#it’s always them at the top together. and i’m always like ‘oh goddamit’

[transphilza]

i never See myself as an sbi main per say but then whenever i try to list out my favorite ccs or my favorite characters it’s literally all sbi and i’m like well Ok maybe they are my favoritest guys in the wholewideworld. maybe they are!!!!

[despressolattes]

Soooo, I was scrolling through Bakugou angst hashtag and I found that SOMEBODY 👀 wanted some requests... So here I am :3 💖💖 I couldn't find rules sooo sorry if I break one, also if it's too much characters, just choose from them 💖 Can I get Bakugou, Hawks and Denki if they cheated? 💖 Some scenarios about them cheating and their s/o finding out and breaking up with them? And make it really sad? 💖💖 Thank you :3 💖 Make sure to drink enough water and get enough rest 💖 Have a great day 💖

CHARACTERS: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

a/n: sorry, i just started watching the show last week and have yet to get to see hawks! i also feel like i haven’t seen enough of kaminari to write about him, so for now, this will just be bakugou! once i see more of those two i’ll write one for them!

WARNINGS: cheating, angst

•─────────°❋❀°─────────•

DON’T GO DESTROYING PEOPLE’S PERSPECTIVES ON LOVE; katsuki bakugou

You had known Katsuki Bakugou for as long as you could remember. The two of you went to the same grade school, and then the same junior high. Despite not being friends with the explosive boy:—quirk and temper wise—at that age, you watched him grow from the sidelines. You watched as Izuku Midoriya went from one of his childhood friends/admirers to someone Bakugou couldn’t stand the sight of.

You watched as his inflated ego burned the dedication of beating anyone and everyone into him.

You watched.

It was when he found out that you were applying to U.A high for the Hero Program that he started to pay attention to you. Your quirk had been the opposite of his: you could manipulate water in any of its three forms.

He paid attention to how you racked up points at the Battle Trials, he paid attention to you when you ended up in Mr. Aisawa’s class together and had to go through the weird first-day of school quirk assessment tests together.

He paid attention.

And watching and paying attention slowly became asking one another to spar together, sparing together turned into talking, talking turned into walking to class together, and walking to class together turned into hanging out at each other’s house’s to do school work.

And THAT turned into the development of feelings. From Kirishima noticing that you two were always together at school and asking Bakugou about it just a tad bit too loud, piquing the interest of your fellow classmates. Mina then wanted to know everything about what was going on, and Ochako insisted that she was there for you if you ever wanted to talk.

Todoroki, who seemed like he somewhat possessed both yours and Bakugou’s quirks, just in the form of ice and fire, nonchalantly added that he saw you two together outside of school.

Oh how you and Bakugou both wanted to hit Mr. Half-n-Half for that subtle comment, said in his normal monotonous voice, acting like he had no care in the world.

“Yeah? And why the hell are you even looking at me and Y/N, huh, Icy-Hot?” Bakugou barks at him, and Todoroki merely looks away, acting uninterested in the conversation.

•─────────°❋❀°─────────•

You suppose reminiscing on your U.A days together wasn’t the best decision to be making as you packed your bags. Standing at the foot of your bed—old bed—with your luggage on top, piling clothes into it, you had to gulp back tears that threatened to spill.

You heard the door to your apartment—old apartment—open, and you instantaneously tensed. You had hoped that you could get out of the apartment before Katsuki got home, but apparently nothing could go your way.

“Hey, Y/N?” you heard Bakugou’s voice call out from either the living room or kitchen, sounding a bit grumpy, which was his default tone anyways.

You stilled, not daring to say anything.

“She left a note? Silly woman?” you heard him mumble to himself, and you realized he was now looking at the farewell letter you had left on the coffee table. 

It almost broke your heart to hear him say silly woman. Bakugou’s vocabulary almost always consisted of insults and curse words, but he tended to substitute his normal vulgar language for something more tender if it was directed at you. Now, if he was speaking to Kirishima, he’d probably get called a shitty man.

Tears fells rapidly down your face, and you held your hand to your mouth to try to muffle any sobs.

“What the—” you heard Bakugou curse, and an explosion followed. You could already imagine the crumpled up letter in ashes and scorched.

“Like hell she thinks—”

His footsteps vibrated through the apartment, and you knew he was making his way towards the bedroom. Unsure if he knew you were home or not, you quickly manipulated the tears on your face to the door, freezing the lock.

As if that would do anything, you scoffed to yourself, really hating the fact that Bakugou could easily melt the ice or just blow up the entire door.

“Y/N?!” Bakugou’s voice was frantic when he realized you were home on the other side of the door. “You silly woman, open this damn door and talk to me!”

He wiggled on it a few times, pounding on it.

You didn’t answer, and frantically closed your luggage. You glanced around, seeing nothing else you needed. The rest of them could be repurchased if you were to just leave now.

You looked at the window, at the jump it would be to get to the floor from your fourth floor apartment. It was a good thing you were a hero trained for stunts like this.

“Goddamit,” Bakugou grumbled. “If you’re near the door, stand back, I’m blasting it to shreds.”

But you weren’t by the door, before you were jumping out of your old bedroom window with your suitcase in your arms and tears flying down your face. Bakugou ran to the window, watching as you ran down the street, not even stopping to look at him.

His eyes drooped, and he watched you go, replaying the words in your note over and over again.

“Katsuki,

If you’re reading this, then I’ve made my leave from the place we once shared together and called home. I suppose you’re out right now, with that girl. You know the one I’m talking about. The same one I saw you with last month while I was grocery shopping, and I brushed it off as a fan or civilian who had borrowed a few moments of your time. Then, it seemed as if you grew more distant from me. Always on your phone, always distracted, always with a guilty look behind your ruby eyes.

Then, I saw you with her a few more times, but again, I tried to push the image of you to the back of my head because who said you can’t make new friends?

The image I couldn’t push to the back of my head was the image I had yesterday, walking into the apartment around noon to surprise you with lunch on your day off. You had expected I’d be out all day, and there you were, asleep on our bed with a woman who was not me, letting her sleep on my side and letting her cuddle up to the man who was mine. Mine since high school. Mine since the days when he was intolerable to most of our classmates, but I saw through his angry demeanor and tried to pour and push and shove as much love into his sorry personality as I could.

And all of our friends had thought I had done a good job. I guess I didn’t do as good a job as I thought.

But how dare you? I’m not saying that I deserve to be loved back all because I loved you, but I did deserve more than being half-loved. I deserved more than being loved just enough to not want to leave, but seeing someone else on the side. I deserved more than this deception and betrayal.

If my best was no longer good enough for you, you should’ve told me instead of allowing another person in our home.

Don’t go destroying other people’s perception of love just because you no longer feel any for them. I wish you had just broken up with me instead.

So, I’m the one that’s leaving, and like you, I’m offering you no chance to talk about it. Just like you gave me no chance of talking about what to do with our relationship when you began falling out of love with me.

I think I might always love you, Katsuki,

But today, I am going to do what you couldn’t, and love me more.”

[whimsywispsblog]

RED

A/N: ANGST! ANGSTTTT!

TW: Blood, gore, graphical descriptions of corpses, panic attacks

Chapter 2- Tears

Working with Hudson wasn't as bad as Rei thought it would be. Granted, he's one hell of a moody bastard, but atleast he let her have her peace instead of glaring at her with those predator eyes like Adler's.

"Mr Hudson! Who is Bell?" Hudson looked at Rei and glanced down at the file she was holding, a little spark of discomfort kindled in his eyes.

"He was one of Perseus' agents who we managed to brainwash using the MK-Ultra. He was the most succ-"

"Mk-Ultra?! I thought that was a myth!" Hudson rolled his eyes, irritated at the girl's sudden interruption. She muttered a small 'sorry', biting her lower lip. Gah, I'm an idiot. Control yourself, dammit.

"What happened to him?"

"He had to be killed." Rei's eyebrows knitted in confusion. Her face tilted slightly, in curiosity. Hudson sighed softly and sat up straight, readying himself to indulge in her curiosity.

"He was a loose end. He could turn his back anytime, we never know." Rei looked back at her file. It had a bloody handprint on it. She ran her hand over the handprint. "Who killed him?"

"His handler, Adler." Rei inhaled sharply. So, he is putting my life in the hands of a man who can kill a person mercilessly. Lovely. Rei started fidgeting with her necklace again- too many questions swirled in her mind. Can I trust Adler? What if he thinks of me as a loose end too? Is that why Hudson wanted him with me? He should never know about my fath-

"What's on your mind?" Hudson stared into her dark chocolate brown eyes. He could see several questions sprouting from her head.

"It's just...He doesn't seem like the kind of guy I would like to work with. He just feels too...too closed off. I don't know if I can trust him." Hudson's lips curled into a small smile. He expected this to happen. "Rei. If you're worried about Adler turning his back on you, remember this: Adler is responsible for you during the mission, after that you're under my wing. You won't be working with him as much as you will with me." Rei gave a small wry smile. I am definitely not the first person Hudson has convinced about Adler's trustworthiness and goodwill.

"Anyway, speaking of Adler, he will come in tomorrow. He will brief you more on Bell if you're interested." Her face dropped into a sullen expression. For one whole week, much to her happiness, the scary-looking Mr Shades never crossed paths with her. It was as if he disappeared into thin air. Where he was, what he was doing, she did not care for it- she just didn't want to meet him and she prayed to every single God to make it happen. For once, the Gods did listen to my prayers!

"And a word of advice: Try not to get into his bad books," Chewing her thumbnail unconsciously, Rei bombarded her head with several scenarios. Wait...he advised me. Does that mean- Oh God, I am already a red flag to him. Fuck.

"Okay. Thank you, Mr Hudson." Back to the theatrics again, huh.

"Also, your flight to West Berlin has been scheduled for tomorrow, 3 am. Don't miss it."

3am?! Goddamit Hudson! Rei dramatically banged her head against the table, earning a small chuckle from the older man.

-

"Is that all we have on her? Nothing more?" Adler asked Sims.

"Nope. That's all we have. She looks pretty innocent to me, Doc. I wouldn't worry about her if I were you." Adler kept skimming through Rei's file for the nth time in the week. He could find nothing about the girl, except whatever Hudson had told him.

"That's exactly what bothers me. It's always the innocent ones." Sims raised an eyebrow at Adler. He wasn't looking at him, he was looking elsewhere. Following his line of sight, Sims finally understood who he was staring at, or more like, glaring at. Rei Ivanov. When he looked closer, it wasn't Rei who was in his line of sight. It was the object that she held onto which Adler threw his fierce glare at.

She was busy playing with her pendant again and in her hands, she held the brown file with the bloody handprint. Bell's file. Stuffing the file into a little owl-shaped bag, the girl left Langely. Adler's eyes trailed after Rei for a bit, till she was out of the man's sight. Sighing deeply he walked back to the office.

"Ah should have got my favourite winter coat." The girl wriggled in her sweater dress uncomfortably.

Back in her home, she immediately rushed towards the kitchen for a cup of hot cocoa. It was a simple yet sophisticated home. Black sofas with pink rugs and fairy lights adorned on the walls. A few pictures of some of the places she had been to during her time as a War Correspondent was neatly arranged on top of the small fireplace that she lit up whenever she felt lonely. Today was one of those days.

Curling on one of the sofas with her favourite cat plushie in one hand and hot cocoa in the other, Rei stared at the fireplace, the fire blazing in its pristine orange. She slowly leaned back, closing her eyes lightly. A lone tear-drop fell off her eye as she slowly started to walk down the memory lane.

Fire.

Screaming.

Fire.

A smell of burnt flesh filled the air. The skin of the burnt victims almost melted away, bones painted with blood-red sticking out of the corpses. Little moths sat on top of the corpses, devouring the flesh. Limbs hanging from a tree or a broken pole, some corpses with a body part missing, others have their intestines splattered out. Suddenly, two bloodied hands engulfed her. Turning around, she saw a man without half a face- his inners sticking out.

Rei gasped for breath as she opened her eyes. She fell off her sofa, her coca spilt on her expensive rug. She couldn't breathe- there was a pain in her chest. Clenching her chest, Rei tried to crawl towards the phone, but she couldn't move. She cried and cried- her tears flowed endlessly from her big doe-like eyes.

"Stop crying. Stop crying." She whispered to herself, slowly focusing on her breathing- her therapist's advice. That did the trick. It took her a good 15 minutes to recover from her sudden breakdown- one she had every night. She looked up at the clock. It was 4 hours to 3 am.

"I should pack, then leave. The maid can clean my rug." She muttered to herself slowly, trying to stand up with the help of the handle of her sofa.

-

"In short, the flight was shit, I am sleepy and I am starving," Hudson chuckled at Rei's extremely irritates answer. He had agreed to pick up Rei, thankfully, and brought her some food too, a sub with a nice cup of hot cocoa.

"How did you know I love cocoa?" Hudson smirked lightly, his eyes glued to the road.

"I am an agent for a reason, Rei." Rei rolled her eyes at the very vague reply. She continued munching on her sub, hungrily and trying to not make a mess in his car, which was extremely difficult for the poor girl.

After a very boring and painful two hours of travel, including pestering Hudson every five minutes with the question 'Are we there yet?'; the duo finally arrived at the safehouse. It was a big rusty monstrous building. It did have an eerie aura to it. Rei looked around the safehouse- it was just a green barren land.

"Come on in Rei, I want you to meet someone." A wave of social anxiety splashed over Rei as she awkwardly walked into the safehouse. Her nails dug deep into the soft flesh of her thumb and her teeth bit into her inner lips, drawing a little blood from the force.

"This is Helen Park, from MI6. She will be the one who will help you around with cross-referencing any intel we get." MI6! She's British, then? Must be an old acquaintance of the team.

Helen was a beautiful woman. She had a certain light charisma that radiated from her- one that was hard not to ignore. She did seem like a person one would immediately open their hearts out to- maybe because of her friendly and warm aura that was strikingly different from Hudson's and Adler's cold aura. Especially Adler's dark and unfriendly one. Rei shuddered at the thought of her first meeting with Adler lightly, but lucky for her, both the agents never noticed it.

Putting on her famous charming smile, Rei politely introduced herself to her, overemphasising her innocent exterior. Atleast my innocent face should keep me out of trouble. She hoped. And just as she hoped, Park did take in her innocent act. Good job Rei!

"Alright time for work," Hudson shouted out to the women. While Hudson was busy talking to Park about some meeting that should happen later, the evidence board had a picture of an old man in black and white, with a few red strings connecting him to other pictures that caught Rei's eye. Perseus.

"Rei, go to that room, there are a few files there. Try to piece together whatever you can. Park, you know what to do." Rei nodded, walking towards the room that Hudson had pointed out to.

It was a dark and dusty room. Cold too. Rei placed her bag on her table and fished through it. She pulled out a few papers that she had kept in her bag. They were some information about the operational Gulags and another tattered picture.

Thank you Rebecca for pulling those strings.

Rebecca, a close friend of Rei's was one woman who could pull several strings to get any amount of information. She knew quite a lot of people in the CIA- a few of them high up the food chain. She got Rei whatever she could get her hands on about the Gulags. And a small photograph of someone by the name Victor Kuzmin.

Taking the files Hudson had asked her to study, Rei kept them in front, the papers of the Gulag and Victor on her lap. "Okay! Time to start my reading on these. Maybe after my homework, I can casually pick a conversation with Hudson about the Gulag. No, maybe not Hudson." Rei kept trying to break her head over who to approach for the info about any recent survivors from the Gulag, but then there would be a high chance that she would be suspected, not to mention, her last name itself would have definitely raised a lot of eyebrows. Especially Adler's antennas, no doubt.

"Interesting, you're into Gulags." That dark gravelly voice. Adler. How the fuck did I not see him come in! Now he's definitely going to doubt me.

"Nice necklace," He exhaled his smoke, closing the door behind him, walking towards the young girl. The girl prayed and invoked all the Gods- old and new-to help her get out of the situation alive and unharmed.

"Ah yes. They pluck on my imagination- the whole setting of it. Quite poetic too- darkly poetic if someone were to write about, you know, a survivor who's been rotting in there for years, now out of the hellhole ready to-" Rei stopped herself immediately. I should have just stopped with poetic. Now he definitely thinks I'm looking for someone and from the looks of it, he might as well think I'm one of them.

"Mhmm. True." He walked closer to Rei, standing right next to her.

"A few days back a certain someone, a sort of a ghost from my past who I believe was rotting in the Gulag, escaped from there. Intel has it that he's one of Perseus'." He now said, looking at the tattered picture of Victor Kuzmin below the papers of the Gulag. Ah. So it was him who escaped.

Rei kept her expressionless facade on. On the inside, she was breaking and churning in fear and panic. She put on her innocent smile with big eyes. "Ah. How unfortunate. I hope you get him soon." Adler kept his steady glare at the girl, a scowl now forming. Sensing the tension, Rei's first instinct was to leave before she accidentally slipped something else, which will be interpreted as further something else by Adler.

"Uhm. It is late. I should get back to my apartment." She tried to slip away from Adler, but he caught her arm, his fingers deeply dug in her skin. The girl slightly winced in pain, looking up at the older man. "Hudson trusts you, but I don't. If I catch you stepping out of the line again, I will kill you."

The girl now put on her bitter face. When the hell did I step out of the line, asshole?! She couldn't stand his arrogance anymore. "And maybe you should try and keep your nose off my life." Never in a million years did she realise that she would regret the words that fell of her mouth. Fool! He's a fucking spy!

"You forget who I am Ivanov. I run the show here." His eyes glanced at the red necklace. Grabbing the pendant to his eye level, he looked back at her. "I won't be surprised if you turn out to be one of them. Advice: If you are, don't let me catch you."

Rei scoffed at the man. "And what, you're little threat is supposed to make my knees go all wobbly and make my lips quiver in fear?"

"They are already wobbly, Ivanov." This man's ego...

"Wobbly out of anger! And I would like to be called Rei if you please!" The girl darkly growled at him, earning a sharper glare from the man.

"Fucking brat," Adler muttered, letting the girl go. Once he was gone, she immediately rushed to the washroom nearby, locking it from the inside. Uncontrolled tears rolled down her eyes. Never had she been this intimidated by anyone in her life. And he is the guy I am supposed to work with. Thanks, Hudson.

Outside the safehouse, Adler lit up another cigarette.

"Weaver, I need you to look upon someone for me. Her name's Rei Ivanov. Also, see if you can find someone in the Gulag by the name 'Ivanov'."

"Alright. I will see what I can get, Adler." Adler ended his call. Looking back up at the skies, he tried to mentally chart a connection between Rei and Stitch, but he could make none.

"Who is she and who exactly is she searching for?" Adler ran a hand over his chin, deep in thought.

[bloody-bee-tea]

*handwaves* lets just pretend that nothing bad ever happens and the Wen Clan doesn’t even exist or something, so this is just some happy, tennage!nielan with no pain and suffering ahead of them. They will get their family, goddamit. @academieboheme and also this is my 200th fic in this fandom!​

Lan Xichen wakes up when he turns around and doesn’t meet a warm body in his bed. He reaches out, but only finds cold sheets, so in the end he has to pry open his eyes.

Nie Mingjue is gone from his bed.

Lan Xichen sighs as he pushes himself up, and gets out of the warm bed. He quickly reaches for the first robe he finds, throwing it over his shoulders before he realizes that it’s actually Nie Mingjue’s and that it’s way too big on him.

Lan Xichen doesn’t let that stop him, only snuggles further into the soft fabric, and then he goes to find his elusive boyfriend.

He finds him on the stairs of the hanshi, staring up at the sky, and Lan Xichen doesn’t hesitate to drape himself over Nie Mingjue’s back.

