#reblogging cause this is mine lmao

[femmesandhoney]

[the-kipsabian]

[officialgleamstar]

I love watching one of my mutuals go through another mutual’s blog and reblog everything. It’s like introducing an invasive species to a new environment but without the devastating ecological affects

[hongtonie]

tbh it kinda sucks ass how whenever new stuff comes out it’s a race to see who can gif the fastest and only the first ones will get notes

[eldesperadont]

Hey why can someone who i‘ve blocked reblog my posts lmao??

[softgrungeprophet]

assigning the coffee bean gang (in my au where they start college in 2005) actual phones instead of vaguely describing random phones for 2004-2006 stuff

(also laptops) (unnecessarily in-depth)

considering i'm on 2007 now in terms of plot i prob should have done 2007 instead but peter's going to be using his (prepaid/for emergencies) Nokia until the heat death of the universe probably (or at least until it can no longer connect to networks) (unless... he IS getting a BS in engineering...) (no jk i'm sure the fantastic four will hook him up when they give him a suit in 2016) so that's really nbd.

peter's Nokia is obviously an affordable phone designed to be no-frills, durable, and also designed for use with prepaid cards apparently (at least according to wikipedia) so i figured that would fit. it's not the notoriously indestructible 3310 but it's close enough considering most of their phones, including this one, have a reputation for durability, so, also important for a man like peter lol

i picked flash's cause it looked cute and seemed affordable... Like yeah I can see a jocky little closeted queer in 2004 getting that... I just think it looks nice and i can see him using it for a bit. also cause i wanted him to have a flip phone.

MJ's is FLASHY and when i saw it i was like she HAS to have this—the cover is customizable too so it's like. okay. girl. yes. it seems like it comes in other colors, though it was unclear to me which were available in the US, but the white and blue seems like the most common/popular color option and also the other options were all either black/navy/boring or else... blue and red... and as funny as it would be to give MJ a spider-man colored phone i didn't want to do that XD though the white and blue gives me huge johnny storm/fantastic four vibes.

i didn't mean to give all the poor kids Nokias but it turns out that there were not a whole lot of companies making cellphones in the mid 2000s and nokia has a lot of entry-level/affordable phones lol

harry gets the high end sony phone: a fancy camera phone (k700) that he then replaces with that nifty-looking sony walkman swivel phone in the beginning of 2006. plus the white and orange color scheme suits him imo and he seems like he (and mj) would be the most hip to music.

i also didn't intend to give gwen and harry both the same brand of phone but when i saw the z500a i was like... that's JUST "what if gwen was turned into a phone" lmao like the round shapes... the blue color... there she is. and it seems reasonably priced but not cheapo which seems about right for gwen.

i also decided that in the end of 2005 Norman is either gifted (you know, like corporate networking gifts between CEOs) or buys himself a Samsung, Bang & Olufsen Serene phone, which is a very strange, square, business-oriented fashion phone indeed.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serene_(phone)

also it's $1275 which. For a regular clamshell camera phone... IS insane. But it is form over function and he doesn't exactly use it for texting or photos. It's only for calls. Also it's European.

idk if it was ever available in the states but he's norman osborn, he can do whatever the fuck he wants

As far as computers, BOY it was HARD to figure out which laptops were available at what price points in the mid 2000s cause basically everything prior to 2006 on the wayback machine was just not archived all the way or redirected to errors 💀 i spent way too long trying to find a good laptop for flash than is reasonable for something that gets mentioned only every once in a while.

Peter doesn't have a laptop yet, I'm still figuring out when I want him to get one. He's taking some programming classes, but his focus is on materials science and shit like thermodynamics so honestly I think he can scrape by using the school computers and computer labs. I was thinking possibly 2010, especially since he actually has a job then (well, it's part time, but it's more stable than the Bugle stuff on its own) Peter's only source of money from 2005-2009 is like... student loans and Bugle freelance so I'm like, eh.

but for Flash I decided he would have an Acer Aspire, NOT because I have one, because I fucking hate this thing, but because it was the cheapest one I could find scouring the wayback machine mostly fruitlessly. Like. I THINK it's a <$700 laptop. but also. I'm really not sure.

so Flash's dad gets him a 15" Acer Aspire 3000 for his birthday a few months before the gang starts college, so that's the computer Peter is using half of freshman year since Flash lets him borrow it. It's ugly but that's not the point. My main goal for Flash's laptop was "cheap as fuck" cause it may be a birthday present but there's no way his dad paid out the ass for a laptop for his idiot son

Gwen gets a 12" Apple iBook G4 (late 2004). So it's just like. white. The compact size and stuff seems like it would suit her, though the internet says the ibooks had a lot of... problems. I considered giving her a more sciencey laptop but this was a christmas present she got in senior year of high school and her original plan IS a nursing degree so I figure she would just use whatever mid-to-high end computer and she just seems like an apple girlie to me

this was, by the way, apparently Apple's "budget" laptop. But the thing about budget laptops in 2005 was that apparently they were all still $1000. lmao, sorry, "$999."

anyway

Harry gets something EXPENSIVE. And I know what you're thinking—he's a macbook boy right? Well, no, because those didn't exist in 2005. And he's got this GOAL right? He wants to impress his dad, he wants to be Smart like Gwen and Peter, he wants to be the STEM Student with a STEM Student Computer.

So Harry gets a 14" IBM ThinkPad T43.

Which also happened to cost over $2000.

I know that's like, well shouldn't PETER, the ENGINEERING student have that but Peter is poor. Peter is not buying a $2000+ business laptop with a *checks notes* built-in fingerprint reader.

Later on after macbooks are invented (in 2006) and harry is out of college (in 2009) he's definitely going to be the type of person who owns a macbook, and when they introduce rose gold (in 2016) you know he'll be all over that. the ThinkPad is just not very stylish or his speed at all. he's an artist at heart being pushed into a STEM box.

Also at home, he DOES have an iMac. Specifically a PowerMac G5.

Why did I pick that one? Simple: it was the most expensive one i could see on apple's website in the wayback machine.

god apple keyboards are so fucking tiny.

MJ also doesn't have a laptop for similar reasons as Peter (they're fucking expensive and she's poor) but I'm considering giving her one of those compact mini computers in 2006, like, oh you have two phones? No it's actually a PSP—sorry I mean a pocket computer based on PSP technology lmao

talkin about the Sony Mylo COM-1:

LOOK AT IT. It's too groovy not to give her.

also it's cheaper than a laptop by at LEAST $400, and doesn't need a phone plan or anything so it seems like it would be of use to her for instant messaging and stuff. she still has a phone though. she just also has a not-phone-technically-computer that looks exactly like a phone. actually idk if this thing can send calls... did they have wifi calling in 2006? i think so... well either way.

ah, clearly time well spent today.

still don't know when or what kind of computer peter gets. i think i'll just have him build a PC or something later on, when he's in grad school, or maybe a netbook

update: harry is going to buy a macbook air in 2008 and give his thinkpad to peter who will use it until it breaks (and (free?) upgrade it to windows 7 but still be using office 2003 in 2010, as well as having a linux stick cause he's that kind of nerd, and probably openoffice.org) -

BUT I'm still having him build a compact PC in 2010 with hobie's help that should cost <$400 and will run Ubuntu (because he's THAT kind of fucking nerd) (and because Ubuntu is free, otherwise this would not be a <$400 pc) that he mostly uses for homework in his masters program, watching porn—i mean movies, and light stuff, though possibly also may have some kind of CAD software as well... cannot run games but peter isn't a gamer anyway. he's not even much of a programmer or 3d modeler tbh (though he DOES do these things intermittently for spidey stuff)... but being able to do homework at home instead of the library has its upsides (plus he can still use the laptop harry gave him when he's out of the house so he doesn't need to rely on library or computer lab for word processing etc.)

(also he does analog film photography but being able to edit scans of his photos at home is a nice luxury)

[bearseungmin]

not to get ranty considering I no longer write here but also why has my writing retirement immediately shut down feedback and interaction? like I am still a person who logs in here to see what everyone’s up to and what’s been said about my works, but I've only received likes and blank reblogs for almost the last month and a half (except some lovely mutuals who screamed in the tags ily guys) since I announced my leave. it was heartbreaking to see 100+ notifications regularly of just likes when I was active here, and now it’s even worse that no one even replies or sends me asks or even adds tags to their reblogs... please stop acting like I was never here in the first place <3

[halsteadlover]

𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝

*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: Lando always has a hard time trying to keep his hands off you, not even while attending an important event.

• Warnings: dirty talking, lots of swearing, oral sex (m. receiving), semi public sex.

• Word count: 2453.

