally freeing him from his prison of fabric. His cock sprang free and your mouth started watering.

Licking your lips, you took his hand and made him lay down on the bed, crawling between his legs and getting comfortable there.

"Love you don't have to..." he started but got silenced by you licking at his tip like a kitten searching for it's milk. You let your tongue trail over the tip a few more times, licking up the underside of his shaft you looked up at Hongjoong who almost came right on the spot.

Having you on his knees in front of him between his legs was a sight to behold.

Hongjoong let out a loud grunt at the heavenly feeling of you taking him in your mouth as much as you could and his hands held onto the  white sheets of your bed. Hallowing your cheeks you began bopping your head in a slow rhythm, gradually picking up the speed as you went. Sucking on him like you were starving you wrapped your hand around the base of his dick, applying just enough pressure for your boyfriend to let out a series of swear words at the additional feeling and he couldn't stop himself from bucking his hips up into the warm heat of your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag little because of the sudden movement.

Tears were gathering in your eyes making them shiny as you refused to let the tears fall.

"I'm sorry Iove..."

You let go of his cock with a loud smack of your lips, fluttering your eyes at him.

"Please fuck my throat daddy?"

Starring at you with his mouth wide open he couldn't believe the words coming from you. This was definitely not the first time you had called him that but usually he had to coax it out of you and the dirty words paired with the wide teary gaze you gave him he felt like a teenager all over again!

"Fuck baby you- yesss..."

With the plead leaving his month, you dived back in, sucking on him as if you were eating a lollipop, only that his right hand found its way to the back of your head, helping you find a new rhythm.

Keeping you where he needed you most!

Feeling himself getting closer and closer to his climax the longer he fucked your throat, Hongjoong pulled you off of him, causing you to whine in protest as he took away your treat.

He loved your mouth, but he loved your pussy way more.

Hongjoong man handled you around until you were sitting in between his legs, made quick work with your bra and panties and smirked at you like a cat who caught it's pray. In a sense he did.

"Yah!" you swore when the sound of ripping fabric reached your ears.

"I'll buy you knew one's!" he shushed you, pulling you down on his thigh.

"You are dripping all over my thigh when I haven't even touched you yet! Are you really that desperate for my cock? Do you really want it that that much?"

With his hands guiding you, you had no other choices but to grind your pussy against the muscle of his leg. Your clit dragging on his skin, stimulating you ever further making you fall against his chest.

"Come on baby answer me. Do you want my cock to fill you up? Want me to fuck you so good the only thing you remember is who's fucking you so good? Do you want that?"

Nodding your head up and down you hid your face in his chest.

There was a moment of silence where all that could be heard in the room was your own panting as Hongjoong admired the view that he had. A smirk crept onto his lips and his left hand came up to caress the back of your head.

"Beg for it!"

Your face reappear das you threw him a dazed look.

"You heard me my pretty love. If you want it, beg!"

You whimpered, desperate find some kind of relieve. But Hongjoong had other plans. If you didn't want to beg, you would have to do it yourself so he let go of your waist entirely and the rhythm he had guided you in faltered.

"No Hongjoong I- " you gasped out.

He looked entirely to pleased with the situation but unfortunately for you he was right, you did want him to fuck you like that so the only thing you could do was comply with order.

"Please ..."

"Please what jagiya? I don't know what you mean?"

Something that sounded suspiciously like, "Asshole!" was muttered, followed by a need," Please daddy, can I have your cock? Want you to fuck me..."

Hearing you beg almost made him purr in delight. The tears still clinging onto your lower lash line made them shine brightly.

You were still desperately rutting your clit against his leg and you moaned loudly when he flexed the muscle with purpose underneath you. Whimpers left your mouth and the rapper could see that you weren't going to be able to get off yourself, at least not like this!

When you realized that he didn't have any intention of helping you tried once more Putting on you most innocent look leaned close to his ear an whispered, "Please ... want you to fill me so good daddy, want you to pump me full of your babies..."