“What are you doing?” he asks as he puts his arms around Nie Mingjue’s neck and simply slumps against him, trusting Nie Mingjue to take his weight without problems.

“I can’t sleep,” Nie Mingjue admits lowly and reaches up to cup Lan Xichen’s forearm in his hand. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t,” Lan Xichen murmurs and slides around Nie Mingjue to sit on the step before him, so he can lean back against him.

Nie Mingjue immediately slings his arms around him.

“What kept you up?” Lan Xichen wants to know because there are a variety of possibilities. “Are you worried about Nie Huaisang again?”

“No,” Nie Mingjue softly gives back, even though worrying about his little brother is a constant state for Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen knows.

“Then what?” he gently prods and Nie Mingjue lets out a sigh, before he leans down and buries his face in Lan Xichen’s hair.

“It’s still so strange to see you without your forehead ribbon,” Nie Mingjue says instead of answering Lan Xichen’s question and Lan Xichen smiles when he looks down at Nie Mingjue’s arm.

He wrapped the forehead ribbon around it right before they went to sleep.

“Good strange or bad strange?” Lan Xichen wants to know, even though he knows the answer.

“The best kind of strange there is,” Nie Mingjue gives back and Lan Xichen’s smile widens.

“So this is not what’s keeping you up,” he teases Nie Mingjue who sighs again, but retreats far enough that he can rest his cheek on top of Lan Xichen’s head.

“No,” he admits. “It was just too quiet and my thoughts kept me up,” he then admits and Lan Xichen frowns.

“Do you want me to play for you?” Lan Xichen asks, because it’s no secret that Nie Mingjue finds the Cloud Recesses too silent for his taste. 

He’s used to people shouting and laughing, heavy work being done everywhere and he always takes a while to get used to the quiet in the Cloud Recesses. 

“No,” Nie Mingjue says again and tightens his grip on Lan Xichen. 

“What’s wrong?” Lan Xichen asks, voice a hoarse whisper because Nie Mingjue’s behaviour makes him worried.

“Do you ever think about our future?” Nie Mingjue asks him instead of answering and Lan Xichen nods.

“Of course I do,” he gives back.

“What do you see in our future?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and now Lan Xichen smiles.

“Us of course,” he immediately answers.

“Mh,” Nie Mingjue grunts and Lan Xichen chuckles with how reminiscent of Lan Wangji it is.

“Do you think we’ll ever get married?” Nie Mingjue whispers and now Lan Xichen turns around to him to cup his face in his hands.

“Oh, Mingjue, we already are,” he tells him. “This,” and he tugs on the forehead ribbon on Nie Mingjue’s arm, “means we are married. We might not have done the bows yet, but everyone from my Sect and everyone who studied here knows what it means. So when they see this, they know we belong to each other. And as soon as we can, we will take the bows, too.”

Instead of answering Lan Xichen Nie Mingjue leans in and brushes their lips together.

“What else, my soul?” Lan Xichen asks him when they part and he moves his fingers from Nie Mingjue’s brow down to his cheek, touch light as a feather.

“Will we ever live together?” Nie Mingjue asks next and Lan Xichen nods decisively.

“Yes. Yes, we will. I will come with you to Qinghe. My uncle already decided that Wangji will take over the Sect as soon as he’s old enough for it.”

“You should be the next Sect Leader,” Nie Mingjue protests and Lan Xichen sighs because this is an old argument between them.

Two Sect Leaders cannot be married. They both knew that when they started this and Lan Xichen was more than happy to pass that that title to his brother, who is also willing to take over.

“Mingjue, I love you. And it’s already decided. My uncle agreed. Wangji agreed. I agreed. I don’t want to be Sect Leader, if it means I can’t be with you.”

“I’m so sorry,” Nie Mingjue whispers and crushes Lan Xichen to his chest.

He returns the hug, but he also shakes his head.

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” Lan Xichen reminds him, because they have talked about this, in detail.

Nie Mingjue will not have Nie Huaisang take over the Sect, since he shows no desire to lead, and he doesn’t have someone else who would step in. It’s different for Lan Xichen, because Lan Qiren is still acting as a Sect Leader and Lan Wangji said he doesn’t mind, so of course it would be Lan Xichen who gave up his right as an heir.

And he doesn’t regret it one bit.

“You didn’t make me do it,” Lan Xichen reminds Nie Mingjue when he stays quiet for too long. “I wanted that, too, for us. And if that really is all I have to give up, then I would gladly do so over and over again,” Lan Xichen reassures him.

“Okay,” Nie Mingjue shakily says into Lan Xichen’s hair.

“What else?” Lan Xichen then asks, because he knows Nie Mingjue almost better than himself and he knows there’s still something else.

“This is like, even farther away than the other two,” Nie Mingjue starts and distracts himself by running his fingers through Lan Xichen’s hair.

Lan Xichen nods encouragingly to keep him talking.

“Do you ever think about kids?” Nie Mingjue asks him then, voice so low Lan Xichen can only hear him because they are so close to each other.

The question makes Lan Xichen pause for a moment, because he hadn’t before. But now—

“Yes,” Lan Xichen breathes out and vigorously nods his head. “I didn’t before, but yes, of course Mingjue, we’ll get at least two!” he decides then and there and Nie Mingjue smiles at him, the one smile Lan Xichen likes best, the one that puts his dimples on full display.

“At least,” Nie Mingjue agrees and kisses Lan Xichen sweetly again.

Lan Xichen turns back around in his arms to settle against his chest again, slinging Nie Mingjue’s arms around him, so he’s still tightly hugged.

“At least two,” Lan Xichen whispers again, and he can almost see it already; them older and in Qinghe, settled down, Nie Mingjue a sight to behold; fierce and good for his Sect and two little ones running around and calling them baba.

“I love you so much,” Nie Mingjue says into Lan Xichen’s hair and presses a kiss there, too, and then he puts his chin on Lan Xichen’s head.

Lan Xichen snuggles further into him, and then they just sit there for long moments. Eventually Lan Xichen starts to point out all the stars and starts telling Nie Mingjue about the different tales he knows about them, but his mind always goes back to the kids.

“They will be little Nie’s,” Lan Xichen whispers apropos of nothing, interrupting his own tale and he can hear how Nie Mingjue’s breath hitches.

“No,” he still disagrees. “One Nie and one Lan and then we can duel it out for the others,” Nie Mingjue decides and startles a laugh out of Lan Xichen.

“Okay,” he then agrees.

Lan Xichen never really thought about the future beyond the fact that Nie Mingjue will always be by his side, but he absolutely loves the future they are painting for themselves now.

“But only with you, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue tells him and Lan Xichen puts a hand on the arms around him.

“Of course only ever with you,” he agrees and it’s only then that Nie Mingjue loses the last bit of tension.

It will only always ever be them.

[Sleep Deprivation Sentence Starters]  

{Buy me a kofi}  

[yuna-dan]

1.-Soulmate au with Logince?

If you want a large Logince involving soulmates you can always read my fic Countin’ on you and one of my favorite Impossible Possible

Now that the selfless promo is over…

A long time ago I read a Marvel Fic where when Steve always had Natasha on his wrist and when he woke up from the ice, he had Antony and I was reading some prompts to get ideas and I saw something like that and decided to write it! This idea however it’s not mine, and if I find the fic where this was inspired, I’ll posted here.

I hope you enjoy this, I did enjoyed writing it but at some point I think the story got confusing?? I hope not

Taglist: @awkwardkindanerd @cas-is-a-hunter @theunoriginaldaisy @underthesea73 @mariita-2006 @prinxietyforever @peanut0303

If you wanna be add to the list please interact with this

---Warning: Off-screen bullying. Slight Transphobia. Slight Violence. Cursing.--

Logan was five years old when the tattoo appeared on his left wrist. The name Rosaline Prince was written with a blue and pink ink, with italics and a beautiful lettering for the young kid.

He remembered how when the bullies found him, he wasn’t scared because she will wait for me. When he arrived home and showed his mama his tattoo, his mama kissed his hair and said “She will always be there for you”

--

Logan used to have a treehouse, that he used to escape reality of his parents constant bickering and the bullies who never left him. He was fourteen, and he was too old to have one.

He was going to clean it for the last time, and he got boxes to put all his childhood things there, maybe one day I can show it to Rosaline he thought.

He didn’t see a step, and he fell.

He broke his arm.

The arm where Rosaline’s name was.

He didn’t think about it too much. The doctors have to put a cast on it, and he decided on a blue color (the same blue of his tattoo, that way he could think of Rosaline).

When the doctors removed the cast, the tattoo was heavily crossed out with a large, thick black line.

“What did you do?” He asked to the nurse, terrified.

The nurse was staring back at him, with the same shocked face, “I-That has never happened.”

No one had any explanation.

He cried to sleep that night.

--

The tattoo disappeared after three days.

Logan didn’t even move out of his bed.

-

He was in the school, when he felt a small itch on his right wrist. He didn’t want to pay any attention, because he was doing a test.

When he delivered the test and left the classroom, he noticed that he had a different tattoo, written in red and gold.

Roman Sanders

He felt something on his stomach, his chest tightened, and his vision blurred.

A student was passing by, and Logan didn’t think about he just knew, “Hey, I am going to passed out, call a teacher.”

“Dude, what the fuc-?”

He passed out.

-

When Logan woke up in the, the same student was next to him.

“Dude, you have to know that’s the weirdest way to meet someone.” He started ranting once he noticed Logan was awake, “What the actual fuck, man?” He hissed.

“Yes, I am okay, thanks for asking, stranger.” Logan replied, sitting down in the bed. The guy glared at him.

“I’m Virgil, by the way.”

“Salutations.” Virgil made a face, but Logan ignored him, “I am Logan.”

Virgil snorted, “You talk funny, Logan.” He cleared his throat, “So, uhm, are you okay? Do you want me to call someone?”

“No, I am fine… just…” Virgil stared at him, but Logan shook his head, “No, never mind, thanks for helping, Virgil.” He clutched his right arm close to his chest.

The tattoo was touching his heart.

--

Logan was seventeen when he came out as pansexual, and it turned okay.

Logan was eighteen, when he went started college with Virgil, his roommate and best friend ever since that day.

Logan was nineteen when he told Virgil about his two tattoos.

“... and honestly, I have been researching everywhere and I just cannot find any information about new soulmate bounds.”

“Maybe she died?” Virgil offered.

“Wow, Virge, thank I need that.” He glared, and his friend mumbled a quick sorry.

“I don’t what to say, Lo.”

“I want to hate Roman, and I know I should not feel like that. He’s supposed to be my soulmate, but I just need to know what happen to Rosaline.” He sighed.

Virgil genuinely didn’t know what to say, so he just hugged his friend.

Logan definitely didn’t cry.

--

Logan was on his last semester of college and he fell exhausted, with all the final exams, his parent obsessing over his graduation party, the freaking graduation party…

Yes, he fell exhausted.

He normally didn’t like to buy coffee, but when saw the new coffee shop near his apartment he decided to try it, firstly because Virgil was with his soulmate in their shared apartment.

He sighed and rubbed softly the name Roman on his right wrist. Ever since Virgil met Patton, he felt weirdly sad and also guilty for feeling sad. He should feel happy for his best friend, and yet, here he was running away from their house because he felt sad when he saw them together.

“Are you ordering, specs?” The cashier asked, interrupting Logan’s thoughts.

“Uh, yes, sorry.” He fumbled with his wallet, “A Black Earl with almond milk, please.” The man smiled and Logan felt himself blushing, for some reason. “Anything, else?”

“Uh, no, that’s fine.” Logan squinted, trying to read the tag, “Roman S.?”

Logan felt how the air of his lungs suddenly left, but the man continued to take his order, “What’s your name?”

“Huh?”

“For the tea…” Roman said, annoyed at the client. “We need your name.”

Logan spoke automatically, “You’re Rosie.” Roman’s face turned white, dropping the sharpie and cup he was holding.

“I don’t know who you are,” Roman Rosie said, “But you need to leave right now.”

“No, you…”

“No, my name is not Rosaline, my name is Roman Sanders and you need to leave, now!” He screamed, at the top of his lungs. Some clients were staring at them.

Logan didn’t want to leave, but the end he ran away.

-

When Remus entered the coffeeshop, he expected to see his twin and his boyfriend closing up. Ever since they left their dad’s house, Roman has been way happier. He started T a few months ago, and his mental health had been improving.

He was ready to pack everything off and go to home, maybe had some pizza.

He didn’t expect to see Damien and Roman sitting on a table, with a cup of tea, “I think Dad found us.” Was the first thing Roman said when he entered.

Damien was gripping his shoulder, “What do you mean?” Remus ears were ringing with anger, “Did he came here?”

Roman shook his head, and took a deep breath, “A man came. He called me… y’know, that.” He sighed, “I-I told him to leave and he, I don’t know.”

Damien interrupted, “I can take both of you to the police tomorrow.”

“No, mom will get worried.” Ro said, “I just want to forget about this.”

Remus bit his lip, “RoRo, I know but if you think Dad is back, we need to tell mom, and Damien is right, the police too.”

Roman shook his head, “No. I don’t want to.”

Remus was about to argue with his brother, because goddamit, he needed for Roman to understand that they were in danger, when the door opened violently and abruptly. Damien stood up, “We’re close, sir.”

Roman gasped, “It’s you!” He yelled, “I told you to leave me alone!” The man was getting closer and Remus hand was already on his phone, ready to call the police if necessary.

“No. Please let me…”

“If our dad sent you here…”

“No, please let me…”

Damien was standing between them, ready to fight if the moment asked for it Remus fucking love him, the man try to get closer, “Please, Roman, let me explain…”

Damien punched him, right in the eye. The guy was startled and looked back at Roman, who was holding back tears, “Roman, I’m your soulmate.”

The guy fainted.

---

Roman stared into Damien’s eyes, who was staring back at him. Remus wanted to laugh, really, but refrain himself from doing it, this was a serious moment and only a few minutes ago they all believed their lives were in danger, he shouldn’t really find this funny, not all...

Roman ran to check the guy’s pulse, and only then everyone realized the tattoo on his right wrist Roman Sanders.

“Oh my god Damien, you punched my soulmate!”

Remus laughed out loud.

--

When Logan woke up, he was in his apartment. He tried to sit up and winced when he felt pain on his back. He hissed in pain, “Yeah, sorry about that, Logan. No one knew you were going to faint and honesty, no one prevented you from hitting the floor.” Roman said.

“What?” Logan looked up and saw Roman his fucking soulmate in his living room.

“You really need to stop fainting when you meet important people, Logs.” Virgil was laughing between his sentence.

Logan groaned.

--

A few days later, when everything was explained I’m sorry I punched you, I thought my boyfriend’s asshole dad sent you and I’m sorry I called you by your deadname, but everything was confusing.

That was probably the weirdest way to find your soulmate, but they wouldn’t change it for the world.

--

They were in the coffee shop, Logan was waiting for Roman to close everything. They held hands when they walked to Logan’s apartment.

“Y’know…” Roman hummed in acknowledgment that he heard him, “It’s kinda funny.”

“What is?”

“I got your right name in the right wrist…” Logan laughed softly, “It’s almost as if the world knew about it and decided to play a pun.”

Roman laughed, “It is funny.”When they kissed that night, it felt fight, and it was fantastic.

[the-creative-lie]

Quarantined

pairings: steve rogers x reader; nat x bucky if you squint

genre/warnings: the fluffiest fluff

word count: 2.3k

summary:  Steve and the reader are quarantined together and dancing around their feelings for each other, so Buck and Nat decide to take matters into their own hands.

notes: based on an ao3 request. we could all use a little steve love right now lol

 “This is the fourth time I’ve found you like this,” you hear Steve say. Honestly, how does he manage to be cute even upside down? From this angle, his disapproving frown almost seems like a smiley face.  Oh right, upside down. You’ve been laying on the couch, legs up, head dangling over the ground, for the past twenty minutes or so. You are certain your face is ruby red right now and you’re starting to feel a little bit dizzy, but the whole world is on quarantine goddamit, and you’re bored.

 “I heard sending a bunch of blood to your brain is supposed to make you smarter,” you justify, coming out of your not-so-comfortable posture and laying your now throbbing head on the armrest of the couch. He sits on the other end, lifting your legs and putting them back down on top of his knees.

 “And who exactly told you that?” he asks amused.  You look away, rolling your eyes at your own stupidity. “Bucky,” you mumble.

 “And you believed him?”

 “No. Well, yeah. But I’m not smart, that’s why I was doing this in the first place! That was the whole point!”

 “Seriously, Y/N. It doesn’t work.”

 “How do you know? You’re not smart either!” you protest. His nose wrinkles and his mouth forms a perfect O.

 “Excuse you?” he exclaims, pretending to be offended.

 You smirk. “I said what I said, Rogers.”

  His eyes twinkle with mischief and you frown, confused. Before you can ask him what the hell is going on in that blonde head of his, he grabs your legs and throws you off the couch. You groan from the floor and send him a glare. He giggles. Captain America giggled. And he looks so pretty when he does that. It’s kind of unfair.

 “I’m going to try to clean out my closet for like, the seventh time this week,” you huff “Feel free to come help me, if you’re bored.”

 “Sure. I’ll be right there,” he smiles, as he watches you leave for your room.

 From the kitchen, Bucky Barnes just stares in utter disbelief as his best friend sits on the couch with the goofiest grin plastered on his face, looking at the empty spot you just left beside him. He can tell Steve is head over heels for you, and Nat has already told him about your huge crush on him. He can put two and two together, but apparently you lovebird idiots can’t, because you’ve been dancing around each other since the quarantine started. And he’s starting to get bored too. So, he does the only thing that could make this lockdown more interesting and gives himself a mission. Well, him and Nat. There’s no way he’s doing any of this without her help.

                                   **********************************

 “I can’t believe you still have this,” Steve laughs, as he unfolds an old t-shirt that was rolled into a ball in the back of your closet. It’s a very old shirt, and to be fair, you bought it as a joke. It sports a very discolored picture of his shield on the front.

 You snort. “I just wear it to bed sometimes. It turned out to be incredibly comfy.” That’s totally true. I mean, yeah, it could also be the fact that it reminds you of him, but no. No, definitely the levels of comfort the t-shirt provides are what drove you to grab it in those five minutes when you packed as fast as possible before leaving the Avengers Tower for good, when the Accords mess was in full swing and when you decided to follow Steve Rogers to the end of the world and back.   It’s been a few months since that, and yeah, you are fugitives now, but honestly? It’s not so bad. You, Steve, Bucky and Nat got yourselves a small house on the mountains for the time being. You’re near a small town that you go to when you need supplies. Truth be told, it wasn’t like you’d go out a lot before the quarantine started, trying not to show your faces too much and all that, but you could still go for a walk, buy dinner somewhere. But isolation hits differently when it’s not by choice.

 “I still don’t get why you bought it though.” He places down the t-shirt and takes a sip off his mug. Currently you are both sitting on the ground, in your room, drinking coffee and laughing at your poor fashion sense. Hey, a lady can only do so much when running away from the law okay?

 “I just thought it’d be funny,” you say, folding some jeans and starting to make a pile. “Also the lady at the store didn’t recognize me at first, and that was hilarious. I got to pretend to be one of your fangirls, remember?”

 His face goes red and he covers it with his hand, embarrassed. “Of course I remember. I was there. You asked for a selfie with me and started to fake cry. ”

 “HA. I forgot about that part.”

 “I remain impressed by the fact that you can cry on command, by the way. ”

 “What can I say, Stevie? I’m an actor,” you say theatrically, standing up and bowing as if on stage. Steve starts clapping and wooing.