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE +18. This was supposed to be like a 700 words piece but I’m incapable to write short fics but y’all know this by now lmao. I hope you like this piece, I was inspired to write for Lando so here it is. Please comment, like and reblog, it’d be amazing ❤️ Thank you for your support xx

You were going crazy.

His hand continued to caress your exposed thighs beneath the table, his expert fingers drawing imaginary circles on your hot skin.

They went up along your inner thigh, until they almost caressed your private parts, but before touching you as you desired, his fingers descended back down, leaving you even more irritated and lustful than before.

Asshole.

“God I want you so much baby, you have no idea how much I want to tear this dress off of you,” he whispered in your ear so sensually it made your insides explode, causing a rush of shivers down your spine and made you clench your legs.

“I can’t stop thinking about how wet you must be right now, how easily you’d suck my dick in your sweet little cunt. I’m so hard just thinking about it.” He gave a cast kiss on your flushed cheek, making you choke on the champagne you were drinking and gaining weird and worried looks from the people around the table.

Holy fuck.

You were in fact at the annual FIA gala, the event swarming with famous people, all the drivers with their respective partners but even so Lando didn’t seem to care less.

He was only focused on you, forgetting his surroundings.

He needed to touch you, always, constantly. He needed to feel you, to always have a hand on your body.

And how could anyone blame him?

Lando couldn’t normally keep his hormones at bay but seeing you in that damn dress with that slit, he could barely function and take his eyes off of you. He pretended to have a conversation with Carlos, but in reality he wasn’t listening to a single word his teammate was saying, being too focused on keeping his hard dick at bay.

He tried to hold back the smirk that threatened to appear on his face when you squeezed your thighs together, trapping his hand between them and preventing him from moving it.

“Babe you okay?” He murmured in your ear at one point, turning his attention towards you. He always had that damn smile on his face, that smirk so damn sexy you wanted nothing more than to get on your knees under the table and not care about anything else.

“Lando, you’re driving me crazy. Stop it,” you retorted through gritted teeth, in a low voice so that no one at the table would hear what you were talking about with your boyfriend.

Lando chuckled and removed the hand he had on your thigh and caressed your face with it, then resting it on your partially bare back. “But I’m not doing anything princess.”

“Oh you know damn well what you’re doing and you have to stop,” you repeated, but in the meantime feeling your cheeks burning and the heat running through your body.

Had the temperatures suddenly risen?

Or were you just horny?

Probably the second option.

“I can’t help it princess, you look so fucking hot in this dress,” he whispered, making you smile and your pussy clench at the same time.

And the fact he looked so damn sexy in that suit, so good you just wanted to rip his clothes with your teeth didn’t help make things particularly easy. If Lando struggled not to constantly touch you, you weren’t so different. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t resist him even if you tried and it certainly wasn’t your fault.

It was his fault sex oozed from every single fucking pore of his body.

“I’m already hard as rock right now, you’re not helping if you keep looking at me like that.” His voice caught your attention again, not realizing you were mesmerized by looking at him and running your hungry eyes over his body.

“I’m not looking at you in any way baby, you just look very, very handsome in this outfit.” You seductively battled your lashes. You printed a kiss on his cheek, making your lips slight caress his earlobe. “And very, very fuckable.”

“Fucking hell,” he breathed out, about to combust.

You then placed a hand on his cheek, eagerly wanting to have some physical contact with him It didn’t matter if it was an arm, a hand, or his face, you needed to touch him. His skin was particularly hot and the way his pupils were dilated told you to everything you needed to know.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he admonished you, even though he didn’t want you to stop at all, he just wanted to avoid fucking you on that table in front of everyone.

“Too bad baby, two can play this game.” The little smirk on your painted lips made his legs go numb and it was enough for you to give him a small kiss on the lips, innocent and apparently chaste, to make him completely lose his mind.

“You’re looking at me like you want me to fuck you right here and now.” He wet his lips with his tongue, alternating his gaze between your eyes and mouth.

You nonchalantly shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe I do want you to fuck me right here and now.”

This marked the breaking point for Lando, who at that point lost all judgment and didn’t care that the awards ceremony was about to begin.

“Meet me in the bathroom.” Was all he said before getting up and walking away without even giving you time to respond. You tried to suppress a giggle, every cell in your body twitching in anticipation.

“Woah where is Lando going so fast?” Carlos had asked, turning to you with a confused expression.

“In the bathroom, I think all the water he drank is having an effect,” you replied, meanwhile thinking of an excuse to get up from the table too.

“I’m going to get something to drink.” It was the first thing that crossed your mind, not caring about the confused looks of the others at the table.

“How much you wanna bet they’re gonna fuck in the bathroom?” Daniel announced, sparking laughter from everyone on the table. “God those two go on like rabbits, it’s embarrassing.”

But there was nothing closer to the truth than what Daniel said. You and Lando wanted each other a lot, it was no secret, and your sex life was more than active and intense.

That’s why, you found yourself pressed against the men’s bathroom sink, the door locked and Lando’ body pressed against yours as the two of you kissed with hunger and passion.

His hands, now resting on your cheeks, began to wander down your body, squeezing your breasts, your hips, his fingers pressed deep into your skin.

“Fuck I want you so bad baby,” you murmured as you broke away to take a breath. But he didn’t leave you any respite, his lips had started licking and nibbling your neck, in that precise point where he knew it drove you crazy.

“Shit,” he hissed through his teeth as you began palming the crotch of his pants, feeling him rock hard under your hand.

“Already so hard for me huh?” You whispered sensually, sighing as you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them and his boxers down enough to release his dick.

“Darling I’ve been hard for you since I saw you in this damn dress.” He cupped his hands over your breasts, squeezing and groping them over your dress, making you sigh. He slipped the straps of your dress revealing and you felt him twitch in your hand as you jerked him off, his eyes looking at you with hunger and desperation. “I’m always so hard for you. God you’re gorgeous.”

“Fuck yes…” He moaned loudly and you covered his mouth with your free hand.

“Shh you don’t want anyone to hear us, do you my love?”.

He slightly shook his head, feeling like he was already at his limit just from the way you were looking at him. You removed your hand and he placed his on your face, looking straight into your eyes as your hand continued to move up and down on his dick.

“That’s my good boy.”

He almost came from that sentence alone.

His thumb traced the outline of your lips with which you wasted no time and wrapped them around his digit, always keeping your eyes on him. His gaze was fixed on your lips, the way your cheeks hollowed out to suck on his thumb and you knew where his mind was wandering.

He almost had a heart attack when he saw you kneel in front of him, a smile printed on your lips now devoid of any trace of lipstick and lip gloss.

A loud moan escaped his lips when you stuck your tongue out and traced a long line along his shaft, starting from the base up to the tip where you paused for a few moments while you tasted the saltiness of the precum.

“Shit…” He panted like he was running a marathon, his chest rising and falling quickly. “Stop teasing me.”

“Oh you mean like you did all night?” I retorted with sassy.

“Please baby, please… I need this pretty little mouth…” He begged you, stroking your no longer styled hair with one hand. “I need to fuck this mouth so bad…”

“You look so cute when you beg so desperately for me darling.” You took his dick completely into your mouth, leaving him no room for response and completely taking the air and breath out of his lungs.

He threw his head back, trying to concentrate on not letting himself get too loud since you were still in a public bathroom. But it was hard, so damn hard when your mouth took him so perfectly, when your lips kept sliding back and forth, up and down on his hard dick.

“Shit, shit, fuck yes keep going… Oh yes just like that…” he groaned, gripping your hair in a fist and intensifying the movements of his hips. His tip kept hitting deep into your throat, making you gag and almost choke on it, your eyes watering.

“So pretty… My girl is so fucking pretty while she is on her knees taking me in her mouth so damn well…”

You continued to squeeze your legs with desire, hoping in some way to relieve the tension and desire that made you clench your pussy. Your eyes never left his face, thoroughly enjoying that feeling of being able to make him lose his mind in that way.

You felt immense enjoyment, a rush of euphoria flowed through your veins seeing his face contracted in pleasure, hearing those moans, sighs and pants that only you could give him, and even if he was fucking your mouth without mercy you could’ve even choked to death and you would’ve been the happiest woman in the world.

One of your hands was resting on his hairy bare thigh, your nails pressed into his skin while the other encircled the base of his dick, helping where your mouth couldn’t reach.

“Fuck baby your mouth feels like heaven… Oh my god…” he gasped. “You drive me crazy.”

Suddenly the sound of someone banging on the door startled both of you. You took advantage of that moment to catch your breath, but continued to slide your hand up and down his cock wet with your saliva.

“O-occupied!” Lando exclaimed, swallowing a groan and trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible while his eyes were fixed on you.

God you were so beautiful.