Hongjoong's breath hitched at hearing your words and his cocky attitude faltered for just a moment.

"Pump you full of my babies? Huh? That would be a sight... My baby carrying my babies..."

"Hmm yes please?" you purred, clenching around nothing.

"Of course my love, asking so politely for what you want! For what’s already yours! How could I ever say no to that?"

Giddy you got fully into his lap only for Hongjoong to line himself up at your entrance and let the tip catch onto the opening.

Slowly you let yourself sink down on him and you both let out sounds of pleasure and satisfaction.

As soon as he bottomed out and was fully sheeted inside of you, he flipped the two of you around so you were now underneath him as Hongjoong almost pulled out entirely only to fuck up into your warm heat again hard. His thrusts were slow but powerful and it made you see stars as he hit your sensitive spot over and over again.

Your mouth fell open to let out a silent scream but the only thing escaping Where short busts of air as you gasped, hands gripping onto his shoulder tightly. You were pretty sure you were leaving marks all over his back.

The clapping sounds of skin hitting skin filled the room and you hooked your legs together around his middle, trying to keep him even closer.

Your boyfriend pressed his mouth to your initiating a heated make out session that had you tightening around his dick, making him groan.

He sped up his thrust into brutal pace that had you moan loudly and you send a silent apology to your neighbors.

"You were just made for me, taking me so well my pretty love!"

Hongjoong could feel himself getting closer and judging by how your warm heat fluttered around him, you weren’t far behind.

He reached down between your join body’s, thumb finding your clit easily rubbing steady figure 8 onto the bud of nerves to help bring you closer to the edge. It worked wonders and you soon came around Hongjoong sending him over the edge as well.

In moment like these you were glad you were on the pill!

To lazy to pull outright away, the male laid his head down on your chest, listening to your heart slowly calming down again, still trying to catch his breath.

"I love  MV shootings!" you sighed still blissed out by what just happened.

Hongjoong lifted his head to look you in the eyes, smiling lovingly up at you.

"I love you!"

Taglist: @marirose25

[achillean-knight]

Woe, doodles be upon ye

HC's below the cut if you're absolutely interested in my Spiderverse Noir HC's + his world 👉👈

First the ones I agree with that I've seen a shit ton of people mention >:33

- He is a fatherly figure to Peni. I can imagine when they see each other again, she'd run to him and give him the biggest fucking hug ever. She experienced her Canon Event between ITSV and ATSV too, right? So I can see her needing comfort so badly, and the only ones she ever truly grew close to were Noir and Ham.

- He'd 10000/10 get along so well with Hobie. Along with Hobie legit mentioning his hatred for the AM, PM and fuckin NAZIS IN THE COMIC ,

he'd be rambling so much with Noir about common interests and get along so well with him. Imagine he badazzles him in punk attire and based on this image:

(I'll link where I found the image tomorrow when I'm on my laptop lol if I remember) but based on this image, he teaches Noir how to play the guitar and shit and OUYGG I WANNA SEE THEM INTERACT (they're my fave Spiderverse characters so 👉👈)

- OHOHOHO He loves the colour purple. So much. He can't see it, ofc but he has such a love for the colour that he sees any beautiful colour- or well, of what he can see of colours, and thinks every pretty colour is Purple.

- MJ see's Noir/Peter as a brother and he see's MJ as a sister in turn. There is no romantic attraction at all. Yeah, this means MJ see's Aunt May as a nice Aunt Figure she can go to and talk to about things.

Now onto some of my own headcanons- or some that I don't see mentioned a ton. These have probably been said before but oh well, these are just what I like and my brain go BRRR

- Felicia is taller then Noir. (For those unfamiliar, Felicia is a character from the comic.) Yes that'd probably make her freakishly tall based on how tall Noir is in the movie, but that comic panel of when he first meets her rots in my brain.