 “Then I’m your number one fan,” he replies. You stare at him, stammering for a moment before regaining composure. You two are always doing this, even more so now that you are forced to spend basically 24/7 together. You flirt, he flirts back, someone blushes. He says an amazing one liner; you’re left with your heart racing and your stomach doing flips. But it’s just friendly banter, right? It’s just the fact that you’re locked up together and that the only two other humans you guys see on a daily basis are Russian assassins.  Speaking of Russian assassins, your train of thought gets interrupted by Nat screaming from the living room that her and Bucky are about to facetime with Sam and that you two should get your tushies to the couch.  Yeah, she actually said tushies. Isolation is doing things to her.

 “Sam, babe, how you doin’?” You shout, climbing over Bucky to get the good spot on the couch. He bats a hand at you, annoyed, and you stick out your tongue at him. He sucker punches you in the arm but just when you’re about to pull his hair, Steve easily lifts you up like you’re made of paper and scoots you away from Buck. Sometimes you forget how strong he actually is.

 “Behave, children. Uncle Sam is on the FaceTime.” You lock eyes with Nat and you both let out a laugh.

 “THE FaceTime?” you ask, giggling.

 Steve frowns, confused. “Isn’t it called the FaceTime? That’s what you said last time.”

 “It’s just FaceTime, Steve. No the,” Nat corrects him.

 “Man, c’mon. We talked about this, Rogers. You did the same thing with the Google and it drove me crazy for like a month,” Sam chimes in from the screen.

 “Yeah, Steve. Get with the times, old man.”

 “Buck, we’re the same age.”

 “Yeah, but I’m hip and modern.”

  You roll your eyes. “The fact that the words hip and modern just left your mouth disqualifies you immediately, Barnes.”

 He huffs and returns his attention to Sam. “How about you, Birdman? How you holding up?”

 “Things are pretty chill, I guess. I’m using the FaceTime to have online meetings with the therapy groups. It’s not the same, and of course we’d wish we could have a more personal contact as usual, but we’re doing what we can, you know. Trying to get used to the new normal.”

 “Is the FaceTime going to be a thing now?” Steve groans, “Fuck, this one’s sticking right? I’m gonna regret it?”

 “Language,” you say, trying not to laugh. He just glares at you.

 Sam is, thankfully, not a fugitive. The government considered (after a few pulled strings and a trending hashtag on the Twitter) that he could be pardoned of his crimes, based on the fact that he did a lot of important work on the community; and that his participation on the whole Accords debacle wasn’t so big, and therefore, could be swept under the rug.  You four, on the other hand, were not as lucky. After all, here you are, aren’t you? In the middle of Germany, or Canada, or who knows at this point.

 “Anyways, guys, I just wanted to check on you. Y’all know this things can’t last very much or you risk exposure. I’m glad you’re all okay, and I’ll try calling again as soon as I can without raising suspicion. Take care!"

 A chorus of goodbyes and take cares erupts from the couch, and the screen turns black.

 You get up, stretching your back. “Well, I’m gonna take a shower. If you guys are hungry just have dinner without me, I’ll have something later,” you state, heading to the bathroom you all share.

 The only problem with you leaving is that Steve is now left alone between two giddy assassins, who both look at him like they’re Cheshire cats. Frankly, it’s terrifying.

 Steve gulps, considering running and risking his life by breaking the quarantine instead of dying here on this couch, because he already knows what’s coming. Every time you’re gone and the three of them are alone, the conversation always shifts to…

 “So, Y/N huh?”

 “Smooth, Buck.”

 “You’re the talker, woman, you do the talking!”

 “And what are you supposed to be?”

 “I’m the muscle. In case he tries to run away.”

 Oh no, there goes his only plan. Poor Steve.

 Natasha turns to him and stares him down, “Rogers, when are you going to tell that woman you’re in love with her?”

 “We- I- huh. Whenever I have time.”

 “You’re on goddamn quarantine. There’s nothing but time.”

 “Yeah. Loads of time.”

 “Seriously, if only you removed your head from your tushie for a little bit you would see she clearly feels the same.”

 “That’s right. Head, tush. That’s a no-no.”

 “This is your chance, Rogers. Y/N’s super stressed out with the locked down, she’s practically climbing up the walls. Do something nice for her, and tell her how you feel.”

 “Be a gentleman, yo.”

 “Barnes I thought we agreed I’d do the talking.”

 “Alright, damn. I was just trying to help. Also what is it with you saying tushie now? ”

 “IT’S A QUARANTINE THING!”

 Before things could get any further (or worse, for all that matters), Steve stands up and shuts both super spies up, “Okay, fine. I’ll do it. You’re right. Just, huh. Go to your rooms, please? I need to think.”

 Natasha smirks at him, “Sure thing, dad. Come on, James, let’s go watch some crap TV show in my room.”

 Steve looks around, panicked. And then he has an idea.

                              *********************************************

 After getting out of the shower and putting on some fuzzy pajamas and, why not, the infamous Captain America t-shirt, you head to the kitchen in search for some late night dinner slash snack. The lights seem to be out, so you assume the gang already ate and went to bed. But what surprises you when you get to the living room is the tiny table where you usually have breakfast, simply adorned with a white tablecloth and one of those crappy candles you guys keep in the bottom drawer in case there’s a blackout.  And standing next to it all, in his own fuzzy pajamas, is Steven Grant Rogers, looking like he’s about to pass out but still standing, and holding a piece of paper.

 “Steve? What’s all this?”

 He just starts to ramble, “Okay so. Huh. I’ve been trying to say something to you for quite a while now. And lately the voices in my head, that sound a lot like Bucky and Nat by the way, would not shut up about it. And I just thought, you know what? We’re on a goddamn quarantine. The world apparently has its own plans, and does whatever it wants, it’s not gonna wait for me. So fuck it. I’m saying it.”

 “Saying what?” you breathe out, heart pounding on your chest.

 “I’m in love with you, Y/N,” he smiled softly, raising his eyebrows as if to say and I guess there’s nothing I can do about it.

 You’re speechless. He stares at you and starts panicking, “Oh God. Huh, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I- This was all so stupid, and I just put you on the spot and- oh no, now you’re trapped with me because of the quarantine. I’m so sorry, I’ll just stay locked in my room so you won’t have to see me and Bucky can just pass me some crackers through the door-”.

 You cut his rambling, “Steve. It’s okay.”

 “No, it’s not, I shouldn’t have listened to them-”

 “Steve, I’m in love with you too.”

 He looks up at you like a deer in headlights, “You are?”

 “Yeah,” you shrug, smiling.

 He frowns, “Why?”

 “Must be all that blood going to my head, ” you close the distance between you two and wrap your arms around his neck, “Guess it just made me dumber.”

 “I’ll have to thank Bucky for that.”

 “Could you stop talking about Barnes and kiss me already?” he laughs and leans down to kiss you, sweet and gentle, and suddenly everything makes sense.

 You separate a little, arms still around him and look around.

 “What’s all this?”

 “Well I was going to ask you out, but because of the quarantine we can’t really go out,” he explains, sheepish, “So I thought we could go in, you know?” He lets go of you and points at a plate on the table, “Also, we´re having sandwiches for dinner because we haven’t gone on the supply run yet. And since I can’t buy you flowers- ”, he hands you the piece of paper, a bouquet of wild flowers beautifully drawn.

 “Steve, these are so pretty. This is perfect, it’s all perfect,” you beam.

 He brings out a chair for you, “Shall we?”

 You laugh. Maybe quarantine is not that bad.

[scratchbandicoot]

Based on this lovely lil thing

He swears on all the comedy shows he’s ever watched, this would be the exact moment where things would freeze frame, record scratch, and insert corny line, like, “Hi, I’m Steve, you’re probably wondering how i got here-“

And normally, in a situation like this one, it wouldn’t at all be the case. Baking is like, a seriously mundane thing a lot of people do. Mostly housewives, grandmas or kids with their parents but it just so happens that Steve is the one doing the baking right now- and it should have gone without a hitch. So, 20 minutes of digging into the cabinets of his mom’s cook books- he began. He wanted it to be good, not a cop out box of mix because making it from scratch makes it more special. And it’s a fucking cake; how hard could it really be?

Apparently super fucking hard actually. Because what should have been a completely mundane, simple task that takes like 40 minutes tops- Steve was left with this. Referring to the absolute disaster that is his kitchen. There’s like, 8 eggshells scattered all over the countertop- one somehow ending up on the floor and another on his knee. There is a spilling bag of sugar on its side creating a hectic little pile that leaks onto the stove top- (Thank god for his parents expensive ass glass-top stoves.) Somehow he managed to spill olive oil around the sink when the recipe doesn’t even call for it- and to top it all off there is flour covering every inch of the kitchen and himself. The apron he has on does absolutely nothing, the powder covering his pastel blue cashmere button up- and he’s sure he somehow managed to get flour on places where the sun don’t shine. He’s three hours 45 minutes deep at this point and he knows he’s literally about to cry. He can feel his eyes burning with frustration and a huge lump tightening his throat with the threat of unshed tears. How did he get to this point? Well, lets backtrack.

It’s Billy’s birthday tomorrow . Steve has always done something special on Billy’s birthdays- even though he is like, super weird about gifts and being given things. Seriously, last time Steve gave Billy just a dumb little birthday card with snoopy dancing, and text that read ‘a big-smiling, fun-having, great-feeling birthday’- his nose srunched up like he had to sneeze and he gave the most awkward thanks followed by a back pat that- felt so absolutely “hiya pal” that Steve cackled out loud to the point he was in tears. Billy just burned red and sputtered all irritated, “Stop fucking laughing, Harrington.” Guy just cannot handle shows of affection.

This though, was a little more special. A little more personal than a rinky-dink peanuts birthday card- because billy really loved confetti cake. It brought back memories of his mom; how they used to bake the cake together on his younger birthdays, and how much he really missed it. Nothing could really beat the warmth of those memories, or the fondness painting Billy’s face when he recalled them- but goddamit- steve was gonna try, was trying, his actual best. He even convinced Keith that he’d take his next Saturday shift if he let him off the hook today to do this. His nonna had baked with him when he was young-like, 6- so he figured he’d pick it back up. Which was so not the case here. It’s safe to say he is more than a little rusty. So rusty in fact, that his old bike that he got for his 12th birthday that sits in the garage decaying and untouched, had absolutely nothing on him right now.

The first try was peppy; with a shimmy of hips and a waving whisk to the song playing from the sound system in the living room, and Steve thought genuinely that he did it right. He might have, maybe, with the recipe, but the lump of coal that was pulled out of the oven indicated heavily to the opposite. The smoke in the kitchen made Steve cough and gag, having to open up all the windows along with the screen door. The second attempt was a different outcome. Terrible, but different. A cake with singed edges and a liquidy inside that stuck to the pan and got scraped out with an uncermonious plop into the garbage. Mush, really, something akin to the texture of apple sauce. The third attempt Steve really focused, he swears, but that just ended up with a cake that didnt even rise and he was back to square 1 before he knew it with a beautifully new sense of defeat.

So, before he had an actual mental break over a goddamn cake he knew 7 year olds could make better, he called up Ms. Henderson for help. The lady is practically a god when it comes to baking and he really does not know how she does it. Whips out cookies and tarts and cupcakes like it’s going out of style.

“Hmm...oh! Sweetie, I think it might be the cornstarch. It sinks to the bottom of the pan if you don’t add baking soda- did you add baking soda?”

Steve glances at the forgotten unopened box of baking soda leaned against the stoves backsplash. He slaps himself mentally.

“Um, no. No i did not do that.”

“Well then, that’s it! You simply forgot a key ingredient is all. Not a big deal in the slightest.” Ms. Henderson was always very sweet to steve. Maybe because Dustin had become a little brother to him, but she never ever made him feel dumb. Always assured him mistakes are simply human.

“Right, right, yeah. I’ll add that. Thank you Ms. Henderson.” Steve goes to run a hand through his hair but is met with the headband pulling Steve’s hair from his eyes.

“Its Claudia sweetie, you know that.” Steve could hear the smile in her voice. She makes him feel better.

She gave a few more tips, how just white sugar might dry out the cake when used too much and using brown sugar will make the cake’s texture fluffier. He thanks her and hangs up with a sigh. Back to work.

He follows each step meticulously, following Claudia’s directions to a T and slips it into the oven; prays to god that this will be the last time he tries this. He’s only got one egg left and the overly sweet assortment of smells is starting to make him nauseous. After 45 excruciating minutes, Steve huffs and pulls out the cake. It looks... actually it looks like a cake. He smiles crookedly- holding his breath as he slips the cake onto the tray. It comes out in one piece, albeit lopsided, Steve whoops. He finally fucking did it- the cake actually looks like a confetti cake- and Steve is just so fucking proud of it, already going in to make the frosting before theres a ring at the door.

He frowns, wiping the flour on his watch head. It’s midnight- 12:07 am. Jesus christ, he started this at 7 pm, he didn’t even realize-

He hurries up to the door trying to wipe off the flour and make himself semi presentable. The door swings open and it’s Billy. He’s holding a six pack of Natural Light and a smirk that warps into a surprised raise of his eyebrows at Steve’s current state. He’s sure he must like he just ran a drug cartel or something.

“Hi, pretty boy.” Billy says as he walks in, checking Steve up and down. “Whats uh, whats up with your threads? Look like you jumped head first into coke or got real personal with Frosty the Snowman”

Stve rolls his eyes. His breath catches when he sees Billy start walking to the kitchen. He runs and blocks Billy in the doorway.

“You can’t go in there.”

Billy frowns, “What, you actually got drugs in there or somethin’?”

“No- you just- you can’t go in there. Not allowed.”

“Cmon baby whatcha got in there?” Billy starts to nudge past him; never was good at waiting.

“Wait, no- Billy- don’t-“

Billy takes in the state of the kitchen with a confused look and low whistle before his eyes land on the unfrosted confetti cake sitting on the kitchen island in all it’s lopsided glory. He freezes.

Steve waddles up behind him; following his gaze as he chews on his lip.

“I’m sorry, didn’t have time to make the frosting. Wanted it to be a surprise.” Steve scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly.

Billy’s still just standing there, and for a moment Steve is afraid he overstepped. That he was hijacking a moment from Billy’s mom that was only okay to do if she did it. He tries to get a read on Billy from his side profile since Billy is only turned slightly towards him but he can’t. A few more seconds of Billy standing there- and what Steve hopes is stunned silence- before Billy quietly murmurs,

“You made me a confetti cake?”

Steve holds his breath after a strained little, “Yeah.” The unshed tears from earlier are threatening to fall again, “You said you loved confetti cake, and that it made you happy. Wanted to make you happy.”

Billy spins on his heel fast, catching Steve’s face in his hands and lips with his own. Steve’s heart bursts and jerks a little with the surprise. It’s a chaste thing, just a press of lips, before Billy pulls away.

“You’re so... you just...” Billy trailed off and it was, like, a huge thing for Steve in that moment. Billy? Speechless? Steve never thought he’d see the day. It makes his face heat but his heart full and he beams.

“I’m... what?” He draws out.

“Fuckin’- somethin’. You’re somethin’ else.” Billy tugs him in by the waist and uses the other hand to swipe at the flour on Steve’s cheek. He looks so goddamn fond it makes Steve’s heart rate skyrocket.

“Is it okay?”

Billy hums, “It’s so okay. So much better than okay.”

He presses sweet little kisses to Steve’s lips and Steve can’t stop smiling.

“Well,” he says between pecks, “I wanted to do something special.”

Billy hums again, kisses trailing pepper like to his cheeks, his forehead, his nose and now down his neck.

Steve fights down the urge to shiver as he wraps his arms around the other’s shoulders. But-then he feels a wetness at the crook of his neck and makes a soft concerned noise at the back off his throat. He tugs Billy gently off and is met with blue, glassy eyes. Billy was tearing up.

“Thank you.” Billy says wetly, gently, before hugging Steve tight. “God- i- thank you.”

Steve smiles sweetly, hands going into Billy’s hair. He doesn’t ask because he doesn’t need to. Knows that this is Billy being happy, knows that this isn’t bad, knows Billy. Loves Billy.

Steve pokes Billy’s sides- grins, “Happy birthday, baby.” And punctuates it with a kiss.

[mysticsitcom]

A fic inspired by an ask?

You bet.

Featuring @marshmallowprotection’s OC Bora Kim.

“Gnight Mom.”

Morgan froze, her eyes opening wide as she stared down at Bora.

“Bora.” she whispered. “Bora, hey, what did you say?”

Bora let out a quiet snore.

Morgan paused, and swallowed. She adjusted Boras blanket, hands shaking, and left the teens room.

Mom...

She had never been called that before. And when was the last time she had called someone that?

It had been years.

And now this spunky teen crashed into her life. Bora was almost immediately taken in by Jumin, and Morgan, well,

She wasn’t ready.

But nevertheless, Morgan did her best to help out Bora. She didn’t think much of it. Bora was a teenager in need, like she had been at fifteen. It was natural that she would attempt to help Bora, however awkward her attempts were.

Morgan had never expected to become so... attached to the teen, though. She worried about Bora and smiled when the teen was happy.

But now... Mom.

Morgan was used to titles. But this was one title that she had never ever expected to have.

“Morgan? Dear, are you alright?”

Morgan looked up at Jumin. She nodded shakily, pushing past him, then paused, whirling back around to her boyfriend.

“Am I Boras mom?”

He frowned, looking confused. “I believe so? I’m her father, and we’re together...”

His voice trailed off as Morgan’s face paled. Her hands gripped his jacket, breaths coming out shaky.

“B-but, Im not her birth mother...”

“And I’m not her biological father, but I’m her father nonetheless.” Jumin said softly. “Morgan, what’s wrong? You look sick.”

She let go of his jacket, yanking the penthouse door open. “I... I’m fine. Just tired. G-good night Jumin.”

Morgan sprinted to her car, driving quickly. She drove for a good hour, trying to calm herself down.

What was wrong with her? She had faced bombs, ambushes, poisoning and so much more. But this, this title...

She wasn’t sure whether to cry, throw up, scream... or feel happy.

The last option scared her the most.

Morgan parked in a field, gasping for breath.

God, everything was jumbled up in her head like a hurricane of emotions.

Fear, sadness, joy, love, anger, bitterness, more fear, hope...

Morgan threw back her head, letting out a scream. It made her feel a bit better, she supposed. But her head was still aching.

She lay her forehead on her steering wheel, closing her eyes. “Mama... why did you die... goddamit...”

Morgan lifted her head, leaning back into her seat. “I don’t know what to do. God... I don’t know how to be a mom. I can’t even make a decent lunch for fucks sake!”

She pulled out her phone to call Eliza, and froze. Her homescreen...

Jumin, Eliza,Tasse, herself, and.. Bora. Bora was in the front. And Tasse stood in the back, their signature faint smile on their face.

Morgan sighed and called Eliza, who picked up immediately.

“Hey honey! I was just about to go to sleep. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. Go to sleep.” Morgan mumbled.

Elizas voice sharpened. “No. What’s wrong?”

She sighed, rubbing her temple. “Um. Well, you know that Jumin and I are together. And Jumin adopted Bora?”

“Yeah?”

“Well...”

She paused, closing her eyes. Ugh, why was this so hard?

“Well?” Eliza echoed. “Morgan, you okay?”

“No. No, I’m not.”

“Well, are you asking about Bora?” Oh god, she didn’t get her period today? Did she bleed through the sheets again?” Eliza yelped. “Morgan I told you, hand wash them and show Bora and-”

“No!” Morgan yelped. “No, no that’s not why I called. She’s stocked up on tampons and pads, don’t worry. She forgot them so I grabbed them yesterday.”