“Hurry up!” The voice replied from the other side of the door and you both breathed a sigh of relief when you heard footsteps walking away. You let out a laugh, but it was interrupted when you started licking his wet dick again, wrapping your lips around his particularly red and sensitive tip and focusing on it as you continued to pleasure him with your hand.

Lando swore he saw stars for a moment, letting out a particularly loud moan and feeling like he was going to explode at any moment. “Oh fuck yeah princess just like that…”

Without leaving you any escape, Lando pushed himself into your mouth again, keeping his grip on your hair, using you as if you were his own doll.

But you didn’t care, on the contrary, you loved the way he used you and always did what he wanted with you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he groaned, moving his hips and making you gag on his dick again, too carried away by the pleasure and euphoria to be able to think clearly. You levered yourself on his thigh, your nails pressed so hard into his skin you feared for a moment you’d leave any permanent mark “Ah shit… I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming… Fuuuck.”

With one final forceful thrust, his hot, salty cum filled your mouth and you wasted no time swallowing it, not particularly enjoying the taste.

“Holy shit I think I’m gonna die,” he sighed in ecstasy, his mouth half open as he tried to catch his breath.

You giggled and started to get up when you felt his hands on your hips helping you to your feet and before you could do anything he kissed you, tasting himself on your lips. You immediately deepened the kiss, circling his neck and threading your hands into his hair, not being able to resist for a minute longer.

“You’re so fucking beautiful love, what do I have to do with you? You make me lose my mind,” he whispered against your lips, then losing himself for a moment looking at you. It wasn’t an exaggeration but you were truly breathtaking. Especially in that moment with your lips swollen due to the amazing blowjob you had just given him, your cheeks red and lined with mascara running from your eyes. God, he couldn’t wait to be buried deep inside you.

“For starters you could fuck me properly Mr Norris.”

He chuckled and you let out a disappointed sigh when he slightly pulled away from you, immediately feeling an empty, cold feeling inside you. He cleaned himself before putting his pants and underwear back on.

“How are you feeling my love? Was I too rough?” He then asked, cupping his hands over your face and removing the traces of mascara with his thumbs as best he could.

You shook your head. “Oh God no baby, it was amazing. You know I love it when you’re rough.”

He gave you a kiss on the lips, so sweet and in contrast to the words he was about to say. “Good baby because now we’re going home and I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for the next few days.”

And man, had he kept his promise.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria, @buckybarnessweetheart, @fanaticlove16

Lando Norris tag list: @halsteadbrasil, @bwormie, @ssprayberrythings, @mynameisangeloflife, @lunepoesie

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[onlyswan]

summary: in which you sacrifice your strawberries and eyelash wishes for the boy knocking at your door.

idol!jungkook x reader, strangers to friends (?) to lovers / fluff and a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: allusions to death and grief / jungkook is a cutie patootie and a blushing hopeless romantic mess / he wants to kiss oc so bad (me too bro) / oc is a sunshine <3 / they do chores and watch movies together :((( / in one scene he was worried oc would think of him as a perv lmao / they’re dorks and i love them / seokjin cameo hehehe

> in which masterlist!

note: to make up for the pain i may have caused and will cause <3 LOL. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing :D as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! come chat w me. ily 🌼

—

“it’s so cold,” you mutter through chattering teeth.

the grocery bags sit on the hardwood table with a thud— the careless bringer too hasty. you shove your icy hands in the deep pockets of your jacket, breathing in and out with a sense of relief.

you are not granted the mundane euphoria for much longer, however. the doorbell rings and you are padding across the floor against your will. the cold air hits your face before it enters your apartment.

however, the happy smile that greets you blankets your heart with a type of warmth that is difficult to describe.

if you had to guess who was behind the door, you wouldn’t say the boy you’ve been fiercely pining over for the past month, but it is certainly who you’d be hoping for regardless.

“good morning!”

“oh! wait there for a moment!”

jungkook stands motionless by your open front door as you disappear into your apartment. confusion accompanied by curiosity, he tries poking his head inside, but then decides that he shouldn’t.

upon your return, his face lights up again.

“here you go!”

he accepts the jar of honey faster than he could think.

“w-why are you-?”

you tilt your head, lips forming a small pout. “isn’t that what you’re here for?”

“uh, actually-” he awkwardly pauses, hand that carries the heavy paper bag behind him suddenly feeling weak. “i came here to give you something.”

your eyes animatedly expand in surprise of the size of it, not at all expecting to receive a gift from him today. you do know that he’s fresh from japan, as you converse on the phone almost everyday… why would he come here almost immediately? and didn’t he say they weren’t given the chance to roam the city because of their work schedule?

“i just grabbed things i thought you might like. i hope i got most of them right?” he explains with a nervous chuckle as you take a look inside.

a diverse array of snacks; a beautiful journal painted with cherry blossoms; a hello kitty plushie; stickers, muji pens…

“oh my god, jungkook… these are too much. you didn’t have to.”

oh, curse the hopeless fluttering of your heart.

“wow, gifting your merch- that’s real idol behavior for you.” you tease him, referring to the hooded jacket that has their group logo on its plastic packaging. “thank you!”

“no but it seriously warms you up! i have one too!”

“jungkook, why are you so cute?!”

“ah, shut up! i’m getting embarrassed!” he whines, blushing. “just look at them later after i leave, how about that?”

“let go! it’s mine!” you glare at him, hugging the paper bag to your chest to deny his advances on snatching it away. “are you not leaving? don’t you have work?”

“i told you— it’s my rest day.”

“you did?”

“while we were texting last night.”

“oh,” you blink. “i don’t remember reading that.”

“you? what are you doing today?”

you bite back the smile threatening to give away the thoughts running in your mind a thousand miles per hour. why does he want to know?

“nothing special. just chores the entire day.”

jungkook puts his hand inside the pocket of his coat, an attempt to appear casual as he offers you his valiant effort. “do you want some help? i’m good at doing chores.”

you stare at him, perplexed, as if he just said the most ridiculous sentence you’ve ever heard in your entire life.

“it’s your rest day and you want to do chores?”

“sure,” he grins playfully, not at all seeing how that could be wrong. “why not?”

“you know…” you pause— observing his expression, considering shutting your mouth, but that plan rarely ever works out. “you can just say that you want to spend time with me, right?”

your bluntness sends his heart racing. you’re a danger to his health.

he sinks his perfect teeth on his bottom lip, bringing his dimples into view. to be honest, you didn’t always have a thing about dimples. you didn’t consider them all that special. but why do they make him look cute and sexy at the same time?

his cheeks become tinted with a pale scarlet. you’re wearing that friendly beam again; he doesn’t know how to act. he never knows whether you are joking or not.

“well, now i know.”

—

jungkook sets down the jar of honey on the table as he settles in the living room, fascinated doe eyes darting around every inch of your place. it’s not his first time here, but somehow, it looks different each time. the two frames hanging above the sofa captures his attention all over again, colorful drawings against the plain white wall. gifted to you by your siblings, you said.

a tall castle with a happy family. a little boy slaying a dragon to protect a princess from its savage fire.

he is blissfully unaware of the knowledge that the drawings are the lone survivors of a school bus and a tragedy. you want it to stay that way. you want people to feel the opposite of the sadness you feel when you look at them. that is how you seek your peace.

“are you wearing toe socks?”

“huh?” he makes a sound of confusion, only processing your question upon seeing your gaze trained to his feet. “ah- toe socks- yes.”

“i’m only noticing them now. they look funny.” you scrunch your nose, chuckling.

“don’t laugh! they’re so comfortable!”

“really?” your eyes widen with genuine interest. “i should try them then.”

“yeah, you should!”

he whips his head around as he jokingly voices out an observation.

“but ____, your house kind of looks different today… it’s almost like it’s cleaner than the last time i was here.”

you bury your face in your hands with a high-pitched wine, hiding from him in humiliation. you did not plan on inviting someone over that night, and he had to watch you run around organizing and picking up things— the scattered books all over the table and the floor; the jackets that have created a big heap on the small couch; the jewelry box that ended up on the dining table for some reason.

he laughs in endearment, unable to take his eyes from you. even the way your hair bounces as you furiously shake your head is pretty. wait, does that sound weird?

“that’s right, it should look different! the first thing i did when winter break started was clean up my mess.”

“what’s the first chore on the list then?” he catches the grocery bags in the kitchen from his peripheral. “were you putting away your groceries?”

“you really want to do chores? you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”

“aigoo, it’s fine!” he waves off your reluctance. “stop worrying! i already said i’d help you.”

“but it’s embarrassing…”

it’s either jungkook is denying your advances or he is simply dense. but the fact that he showed up at your door unannounced on his day-off despite complaining about his exhaustion from their hectic work schedule, you want to lean towards the latter and believe that he is… as good at chores like he claims to be.