- Felicia still has her mask from her ordeals. However, unlike how she pushes away Peter, they actually become friends again. Comfort each other. They swore they'd never be in a relationship again.

- Noir is a combo of both his OG comics personality and 2020's comics personality. I see movie noir as anywhere between 19 - 21. He's learning and developing as a human still. He's calmer and kinder and resembles how his personality is in the newer comics, however, based on this deleted scene LOL, makes me think he looses his shit easily and goes actually feral.

(here's the link to where I found the video BC I actually saved the link lol yeah it's reblogged by yours truly, but the full post is there.)

- Oh yeah, Noir most definitely adopted Ding Ding btw. He probably is nearly at the newer comics stage of his life, being a private eye and such, drinking his fucking egg creams like newer comics noir SBSBBS So he found and adopted Ding Ding.

- Despite being young (19 - 21) he has serious eyebags man, dudes sleep deprived 😔 I'm also heavy on the Spiderverse portrait of him unmasked that I don't really draw/see him with facial scars but he could totally have them after the shit he went through 💀

- Noir is a part-time singer. I will not elaborate.

There's so many other things I wrote down that I want to share, but they're on my computer 😭 so you get these for now hhhh

Sorry if they're half-assed, it's 10:30 pm, I am tired

[comradekatara]

Based on you own ideas of how the atla characters would develop in the future, in a time travel au which character do you think would be funniest to have wake up as their younger selves right at the start of s1? Sokka i personally think would hate it in a particularly hilarious way but i feel like there is also a lot of potential with ozai or king kuei for they ways it could derail the plot and confuse the shit out of everyone around them

LMFAO okay i am imagining kuei waking up one unspecified day and suddenly just knowing everything about the war while long feng continues to lie to him. this would be a really funny premise for a fanfic if kuei was even like. 20% smarter but unfortunately he’d just expose himself and long feng would have no choice but to imprison or straight up kill him and then claim that kuei contracted tuberculosis or something. ozai waking up back in power but with the knowledge of how he will be deposed is kind of terrifying, but i’m also laughing because that’s literally the plot of madame web. and yeah sokka would be incredibly frustrated because even more than before, he literally knows exactly what to do in any given situation, and absolutely no one is listening to him. and every time he proves his powers of prophecy they’re just like “wow!!!” and then continue to disregard everything he says anyway. the funniest thing about sokka Knowing is his relationship to zuko though, because zuko is the only person he actually does 180 on (unless you count aang, but like, eh), and it’s because zuko genuinely did suck and then he grew to suck a little less. but sokka would finally know what iroh meant by “he has good inside of him” and so he’d find ways to like. torture him. by quoting act 2 scene 3 lines 43-57 of love amongst the dragons while they’re fighting or something like that.

which brings me to the most obvious candidate. zuko is just clearly the forerunner here it’s not even a contest. everyone else grows a lot internally too, but zuko’s external growth is by far the most pronounced across the show. book 1 zuko literally has the opposite goals of book 3 zuko. so when zuko wakes up on his boat and has his stupid ponytail and is just like “what the fuck is going on,” he’s relieved to see that he’s in the south pole so maybe sokka and katara will have answers as to what is happening to him. and due to his lethal lack of tact, he still approaches their village in his giant hunk of metal and crashes through their wall and terrifies everyone. sokka is staring him down, preparing to die, clutching his weapons, and zuko just runs up to him and tackles him in a hug before sokka can even respond. and then he runs up to katara and hugs her too while she shrieks her head off and tries to fight him. and sokka is just standing there utterly humiliated because he couldn’t even defend himself against his attack….. and now he’s got his sister………. he’s a complete failure……… but zuko doesn’t even care that sokka is having an existential crisis and katara is screaming bloody murder, he’s just like “boy oh boy my best friends i sure am glad to see you :)” while they just keep trying to attack him and kill him. yeah, now that’s what i call comedy.