Eliza giggled. “Alright, that’s good. Then what is it?”

Morgan swallowed. “Well, um... do you think I’m Boras mom?”

There was a pause. Morgan could almost see Eliza frowning as she thought.

“Morgan, that’s not for me to say.” Eliza hummed thoughtfully. “That’s Boras choice. If she sees you as her mother-”

“Eliza, she called me mom!” Morgan burst out. “That’s why I’m calling. I don’t know how to feel and-”

“Morgan.” Eliza said sharply. “Deep breaths honey, you need to breathe.”

Morgan squeezed her eyes shut tightly, exhaling slowly. Yeah, she could breathe.

“Better?”

“...yeah.”

“Alright, that’s good honey.” Eliza chuckled. “And about your question, I think that’s something you should talk to Bora about.”

“Eliza.”

“I think that you’ve been acting as her mom, yes. But you need to talk with Bora if you want this straightened out.”

“I...” Morgan looked up at the night sky, hands shaking. “I don’t think I’m ready for that title...”

“And that’s perfectly fine.” her girlfriend hummed. “Just let Bora know, and she’ll understand.”

“But...”

“No buts Morgan. You need to communicate with her, okay?”

Morgan sighed. “Alright, I will... Good night Eliza, love you...”

“Gnight honey. Love you too.”

The phone call ended with a quiet click, and Morgan leaned against her car seat, rubbing her eyes.

Communicate to Bora... ha.

She could barely communicate with herself, what the hell was she supposed to say to the teen?

“Goddamit Mama...” Morgan groaned. “How the fuck am I supposed to handle this?”

It was a question she’d think about in the morning. After coffee.

Three days had passed.

Morgan has kept away from Bora, and Jumin for the matter.

Did the distance help? No.

Was she going to continue doing it?

Probably.

“Oh, hey...”

Morgan jumped, her eyes wide. “Holy shit Bora! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Bora winced, stepping back. “Sorry...”

An awkward silence hung between them. Bora kept her head down, like when she first came to the penthouse.

“So... are you looking for your headphones?” Bora mumbled. “They’re on the couch I think.”

“Oh... yeah, thanks.” Morgan responded hastily.

She nearly sprinted into the living room, not knowing what to say, and wanting to leave as soon as she could.

She had one hand on the doorknob when Bora spoke up.

“Did I piss you off? Did I do or say something wrong again?”

Morgan flinched. “No, no, you’re fine.”

“Liar...”

She winced, but didn’t bother saying anything in response. Bora stood still for a moment, then started to leave.

“Bora.”

The teen paused, turning back slightly.

“Why the hell did you call me mom?”

She flinched, and Morgan suddenly realized her question was more of a verbal attack.

An accusation, filled with anger.

“Sorry...” Morgan muttered. “I just- I don’t know why you called me mom. Could you please tell me why?”

Bora frowned. “Well, you’ve been my mom. I mean, you’re dating Dad, but you’ve been my mom so...”

Morgan didn’t answer, turning Boras reply over in her head.

“I won’t call you mom if you don’t like it!” Bora yelped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No. No, it’s just-”

Morgan’s tongue felt like cement again, hands suddenly shaking.

A mom? She had been Boras mom?

What- How-

“I’m not your mom... like, I didn’t give birth to you and-”

“Dad isn’t my biological ‘father’,” Bora interrupted. “But he sure as hell is my dad.”

“But...”

Her voice trailed off, and Morgan looked at Bora, swallowing.

“I’m not... I’m not mom material...”

“What do you mean?” Bora frowned. “I don’t get it. You’ve been-”

Everything suddenly came pouring out.

“Bora, for fucks sake! Just look at me! Purple hair, tight tops, lots of piercings,” Morgan cried. “And I’m brash and blunt and sarcastic. I swear all the time and have the stupidest laugh and I’m not a good example for you.”

She shook her head frantically. “I can’t cook, I don’t even know how to pack a lunch! And I yell and rage at little things and that’s not good for you to see! And I talk about violence all the time and watch gorey things that you shouldn’t watch with me but you do and-”

Her voice cut off, and she let out a hoarse sob, suddenly aware of the tears building in her eyes.

“I’m not...”

“Are you done?” Bora asked.

She nodded slowly. “Yeah and-”

“Okay, first of all!” Bora said sharply. “It doesn’t matter what you look like. That has no value in being a parent. Second, I think you look badass and I don’t want you to change.”

She stepped towards Morgan. “And yeah, you’re sarcastic and swear a lot, but that’s okay. It’s just you, and there’s nothing wrong with that!

You talk about gorey stuff and watch gorey things because that’s just a part of your job. And you teach me about anatomy while we’re watching, so I say it’s educational! And you don’t need to know how to pack a lunch, Dad has the cook make me lunch, and we both know that!”

“Bora...”

“No, I’m not done!” Bora snapped, holding up her finger.

“You know how you’re being my mom? Because you’re there. You come to my school to pick me up, enduring all those awful remarks about you. And then you ask me about my day, and help me with my homework.”

Bora paused. “And then when I get bullied you step in, even when I tell you not to! You take care of it and then you make sure I’m okay.”

Morgan opened her mouth, but Bora glared at her.

“I said I’m not done!”

The teens voice cracked slightly.

“And you comfort me when I’m feeling down. You go to all those parent teacher conferences and you don’t take the teachers shit and set them straight. And you stand up for me and always take my side unless I really messed up.”

“And you ignore your touch aversion and give me a hug when you know I need one. You listen to my day and my interests and then help me improve and show me techniques because you researched them even though I never asked you to.”

She stopped again, and Morgan froze seeing the tears in her eyes.

“Bora, don’t cry.”

Almost instinctively, she went to Bora, frowning in concern.

“Come on, don’t cry...”

Bora let out a little hiccuping laugh. “See! Even now you don’t want me to be sad. And I’m not even really sad! This is what a mom does, Morgan. This is what a mom does...”

“But-”

“No buts! You acting like my mom without even realizing it!”

She wiped the tears away, grinning. “You’ve been acting as my mom, and that’s why I called you mom. If you don’t want me to call you mom, you could’ve just told me!”

Morgan flushed in embarrassment. “I- Okay, fine. Look, I just got scared. Just.. how about you just call me Morgan, okay?”

Bora nodded. “I can do that!”

She paused. “Uh... are you crying?”

Morgan blinked, touching her face. “Oh. Guess I am.”

She grinned. “You made me cry Bora. How dare you!”

“Hey, those are your tear ducts that are acting up!” Bora gasped. “Don’t blame me!”

Morgan laughed. “Alright, fair enough.”

She wiped the tears from her face, smiling softly. “Alright, I’m glad we cleared that up.”

“You just had to ghost us for three days though!” Bora pouted. “How dare you.”

She laughed again, shaking her head fondly at the teen. “Heh, sorry. I won’t do that again, I promise.”

“You could pay me back with ice cream.” Bora quipped.

“Now youre just being opportunistic!”

“Yes I am!”

“Alright though, ice cream sounds good.” Morgan chuckled. “I’ll get my keys.”

“Thanks Mom. Ack-” Bora yelped.

Morgan paused, and smiled. “That’s alright kiddo.”

She snatched her keys and grinned. “First one to the car gets a double scoop.”

Bora was already sprinting.

“Cheater!” Morgan laughed, running after her.

“You’re just slow Mom! You’re just slow!”

Mom...

You know what?

She could get used to that title.

[irrevocably-delicious]

Hey what’s up, that HTTYD 3 poster got me fucked up

So this official poster has been released for How To Train Your Dragon 3 and it has left me with... opinions. 

My first initial reaction was excitement! Oh hell yeah HTTYD 3 is coming out! I adored the first two! But then i saw...

SIIIIIGGGGGGGHHHHHHH I knew immediately that this was most likely a female night fury and fuck yeah shit fuck it is which is so disappointing. I could write a huge essay on how female characters are portrayed in media. I could write a massive blog about smurfette syndrome and how female characters are always just a pink, soft version of their male counterparts, or how female animal or anthro characters still have to fall into society’s beauty standards so we do crazy things like give ducks tits or large eyelashes. 

I COULD talk about why these things occur, and how this is a worrying reflection of how society views human females, that males are the default and females are the other... but I’m not going to do that TODAY.

Hi my name is India and not only do I have an animation degree, but I also have a degree in animal and veterinary science.

This design doesn’t just insult me as an animator. This design insults me as a scientist. 

Let’s begin. 

So if you asked me to design a female night fury for the poster, this is what I would have come up with:

Because from a superficial perspective? I would not expect that there would be an obvious difference between males and females. Night fury’s obviously take a lot of design influence from axolotls, who you can only sex by examining their cloacas. Many species of lizards must also have their sexual organs examined for reliable sexing, because colour and size variation in many species are not a reliable way to tell the difference between males and females. 

Someone paint this girl’s nails pink! Otherwise HOW WILL I KNOW?

But I digress that sexual dimorphism exists, and from an animation perspective, you need variation in the character design so people can tell your characters apart. Kids need to want BOTH toys goddamit.

Sexual dimorphism is most obvious and famous in many bird species. In birds of prey, particularly your fast birds of prey such as raptors, your females will be much larger than males. Colour variation in birds (and some reptiles) also occurs. But it is the MALE that is the most colourful and “beautiful” in order to attract their mate. Females are often shades of grey/brown and definitely not a colour that would make them an easy target in their environment.

The female peahen is a basic bitch.

So keeping these size variations and natural colour variations in mind, here’s another suggestion I might offer:

She’s larger! She’s a different colour! Toothless is the sleek, deep black almost blue colour, while she is more in that grey/brown area. I can totally tell the difference.

“But India!” I hear your protests. “Why can’t she be white?! You can have dramatically different coloured male and females in the natural world. Have you heard of eclectus parrots?”

And I would say “Yes! Yes I obviously fucking have! Of course I have heard of the eclectus parrots, who when they were first discovered, people thought they were two different species and kept wondering why they weren’t breeding when they put all the green parrots together and all the red ones together. I’ve course of fucking heard of eclectus parrots you wet petri dish!”

But here’s the thing about eclectus parrots. They live in the rainforest, so while they are different colours, there is still an element of camouflage to this colouring. The female blends into the green treetops and the male looks a lot like a delicious fruit. 

A white night fury... just doesn’t make sense? Judging by when we first meet toothless, and my bullshit knowledge of fictional dragon behaviour, it’s fair to assume that night furys hunt at night. Toothless is so dark that he is almost impossible to see in the night sky. This is where the tension comes from when Hiccup first encounters the night fury. He just sees blue flame and not the dragon itself, because it is so difficult to make him out against the dark sky. 

This female night fury would be shot down so quick. She would stick out terribly at night. She wouldn’t catch shit. All the sheep in the field would be like “Oh fuck, I can see Phyllis two miles away. We all better shuffle into the barn.” There’s a reason albino animals are so rare in the wild. They just stick out too much and often get eaten. 

“But what if female’s hunt during the day? Wouldn’t being white help them blend in with clouds and the bright sky?” 

THEN WHEN WOULD THEY FUCK? Would males and females just pass each other at sunset like fated star lovers? That’s stupid. That doesn’t make sense. This isn’t Ladyhawke. 

But I’ll humour you. Yes, yes, we see white birds all the time. And you’re right! That white belly really helps them blend in with the clouds and bright sky. 

But they’re not all white. Especially birds that have to hunt or eat on the wing. We see this kind of patterning a lot of sea birds. Their bellies are white, but the tops of their wings are dark grey/brown. This is so when they nest, or are maybe viewed by a LARGER bird from above, they will blend in with the land or ocean below. White against a deep blue ocean really stands out... But dark grey? Not so much. 

“But Indiiiiiaaaa” some protests again like an absolute idiot who is about to be slapped out of their ignorance. 

“Night Furys are so fast that nothing could possibly catch them! They don’t have to worry about camouflaging to avoid predators!”

Alright Dumbass McBitch! Do you know what the fastest bird in the world is?

It’s the peregrine falcon. GUESS WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE?

WHITE BELLY. DARK TOP. 

The peregrine falcon is actually probably a decent comparison to the fictional night fury actually. Small in size, bird of prey, HORRIFICALLY FAST. But they have this sort of colouring for similar reasons. The dark colouring isn’t just camouflage during flight. It also helps them blend into their environment when they are nesting. 

SO IF YOU SOMEHOW CONVINCED ME THAT NIGHT FURYS ARE ALSO ACTIVE DURING THE DAY I COULD CONCEDE A DESIGN LIKE THIS:

But it’s not just colour. It’s not just size. There are other things that worry me about the female night fury’s design. The first is that she seems to have fewer of those... antennae things? And the few she has are much shorter. We’ve seen Toothless use these and they seem to be similar to a cat’s whiskers in their sensory role. So why on earth would she have less? And they be much shorter? SHE NEEDS THOSE! Without them, she may have difficulty flying, orienting herself in the air or feeling the winds she will have to combat. The designers are trying to feminise her by making her seem sleeker and rounder... which functionally makes no sense... why not do the opposite? Giver her really long antennae! Have them constantly moving in the wind!

The other thing that I immediately noticed was how SMOOTH she looks. They took away almost all of her scales. And again... doesn’t she need those for protection? This is so odd to me because it feels like they’ve removed her scales in the same way that pin up artists never draw body hair. Body hair is seen as unsightly on women, so artists remove it, leaving their subjects smooth and shining.

Do... do the dreamworks designers think the scales are unsightly? Have they waxed this dragon? And replaced her scales with body glitter??? Guys.... guys...

Whyyyyyy

Also they made her nose a lot shorter? That’s stupid. Don’t do that. 

Which one’s the girl?? Their noses are the same length so I can’t tell. 

So I can actually greatly improve the original design by just remedying these things.

Oh yeah I made her claws bigger??? BECAUSE THEY FUCKING MADE HER CLAWS SMALLER. 

But already I’m like... less pissed at it. Like “Aw yeah it’s still white, but at least they didn’t mess with much else.”

I think in a perfect world they would have given me something like this:

BUT! They did not.

And I’m not complaining just for the sake of complaining. I promise. This poster irritated me so much because HTTYD over the past 2 movies has had some stellar design. ESPECIALLY with it’s female characters. Astrid and Ruffnut are such courageous designs to me, because they’re not your classically beautiful disney knock off. Ruffnut is harsh looking. She has angles. She makes gross faces. These are all privileges that have traditionally been reserved for villains or men. Astrid is introduced in the first film like she’s some incredibly beautiful bombshell... but she really looks like a little girl. She’s kind of scrawny. She has only the smallest hint of a bust. She has a weak chin and her ears stick out, but it doesn’t matter because Hiccup thinks she is stunning.

Catch this chin in a disney movie. It will never happen.

We’ve even seen excellent female dragon designs! But we weren’t even aware that they were females because it’s not plot relevant, but they were not obviously coded. They just looked like sweet dragons!

Stormfly is a girl. You can tell by how much glitter in on her body and her short, rounded spikes. 

I just wish the HTTYD designers took more risk with the female nightfury design. The design they came up with is lazy, predictable, functionally incorrect and... kinda sexist honestly. I will still see this movie. I will still marvel at all the other wonderful designs, but this has left a bad taste in my mouth. 

From now on I hope to see more female characters that look like Sadie from Mouseguard

And less like ... this fucking shit

Not even Bambi is free from my wrath. 

[threeletterslife]

Whipped with a Cherry on Top

→ summary:  Kim Taehyung has been your friend for more than four years, having a very, very special place in your heart. Granted, he’s an annoying asscrack sometimes, but who isn’t? You love him to death — that is, if he doesn’t end up killing you first with his pesky tactics.

→ pairing/rating: taehyung x reader | PG-13

→ genre: it was supposed to be pure fluff but then my finger might’ve slipped idk now it’s crack too | f2l!au

→ warnings: just a shit ton of swearing as usual (:

→ wordcount: 6.5k 

→ a/n: i literally power wrote this shit bc the empty masterlist bothered the crap outta me sdjflsdj i hope you’ll enjoy! <3

♫: Promise by Jimin | Something Just Like This by The Chainsmokers & Coldplay | Euphoria by BTS

[ROYAL ASSCRACK]: oHmYgOd bitcb

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: bitxh

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: birch

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: bitch

 [YOU]: bitcb

 [YOU]: bitxh

 [YOU]: birch

 [YOU]: bitch (:

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: fuck off botch

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: GODDAMIT

 [YOU]: yOU FAILURE

 [YOU]: what’s up tho it’s like 3 am go to sleep

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: can’t. forgot the reading assignment… 143 pages of that shitty econ txtbook let’s get ittt

 [YOU]: dude. we have the gov final tomorrow

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: ikik… Y/N, baby can you send me the notes?

 [YOU]: istfg it’s not my fault you never come to class sO WHY ARE YOU TORTURING ME FOR YOUR WRONG DEEDS

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: ohmygod Y/N it’s not the time to be dramatic. my GRADES are at stake here

 [YOU]: bitcb

 [YOU]: bitxh

 [YOU]: birch

 [YOU]: bitch** fine. i am the bestest friend ever but fine. i’ll even send you my econ notes so you don’t have to read the txtbk. am i not the bestest friend ever

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: THANK YOU I OWE YOU BIG TIME I LOVE YOU

 [YOU]: uh huh mhm

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: ):

 [YOU]: fine.

 [YOU]: i love you too.  nOW GO DO YOUR SHIT I NEED SUM SLEEP

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: WELL THEN SWEET DREAMS BOTCH

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: fuck

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: you know what. i’m not even gonna try

 You giggle slightly, immediately sending that irresponsible dimwit of a best friend, Kim Taehyung, your econ and gov notes. Sometimes, you think that boy could’ve possibly died in college if it weren’t for you. But then again, you’d probably be dead in your grave if it weren’t for him. He’s saved you one too many times from disaster dates that could’ve left you traumatized for life.

 Kim Taehyung has been your friend for more than four years, having a very, very special place in your heart. Granted, he’s an annoying asscrack sometimes, but who isn’t? You love him to death — that is, if he doesn’t end up killing you first with his pesky tactics.

He’s killing you alright. He really is.

 “Oh, c’mon! It’s just one party,” Taehyung whines as he hands you your regular — a whipped chocolate ice cream cone. Today was Whipped Wednesday, a day where you come to visit your bestie at work and even get an ice cream cone for free because quoting Taehyung, “We’re only in trouble if someone finds out.” (Actually, you have no idea how the manager hasn’t found out about this yet, counting the fact that it’s been going on for years.) Whipped Wednesday has been a thing for both you and Taehyung for as long as you can remember — that is since he started working at the ice cream parlor at the beginning of freshmen year.

 “Aw, Y/N! I owe you one, remember? From all that note-sharing? I’m just returning the favor and taking you out for fun!” Taehyung says.

 You roll your eyes, taking a lick at the ice-cold dessert. “Are you crazy? It’s finals week, Tae.”

 Taehyung laughs, rushing over to the ice cream machine to make some perfectly whipped ice cream for a line of giggling customers. Something tells you the giggling girls are here to feast their eyes on your best friend, not his impeccably made ice cream cones. Your best friend comes back to you, slightly out of breath from being worked for the past hour.

 “That’s exactly my point, Y/N,” he huffs. “One party to fling away all that unwanted stress!” He rushes over to tend to some girl batting her fake-ass lashes at him.

 “But my point is, really? During finals?” you call after him. You take a large bite out of your chocolate ice cream, deep in thought.

 “Why not?” Taehyung calls over his shoulder. “It’s not like you can save your shitty grades with one exam!”

 You scoff loudly, putting a hand to your chest. “Excuse you, I have all A’s!” you shout, redeeming yourself to the people who might’ve heard you have ‘shitty grades.’ “Only two are borderline,” you mutter.