“you must like fruits a lot.” jungkook comments as he is squatted infront of your fridge, sheltering the freshly bought perishables one by one.

kimchi, lettuce, strawberries, tangerines, shine muscat, apples…

this is an entirely different world through your lens.

it feels strange to watch another person restock your fridge for you.

“they’re easy to eat and i’m lazy to cook.”

he chuckles as he looks back at you, who is sat on the dining table, airy and carefree as you snack on a bag of assorted chocolates from the paper bag he brought. almost all of the white chocolates are gone, he notes.

“not because they’re nutritious?”

“that’s the bonus!”

“what is this?”

“cranberry juice.”

“and this?”

“oyster sauce.”

you energetically hop off the table, an idea lighting up the bulb in your mind.

“i have another recipe for you. french toast with strawberries, then drizzle some of the honey. should i make it for you?”

“ah!” he gasps as if he is in pain, but the truth is his mouth is watering. he hasn’t eaten breakfast, and he wanted to eat more for dinner last night but sleep proved to be much more enticing than food. “that sounds so good! i’m starving!”

“stand up!” you begin pulling at the back of his sweater, forcing him to remove himself from the floor. “i’ll make it! just go relax in the living room, okay?”

“but you just said you’re lazy to cook.” he tilts back his head, meeting your gaze. “i’ll help you.”

“i’m not lazy when it becomes to being a host.”

you bend down with a sweet smile, merely inches away from him, and jungkook swears the earth has stopped spinning on its axis. your face is natural and bare, except for the sheen of lip balm across your lips— and dear heavens, having you this close, you are so breathtakingly beautiful.

“they’re playing christmas movies on channel 36.” you announce, giving him the bag of chocolates. “and the remote is… somewhere on the sofa… or maybe the floor.”

and as he gets practically kicked out of the kitchen, your hands roughly pushing his back, he daydreams of kissing you and tasting sugar on your lips.

—

the sweet, addicting smell of the french toast— strong hints of butter and cinnamon— invades every corner of your apartment. consequently, it also compels jungkook to break your rules and insert himself in the kitchen again.

“you never give up, do you?”

“i don’t,” he agrees, nodding eagerly. he has successfully stolen the task of washing the strawberries, and then slicing them after. he endures the freezing water rendering his hands numb. “it’s a known fact.”

“are you saying i should study harder?” you cross your arms, expression painted with faux vexation.

“yes! exactly!” he humors you, grinning of amusement. “what’s my favorite color?”

you sigh, looking at him from head to toe.

“anyone can guess that from a mile away, jungkook.”

“fuck, okay. that’s fair!”

the sound of his laughter reminds of you reasons to stay through the cycle of the seasons. you don’t understand why, but for some reason, it has finally begun to feel like christmas. the only comfort that comes along with the cruel winter that nips at your skin; the blanket over your heart that provides a type of warmth one can travel to seek but will never be able to find alone.

“what’s my height then?”

“aren’t you six feet?”

the silence that follows is an answer enough for you. the noise of the television emerges now that none of you is talking. he pretends to be too busy to speak, transferring the strawberries over to the chopping board.

“yes, you’re ri-”

“liar!” you point an accusatory finger at him.

and he winces, guilty as charged.

“you hesitated!”

“tsk, i should’ve said yes faster! i wanted to experience what it’s like to be tall!” he regretfully purses his lips, eyebrows knitted as if he just lost the lottery. “but haven’t you read it online? even my shoe size and weight are there.”

“what? why do people even need to know that…?” you exclaim, flabbergasted. “i mean- of course i’ve searched up your name, but it feels like cheating on a test. does that sound silly…? it’s just more fun learning about you from you.”

you briefly walk away to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and jungkook is left at the counter with fondness blossoming in his chest, bleeding into the chopped strawberries staining his hands red.

he calls out your name.

“mhmm?” you hum in question, muffled by the water in your mouth.

“want to hear a fact about me?”

you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, eyes expanding with fueled interest. “what?”

“i’m actually very good in the kitchen.” he boasts his skills with the kitchen knife, quick and precise, the blade against the wood creating the satisfying click you usually only hear from cooking shows. “are you seeing this? huh…? what do you think?”

“so i’ve noticed. i want something new!”

at that, his shoulder sags in disappointment. to his demise, there goes another failed attempt at making you acknowledge that he is boyfriend material.

“what do you want to know? ask me questions.”

“what’s your ideal type?”

being in your presence for the past hour has gotten jungkook re-adjusted to your personality— straight-forward, bold, smart— so vivacious that it’s dizzying. you make him nervous and comfortable at the same time, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain it either. but you’re a breath of fresh air, the change that he has been anticipating to disrupt his routine.

“why do you want to know that?”

you shrug coyly, smiling like the troublesome vixen that you are. you rather enjoy the tension that has hung in the air. if you’ve learned something from the past: men are easy to get, not easy to keep. because they relish in the chase, getting strung along like this. so, shouldn’t you have your fun too? but even if jungkook’s intentions were pure, you can only imagine that seeing someone whose life revolves around their career is… the perfect recipe for disaster.

“i think who you like also says a lot about who you are as a person.”

“i like someone who is kind and funny…” he hums in thought, unconsciously slotting a piece of strawberry in between his lips. “and passionate about the things they love… mhmm, someone who can be honest with me.”

his words form a constellation named after you, unbeknownst to you, and he wants to say more but anticipating what comes next after you connect the dots makes his stomach twist. he doesn’t feel like an adult yet. he’s still just a young boy with a gorgeous crush and high ambitions that coalesce in his dreams.

“i like someone who has a really pretty smile, too.”

and he should probably stop staring, erase the dumb lovesick smile on his face. for fuck’s sake, it would be easier for him if you would just do the same. behind the sparkles of your eyes, there is something he’s been dying to decipher.

“okay, why are you looking at me like that?”

because you are so pretty, especially when you smile.

“nothing,” he replies innocently. “you? what’s your ideal type? who do you like?”

“i don’t know… no one has captured my heart yet. they’re not trying hard enough!”

every romance you’ve had so far has been a letdown.

“but i’m still looking. i’m young, and hot, and the universe is vast.”

“mhm, i see… that’s true, but maybe… you don’t want to be looking too far.” jungkook suggests.

you smirk. “so you agree that i’m hot?”

“you know. you don’t need me to say it.” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“but i want to hear you say it.”

“you’re very beautiful, ____.”

“but that’s not-”

“the food is ready! let’s eat it before it gets cold!”

he runs to the living room without waiting for you, and you seize the opportunity to squeal without a sound, punching the counter without actually punching— releasing the giddiness threatening to spill from the seams of your heart.

you don’t know if this is heading somewhere, nor do you expect it to, but where you are right now is a good place to be.

—

the movie playing on the screen has become more of a white noise to you, a family comedy far less fascinating compared to jungkook drizzling honey over strawberries and bread from a spoon. you wonder if he is aware how often he creates sound effects while he is doing something.

beside you, his body quakes with cackles during the scenes that an editor would definitely insert the classic sound of an audience’s collective laughter and holler. you stumble upon the understanding that his happiness lies in a myriad of things, and you would envy him for it if not for the fact that he is currently sharing that happiness with you. you laugh when he laughs, and being becomes a little less heavier at that moment.

another commercial break rudely interrupts and jungkook turns towards you. the two of you sit cross-legged, knees knocking against each other as you occupy nearly the entire sofa.

“hi!”

“hi.”

“what are your plans for the holidays?”

“my best friend’s family invited me to stay with them for christmas until the new year. it’s kind of been a tradition since…”

the end of your sentence hangs suspended in the air. you still can’t say it out loud.

jungkook knows they’re gone and you’re alone: only the plain and brutal truths.

the reminder that this is the third christmas you will not spend with your family; the thought that this would be the third christmas they would spend without you if the afterlife was real— they bring tears to your eyes at once, but you forcibly blink them away, shoving enthusiasm down your throat.

“how about you?” you take a bite from your toast, attempting to divert your thoughts to… anything else. “are you coming home?”

you hide so well behind a smile. it doesn’t occur to jungkook that his question rubbed salt on an open wound.

“i miss my mom but i can’t go home yet.” he pouts. “i have work on christmas day as usual. we’ve been preparing hard for it.”

“oh, that’s right! gayo daejeon?!”

he nods in confirmation.

the music festival has been an annual event for his group since they debuted, and he never feels the need to complain because not everyone is given this kind of opportunity. what’s extraordinary for most has become his ordinary, and what was once his ordinary like everybody else’s has simply become a thing of the past. nevertheless, he does not have regrets. he is living a good life, one that he believes is his fate. as long as he has a voice and it is being heard, then his existence has meaning.