 “All the more reason for you to come and party!” Taehyung sings as he whips up two vanilla ice cream cones, handing them to young siblings, smiling at them warmly. He looks up at you, giving you the same, cordial smile.

 God. If it weren’t for that amazing smile of his, you’d refuse every one of his foolish ideas. But because of his irresistible smile, you’re stuck doing stupid shit with him. I guess that makes us best friends, doing dumb crap together. I blame it all on the smile.

 “You know what? Fine. Fine!” you say angrily, biting aggressively at your ice cream cone. “But I am not getting wasted!” You lean over the counter, glaring playfully at your friend.

 “Yes!” Taehyung cries, rushing over to squeeze you in a happy hug over the counter. “But it’s your loss if you’re not getting dumb drunk,” he chuckles, winking at you.

 You huff. “One of us has to get the other home — you and I both know it’s always me!”

 “You know it!” Taehyung laughs. You can’t help but laugh along with him.

It’s times like this when you wonder what would’ve happened if you’d said ‘yes.’

 Taehyung is getting ready for the party, ignoring your yapping of, ‘wear it and leave it!’ He faces his glowing mirror, his handsome, chiseled face slightly illuminated by the soft, yellow light. It’s the way how the gleam of white in his eyes shine. How his lips are perfectly pursed on his face from concentration. How his delicate nose sits on a perfect angle…

 It’s how he laughs at your dumb jokes, how he takes care of you in the simplest but heartwarming ways, how he loves how outspoken you are, how he hates to be away from you…

 You like to wonder what it would be like to date him. You like to wonder what would’ve happened if you had accepted his offer to be his girlfriend. Sometimes — no, often times (especially these days) — you wonder if he still likes you.

 When Taehyung had asked you out back in high school, you had barely known him. You were the loud girl, captain of the speech and debate team. While Taehyung… he had been some kid hiding behind others in the marching band.

 Too nice to reject him, when he asked you to your junior prom, you’d made some excuse about how you weren’t going — even though you had bought your dress and everything. You actually ended up not going, in fear of seeing Taehyung at the school party. But that had been the very starting point of your relationship with him.

 You had to give it to Kim Taehyung. He was quite the persistent guy. By the end of the year, he’d joined the speech and debate club, pushing his way to the top finalists of the school — right next to you. It was hard not to befriend him if you had to see him countless hours after school to practice for competitions.

 Easily, Taehyung found his way into your life. And much easier, he became the largest part of your life. By the time you graduated high school, you and Taehyung were inseparable: the best friends of the century. Taehyung was not the shy, nameless kid in band anymore, he was outgoing, spunky and risk-taking — even more so than you.

 Both of you never, ever reflect back on that possible romance that could’ve bloomed between the two of you. It’s just too awkward, you suppose. Besides, you’d missed your chance. No matter how much you liked Taehyung now, you couldn’t really say anything without bulldozing over your solid friendship. You’d rather have Taehyung as a friend than lose him forever when he rejects you.

 “Are you actually gonna wear that to the party?” Taehyung laughs, making you jump out of your thoughts.

 “Yes,” you say boldly, gesturing towards the ugliest pair of sweatpants you have, then tugging on the collar of your fluffy turtleneck sweater. “It’s called my male species repellent outfit.”

 “You’re fucking impossible,” Taehyung chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m almost embarrassed to be seen out with you.”

 “But you love me,” you croon, rolling yourself across Taehyung’s bed as you plop yourself on his carpeted floor. “Can we finally go now? If I have to wait a minute more, I’m not gonna fucking go.”

 Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Hold up, you idiot. Unlike some people, I want to look decent for a nice party.”

 “Don’t look too decent or the girls are gonna steal you away from me,” you pout. Taehyung turns around, flashing you a smile that makes the blood rush to your face.

 “I’d never let them steal me away from you, baby,” he coos.

 Your heart threatens to bust out of your chest, but you calm it down with a deep breath. It’s too bad you know the pet names Taehyung often calls you are all part of an ongoing joke.

 “Whatever, asscrack, let’s go.”

The party has the most atrocious music you’d ever heard in your life. Every single song boasts the same beat, making it seem like the same goddamn tune was on a broken record, repeating over and over and over again. Your head hurts like hell. You’re starting to actually think studying for finals would’ve been better than this.

 At least the parties you usually attend have good songs. This one is the epitome of trash.

 “Taehyung!” you yell at your friend who’s choking down another shot of vodka. “You idiot!”

 Your friend turns to you, a lazy smile spreading across his lips. “Hey, baby,” he mumbles, gesturing you over. You roll your eyes but obey, walking straight to his side.

 “Steady on the shots, Tae. Unless you want to wake up dead in the morning,” you sigh. “Who’s gonna shoo away the fuckboys for me, then?”

 Taehyung chuckles lowly, looking at you from under his long, eyelashes. “I shall rise up as a guardian knight to protect m’lady,” he declares dutifully in a weird, ancient accent.

 “Oh no, no role-playing,” you seethe through your teeth. “Last time was bad enough! Kim Taehyung, you hear me?” you yell at your friend, taking his cheeks in your hands as you shake his head in an attempt to cure him of his drunkenness. It does shit though.

 “M’lady! I must beseech you not to… caress me as such. You make me test my heart, dear lady,” Taehyung wails drunkenly.

 “Shut up,” you snap. “Let’s get you out of this dump.”

 “Please, dear Y/N, will you promise me to be by my side ‘til the autumn leaves turn their pleasant shade of amethystine? Will you swear to never leave me even if the sun collides with our heavenly planet?” Taehyung says dramatically, clutching onto your sweater in the process.

 You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m staying, Taehyung.”

 “Thank you, m’lady. You are too kind to me,” Taehyung mumbles, attaching himself onto you as you struggle to maneuver both you and your best friend safely out of the bustling party house.

 Once outside, you’re finally able to take a deep breath, the cold night air filling your lungs. It would’ve been peaceful if it weren’t for the nasty music that you can still hear and your best friend tugging at your hand as he kneels down on one knee in front of you.

 “Yes?” you ask, annoyed as you look down at your friend. He’s so pathetically drunk that you have to fight off the huge urge to video record the whole thing.

 “M’lady, I must confess to you what my heart has been telling me since the start of time itself,” Taehyung says sincerely, his eyes never leaving yours.

 You scoff. “Taehyung, get up from the grass. These people might water it with their own piss, judging by their music choices.”

 Your best friend pretends not to hear you. Either that or he’s so drunk he can’t hear anything but the voices inside his head. You’re joking. Kinda.

 “Y/N! Oh, Y/N!” he howls. You’re so glad the shitty music is so loud no one else can really hear this wailing except for you. “Dear, Y/N!” Taehyung vocalizes. “I’ve admired you from afar for too long. I have ventured upon treacherous lands to earn your love. But all I get is the reward of acquaintances! I must ask for more my dear!”

 You laugh, even letting a snort loose. “Oh, Taehyung.” It’s particularly enjoyable to watch someone you like to be so drunk — especially since he’s literally trying to drunk-confess to you in some medieval language.

 “I love you, oh dear Y/N!” Taehyung declares, softly squeezing your hand as he stares at you through his hooded eyes.

 You giggle, patting his soft head of hair. “You should’ve taken acting classes instead of following my ass into speech and debate,” you mutter, smiling fondly at your friend.

 “Please, Y/N,” Taehyung pleads, “will you marry me?” He pulls out a slightly crushed onion ring from his pocket and holds it out for you to admire.

 You nearly choke on air as Taehyung presents you your edible wedding ring. “Tae…” you breathe, a bright smile making its way onto your lips. Honestly, when’s the next time my crush will propose to me? Oh, fuck it. I’ll play along. “Why, yes, my handsome knight. I will marry you!” you giggle, sliding the slightly greasy onion ring onto your ring finger.

 “Oh dear! My love, my sunshine! You’ve accepted!” Taehyung wails, taking your hand and peppering it with at least a thousand little kisses.

 “Surely I will accept the marriage proposal of such a wonderful knight like you,” you laugh, tugging your friend back up to his feet. “Shall we get you home?”

 Taehyung doesn’t answer you, his eyes looking somewhere that were definitely not your eyes.

 “Taehyung! Let’s go,” you repeat yourself, starting to drag your friend to his car. But he stays rooted on the ground. You sigh. “We’ve role-played enough for one night, don’t you think?”

 “Oh, but I agree. It’s about time we stop,” Taehyung says softly. You follow his gaze to see he was staring intently at your lips. Subconsciously, you lick them, your eyes flickering down to gaze at his lips as well. He tugs you close to him — so much so that you can feel his hot breath on your skin.

 It’s enough to give you goosebumps. God, you don’t know if you should stop him or just let him continue… But it seems as if Taehyung doesn’t want you to overthink (as you usually do), quickly leaning forward and pressing his warm lips on yours.

 You gasp into the kiss, finding your balance by gripping on the front of your friend’s shirt. All thoughts fly out the window as you melt into Taehyung’s embrace, breathing in the slightly alcoholic scent and chasing his lips with yours.

 Taehyung is in no hurry as he lingeringly moves his mouth across yours, hands moving up to cup your cheeks in a loving manner. He breathes his hot breath against you, leaving you feeling a bit faint as you slowly wrap your arms around his neck to secure the both of you.

 In your opinion, it ends too soon. Both of you pull away at the same time, gazing in each other’s eyes. You’re still catching your breath. You want to take a minute, close your eyes and forever engrave this moment in your head.

 But Taehyung speaks. “M’lady, that was a wondrous kiss, was it not?” he speaks slowly, your noses touching in the middle.

 That’s when your perfect world shatters. It’s no time for victories. Your crush confessed to you, proposed to you and kissed you drunk. It wasn’t real. You feel a goddamn migraine creeping in and you grasp your head. You swear to god, you usually always have something to say. Goddamn Taehyung. He’s the only one that can get your tongue so twisted.

 Immediately, you jerk your head away from your friend, looking down at the grass. “Let’s go,” you say, tugging at his wrist.

 “Lady, why in a hurry? Let us dwindle just a bit more,” Taehyung giggles. But you’re persistent, tugging him all the way to his car. You sit at the driver’s seat because god forbid you’re gonna let Taehyung drive dumb-drunk.

 “Y/N?” Taehyung whimpers in the shotgun seat, watching you drive with your eyes looking straight ahead. “Are you mad at me?”

 You sigh, your head throbbing from your headache. “No. No, I’m not.” I should be mad at myself for falling for all that.

 “Oh okay,” he responds in a small whisper. “I’m sorry.”

 Why is he sorry? Your stomach does a few somersaults.

 “Are we voyaging to slay the dragons?” Taehyung whispers, biting at his nails nervously. “I have forgotten my armor and my sword…”

 You don’t feel like replying back with something snarky. “No, we’re taking you home, Tae.”

 “Oh, lord. Thank thee.”

Taehyung’s probably not as thankful for you as you haul him into his bed, grunting from his weight. It’s really not that your best friend is heavy, it’s more like your body isn’t built to haul heavy mass.

 “Y/N?” Taehyung asks as he scrambles up from his bed.

 “Go to bed, Tae,” you say, shaking your head, cheeks continuously flushed.

 “Can you stay?” your best friend whines, staring at you with his large, puppy dog eyes. “I don’t wanna be lonely.”

 You want to so, so bad. But you don’t want to wake up in the morning, laying on the same bed as Taehyung and regret even more things in your life. “No, I can’t stay,” you say, smiling meekly. “Finals stuff. I’m sorry Tae, I’ve got to go.”

 You don’t give him time to answer as you practically bolt out of his room, cold hand massaging your burning forehead. If this was anything like Taehyung’s other drunk encounters, he should forget everything in the morning. You just wish you were drunk so you could forget too.

You wake up the next day, drowning out the distracting memories from the night before as you groggily force yourself to sit down on your desk to get some last minute cramming done before your finals. It’s almost noon by the time you’re done, and you get ready for your very last exam, grabbing a pair of sweats and a crinkled hoodie for your outfit of the day. Taking a granola bar in your mouth as you tie your greasy hair up into a messy bun, you leave your dorm in a rush.

 The final goes well, as expected. You were in a good mood, actually, having finished all the exams. You could’ve lasted the whole day without feeling any sort of dread until the memories flood back to you.

 Oh fuck, I kissed my best friend.

 You’d plum forgotten from all that econ cramming. Shaking your head and taking pity on yourself, you sigh, checking your phone the first time that day. 31 messages from yours truly, Kim Taehyung.

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: gud mornin

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: rise n’ shine

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: you up

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: thx for getting me home last night lmfao

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: did i do stupid shit

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: jk dumb question

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: ofc i did (:

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: ok i found a goddamn onion ring in my bed

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: did you put it there

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: istg you love those greasy little shits

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: they remind me of your hair during finals week haha

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: jk please don’t kill me i love you

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: you nerd why aren’t you answering

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: i bet you’re studying for that econ final

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: bitch i’m winging that shit

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: make sure to eat something more than a granola bar

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: ik it’s not whipped wed but come see me at my shift at the ice  cream parlor after the final!!!!

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: !!!!

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]:!!!!!!!!!!!!

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: lmfao you’re gonna kill me for spamming you and i value my  life so i’ll stop here

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: but srsly meet me at the ice cream parlor

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: you need to tell me all the stupid shit i did yesterday ahahfsdjsfljf

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: also i’ll whip up your fav when you get there

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: COMPLIMENTARY because i love you

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: you’re not gonna see this until after the goddamn final but

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: GOOD LUCK BITCH

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: if anyone deserves 120% (haha the curve) it’s YOU

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: KICK ASS BBY

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: ps

 [ROYAL ASSCRACK]: istfg if you recorded my drunk ass i’m going to SHANK you

 You’re glad he doesn’t remember shit. You’re also glad that you didn’t record him last night. An angry Taehyung is not something one can survive so easily. You’re joking. Kinda.

 Your heart flutters slightly at his texts, how he worries for you. You really don’t know how you can see his face again without possibly fainting from blushing so hard. It’s as if the kiss fueled your feelings for him and now they were more uncontrollable than ever.

 You’re not sure if you should tell Taehyung exactly what he did last night or just tell a little white lie for the sake of your friendship. But then again, you kinda suck at lying. You’re just stressed that you have no idea how he’ll react if he finds out about your feelings for him. Will he distance himself from you? Will your friendship stay but never be the same? What if… he still likes you?

 Shaking your head, you laugh to yourself. Fat chance. We’ve friendzoned each other ever since high school.

 You head over to the ice cream parlor, feet thudding heavily on the sidewalk. As soon you open the door to the shop, Taehyung greets you with a loud, “Y/N!” which turns a few customers’ heads.

 “Hey!” you smile, waving back at him. You slightly duck your head so you won’t have to see his handsome face in fear you’ll get all flustered over again. “What’s up?”

 Taehyung hands you your favorite whipped chocolate ice cream and this time with a cherry placed neatly on top. “Just work,” he laughs. “Like the little addition to your usual? I wanted to try something new for you!”

 You smile, looking at the impeccably whipped ice cream, admiring every little swirl and the shiny, red cherry sitting on the very top of it. “Mhm, of course. Thanks, Tae.”

 Your friend gives you a bright smile, sending your heart into overdrive. God, I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up without blowing my head.

 “So… What kind of crazy shit did I do this time?” he grins, rushing over to tend to a few customers waiting for him.

 “The usual,” you say, as nonchalantly as possible. “Role-playing.” You take the round cherry, popping it into your mouth.

 Taehyung bursts out laughing as he whips up more ice cream cones like the professional that he is. “What did I role-play this time?”

 “A fucking knight. You were using this weird accent and your vocabulary expanded by a tenfold,” you chuckle, licking at your ice cream. “Apparently I was the princess you were so in love with.”

 “Oh?” Taehyung asks as he settles over the counter, leaning against it just like you. “Enlighten me with more,” he says, a full grin pasted on his face.

 Your cheeks heat up at the memories. “Um… Something about fighting a dragon without your armor… A love confession in some Shakespearean language… I think, at one point, a marriage proposal?” you say as casually as you can.

 “Woah, woah, woah, there!” Taehyung snorts. “Me? Propose to you?”

 “Yeah, with a goddamn onion ring,” you chuckle slightly, biting your ice cream cone. “I don’t know how it got in your bed but…”

 Taehyung raises his eyebrows. “Oh shit,” he mutters. “Did we…?”

 “No, you ass!” you blurt. “You asked me to stay with you but I…” you trail off. “Can we not talk about this? How was your final?” you say, aggressively biting at your ice cream.

 “Bombed it,” Taehyung answers shortly. “You’re trying to change the topic, Y/N. Why? Did I do something that bad?”

 No, it was fine. Great, actually. But you can’t tell him that. “No… Yes… Maybe? It depends on how you think about it,” you sigh. “I dunno. Forget it,” you say. You can literally feel the blush creeping in and settling on your cheeks. If it were any other person, you would’ve easily told them they’d kissed you drunk, but with Taehyung… it was so much harder. You’re struggling to form coherent sentences. It’s so not like you, the queen of speech and debate.

 “Oh, c’mon! What’s there to hide?” Taehyung pushes you, leaning even closer towards you. “I already confessed my undying love to you drunk, so…” It hurts because you know he’s joking.

 You sigh loudly, resting your chin on the counter. If Taehyung didn’t feel the same as you, nothing would matter, right? Ah, fuck it.

 “You kissed me.”

 “Wait, what?” Taehyung asks, completely caught off guard from your sudden spilled truth.

 “You kissed me, Tae.”

 “I…” Taehyung’s eyes widen as he searches your face for any other reaction. He laughs nervously. “Well, this is awkward.”

 “Yeah…” you mumble.

 “I was drunk, Y/N,” Taehyung says slowly, looking away from you. He chuckles without happiness. “You must’ve been caught off guard… I’m sorry. I swear it was nothing.”

 It was nothing, huh? Fuck. That didn’t hurt at all. No, no. It killed you over.

 You want to spill it out right then and there. Yet it seems so that you can argue about sensitive topics such as abortion, gay marriage and politics but you can’t seem to confess your feelings. Yeah, but a lost debate isn’t as serious as a lost friend, you reason.

 “Oh, okay,” you manage to answer. Already, you feel the awkwardness.

 “Yeah…”

 “Mm…”

 “Um, my shift will be over in a few. I’ll drive you home,” Taehyung says blandly. It feels so weird to not hear him tease you, or have a playful tone in his voice for that matter. He usually nitpicks at everything, but seeing him just tell you that in the dullest way possible… You don’t know what to think.

 It’s then when you’re finally able to feel your chocolate ice cream melting, the sticky, brown liquid making a mess of your hand. You don’t have much of a reaction to it as you get some napkins to clean yourself.

 It’s dying, melting away in an ugly shit color — just like your friendship.

 You and Taehyung both take your seats in his car; you haven’t spoken a word to him since fifteen minutes ago — which feels so weird because usually, you two are talking up a storm. There’s always something to say. Except now.

 Taehyung must be embarrassed, you think. His reaction tells you exactly that he hadn’t meant it. It kills you. Your heart feels shattered. Somewhere deep inside you, you’d hoped he’d said something on the lines of, ‘Oh, Y/N, I meant that kiss with all my heart.’

 Who am I kidding? You know that stuff only happens in movies.

 Taehyung starts the engine of his car and you jump slightly. Your friend takes no notice as he keeps his eyes straight ahead. The car ride is so silent, you can literally hear the gears of your brain working as all sorts of bad thoughts fly through your head.

 Does this mean… an eternal goodbye to Whipped Wednesdays? What if we won’t meet ever again? What if… he won’t be a part of my life anymore? Does he hate me for letting him do it?

 You’re still shaking in anxiety as Taehyung parks in front of your dorm building. “See you, Y/N,” he says shortly, waving slightly at you.

 All you can do is nod in acknowledgment, quickly exiting the vehicle.

 And just like that, Taehyung exited out of your life for a good week. You agonized in your dorm, moping around and eating a shit ton of ice cream that wasn’t perfectly whipped by Kim Taehyung. Your phone was collecting dust somewhere in the dorm and all you ended up doing for almost a whole week was binge-watch your favorite rom-com show on your laptop — probably accumulating as much weight as the text messages your friends were probably sending you.

 It was nothing. It was nothing. It was nothing.

 His words echo in your head the whole time. Just as you’re finally able to crack a small smile from a corny joke on a show: it was nothing, it was nothing, it was nothing.

 Maybe he hadn’t meant it? you had reasoned. No. He had been so disappointed in himself after finding out. You’d seen the look on his face. The horror, the humiliation.

 You don’t want to think about it, but it’s all you can think about. It takes you almost a full week to finally cease your moping. You take a nice, long shower in hot water, treat yourself to a healthy salad and squeeze some yoga in, in an attempt to lose some of that weight you gained from binge-eating so much ice cream.

 On Wednesday morning, you finally pick up your phone, wiping off the dust with your hand. 561 unread messages. 12 missed calls. Shit. Your friends probably thought you’d finally snapped from stress and buried yourself in a ditch.

 All of the calls and half of the messages are from Taehyung. You take the liberty to scroll through them quickly. To summarize, most of the texts comprise of, ‘are you mad,’ ‘you dead,’ ‘you gud?’ Then the most recent text, just five minutes before: ‘don’t forget about Whipped Wednesdays!’

 Shit. Right. It’s Wednesday.

 You don’t know if you want to go. You’ve never missed a day of Whipped Wednesdays since the day Taehyung started working at the ice cream parlor. But you’ve already come this far mourning a heartbreak. You don’t know if it’ll be healthy for you to see Kim Taehyung so soon.

 Regardless, you find yourself wordlessly getting ready, curling your hair and wearing a presentable outfit for once. At exactly noon, someone knocks at your door. You know it’s Taehyung, arrived to pick you up.

 You open the door, your stomach doing insane acrobatic tricks, making you feel all queasy. There, Taehyung stands. Handsome as usual.

 “Oh good, you’re good,” Taehyung says, rushing in to hug you. You’re taken back by surprise but soon, you find yourself wrapping your arms around your best friend as well. You had missed him. “I thought you were dead, the way you weren’t checking your goddamn phone. You idiot. I worried. I was so close to breaking in. But then I realized you were probably going through one of your moody phases.” He chuckles in your ear.

 The hair on the back of your neck stands up straight as you nod. “Yeah… moody phases,” you repeat. “I’m fine,” you say, pulling away and giving your friend a small smile. “Let’s go.”

Again, most of the car ride is silent, as if staying away from each other for a week made you strangers, foreign to the other’s presence. You really can’t take the silence though. God, you want to say something so bad, but what would you say?

 Haha, sorry Tae, but the reason why I was moping around like a baby for a goddamn week is that I might like you?? And you kinda rejected me??

 You mentally slap yourself. You’re never this tongue-tied. You hate not being able to say what’s on your mind. You want to speak. You need to —

 “Tae?”

 Your own voice surprises you as you can see Taehyung jump slightly in his seat, his hands still fixed tightly on the steering wheel. Immediately, you regret ever speaking. Too late now.

 “Hm?”

 You literally want to shank yourself for being an idiot. You’re stuck. What are you supposed to say? Maybe apologize? Yeah, apologize for being the bitch that you are, ditching your friend for a week, Y/N.

 An “I’m sorry” spills from your lips at the same time as Taehyung. Both of you chuckle. It was pretty common for both of you to say something in a unison. Soulmates, as to how you two had reasoned it as. Already, the awkward atmosphere isn’t as suffocating as before.

 “You should be sorry,” Taehyung teases, a grin escaping his lips. “You had me worried sick!”

 You huff. “If anything, you should be sorry. Just… just kissing me like that out of the fucking blue! How am I supposed to goddamn act?”

 “Okay, first of all, I was drunk. Second of all, it was nothing, I told you!” Taehyung laughs.

 “Oh my god, don’t call it nothing!” you blurt out. As embarrassed as you are for saying that, you feel better just voicing what’s on your mind than being silent.

 “What would you call it then?” Taehyung asks.

 You roll your eyes. “What am I supposed to say? It was the best kiss I’ve ever had?”

 “Best kiss?” Taehyung laughs. “I mean, of course, I was involved,” he says sassily.

 “Oh god, no,” you stifle a giggle.

 “Well then, tell me, Y/N. Do you feel the same as me?” Taehyung asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

 You make an ugly face. “What kind of vague question is that? I’m no mind reader! How am I supposed to know how you feel, huh? If I knew, don’t you think I would’ve cried from rejection or happiness, already?”

 “Wait a minute —”

 “I’m not waiting anymore, you asscrack,” you huff. “Whether you like me back or not is out of my fucking hands. But you have no idea how much I regret not saying ‘yes’ to you four fucking years ago.”

 “Like you back? Regret not saying ‘yes?’ You like me?” Taehyung asks as a grin forms on his face.

 It feels like you’re on the debate podium, expressing yourself with your words — except, it’s way more nerve-wracking than any competition you’ve been to.

 “Yes, asscrack. I like you,” you admit. It feels so good to let it out, your chest immediately feeling so much lighter. In fact, you think you lost the fifty pounds you’d gained over the past week. “You have no idea how hurt I was when you called the kiss, ‘nothing.’ Yeah, I’m a sensitive bitch and I admit I was being an absolute asshole for avoiding you, but you can’t just kiss me and expect me to act as nothing happened!” you pause for a deep breath, nearly choking on air doing so. “Agh! But the worst part is, Kim Taehyung, I know you’re not an asscrack or an idiot. You’re not even a complete shithead! You’re amazing, a bit annoying when it comes to schoolwork, yes, but also a caring friend, kind, loyal…” You trail off, fumbling over your words. You don’t know what to say. Again.

 You bury your face in your hands. “I’m not crying, I just lost my train of thought,” you sniff. “You just make me… lose my fucking words. I don’t even feel like a goddamn debate champion near you. You make me blabber around like a fucking second grader! I can’t form coherent sentences for shit! I don’t even fucking know what I’m saying right now! Fuck, you make me cuss so much, goddamit!” You finish, letting out a huge breath you hadn’t known you had been holding in.

 You hear Taehyung’s low chuckle and you jerk your head up, glaring through your teary eyes. God, I hadn’t meant to get emotional. Or to be fair, I hadn’t known I was going to confess now, either.

 “Wow, Y/N,” Taehyung laughs. “Are you really blaming your foul mouth on me?”

 “Are you fucking kidding me, Kim fucking Taehyung?” you rage. “I just confessed my whole heart out and that’s the first thing you say?”

 “Yup. And I’d pay good money to see you confess to me again. 10 out of 10 you’re the better confessor between the two of us,” Taehyung chuckles, giving you a final look before parking his car in the back lot of the ice cream parlor.

 Your eyebrow twitches in annoyance. Aggressively, you wipe away the tears welled up in your eyes, glaring at your friend, your crush.

 “Oh, Y/N,” Taehyung says between laughter, placing a hand on your arm. “I’m sorry! I really am,” he giggles. “I swear I’m not laughing at you. I just can’t believe after all these years — Idiot! I like you too!” he blurts out.

 What.

 What.

 What.

 What the FUCK?

 “YOU ASSCRACK!” you scream, shaking your arm away from Taehyung’s grip. “YOU MADE ME CONFESS LIKE A FUCKING IDIOT!”

 “Well, duh. I’m getting you back for rejecting me in high school,” Taehyung laughs. “Besides, I’ve known you for years. I know how much you tend to blush around people you having feelings for.”

 You scoff as you swing open the car door, hurriedly stepping out. “So are you rejecting me right now?”

 Taehyung smiles at you, stepping out of the car. “I would be crazy to reject someone like you.”

 “You would still be crazy even if you didn’t reject me,” you tease, smiling as you nudge Taehyung to the side.

 “Yes, definitely. I’d be crazy for you,” Taehyung giggles, nudging you right back. He intertwines his warm hand into yours as if to prove it.

 You flout. “Asscrack.” But of course, you don’t mean it. You never do.

 Oh god. His hand fits so perfectly interlocked with yours and you stare down at it, so happy your chest feels like it’ll burst.

 “You know you love me,” Taehyung answers, swinging open the door of the ice cream parlor and letting you inside first.

 “I do know,” you reply shortly as Taehyung gives you one final grin before parting from your hold and walking over behind the counter. He dons his apron and washes his hands, then grins at you. “The usual, Y/N?”

 “Hmmm… the usual,” you confirm, “but with a cherry on top.”

 “Got it! One whipped chocolate ice cream with a cherry on top! Free from all costs because you’re all mine,” Taehyung announces, his sparkling eyes locked onto yours.

 You’re at a loss of words once more. You swear something in your chest explodes at that moment — it’s a burst of emotions, actually: warm, fuzzy and cordial. You’ve got to admit, sometimes Kim Taehyung is a beautiful angel. Other times, he’s a straight up asscrack. Too bad you’re whipped for him — just as he’s whipped for you.

masterlist

[thatothercosplayer]

Keiko stood on a pier in Tokyo Bay. She was wearing a black trenchcoat, with a matching black fedora on her head. A lone white feather was stuffed in the ribbon.

It’s a cold day in Tokyo- a bleak day, she thought. Perhaps, even, as cold as my heart. She stared out across the bay at the Rainbow Bridge, then down at the locket she was holding in her hand. It was currently open; a photograph of her twin sister, Reiko, was inside it. 

It’s been forever since you took The Big Sleep. Even though you’ve been gone forever, dear sister, somehow I feel you’re with me even now. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so lucky on these cases of mine- you’re always there, watching over my shoulder for lone gunmen, would-be assassins, and whatever other filthy mongrels dwell the bloated underbelly of this cramped city. 

Shaking her head, she shut the locket and tossed it into the water. I don’t exactly know why I bought this locket. This feels like a lot of effort for some kind of hardboiled moment. Shit. I probably should have kept that and returned it. 

Oh well. 

Turning arond and walking away, she pulled her fedora down a bit. I still don’t understand this case. Police resolve a hostage situation and arrest a kidnapper. Upon opening the door the hostage was being held in, she’s completely vanished. No windows, other doors, or any other exit. Just a small vent in the floor, only wide enough to maybe stick a single leg down. 

She made her way back to her office, throwing the door open. It was sparsely lit by a lone ceiling fan hanging in the center of the ceiling. Blinds only let in a few slats of light. 

Sitting at her desk, Keiko kicked her feet up on it. 

I found myself with only one real way to perform this investigation- do it backwards. Trace the steps from the hostage situation. So far, my efforts have led me to a lone man. 

A strange fellow, who only went by the name Shinsuke. I’ve exchanged a few messages with him at this point. He should be entering any moment now. 

Sticking a hand in her trenchcoat, she wrapped a hand around her favorite gun. It was one of two, really. This one had gold plating on the trip. A dragon’s foot with large claws was engraved on them. It was Goldclaw- a nice semi-automatic pistol, along with a silencer she kept on her person. Can never be too careful. 

The door opened, and Shinsuke walked in. He was a scraggly fellow, with ratty hair that covered his eyes. A wide grin was on his face. 

“You gonna talk?” Keiko asked. 

“Maybe when I’m dead,” Shinsuke replied, lifting up a revolver. 

Without hesitating, Keiko pulled out Goldclaw and fired. The muzzle flash caused everything to go white.

-----

Ikura rolled over in bed, groaning. Another day, another adventure. 

There’s a brief logo splash. It reads Why Is The Entire Girls-only Class I Teach Attracted to Me? 

She had appeared....inside a garbage harem fanservice anime.

She hadn’t even stepped outside the door when she was met by one of the would-be suitors. Goddamit. Just one day of peace, that’s all I ask. 

He was Generic Pretty Girl #16. She had long green hair and wore a school uniform. “Good morning, Ikura-sempai!” She called. 

Ikura facepalmed. I seriously thought she would have gotten the hint by now- but I guess that’s what happens when you’re the protagonist. No peace from the onslaught. Sighing, she waved and forced a smile. “Good morning, Midori! What brings you here?” 

“I thought I’d take the long way to school today. Say, Ikura-sempai! I think I’ve outgrown my school uniform. What do you think?” Midori leaned forwards a bit, the top three buttons of her top suddenly unbuttoning just because she breathed. This hadn’t been a problem until before, but it seems like consistency is really out the window here. “Well, Sempai? What’s your opinion?” She breasted boobily. 

Ikura closed her eyes, a lone sweatdrop rolling down the side of her forehead. Yep. It’s official. I hate everything. 

“Stop right there! You’re not going to take my beloved maiden of justice!” A voice called out. Up above, standing on the roof of Ikura’s house, was another girl! She was wearing a red tracksuit with white stripes on the sides. She had messy short red hair. It was Generic Tomboy Girl #82. Jumping off, she yelled. “TOOOOOH!” 

....and then faceplanted onto the pavement.

Ikura turned away, and began walking to work. “Yep...fuck this,” she muttered. 

“KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Squealed a female voice.

“Not more!” Ikura bemoaned. 

Another girl had appeared, with long, curly brunette hair. She was wearing a hairband, and was dressed as a maid. For...some reason. She has huge boobs.  I mean some serious honkers. A real set of badonkers. Packing some dobonhonkeros. Massive dohoonkabhankoloos. Big ol' tonhongerekoogers.

“Ikura-sempaaaaai!” The blonde girl cried. She was Generic Ms. Fanservice #19. Running up, her breasts jiggling and bouncing with every step, she jumped at Ikura, intended to glomp her. 

Ikura’s eyes widened, and she dove out of the way. Ms. Fanservice sailed through the air gracefully, despite the fact that aerodynamics would state she would tip forwards because of how top-heavy (hah!) she was. 

“Just...one...day!” Ikura breathed through gritted teeth. 

“OOOOOOOHOHOHOHO!” A shrill voice laughed in a dignified manner. “You uncouth peasants! You all have no manners, letting your baser instincts control your very actions!” 

The camera panned to yet another girl, who was wearing a frilly white dress. She had brown hair. It was the transfer student, Generic British Stereotype #20. She has even bigger bonkhonagahoogs. Humongous hungolomghononoloughongous.”My dearest Ikura-sempai! Please, accept my affections! I have such deep passion for your beautiful, lithe---”

‘ENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUGH!”

 Ikura yelled so loudly that the font grew several sizes. 

“YOU’RE ALL YOUNGER THAN ME! I’M MARRIED, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” She shouted, holding up her hand and showing a crimson ring. She paused.

“...wait, I’m married!? What?!” She said in confusion, as she briefly had a moment of clarity beyond the confines of her own setting. It definitely isn’t Shou yanking at the chain in regards to the wedding plot. No siree. 

Then reality unfolds, all of the girls falling to the ground and begin writhing and twitching violently, sliding and dragging across the ground. Their skin began to horrendously vibrate and liquify before kind of fusing together into a gigantic horrible congllomerate. It had multiple gibbering mouths filled with horrendous fangs; its multiple eyes were bleeding, the breasts boobily titting wildly with every thunderous step the creature made. 

”Oh, what the fuck-” Ikura exclaimed. 

The creature leaned downwards, breasticles flopping about with no regard for physics or biology because this is what the shut-ins get off to. At least, I think. 

...is that hypocritical? I’m a shut-in, myself...

Anyways, the creature’s gaping maw widened, terrible fangorious abyss on full display. As it lunges forwards to consume Ikura, the screen cuts to black. 

Footsteps can be heard echoing throughout a narrow stone corridor. The beam of a flashlight comes into view, followed by the source- Ikura. wearing her favorite black coat, carrying a boombox over her shoulder. 

As the beam of her flashlight fills up the corridor, it shows she’s in some kind of underground waterway. She goes over to a spot she likes, and sets down the boombox. Digging a tape out of her coat, she opens the boombox up and inserts the tape, before rewinding it and pausing. 

Clearing her throat, the Hakase hits play.

She immediately begins shimmying and shaking to the music. 

The camera slooowly pulls back as things fade to black. 

For now, at least. 

[changseobbing-blog]

A Sweet Surprise

Exo Fanfiction

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Word Count: 3.5kish

Fluff

Creative Collaborator: @pikayeollie (thank you so much for helping me plot this tort-*cough*-i mean GIFT)

A/N: This was written for my good friend and smol celtic hoe @yeolology who’s birthday has just passed. I hope you had an amazing weekend (despite the hangover lol noob) and WELCOME TO ADULT HELL, meet you in spoons for a purple rain m8 <3 

Today felt like any other Saturday. You sleep in and when you check your texts there's nothing waiting for you. Your best friends are busy this weekend with other commitments. Naya has singing lessons all day and Jenna has had to go home for some family function. You try not to feel disappointed but you can’t shake seem to shake it. Your friends aren’t bad people but it still hurts.

Today is your birthday and your friends didn’t remember.

You aren’t a materialistic person. You weren’t expecting any elaborate gifts or a crazy party but your heart sinks when you aren’t greeted with the usual birthday texts. They’d usually make you a silly card with all your terrible pictures and you’d spend the evening together (and usually the following hungover morning).

You knew they didn’t mean it. Naya has become increasingly busy approaching the exam season with her students and Jenna had been getting over the flu.

You decide you won’t bother telling them, you don’t want them to feel bad or upset about it. What’s one birthday evening out of them many you’d celebrate with them, you’ll just enjoy the morning with your family and an evening pampering yourself.

So you throw on some clothes and head out to meet your family for brunch. You have a great time catching up with your family and you already feel better. One of the gifts from your family is a set of luxurious bath bombs and expensive face masks and you’re already looking forward to a pamper evening and movie marathon with your pet hamster.

After you say goodbye to your family and oddly fail at convincing your brother to join you for a few drinks at the pub you resign yourself to heading home. You enjoy a long bath and settle on the sofa with your favourite movie.

You are startled all of a sudden by someone banging on your front door. Sitting up you realise you’d fallen asleep halfway through the second movie, must have been the effects of the bath bomb.

You wipe some drool from the side of your mouth, peeling your body off the sofa to find out who’s playing the drums on the door. You should have been able to guess but the moment you unlock the door it’s being pushed open and two people are barging in.

“Well about fucking time, we’ve been knocking for ages!” Jenna shouts exasperatedly as pulls you into a hug with Naya grinning behind her, both their arms full of bags.

You follow them dumbstruck as they dump everything onto the coffee table and Naya turns towards you offering you an envelope.

“Happy Birthday Biatch” she smiles warmly and you laugh as you open it to find the birthday card covered with the terrible photo’s that had found yourself missing.

“I thought you guys forgot” you mumble in awe, as you read the cheesy messages written by each of your friends.

They share a knowing smirk with each other as Jenna thrusts a bag into your hand.

“I’m actually offended” she mocks, feigning outrage.

“You think we’re that shitty that we’d make other plans and ditch you!?” she exclaims while waving her arms around dramatically.

“As if we’d pretend to forget and spend that time setting up for the greatest of your birthday evenings” Naya shrugs feigning innocence as she plops down on your sofa.

“Doesn’t sound like us at all” Jenna concludes leaning smugly against the wall.

Your mouth falls open. They’re unbelievable.

“Well, what are we doing!?” you demand.

“Step one, you’re going to change into that dress” Jenna answers excitedly nodding towards the bag you’re still clutching.