“your family will surely watch you, so they’re still celebrating it with you in a way. making them proud is the best christmas gift you can give!”

and right now, in his life, you are the cherry on top. you were so cheerful and supportive about the final shows of their tour as well, raving about how amazing it is to perform three nights in a row at gocheok skydome.

“i’ll watch you too!”

he can’t help it— you’re driving him to be better at what he does. childishly, he wants show off and be the one to capture your heart.

“ah!” he groans. “that means i should work harder at practice tomorrow! i can’t mess up infront of you and my family!”

“why not me? you want to make me proud too?” you interrogate him jokingly.

“of course, it’s my job. it’s what i do best. i’ll make you see!”

“use me as motivation then. you can’t mess up, okay? you have to do well, jungkook! you better not make a mistake! my eyes will be focused on you only!”

his face is reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights— the headlights being your wide, threatening eyes.

he releases a shaky sigh in dramatic fashion. “i don’t feel motivated, though? i’m getting pressured?”

you wheeze; the plate over your lap tilts along with its contents.

“this is tough love!”

jungkook nearly staggers to his feet. “…love?”

you roll your eyes, small corners of your lips still cheekily lifted. “was the french toast good?”

jungkook is interrupted before he can form a response.

“but if it tastes like shit, just lie to me!”

“what are you talking about?!”

oh my god, you’re too fucking good at making him laugh.

“you’re eating it too! you know it’s delicious!”

“maybe you got a bad batch!”

—

“i’m going to the laundry shop across the street. i’ll just be a minute.” you announce, hauling a laundry basket to the living room.

your strained grunts prompt jungkook to look up from his phone, and eventually to stand up with urgency and relieve you of your heavy, heavy burden.

“shit, how heavy is this?”

you’re not given a chance to protest as the basket is immediately stolen from your grasp; your lips part open but no words come out.

“i’ll come with you!”

“well, hopefully not more than twelve kilos.”

it’s definitely heavier than usual; mainly comprised of the thick and layered clothes you’ve been wearing to shield yourself from the unforgiving cold.

“let’s go.”

jungkook wraps his hand around your wrist, gently tugging. the butterflies in your stomach wakes up earlier than spring’s arrival.

“this thing is bigger than you.”

an extremely obvious exaggeration.

“i’ll be the one to carry it.“

—

jungkook wears a cap and a face mask underneath his hoodie, eyes barely even visible in his all-black getup for the public to see; and somehow you also find yourself with a scarf around your neck, pulled up over the bridge of your nose.

when the year 2017 rolled in, you predicted that more crazy, life-altering stuff would happen. it has been an on-going theme, a relentless domino effect that has brought you to your knees time and time again. but you never would’ve fucking imagined that this is how you would be wrapping it up. how the hell did you cross paths with a famous idol, and why is he carrying your laundry basket right now?

“wait here for a bit.” you bring both hands to the basket’s handles, coaxing him to let go. “i’ll just bring it inside.”

“are you only dropping it off? that’s expensive!”

“what?” you stare at him in bewilderment, not expecting him to utter such statement at all. “you’re talking like you’re not rich!”

“i’m not! and still,” jungkook becomes flustered underneath his disguise. “it’s good to be practical. anyway, we have a lot of time.”

“you sound more like a mom than my mom did.”

“shhh!” he shushes you, putting a finger over his face mask. “let’s just do your laundry ourselves.”

“why would you do laundry right now? you’re supposed to be resting in the first place!”

a tug of war ensues infront of the laundry shop. strangers doesn’t know better. you look like a married couple bickering over who should take responsibility of the chore.

“____, just let me, mhm? i’m a pro at doing laundry too! we’ll be done before you know it!”

“how are you good at everything? honestly, it sounds like a scam!”

“how dare you doubt me?” he gasps in offense. “i do my own laundry!”

“seriously?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“i’m serious!”

“i don’t think i believe you, though…”

“if you search online, you-” your voice echoes in his mind, and subsequently, jungkook cuts himself off.

‘it feels like cheating on a test. it’s more fun learning about you from you.’

“oh, nevermind. let’s go inside already. i’m freezing!”

“jungkook!” you whine, stomping your feet on the ground as you refuse to let go of the basket despite jungkook beginning to head inside.

“why?” he copies the childishness of your tone, and although you can’t see his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you enough.

“we can’t…”

the adorable sight of you appearing to be so shy is foreign to him. he can’t help but to chuckle. “why not?”

your lips form a pout.

“my panties…”

you bring a finger to point at the basket.

“they’re in there too… i was only going to drop them off today because you came with me…”

“ah…” jungkook awkwardly freezes, unblinking. “wait, you’re right?”

why didn’t he think of that? he’s a fucking idiot. of fucking course. what if you take things the wrong way and you’re creeped out by him now?!

“fuck, sorry. i’m sorry. i wasn’t- um, i swear i wasn’t trying to…”

his tongue becomes tied, struggling to search for the words that won’t make him sound like a damn pervert.

yeah, way to go, jungkook. you’re not the fucking boyfriend yet and you’re ruining your chances.

“did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry. it probably looked li-”

“hey, breathe, calm down. it’s alright, jungkook.”

you giggle in amusement, placing a hand over his chest— his heart. it’s meant to ease him, but the knowledge that you’re feeling his racing heartbeat only causes it to further intensify. he swallows the lump in his throat, dumbfounded by the turn of events. he wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he also wants to stay in this moment a little while longer.

“it’s alright. i’ll go bring this inside then i’ll treat you to lunch at the restaurant over there! don’t run away from me, okay?”

—

“the yukgaejang looks good.” you utter absentmindedly, admiring the spicy beef soup with plentiful vegetables from afar. “i’m jealous of you.”

the other tables are already having a feast while you and jungkook are waiting for your take-out to be prepared.

“then you should’ve ordered it too.” jungkook scolds you lightheartedly. “should i go?”

“no! i’m not good with spicy food. spice makes me cry.”

he smiles softly. once again, you complete the picture from his eyes. “what is there to frown so sadly about?”

“i feel like i’m missing out.” you complain, the pout on your face almost permanent. “spicy food is like one of the trademarks of korea, you know? but i can’t handle it!”

“so cute…” jungkook has decided to give in to his impulses, it seems— the evidence is him pinching your cheek for the very first time, and with the discovery of its delightsome softness, it will definitely not be the last.

“oh, oh, oh! an eyelash!”

his doe eyes glisten with pure wonder and excitement, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended when his hand moves to tenderly cup the side of your face. as he is absorbed in capturing the tiny eyelash that has fallen and glued itself on your cheek, your mind reels with the size of his hand, the sensation of his innocent touch against your neck.

“aaand-” jungkook takes your hand, passing on the eyelash to your index finger. “there you go. make a wish!”

your eyes flicker down, and none of you speaks for a moment or two.

a wish…?

what does one wish for when they have given up on wishing for miracles?

“did you do it?”

you peek at jungkook, nodding. at last, you blow the eyelash away, outside the window, where it becomes one with the snowflakes that came from the same sky where wishes are supposedly granted.

“what did you wish for?”

“i’ll tell you when it comes true.”

—

jungkook eats so well— you feel full just by watching him eat. so when he asked you, eyebrows knitted and legs bouncing, if he could have more rice, you were left with no choice but to plug in the rice cooker for the second time today. you cooked only enough for two meals today: brunch and dinner for one. you’re more than happy to have given him the dinner portion. you like that your apartment is providing warmth for another soul, despite the old times that it housed ones that ended up haunting you.

“are there any more chores to do? while we wait for the rice?”

you gaze switches from him to the living room.

the boy who was knocking at your door is now vacuuming your floors.

you sit on the couch with your legs hugged to your chest, chin propped on your knees. an unexplainable feeling swims in your chest, but your heart calls to welcome it. not to be delusional, but technically, isn’t this a marriage proposal?

it falls on dear ears— the infuriating sound of the cheap vacuum cleaner your landlord lended you and never came back for. underneath it is jungkook’s mellifluous voice, humming and singing, and it’s all you can hear.

the only use you knew of honey is the magic it does with tea for a sore throat. when you learned about his demanding occupation, he is all you can think of in relation to the elixir. since then, you’ve been taking the god awful amount of honey your pesky neighbor provides without any complaints.

this is nice… this is good. you are glad that you opened the door.

—

after a hearty and satisfying meal, you and jungkook retired to your previous spots infront of the television screen. more of the snacks he bought for you ended up being shared. near your stacks of books are colorful food wrappers and half-empty glasses of water. two mediocre yet entertaining movies later, you tell jungkook that you should pick up your laundry before the shop closes in an hour. however, after he has excused himself to the bathroom, he is greeted by the sight of you peacefully asleep on the sofa.

once more, a new side of you is laid bare, and his affection grows. he doesn’t know when he can admire your face this close again without melting from your stare.

heedful of disturbing your much deserved rest, he carefully places a pillow beneath your head, and he pulls down the blanket you’re wrapped in to cover your cold feet.

with one last stolen glimpse, he grabs your key and receipt from the bowl and leaves.

—

“is it time for you to leave?” you delicately rub at your eyes that are still half-closed; voice quiet, barely there.

you were awoken by the front door opening and closing, but nothing has quite registered to your fuzzy brain yet, except for the coat that you neatly kept and is already re-worn by its owner.

and he knows you’re most probably just sleepy, but the way you’re gazing at him as if you’re sad to see him go makes his heart clench.

“no, i picked up your laundry.” he enlightens you, consciously speaking with refined tenderness, as to preserve the serenity that has enveloped the atmosphere. “i can stay until eight. is that okay?”

you release a weary sigh, nodding. “of course… and you’re such a nice friend, thank you.”

he plops down on the sofa, filling the jungkook-shaped space beside you.

tired… you’re so tired… despite the given privilege to finally sleep to your heart’s content, you’re still so tired. your forehead lands softly on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you due to your stupor, jungkook’s breath hitches— the polar opposite of the steady rise and fall of your chest. you make him swoon. he deliberately ignores the fact that you just called him a friend.

you peer down at the floor, past the curtain of your disheveled hair, slowly blinking. those ridiculous toe socks… you giggle in secret.

“jungkook?”

“yes?”

“are you cold?”

“freezing.”

you lift your head and he knows— you have to be playing games with his heart, bringing the temptation to kiss you so painfully close. “do you want some tea?”

—

the performance has commenced but the passionate screams of the audience still rings in jungkook’s ears as he runs backstage, chased by the staff attempting to wipe the sweat he is practically bathing in. he squeezes one eye shut as beads of sweat threaten to enter it. his chest heaves with exhaustion and his heart pumps with overwhelming adrenaline. most of the time, this job doesn’t feel real. he feels high. this is the textbook definition of a dream.

“where’s my phone? please? does anyone have it?” he yells in the midst of the chaos and clamor as he completely strips off his in-ears.

a hand reaches towards him with the device, and his expression of gratitude gets lost somewhere among the repetitive reminders of the remaining time before they should have returned to their designated seats.

he allows the hair and make-up stylists to do their jobs, him as their doll in need of a retouch. on the other hand, he impatiently waits for his phone to power on.

the tapping of jungkook’s foot ceases, and from his glowing reflection on the vanity mirror, the clueless people surrounding him witnesses love strike.

guess my eyelash wish worked like a charm. your performances went really well

and you looked so cool on stage ☺️

merry christmas jungkook ❤️

“jungkook-ah, what are you smiling at?!”

seokjin cackles. jungkook didn’t even notice him roll his chair so close. he then decides to play dumb to tease their youngest one.

“wow, who is this ____ you’re texting?”

“hyung!” jungkook panics, hissing underneath his breath. “lower your voice!”

“ouch!” seokjin yells, rubbing his arm that was hit as a punishment.

he allows a moment of silence.

his expression goes blank and he avenges himself.

“ah!” jungkook gasps as the slap on his thigh resonates, forced to be ripped away from overthinking a text message. “hyung! you better start running!”

Draft: i know it’s late.. but can i see you later?|

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[soulaires]

I need me some Kenji kishimoto fics!!! Maybe like he's drunk and aarom calls u so u so u have to pick him up and he's being a lil suggestive and goofy and fluffy and stuff!!!

My Girl.

pairings: kenji kishimoto x f!reader

summary: kenji is drunk and absolutely have no brakes.

warnings: ooc, alcohol, drunk, suggestive themes.

« words: 1,659 ┇ao3┇reblogs are appreciated! »

authors note: I know this ask is ages ago but i just cant write something very similar to my old one so I did some twist to make it different. Enjoy! Also not proofread and I wrote this at midnight. Excuse it lmao.

Kenji had always been a tough nut to crack, but that night, the alcohol had done its magic, leaving him in a state of blissful inebriation. He, along with Aaron and  Adam, had gathered for a boys' night out. 

Kenji had decided it was high time for a boys' night out. He'd invited his best buddies, Warner and Adam, for a night of fun and revelry. Little did they know that Kenji had a surprise in store for them, something that would shatter their preconceived notions and send their jaws dropping. They didn't know that you and Kenji had been secretly dating for a while.

As the night progressed, Kenji became increasingly intoxicated, his inhibitions fading away like smoke in the wind. He couldn't help himself, and in his drunken state, he decided to let the cat out of the bag. With a wide, goofy grin, he began to regale his friends with stories about his amazing girlfriend (you).

"Guys, guys," he began, clearly intoxicated already, "you won't believe it, but I have the most amazing, pretty, talented, and hot girlfriend in the world!"

"I'm the luckiest guy, seriously." He slurred, leaning heavily on his friend's shoulder.

His friends exchanged bewildered glances. Adam chuckled, "Kenji, man, you've had one too many. Are you sure you're not just imagining this incredible girlfriend of yours?"

Warner and Adam exchanged incredulous glances, thinking that Kenji was simply caught up in the moment, or perhaps he was just too drunk to know what he was saying. "Come on, kishimoto," Warner chuckled, "you've had a few too many. Are you sure you're not just... imagining things?"

Kenji, however, was adamant. "No, I'm not making this up, guys. I'm serious. She's real, and she's mine!"

Adam chimed in, clearly amused, "Well, we've known you for a while, Kenji, and you've never mentioned a girlfriend before. Are you sure you're not delusional?"

Kenji shook his head vigorously, causing his unruly hair to flop around. "No, I'm not imagining. She's real, and she's mine!"

Warner, never one to care, chimed in, "Come on, kishimoto. You've been known to exaggerate when you've had a few drinks. You’re just being delusional."

"No, no, no!" Kenji insisted. "I'll prove it to you guys. I'll call her right now!"

Kenji clumsily fished his phone out of his pocket, fumbling with the buttons and nearly dropping it on the floor. He scrolled through his contacts, searching for the one name that meant the world to him. Finally, he found it— My Pretty Girl 🤍.

With unsteady hands, Kenji pressed the call button, the phone ringing in his ear. He leaned back and grinned at his friends, pride bubbling in his drunken heart. "You'll see!"

As his fingers danced across the screen, Warner and Adam watched with growing skepticism. They fully expected Kenji to dial a random number or play a prank on them. However, they couldn't have been more wrong.

Kenji, with a triumphant grin, put his phone on speaker mode as the call connected. Suddenly, a sweet and soothing voice filled the room, uttering, "Kenji? Baby? Do you need me to pick you up now?"

Warner and Adam exchanged a perplexed glance before their eyes widened in shock. The voice on the other end sounded awfully familiar, and the nickname 'Baby' was a clear giveaway.

Kenji beamed with delight, staring at his friends. "See! I told you she's real!"

Adam recovered from his shock first, shouting, “YOU ARE DATING Y/N ???”

Kenji ignored their comments and continued talking to you. "Pretty girl, I miss you."

You couldn't help but smile. "I miss you too, Kenji. Do you need a ride home?" 

Kenji's eyes sparkled as he leaned closer to the phone, his voice laced with a hint of flirtation. "I need more than just a ride home, Y/N."

As the night came to a close, Kenji's friends decided it was time for him to go home. He was, after all, unable to stand on his own at this point. Kenji's intoxication levels continued to rise. 

Kenji had other plans, though. He was in high spirits and wanted nothing more than to see you. "I need my baby. I can't stand being away from her" he declared, much to his friends' amusement. 

When it was finally time to leave, Warner knew they couldn't leave Kenji alone in his state. He grabbed Kenji's phone and scrolled through his contacts to find the number saved under "My Pretty Girl 🤍."

The call is connected, and your voice on the other end can be heard. "Kenji? Is everything okay?"

“Hey, Y/N, it’s me. Come pick your drunk boyfriend up before he embarrasses himself.” 

“Oh Warner, hey. Yeah I’ll pick him up. Please give him water to drink to sober up.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, voice thick with sarcasm. 

When you arrived, Kenji was in no condition to stand, let alone walk. He practically lunged at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck. "You're amazing," he slurred, his warm breath tickling your skin. "So pretty. So hot."

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a warmth in your heart. "Thank you, kenj."

As Kenji stumbled toward you, he was all smiles, his neediness and clinginess on full display. He hugged you tightly, whispered sweet compliments in your ear, and planted tender kisses along your neck.

You couldn't help but smile, your heart filled with love for this man who, even in his most inebriated state, couldn't contain his affection for you.