You open it and find the dress you’ve had your eye on for the longest time. You had been indecisive about getting it, a little unsure if you could pull it off. You look up at your friends in shock again but before you can say anything else Naya is thrusting another bag into your hands.

“Step two, you’re going to match that dress with these shoes and this clutch. Then we’re all going to get ready together, head out to dinner and make sure we come back as drunk as we can get”

“So where are we going?” you ask, walking into your bedroom to change. The dress fits perfectly and when you return your friends are cheering and wolf whistling before forcing you to take a seat so they can start doing your hair and makeup.

“That my friend, is a surprise” Jenna winks.

                                                        / / /

A couple of hours of pampering and a bottle of wine later, you are all in the back of a cab on your way to the first secret location. Jenna and Naya refusing to give anything away. When you arrive you practically yell.

You’ve pulled up outside ‘Loey’s Little Italy’. A new Italian restaurant that opened in your city, it had the best reviews for its food. What was interesting was the popularity of the dessert’s the restaurant produced.

The actual waiting list for a reservation is 3 months long emphasising the demand and exclusivity of the restaurant and you wouldn’t have even guessed this was where you would end up tonight.

“How?” you gasp,

Jenna points at Naya who is walking nervously up the street. Checking her reflection in one of the windows and correcting some of the tousled curls in her hair.

“Oh my god is this where the new boyfriend works?” You start to piece things together. “You didn’t have to go that far just to get us a table” you tease giggling as your friend looks at you flusteredly.

“His name is Jongdae and he’s the head chef, when I mentioned you’d wanted to come here he told me to pick a date. He runs it with his best friend. I can’t wait for you guys to meet him and to try the food...anyway less talky more walky” she cuts off, dragging you and Jenna towards the entrance.

As you enter the restaurant you can’t believe how contrastingly different it is to its exterior. It wasn’t how you imagined. Outside was very unassuming, keeping in trend with the modernised part of town it was situated in. There were large glass windows with lamps arranged in front of black curtains giving a mysterious air to the restaurant. The entrance comprised of glossy black doors and the name of the restaurant above them in bold cursive.

Inside was more rustic. It was smaller than you had pictured, it couldn’t have more than 20 tables spread around the dining area. There were natural tones of browns and cream. Some of the walls were bare brick adorned with chalkboards of the evening's specials and the rest had shelves containing wine bottles and jars filled with different types of pasta.

There was a soft glow around the room from delicate glass chandeliers that hung from the ceiling and incandescent candles lit in the windowsills. Overall it had a relaxed welcoming ambience.

You are greeted by a handsome blonde man who introduces himself as Baekhyun your server for the evening. He’s dressed in black tailored trousers, a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a grey waistcoat. When Naya gives her name for the reservation he whistles and informs her that she’s way too pretty for his boring friend Jongdae before beckoning you all to follow him to your table.

You can’t hide your delight when you notice the table has been decorated with banners and balloons, pulling your friends into a tight hug.

“So this is where you’ve been all day” you muse.

You take your seats and Jenna drapes a ‘Birthday Girl’ sash over your head as Naya pulls a customised wine glass with your name on it out of nowhere.

They really are well prepared.

You each are given a wine menu and you flick through the extensive list of foreign wine exchanging unsure looks with your friends.

You can’t locate your usual brand and upon seeing your confusion Baekhyun chuckles and asks you more questions about what kind of wine you prefer.

“I sourced most of the wine from Italy, so if you let me know what you like I'm sure I can find a wine to suit your taste” he explains with a proud smile.

“Surprise us” Jenna winks and you snicker at her weak attempts to flirt.

Baekhyun seems oblivious and bounces away to retrieve his top choice.

“Let’s just order a bunch of different food and share” Naya suggests, closing the menu and grabbing a roll from the bread basket “Then we get a chance to try everything”.

You and Jenna agree and discuss exactly what to get just in time for Baekhyun to return with the wine.

He explains it’s an ‘Avignonesi Vin Santo Di Montepulciano’ from the Tuscany region but you all just conclude that it’s delicious. Naya takes charge of the food order, listing off each dish you want to try.

“I’m always impressed by girls who can eat well, I’ll put this in for the kitchen to start preparing right away” he grins and strides away confidently.

“That is a very nice ass” Jenna comments eyes wandering after Baekhyun as Naya fills everyone’s wine glass to the brim.

                                                            * * *

Chanyeol is busy mixing up a batch of cream frosting when Baekhyun bursts through the kitchen doors. In his attempt to not drop his mixing bowl as he jumps back startled he manages to knock over a carton of eggs.

“Goddamit Baek!” he shouts out as he puts the bowl in the fridge to set and begins to clean up the floor. One of the servers offers to do it for him but he shakes his head with a smile. When he started the restaurant with his friends they all agreed to be fully involved and he was going to stick to it.

His passion has always been desserts and baking. He went to culinary school and worked as an apprentice with one of the best pastry chefs in the city, but was always dreaming about one day opening his own restaurant or bakery.

His best friend from culinary school Jongdae share a similar dream but he was always more interested in producing the best Italian cuisine with the simplest ingredients. So they took a trip to Italy after graduating to further research and immerse themselves in the culture.

On the way, they had met Baekhyun in Piedmont while he was on a business trip sourcing regional Italian wines and they decided to open a restaurant together. He was brought out of his thoughts by Baekhyun.

“Your girlfriend is in the restaurant Dae, nice to see she wasn’t a figment of your imagination this time” Baekhyun announces handing Jongdae a sheet of paper with a table's order.

Chanyeol snorts as he wipes up the last of the yolk from the ground and moves to wash his hands.

Jongdae completely oblivious to the insult from Baekhyun starts smoothing his hair down in the reflection of a saucepan causing some of the kitchen staff to laugh.

"This is a good selection of food" Jongdae muses as he reads back the order and expedites to his team of chefs.

"Actually it's for your girlfriend's table" Baekhyun adds before he gasps "You didn't promise her a free meal did you?" He accuses jokingly.

Chanyeol chuckles and joins in the conversation "If she’s putting up with Dae we better offer some form of discount” He teases “Didn't they order the birthday cake?"

Jongdae nods cheerfully "Yep, it's for Naya's friends birthday. That reminds me, I should probably go say hi and wish her friend a happy birthday, you should come out and finally meet her".

When he enters the restaurant his eyes are drawn to you immediately. He feels increasingly nervous as Jongdae strides ahead to a beaming girl with wild black curly hair and rich mocha skin, he notices how much his best friend adores her as he wraps her in a tight hug and turns to greet her friends.

His eyes focus back to you and he feels his palms begin to sweat, you're incredibly beautiful. Time seems to slow down as he approaches. You’re chuckling behind your hand at something Jongdae is saying and then your gaze lands on him. He almost trips as he gets closer to the table. Your dark hair has hints of purple reflecting the light, stopping just past your shoulders. Bright blue eyes blink at him, framed by long lashes.

When you smile he feels his stomach flip and he pleads with his brain not to let him say anything embarrassing. He has enough time to gather words before stepping forward and introducing himself to the table. Jongdae immediately starts boasting about Chanyeol and their friend and his baking abilities and he feels self-conscious as you watch him nodding along interestedly.

You introduce yourself to him with a dazzling smile, your voice sweet and friendly. He almost wants to pinch himself to confirm that you really exist and aren’t a figment of some elaborate dream.

Your eyes sparkle as he wishes you a happy birthday. Your button nose scrunches is the most adorable way and your lips look soft as you bite your lip in what he assumes is a habit.

Everything about you is unfair and everything about you compels him to want to know more about you.

The warmth in his chest spreads as you gush about all the good things you’d heard about the restaurant and how excited you are to be able to try all the food tonight. He asks you a few questions about yourself, mixing in the odd question to your other friends to try not to seem too obvious.

Jongdae kisses Naya’s hand and announces he should be getting back to make sure the food ordered is cooking and on its way, Chanyeol follows Jongdae's leads and excuses himself from the table, he has a cake to finish and he’s determined to make it his best work.

                                                             * * *

Your eyes follow Chanyeol as he strides back to the kitchen. You felt inexplicably drawn to him the instant you sensed him approaching the table. He was so tall, dressed in the same black pants as Baekhyun but wearing a white short-sleeved chef's jacket that fit his lean but broad frame well.

You think your favourite part of him was his ears, the way they stuck out underneath his chef's cap. Framing his dimpled cheeks and warm brown eyes. You very interested in his desserts you decide, perhaps you could order him for dessert?

Jenna seems to have read your mind as she whispers in your ear “You should order yourself a slice of that later, he couldn’t take his eyes off you”.

You giggle, there is no way he’d be looking at you, but it doesn’t stop you from gossip like schoolgirls over how good looking the owners are and how disgustingly adorable Naya and Jongdae make as a couple.

The food has you feeling euphoric. You can only describe it as an explosion of flavour taking over your mouth. Everything tastes fresh. Each dish lightly but complexly flavoured, rather than drowned in sauce like most of the Italian places in the city.

Before you know it, the plates are clear and you’re nearly through the second bottle of wine. Jenna and Naya are in the midst of a heated debate over the pronunciation of ‘gif’ and you’re sitting comfortably enjoying the ambience of the restaurant. There’s a full house tonight but the atmosphere is relaxed. You decide this is your new favourite place and daydream about the handsome dessert chef with large ears and dazzling smile.

You jump suddenly when Naya covers your eyes.

“Time for your final surprise” she whispers excitedly and you hear a collection of footsteps gathering around you.

When you’re able to see again the first person you see is Chanyeol. Smiling toothily at you as he places the most beautiful cake you’ve ever seen in front of you. It’s covered in cream and decorated with a mixture of berries. He’s used blackberries as the main fruit to spell out ‘Happy Birthday’ and you wonder if it's fate that he’s chosen your favourite fruit.

“Hey Chanyeol, does it feel strange about to sing happy when yours is so close?” asks Baekhyun with his head tilted to the side.

You almost didn’t notice Baekhyun, Jongdae and some of the waiting staff are standing around the table. You do however instantly recognise the mischievous glint in Jenna’s eyes. She suddenly places her hands on Chanyeol’s back and pushes the confused looking man into the seat next to you and claps her hands together.

“Then we might as well sing to them both” she declares.

Jongdae nods approvingly and Baekhyun is practically bouncing with excitement. Before Chanyeol even gets a chance to protest Naya leads the group into singing your joint birthday song.

You both exchange sheepish glances in the mutual feeling of embarrassment. You try to focus and appreciate your friends' efforts and glance around again at the streamers and banners they’ve laid out for you. You observe Jongdae and Naya, singing in perfect harmony with each other and grin at the cute couple.

You snicker at Jenna’s overdramatic tone deaf singing and hear a rich chuckle coming from Chanyeol beside you. He leans his shoulder into yours to whisper a funny remark in your ear about Baekhyun and you giggle harder. Your heart beats increases when his shoulder remains pressing against yours.

Baekhyun is yelling the song without a care as he tries to encourage the rest of the wait staff who mumble the words mundanely like they just want to escape.

The whole situation is comical but you will always look back on this as the best birthday you’ll experience.

It’s the birthday you realise your friends are the greatest and most embarrassing humans you know.

It’s the birthday you meet Park Chanyeol, renowned dessert chef and incredibly handsome dork.

It’s the birthday he nervously asks you for your number.

It’s the birthday you meet your soulmate.

[love-me-romantically]

EXO x Reader Scenarios (5/9)

Title: Begging

Kim Jongdae x Reader

Word Count ~ 2k

Summary: “Beg for it and I might let you come”

Tags: Orgasm delay/denial, blindfolding, dominant! reader

Can we try something? is not a sentence that is spoken rarely in your bedroom. But usually Jongdae is the one asking the question and you are the one gladly accepting whatever new thing he has come up with this time. So when the words leave your mouth for once Jongdae looks at you with the most expecting and yet teasing grin ever.

"I never thought I'd hear you say that in this life", he chuckles before pressing a soft kiss against your cheek. Playfully you shove him away.

"You just always beat me to the punch", you explain while climbing on top of him. Jongdae wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you even closer.

"So, what did you want to try?", he murmurs into your ear between two soft kisses against your neck.

"Blindfolds", you carefully whisper. This particular fantasy has been on your mind for quite some time now and out of all the things you have been wanting to try it is one of the few that has yet to be fulfilled. Jongdae is quite experimental when it comes to these things and you two have pretty much tried all the vanilla things and even some of the kinkier things together. Some of them ended up being nice discoveries, for example, you never considered that handcuffs would be your thing before you tried it, but you ended up enjoying them a lot more than you ever thought you would. Other things have been less enjoyable and some just plain hilarious. You jokingly called Jongdae Daddy one time to test his reaction and he had a fit of laughter and didn't calm down for another ten minutes or so. Sex with Jongdae is always kind of playful, mostly spontaneous and also very often experimental. He never runs out of things he wants to try and you happily go along with it all because most of the time the things he suggests are things that you secretly wanted as well but were too embarrassed to bring up by yourself. But just this time you'll be brave and get yourself what you want.

"Oh, so you want me to blindfold you, maybe also tie you up a little while I'm at it and have my way with you?", Jongdae asks wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You roll your eyes and give him another playful punch against his chest. Then you shake your head.

"Actually, I want it the other way around."

Jongdae raises his eyebrows, a smile spreading across his face.

"Oh, now it's getting interesting", he whispers, leaning forward again to brush his lips along your jawline. "You know that I like it when you take over", he murmurs against your skin and you can feel the tingly sensation of his touch causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise up.

Switching places is another thing that isn't really uncommon in your relationship with Jongdae. You never really considered yourself the dominant type before but Jongdae seems to bring out sides of you that you were unaware of and maybe that is one of the many reasons you love him so much. With pretty much all of your former partners you took on the passive role and it was never quite fulfilling for you. There is nothing really enjoyable about just lying there with your limps spread out. With Jongdae there is no real passive role because submission can be an active choice as well. And it's a choice you make often, but lately – which may or may not be related to Jongdae saying that he finds it very hot when you ride him – you've been trying out how being in charge works for you. And apparently, it works quite well.

"So, how do you want to do this?", Jongdae asks, apparently eager to fulfill this fantasy you just presented him with right here and now. You take a moment to think about it because honestly, you didn't plan out the details yet. You just knew that you wanted to try this and thought that you would probably be able to figure things out along the way. You let your eyes wander through the bedroom until you find with you've been looking for. Quickly you climb off the bed to grab a black silk scarf that is hanging over the half-open door of your wardrobe.

"We'll use this", you explain, tossing the fabric at Jongdae who catches it with one hand and inspects it for a moment. In the meantime, you climb back onto the bed and then take it from his hands again.

"You hold still now and try to stay quiet, I want to see how long you can hold out, probably not long though", you whisper while letting the silk scarf run through your fingers. Jongdae can get quite vocal during sex and you love teasing him about it every now and again. Then again you are also deeply in love with his whiny moans and you could listen to them for hours.

"Do you want to tie me up as well?", Jongdae asks. He tries to make it sound like a joke but you can clearly hear the arousal in his voice.

"No, I trust that you can hold still on your own. I want to see if you can obey orders, I might reward you if you do good", you whisper. While speaking you crawl back onto Jongdae's lap and make sure he is with his back almost against the headrest of your bed. Carefully you take the scarf and wrap it around his face and tie it at the back of his head, making sure not to get any of his hair into the knot or making it too tight.

"Is this okay?", you whisper while cupping Jongdae's face with your hands.

"More than okay", he whispers back before he leans his head forward blindly, probably aiming for a kiss but instead he crushes your noses together. At least he really is blinded. With a soft giggle, you push him back.

"Stay still", you demand and Jongdae already lets out a first small whine. So much for staying quiet. He really isn't good at restraining himself, which will make seeing him struggle even more exciting.

"Be quiet", you remind him while you undo his belt. Jongdae bits his bottom lip and lifts his hip to help you with taking off his jeans and boxers. You smirk when you see his erection, he's already hard and throbbing and you didn't even really touch him yet. With a cheeky grin that Jongdae can't see for obvious reasons, you lean forward to whisper in his ear.

"I didn't know being submissive turned you on that much."

You make sure that your lips brush against his earlobes as you speak and you can really see the goosebumps your hot breath trickling against his skin causes. If Jongdae bites down on his lip just a bit more it might start to bleed.

You lean back again to finally give his twitching erection the attention it's begging for. There are already a few droplets of precum leaking from the tip, he must really be excited for this. Carefully you wrap your hand around Jongdae's erection and before you even start moving it you can already hear a small whimper escaping his lips. You leave your hand in position without moving it.

"Be still", you remind Jongdae harshly and he whimpers again, biting down on his already bright red bottom lip. Only when he finally manages to be silent you start moving your hand. Jongdae is able to restrain himself for maybe ten seconds or so before a moan escapes his lip. You stop moving and pull back your hand, causing another whiny moan to spill from Jongdae's mouth.

"Please, continue", he whimpers, he is wiggling around a little, his hands clawing the bedsheets next to him to force himself to hold still.

"Why so desperate?", you ask in a teasing tone of voice. Jongdae huffs, giving you a pouty look with bright red bitten lips and flushed cheeks.

"It's a lot more intense when I can't see okay and now stop torturing me“, Jongdae tries to sound demanding but it's hard to take him seriously when he is just this whining mess in front of you. Silently giggling to yourself you reach out to touch his erection again and continue with the most teasing handjob you have ever given in your entire life. This time Jongdae really tries to be quiet as best as he can. He seems so focused on it, his face looks almost ridiculous. Lips tightly pressed together, probably also squeezing his eyes shut underneath the blindfold, a few sweatdrops on his forehead. How could you not tease him when he looks like that? Because even if you are the one demanding him to be silent you want him to get loud. You want to see him struggle and finally break.

You start moving your hand faster, gripping a little tighter around Jongdae's cock, making sure to stimulate the tip as best as you can and he falls apart. It begins with a small whiny sound that quickly turns into a loud whiny moan. You keep moving your hand until you are sure that Jongdae is close to coming then you pull away again, leaving him unsatisfied and whimpering.

"Goddamit, just let me come already", Jongdae whines, as you pull back your hand yet again. His erection is twitching and he is shuffling around uncomfortably, one of his hands reaches out to do the job himself but you slap it away before he can even touch himself. Jongdae lets out another whiny moan when you wrap your own hand around his cock again to give him a few agonizingly slow strokes.

"You're the worst", he says through gritted teeth. You smile while you continue to slowly pump his dick with your hand.

"Beg for it and I might let you come", you whisper, trying your best to make your voice sound low and seductive. Jongdae replies with another whimper and you stop moving for a second, just to prove your point.

"Oh damn, please. I beg you, please just, ah- please let me come. Please, I'm- fuck!"

You continue moving your hand until pleas turn into curses and curses turn into unintelligible moans. You love Jongdae's voice. He has such a warm voice. Sometimes it has the colour of honey, sweet and light. Sometimes it's dark and husky. Low and soft when he speaks, high and clear when he sings. And cracking and whiny when he moans.

When Jongdae finally reaches his climax it's intense. His cum spreads all over his lower abdomen, thighs and of course also your hand and lower arm. While Jongdae is still breathing heavily and savouring the feeling of an intense climax you reach for a tissue to clean off a bit of the mess he made. You're really glad that you always keep some tissues close to the bed. You really do need them on a regular basis.

Once your hand is cleaned you help Jongdae get rid of his blindfold. His eyes look a little hazy but still he is staring back at you intensely. Any other person would probably assume that after a climax like that Jongdae would be ready to fall asleep on the spot. You did believe that as well in the beginning. But Jongdae is rarely satisfied with going just one round. No matter how good that round might have been. Because why have great sex once when we could also do it multiple times?