As you left the bar, Kenji couldn't keep his hands off you. He was floating, and every step was punctuated by laughter, stolen kisses, and playful touches.

He kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm. 

"You're so pretty," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear as he placed sweet kisses on your neck. "So, so pretty." 

You couldn't help but blush at his compliments, despite knowing that he was under the influence. Kenji, always the charming one, had now added a touch of playfulness to his usually affectionate nature. You decided to tease him a little. "Kenji, are you trying to sweet-talk your way into getting a ride home?" 

Kenji let out a soft, tipsy chuckle, his lips grazing your earlobe. "Mhm, no. A way to make you scream my name tonight, though."

"Kenji, you're a mess," you chuckled, wrapping your arms around him as he swayed slightly.

"I'm not a mess, I'm a masterpiece!" he declared proudly, peppering your face with a series of sloppy kisses.

As you guys made your way towards the exit, Kenji kept stealing glances at you, his compliments flowing as freely as the liquor in his veins. "You're the most beautiful person in the world, you know that, right?" he slurred. His words were genuine, even if they were slightly incoherent.

The journey from the bar to the car was a wobbly one. Kenji couldn't seem to walk in a straight line, and he insisted on holding your hand with a grip that told you just how much he needed your support.

Once you guys were safely ensconced in the car, Kenji wasted no time in attempting to become one with the passenger seat. "I love this car," he mumbled as he hugged the headrest.

His antics didn't stop there. Kenji kept stealing kisses every few minutes, his lips landing anywhere they pleased – your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your neck, your hands, even your ear. It was all rather comical and sweet, in a completely ridiculous way. "You taste like strawberries and sex" he remarked with a dreamy look in his eyes.

The car finally came to a halt outside you and his shared apartment building, and Kenji's drunken demeanor was still in full swing. He insisted on being carried upstairs, which was a considerable feat considering his weight. 

When you arrived home, Kenji clung to you, reluctant to let you go. He peppered your face with kisses, laughing and whispering sweet nothings.

Kenji, now sitting on the couch, looked at you with puppy dog eyes. "I need more kisses," he pouted, his bottom lip sticking out.

You couldn't help but oblige. His neediness was endearing, and even though he was drunk, you couldn't resist his affection. 

As you kissed his forehead, down to his cheeks, nose and to his lips, he quickly deepened it, a groan falling from his lips as he pulled you closer to him, sitting you to his lap.

"Kenji.. we can't. You are drunk" you said as you pulled away, while your boyfriend chased your lips.

"But baby, I need you right now, please. I fucking need to feel you." He insisted. 

"We can't. You are drunk, love" 

"My pretty baby, my best girl, my baby doll. Let me take care of you, please. I just need you so bad.." he begged you once again and you could not help but to let out a whimper. 

"I know you want to, princess." 

"Not when you are clearly drunk, okay?" You reasoned out and he pouted. He fucking pouted.

So, you stood up, playing 'Dancing Queen' by Abba as you invited him to dance.

The living room turned into a make-shift dance floor as you guys swayed to the melody, his head resting on your shoulder.

He began to mimic the bizarre dance moves of a famous pop star, twirling around the room with an exaggerated flair that left you both in fits of giggles. "I should audition for 'Dance moms,' don't you think?" he teased, striking a ridiculous pose.

As the hours passed, Kenji's antics faded, and he succumbed to the heavy pull of sleep. You tucked him into bed, his face still wearing a contented smile, and you could not help but smile back.

[jumblekinz]

unspoken/"secret" webkinz tips (feel free to reblog and add!)

trash appears in the park every 5 minutes - usually, the more pets in the park, the more trash appears

when playing cash cow 2, you want to keep the chocolate milk bottle on the screen! do not try and get rid of it. I didn't know this until I was like 18 lmao cause I never read instructions

when playing zingoz switcherooz, it's super risky and usually doesn't pay off to make a gap in your block of zingoz - even if it's the only move you have (I tried to illustrate this below). it may give you more zingoz for that move, but it's going to leave a hole where your opponent can switch all the zingoz you just got back over to their color. that said, if your opponent makes a gap, take that spot immediately

no, you're not going insane if you're playing checkers in the tournament arena and your opponent's checker moves onto a spot where there's already a checker - this is a glitch and has been glitching forever

another common glitch is text speech not working in the kinzchat+ clubhouse when trading - you may have to exit the trade or even the clubhouse and come back to it

some of the higher level classes in the kinzville academy get insanely hard - for classes like grooming or style, take screenshots or pictures with your phone so you have a reference picture

you can also take pictures for some employment office jobs! I usually screenshot where the gems are for the gem mining job because I swear it doesn't give you enough time otherwise

if you need more time when doing the kinzville mover job, you can hit the 'x' to quit, which brings up a pop up box. you can then still move the boxes behind the pop up!

when a deluxe membership only game is game of the day, anyone can play it - you don't have to be deluxe!

when your pet's hunger meter is full (i.e., when they are full/not hungry) you can feed foods to your pet and the food will not disappear but it will count toward quests that are like "feed your pet 5 hot chocolates"

[thisismeracing]

King of my heart | MS47 | part. 03

Pairing: hamilton!reader (she/her) x mick schumacher

Warnings: curse words, twitter environment, mention of food, not proofread etc etc. Minors DNI!

summary: some things are not passing unnoticed by the fans, Y/n and Mick are getting closer and bolder with their interactions and some people seem to be into discovering and watching all this unfold.

a/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me and I do not give permission for it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

part. 02 | series masterlist | part 04

theofficialyn posted on her stories

theofficialyn

liked by sza, mercedesamgf1, and others

theofficialyn It was not bring-your-dog-to-work day, just roscoe-misses-you-and-I-need-a-babysitter day, turned out to be one of my best days in the Paddock hahaha

view all 4,209 comments

charlescarlos The way Angie Schumacher is looking at you I just know she's in love like her dad jajaja

⤷ user20 no, but why did I have the same impression

charles_leclerc we need a Yn-appreciation day

⤷ estebanocon I'm gonna tell your nutricionist you're eating donuts in the morning

⤷ theofficialyn It was after lunch, it's not considered morning!!!! 🙄

⤷ sainzf1 their dynamic looks so chaotically funny lmao I would love to watch all the interactions

ynraindrops Who did you have breakfast with? I spot a second plate...

⤷ theofficialyn Someone who prefers juice to coffee and don't approve ice cream on top of the pancakes in the morning 😔

⤷ ynfrance SHE ACTUALLY REPLIED HAHAHAHAHA

⤷ tayloryln @mickschumacher is that you, honey? sounds like you

mercedesamgf1 💜💜💜💜

mickschumacher

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, and others

mickschumacher A slightly different kind of day at work 🖤

view all 5,102 comments

sunshineschumi why do I got a feeling it was yn who posted this (aka the last pic)

sebastianvettel HAHAHAHAH it was a great day

⤷ bejewledts I bet even sebs love yn

theofficialyn it was so much fun working with those two! 💜💜

⤷ mickschumacher me and angie loved working with you too

⤷ theofficialyn I meant roscoe and angie 😜

⤷ fan12 LMFAOOOOO I LOVE HER

hamiltons2 "you're doing amazing, sweetie" last pic HAHAHHAHA

royallynyln It's nice watching two people fall in love 🍿🍿

yn1990 It's missing a picture of Y/n on this photo dump

⤷ theofficialyn I'll make sure to add on the next one 🫡

⤷ heelshighyn She's so active lately it's refreshing HAHAHAHA

⤷ energydrinkcars Not y/n causing a havoc on the fandom lmao

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

If you liked it, make sure to like and reblog <3 feel free to talk to me as well, my inbox is always open!

wanna be tagged on my stories? click here

[bokutos-biddys]

hiii! i loved your distraction fic with xavier so i was just wondering if you could write a ajax x fem or gn reader fic please 🥲

ignore this is you don't want to lmao

-More Pressing Matters-

Ajax Petropolus X Reader

First I didn’t write distraction (wish I did) that was just a reblog. Ummmmmm I really didn’t know what to do for this one sooooooo yeah. It’s kinda bad becuase I really didn’t know what to write so this is just word vomit really

Make-out cause what would I wright without that and reader is Xaiver’s sibling. No gendered pronouns and reader isn’t referred to as anything other than ‘you’

———

“Um, phosphorus?” You answer, and it’s incredibly clear that you are not confident in what you’re saying.

“Nope.” Ajax says, flipping the note card in his hand for you to see. You’re both seated on your bed, facing each other while Ajax flips through note cards, quizzing you. “I’m never gonna get this.” You sigh, leaning your head back.

“Oh come on, you’ve got this. I’d expect you to be the one quizzing me.” He replies, flipping through the remaining note cards.