You are about to throw aside the silk scarf but Jongdae is holding on to it with a sheepish grin on his face.

"I'll need that later to tie you up. Don't even think you're going to get away with torturing me like this."

[jungnoir]

mini cryptid hunter!bts au bc i was enabled

@clockwork-lullaby this was probably more than you were asking for but it’s happening

yoongi

the “logical” cryptid hunter. if you watch buzzfeed unsolved just think shane LOL

yoongi just has a really specific fear and it’s of demons

grew up in a really religious church playing the piano as a kid so he always heard about “exorcisms” being done on the church grounds late at night from his friends

yoongi isn’t as dumb but i mean he’s bored on a friday night and his parents are out for their anniversary so he goes and sneaks in with them to the church and the lights are on and he actually encounters a possessed church goer getting cleansed by a few priests but it’s just. like not working?

the person is absolutely livid and seething and speaking in a crackly voice and suddenly the demon notices him and his friends run but yoongi is just stone still

before the demon can try and hurt him it’s exorcised and yoongi is completely mortified and the priests are like “kid omg why are you here you could have DIED” and they tell him to never speak of it to anyone and yoongi’s smart enough to know that what he’s just seen is something way beyond his years

in fact he’s repressed it so much that even when he’s older sometimes he has to remind himself it happened and now hunting demons is just his damn calling

100% carries a dagger or something dipped in holy water and probably knows a bunch of bible verses that’ll make a demon squeal right off the top of his head

when not hunting demons, he’s usually just making fun of namjoon for getting spooked all the time LOL

him and hoseok are like the lethal duo for demons like god forbid you’re a demon and get on their bad side bc u will be finessed tf into a pile of ash

probably naps on the way to haunted sites and the first maknae to rouse him from his sleep is carrying him to their destination

(but never jimin bc jimin is not a heathen like the others ofc)

namjoon

ok i’m gonna crack on my boyfriend real quick: DUDE IS SUCH A BABY OH MY GOD!!! HOW DID HE GET HERE!!! WHY IS HE DOING THIS!!!!! WHY COULDN’T HE MAKE FRIENDS WITH NORMAL PEOPLE WHO DON’T HUNT THE SUPERNATURAL

he’s v smart and reads up on lots of folklore from all around the world so he’s your go to when you wanna figure out what’s been spooking the locals

namjoon says he doesn’t believe in the supernatural but this is usually said in a small, squeaky chant under his breath as he wanders through the cemetery during witching hour with his six dumb ass friends and why did he have to start that casual conversation with hoseok that one time in biology-

has never had a definite brush with the supernatural BUT 9/10 he’s gonna think a floorboard creaking is the hounds of hell coming after him

it’s even worse that he’s clumsy

if jin isn’t holding onto him he’s most likely gonna run and fall when something remotely worrying happens and they aren’t carrying an injured namjoon through another haunted house again, goddamit joon

his favorite subject is aliens and he’s constantly letting the boys know that they are out there and they are avoiding the human race bc the human race is, in fact, super fucking stupid

is also stuck between wanting to get abducted so he can be left alone or wanting the rest of the world to get abducted so he can be left alone

tough choices, really

if shit goes down namjoon is either hiding behind yoongi or hoseok and he only trusts those two to get him out safely

“the rest of you are despicably hopeless” “you trip on dust, namjoon”

jin

the Responsible Adult

also easily spooked as fuck skfjekfi

ngl he’s only slightly more calm than namjoon but that is not,,,, by much

they usually cling to each other to calm each other down (the fucking waves of anxiety rolling off of the both of them is truly just. terrible. they’re both so nervous you can feel it from right at home behind the screen of your phone from which you’re reading this)

jin babbles when he’s scared too, and starts singing old nursery rhymes his mom sang him when he was still scared of the monsters under his bed

but ok. his reflexes are WAY better than namjoon’s bc where namjoon is “scream and run”, jin’s is “punch and run”

dude don’t even know what he saw but he’s already swinging

jin knows ghosts are real because he had an imaginary friend as a child who resembled the old owner of his house pretty spot on

since he figured that out, he can’t sleep in his old room alone any more and will use any excuse in the book to share with his parents when he visits

jin is always carrying snacks for the boys bc cryptid hunting is brutal man,, here’s a protein bar and some holy water

uses a fanny pack to carry said snacks and while yoongi has made every joke in the book abt it, who is the one carrying the antiseptic in a conveniently stored place when said min yoongi gets a cut hm

hoseok 

ok ok hoseok had a somewhat similar experience to yoongi as a kid and is also a great demon hunter

his family taught him about the evil shits as a kid so he’s always been aware of them even if kids always called him dumb for thinking they were real

uniquely enough, his choice of weapon is a bow and arrow (also dipped in holy water but depending on what they hunt, he could use anything speared by his arrow)

he really REALLY loves hunting famous lore tho like one time they actually tried to find bigfoot and he was so excited the whole time he couldn’t sleep. he learned the mating call and everything

(yoongi brought earplugs specifically for this reason)

he used to be easily spooked as a kid but now he’s steeled his nerves, if only to become the best monster hunter he can be

does copious amounts of research with joonie (listen ok they have sleepovers together and just geek out over the possibilities of some cryptid existing somewhere and hoseok gets stars in his eyes imagining what could be. namjoon loves analyzing the logic and sets hoseok on the right path since he tends to get a bit daydreamy when it comes to the famous stuff)

imagine him just freakin slaying a demon in front of the boys and getting a cocky lil smirk on his face

“calm down buffy, your ego is gonna be too big to fit in the van home”

jimin

ngl first thing he thinks about when his friends talk abt the supernatural is unicorns and fairies

he’s not v acquainted with the darker stuff

honestly doesn’t know why he’s hanging out with them all but he’s just happy to be here

always asks questions about what the boys know or have experienced. he’s really interested and he gets v empathetic

“no taehyung we can’t watch the poltergeist tonight, you know how uncomfortable it makes namjoon and jin” “we hunt these things daily u know that right”

v interested in magic

anything the boys find that involves magic, jimin is 110% hyper focused on the subject

he does his own lil research in his own time but he can’t help reading creepypastas sometimes

he doesn’t know any better ok!!!

also carries snacks but in a backpack bc he really can’t get behind the fanny pack

jin: they’re convenient

jimin: they’re a fashion abomination is what they are

one time they were hunting a monster that jumped out at taehyung and jimin just fuckin

decked it

like no thought just a right hook to the eye(s)

there were multiple eyes and jimin couldn’t stop whining abt the residue on his hand as they ran back to the van to hide

he’s just having a good time with his friends and didn’t really sign up for the monster bit but that’s okay

taehyung

so uh

taehyung can talk to the dead

this has actually been a thing he could do since he was a kiddo and similarly to hoseok, he was shunned for it because nobody believed him

he communicates with past relatives or family friends of his often for his family (who also know and find it kind of lovely what he can do) and sometimes passes on things for the dead to their living family

like he’ll order orange tulips sent to the home of a grieving widow bc her recently deceased husband asked him to do him that favor, something her husband had been planning on picking up for her the day he died

or he’ll quietly look after his classmate whose mother died because he was asked to. he’ll share his lunch with her and make sure she eats because her mother just knows she’s not well

when he met hoseok (who is really the heart of this lil group), he just felt so much relief at finally being understood

he’s really a great mediator for ghosts when they encounter them and he’s so helpful at leading them to the afterlife if needed

he’s really not scared of much to be honest. he finds everything so fascinating

sometimes it drains him being kind of a connect between the human and spiritual world but he’s so glad he was born that way, it’s helped him meet so many wonderful people and he loves who he is

and yeh ok taehyung abuses his power like the lil shit he is sometimes

tae: did you wash the dishes

jk: *clearly lying* yeh

tae: the ghost standing next to you begs to differ

jk: ...for the love of god taE NOT AGAIN

jungkook

ok, like i said,,, dude is an adrenaline junkie

jungkook does not give two flying shits he will deadass fight a headless forest demon in his living room if he has to

jungkook fears no man or god

strongest member so he’s always the one to carry namjoon when he inevitably hurts himself and has to be helped

even tho he’s not easily scared for his own life, he is scared for his family and friends

his worst nightmare is losing any of them to something they hunt

sometimes he’ll line windows and doors in his house with salt discreetly, just enough for it to work and just enough that his mom won’t yell at him for wasting perfectly good salt

is always researching protection spells and things just in case he’ll ever need em, usually consults yoongi for help too

“who do you think would win in a fight between mothman and a wendigo”

genuinely cannot function on an empty stomach and the boys have to stop by convenience stores to buy him like six cups of instant ramen just to satiate him

of course jin has some snacks in his handy fanny pack if needed (and has made painstakingly clear if jungkook mocks said fanny pack that he will be banned from getting snacks from it for the rest of his “measly young life”)

jungkook has some good sense and hasn’t said a word (but he has thought a copious amount, for sure)

[spockri]

Tagged by the ever lovely @nahrky and @pemberley-press

rules:

1. always post the rules. 2. answer the questions given by the person who tagged you. 3. write 11 questions of your own and tag 11 (or however many) people to answer them.

Responses under a cut so I don’t spam your dashboards

1) what time is it where you are and why are you on tumblr at this time of day? 11:45 AM.  I'm at work >:]  I'm supposed to prepare some slides for a meeting but it's Friday and the quarter-end has been rough.  DGAF at this point hah 

2) who are your three favourite characters of all time? Ripley (Aliens), Harry Hart (Kingsman), The Terminator (Terminator 2: Judgment Day) 

3) using your answers from above, fuck, marry, kill? >:) Goddamit. Fuck Harry Hart because he's a beast in bed.  Marry Ripley.  She's my hero and she'll protect me from the Aliens just like she protected Newt <3  Kill the Terminator (obviously).  I can't have him getting hacked and going on a killing spree, ya know?  The thought of marrying or fucking him gives me nightmares LOL 

4) what is something you would really like to eat right now? Donuts.  Donuts are my favorite food group: glazed donuts, fritters, cake donuts, sprinkles.  Krispy Kreme had a special today for a doxen donuts for 80 cents!  The store was PACKED.  Alas, I went to work with empty hands :( 

5) would you describe yourself as smol, medium, or tol? I'm 5'5 so medium?   

6) what’s your go-to drink, alcoholic or otherwise? Coffee.  I try to avoid flavored drinks and sodas and have water most of the day, but coffee is an absolute necessary every morning. 

7) do you play a musical instrument, if so which one? if not which one would you most like to learn? I've played the piano for 15 years :) 

8) what’s the last message you sent to someone? I sent a gif of pikachu slapping pikachu via group text to my co-workers in response to one of their questions (we're really casual here).

9) is there a fandom idea or headcanon you’ve had in your head for a while but not had the opportunity to say? I don't know why, but it just occurred to me that Harry Hart is probably from old money or a prestigous family.  Like the light bulb just clicked in my head even though everyone else probably knew that.  Given Arthur's attitude about Harry's little experiment, Harry's background is probably very elite as well.  The idea of having to meet Harry’s family terrifies Eggsy.

10) coke or pepsi (or neither)? Pepsi!  I always find Coke a little too sweet for me but everyone says they’re the same! 11) do you read tumblr tags? (generally the answer to this is yes but i’m curious) YESSSSS.  Always.  Even if it's a reblog of the same thing over and over again, I read everyone's tags.  They're so entertaining.

1) What are you top 3 guilty pleasure songs? Into You – Ariana Grande: My top guilty pleasure song.  This is my hartwin song LOL Despacito – The JB remix.  I don't usually listen to Justin Bieber, but this song is really catchy even if I can't understand it.   Candy Castles – Glass Candy.  Even though it was super creepy in Westworld, this song is really sexy.   

2) What details would a 30 second film of your life include? Oh god.  Life in Finance is the dullest thing ever.  30 seconds of my life would put people to sleep.  Probably me biking, hiking, spending time with my SO, and sitting still for hours as I read or write fanfics LOL.  It would look like a jpg instead of gif xD 

3) What is something that you know sounds ridiculous but you say it all the time anyway? "They hate us 'cause they anus (ain't us)" and also "same, same, but different".  Both quotes from The Interview.  I say it at work alll the time. My co-workers have even started saying it.

4)  M/F/K 3 of your favorite sitcom characters, Ohh this is hard since I don't watch a lot of sitcoms.   Marry Gilfoyle (Silicon Valley) 'cause he's just so sarcastic and smart.  Plus, if I ever got in trouble, he would be very handy with his hacking skills.  Fuck Detective Jacob "Jake" Peralta (Brooklyn Nine-Nine).  I think Andy Samberg's pretty cute.  Kill Kenny Powers (Eastbound and Down) because he's the most annoying, narcissistic, egotistical character ever (plus that mullet needs to go LOL). 

5) Do you have an OTP or do you ship all the ships? I'm a one pairing at a time kind of gal but I really wish I could like multiple ships because it seems way more fun and you have more material to work with.  I appreciate other ships, but I don't actively read fanfics or participate in conversations about them.   

6) How many times a day do you check your dash? Too many times to count.  It's really shameful.  I have it open at work and when I close the window, I start checking my phone.  I just wanna look at Colin Firth pics all the time, okay? ._.

7) What show do you still grieve for? Sense8.  It was cancelled recently and I know they are going to have one more episode to tie up loose ends, but I'll miss all those characters, especially Lito

8) Who was your first celebrity crush and how did you respond? It would have to be Brad Pitt.  After Interview with the Vampire, I just thought he was so gorgeous and then he went on to make more amazing movies like Se7en, Fight Club, etc.  

9) Most overrated Actor/ Actress in your opinion? Tom Hardy.  I don't have anything aginst him, but I just don't get the hype for him.  His characters have never been memorable to me. 

10) Most underrated Actor/Actress in your opinion? Ben Barnes.  I loved him Chronicles of Narnia but the rest of his movies haven't done very well.  He did Dorian Grey with Colin Firth, which I was really pleased about --Two of my favorite actors together on the same screen!  I was really happy to see him in Westworld, but I'm pretty sure he's not coming back in the second season.  He was one of my favorite characters on the show.  I didn't think he could play a dick character, but he did it so well.  

11) What are your top 3 Guilty pleasure movies? Bridget Jones Diary The Interview Tropic Thunder Apparently my guilty pleasures are really questionable comedies.

Now, Here are some questions for you: 1) Are you a morning person or a night owl? 2) What is your OTP (and you can only pick 1!) and why? 3) What is your favorite thing about Colin Firth? 4) What's your favorite book and how would you recommend it to someone who's never heard of it? 5) Where is your favorite place to read? 6) What was your last impulse buy? 7) What is/was your favorite subject in school? 8) Are you an introvert or extrovert? 9) Do you have any trips/vacations planned this year? 10) What would you do if you saw Colin Firth walking on the other side of the street from you? 11) I probably know you because we're both into Kingsman, so when did you first watch Kingsman and what drew you to it?

Tagging: @cravingcolin @firthsty @hartwinorlose @solarrift @extex1960 @pemberley-press @nahrky @firthsm @collywobblesfirth @platano-yep @arlessiar (I can’t tag your name for some reason?)

(Sorry I play tag backs ‘cause I wanna see your answers LOL)

[buttercuppoison]

no tears here.

buttercup remembers the most vital lesson in being a vampire princess: that sometimes tough loving brings out her most vampiric features. or at least, that’s what her father always said.

( with mentions of @castorpoison )

“you are not a trick-or-treater, buttercup, what are you?? you're a vampire. and the vampire princess of this coven!! you're the oldest and you need to start acting like it. no more collecting candy and playing with masks!! you can't even eat candy!!” the vampire prince yelled. buttercup twiddled her fingers, standing at the very opening of the lobby of the coven's castle. she didn't dare walk in. not when her dad was in this mood.

“but i--”

“but you what?? you collect it in your room and leave it to rot!! and what good use is it up there?? you're a selfish brat because there are actual trick-or-treaters who eat it like it's the holy grail. you're just doing it for the gratification!! you think it's all a contest!! a competition!!”

“you said--”

“yes but for draining blood!! running faster than the witches can fly!! beating the wolfman, the sea swamp monster!! not for trifling distractions!! goddamit, buttercup, it's like you take everything i say and twist it in your little head to fit anything that you want. no wonder you're never going to win any trophies. you're a hopeless case.”

this time buttercup didn't say anything. she took off the mask that she had lifted at the top of her head. holding it in her hands stopped her from fidgeting. she knew her father didn't like fidgeting.

“i don't put any other expectations on you except for this. and you can't even meet up with that. you can't even commit yourself to doing what vampires do best. it's like all this effort that i put into raising you is flying out the window. you're the worst vampire i've ever seen. you should have never been a princess. i don't know what i'm going to do with you.”

buttercup was silent again. her eyes didn't leave the ground.

“am i fucking have a conversation with myself?! is there not another person in the room?? i love it when i talk to myself, you know it really makes me feel good and not crazy at all!! fucking say something, buttercup!!”

buttercup felt like she should apologize, but she was told that vampires didn't apologize. and if she was a bad vampire-- well, she'd start there. “i'll try better next time.”

“is that it?? is that all i get?? fuck you, buttercup. go to your room. why do i even bother talking to you?? you're never going to change.”

buttercup went up without another word. she didn't let her tears spill. no, she didn't dare cry over things like this. not for pride, as so many people would believe. but because she didn't want to be humiliated by her father. the vampire prince never forgets her mistakes. and he always brought them up. he always used them as reasons why she's the worst vampire he's ever seen. and she was sure crying would be on that list.

maybe that's why she cried at everything else. buttercup spent so much time refusing to cry at things that she should have cried at, that she now cried when it was totally unnecessary.

“oh my goodness, cassie!! you did it!! whoo-hoo!!” buttercup called out, cheering as she clapped her hands together. “fucking destroy the next dummy, you got it!!”

the vampire prince stood beside buttercup, watching over castor. buttercup lowered the voice of her cheering.

“he talks to you more than he talks to me.” it wasn't a question or something invasive. it was a statement. and a very true one at that.

“because i make sure he doesn't feel like he's the worst vampire i've ever seen,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“now that's made him reckless, uncontrollable, entitled. you think you're better at teaching him what it means to be a vampire than me??” the vampire prince asked. “i'm not giving you shit for it. but i really think that's a low blow.”

buttercup went silent. she should've cried there. she should've said something. confronted him about all the times that he's made the two vampires feel awful and make them hate themselves, only to spoil them and make them feel like the best people in the world the next day. that was never something that was supposed to happen. it didn't feel right to buttercup. but other people have it worse. so, she stayed silent.

“you think you're better than me.”

“... isn't a vampire princess supposed to think she's better than everyone??” she mumbled, her voice unsure. she hated that it sounded like that. vampires were supposed to be strong and hold her chin up high. but here she was, stuck quivering, fidgeting and unable to keep her eyes off the ground.

the vampire prince scoffed, smirked, and walked away. probably into his quarters in the castle. that was the last conversation buttercup ever had with her father. the next day, she and castor were chosen to get off the isle and thus, halloweentown. the vampire prince didn't see them off.

people have it worse, buttercup keeps reminding herself. every time she felt like she wanted to cry about it, now that she was in auradon, she would think that. she would remind herself that her father would give them feeders of their very own, rather than having buttercup and castor share ( the vampire prince was explicit in saying that he could do that instead ). buttercup always had clean clothes. buttercup could walk outside during the day because her father gave her umbrellas when he didn't have to. they got to take the golden trophies so that they’d have someplace to start when they got there. other people didn't have that. other people went through so much worse.

she didn't go through abuse. the vampire prince just did what he had to do so that buttercup could become the vampire princess she was meant to be. that's all it ever was.