“There’s only a few left, we could watch a movie afterwards?” He questions, moving closer to you. “I’d love to.” You reply.

“Ok, what is the twenty-sixth element on the periodic table?” He asked, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

“Um, Boron?” You answer, tilting your head a bit.

He sighs, dropping the notecards. “Ok, what’s going on? I know you know this. You’re acing chemistry, I’ve seen your test scores.” He says, staring at you with a confused face.

“I- ” crap, how are you going to get out of this one? You’ll admit you might have been lying not truthing about how much you were struggling in chemistry but… ok you don’t really have a good excuse.

You sigh in defeat, you might as well confess.

“I was hoping you might take the hint and ask me out. I’ve been pretending to be awful at this so you’d offer a coffee date or something.” You pout, crossing your arms.

“Is that what it is? Wait, that came out wrong. I mean yes I like you but I never thought you would like me back. Especially because of Xaiver-“

“My brother doesn’t control me, he can worry about it all he wants but in the end the decision is mine.” You cut him off, a stern tone in your voice. You move yourself closer to him before resting a hand on his chest.

“So if you like me, and I like you, does that mean this is a date? You’re my boyfriend? And all that comes with?” You ask, leaning into him.

“Um” he mutters, staring at your lips, then you, then your lips, then you, this goes on for a minute. Finally he lets out a long sigh. “Xaiver’s gonna kill me.” He says before pushing forward.

His lips are soft. You don’t know why you expected anything else but it’s the first thing you notice. Honestly everything about this is soft. He holds your face like you’re some delicate piece of artwork, something that could shatter with the smallest touch.

And the shutter of his breath he lets out when the both of you pull away is deafening. You, personally, don’t really like the distance between the two of you so you start to lean back in before Ajax stops you.

“Don’t. You kiss me again I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.” He whispers, pupils dilated more than you've ever seen them.

“And if I don’t want you to stop?” You ask, making it so there was barely a centimeter of space between the two of you.

He answers by pressing his lips to yours again. He’s not holding back you realize, it's all very enticing. He’s pushing forward, faster than you can lean back. Leading to you underneath him while he has a hand by your head and one resting on your waist. He’s able to pull all these quiet moans from your mouth all while simultaneously keeping you breathless.

“What the fuck is going on?” A shout makes you jerk apart from one another. Ugh, you hadn’t even noticed the door opening.

Despite the fact you have very firmly told Xaiver to knock he still clearly believes that he may barge in without warning whenever he likes. And despite the fact you have your clear annoyance written in your face Xaiver still thinks it appropriate to glare at the both of you. If looks could kill you believe Ajax would be far further than six feet under.

“Well, while you were busy moaning over your terrible love life, I was busy getting some. So if you don’t mind, I would like to get back to it.” You respond, getting up to push him out.

“Now wait, I believe I told you both to stay away from each other. How could you? Behind my back!” He pointed an accusing finger at Ajax. Who, in truth, looked ready for the ground to swallow him whole.

“And I told you that you don’t control me. So go back to painting or whatever and let me have this.” You said, finally pushing him out the door with a final shove.

He shouts from beyond the door but the both of you ignore it.

“I really don’t think he’s just going to drop the subject.” Ajax says, biting his lip.

“I don’t think a relationship between us is the end of the world. So if that's what he wants to worry about I’m not going to care much.” You reply, walking over to him before straddling his lap.

“There are more pressing matters.” You whisper with lidded eyes, your hands roaming up his shoulders.

“Yep, definitely, I agree.” He says quickly before meeting your lips once again.

[semper-draca]

There's something so depressing about being an artist on tumblr these days that I'm finding hard to articulate. Years ago, shitty one-hour sketches I posted would at least get double digits in the notes. These days, I can post commissions that took over fifty hours and get 5 notes at most. Blah blah do art for yourself, sure, but the important part is -

I Rarely Get Commissions Anymore.

Where I used to have to limit how many comms I could accept at once because I'd get that many requests, now I'm lucky to get two when I open up coms again. People don't reblog the art I do for myself, so no one finds my commission info that way. People don't reblog the art I do for commissions, so no one finds my commission info that way. People don't reblog commissions posts. A couple likes will get tossed at it from people who don't actually reach out in interest, so it doesn't circulate and it's just me reblogging it into the void, desperately hoping for some modicum of cash. I feel like people don't understand these days how little money most artists are bringing in, and the anxiety that comes with drastically declining circulation of art on websites like tumblr. Right now, for example, I'm desperate to earn as much money as I can during the summer because what I earn this summer? Has to last me rent for seven months straight to help offset the inevitable drain of all the savings I have. Normally some of that would come from art - nowadays, I can't rely on getting even a single commission.

I think this anxiety and this real material concern is what is behind all those "please for the love of god reblog art/posts you like" posts that people love to get angry about. If you haven't been here for years, it can be hard to see the ways in which this vanishing reblog culture has severely hit artists and forced many away from this platform. I don't want to leave tumblr or stop posting my art here, but good god is it depressing to see this site, and I cannot stress this enough, almost COMPLETELY VANISH as a revenue stream. I don't know what the solution to this culture shift is, but I do know that it's causing this site to deteriorate and forcing artists to move elsewhere and invest less effort on tumblr because it no longer makes any financial sense. I know that everyone is tired of hearing this, and fair enough, because there are plenty of other artists with louder voices than mine saying similar things, but please, if you like some art, consider reblogging it. Even if you have no interest in ever commissioning that artist. Others might see it and be interested, and that's how most new clients are made. Artists have rent on the line.

anyway, if you've made it to the end of this rant and haven't blocked me for it lmao, I still have commissions open

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia - Chapter 2: A Mere Lady (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapter 2: A Mere Lady

Daemon has returned to King’s Landing. Yet it is not in his nature to sit idle.

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | 

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist | 

Warnings: That extreme slow burn once more lmao, Daemon being an idiot, Westerosi sexism, mention of violence, Daemon and Y/N bickering like children again

Word Count: 2.9k words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out!

A/N: Thank you for all the support for the first chapter of Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia! It really warms my heart to see all your reblogs and likes 💗 this chapter is a bit of a filler one, but something big will happen next chapter (can you guess what it is? 👀) I hope you enjoy reading!

wonderful dividers courtesy of @firefly-graphics​  !  

The shadows darkened and the bustle of noise in the Red Keep slowly faded into a faint hum as night enveloped the castle. I had just finished drawing up and helping Aemma into a bath when a maid announced the presence of King Viserys. I hurriedly rose from where I was preparing the Queen’s nightclothes and curtsied. “Your Grace.” Viserys merely waved away my greeting, putting a hand on my shoulder. “At ease, Y/N. We are not in the presence of other courtiers, you need not refer to me by my title.” I smiled fondly at Viserys. “Well, if my king commands it. Are you here to see Aemma? She is in the midst of her nightly soak” Viserys’ brows furrowed, “Of course. How has she been? Are the baths of any help?”

“Aemma says it is effective to a degree, but the moment she steps out of the bath, the aches return.” Viserys hummed in acknowledgement; “Looks like our son is taking quite the toll on my beloved. He must be an active lad.” My smile widened at that: Viserys’ pride in his unborn son was clearly strong. But my smile dropped when I heard Viserys’ next words, “Have you had a chance to run into Daemon by any chance, Y/N?” I chewed hard on my lip at his question, making Viserys raise his eyebrows and laugh at my obvious distaste for his younger brother. “I will take that as a yes. Are the both of you still having trouble getting along?”

“We get along about as well as fire and oil, I’m afraid.” Viserys let out a huge belly laugh at that, “And who is the oil in this situation, you or Daemon?” “Daemon,” I answered without hesitation. “Seven hells, I have no doubt his love for provoking me is fueled by the gods themselves.” Viserys looked amused, “Well, as your king, I am pleased to inform you that I have listened to your petitions and assigned him back to his old post at the City’s Watch. Mayhaps he will cease annoying you with this new responsibility.”

“I thank you for your graciousness, Your Grace,” I curtsied slightly. “Your justice is indeed swift and efficient.” “Well, a king must care for his subjects above all else. And you are like a sister to me.” Viserys patted me on the shoulder, “I must go and check on my beloved now. A King must not keep his Queen waiting after all.” I nodded and turned back to my duties as he ambled away.

The morning sun lazily clambered up the sky, causing the Red Keep to begin to bustle about with noise once more. A servant helped me lace up my new Tyrell green gown, with small gold rocaille prints dotting the bodice and gold roses stitched throughout. Autumn had fallen upon King’s Landing, and the air was beginning to fill with a biting chill, hence my father had ordered the dressmakers to design the dress with fitted long sleeves. I was a little uncomfortable, since I was unused to dresses with fitted sleeves, but it did make it easier for me to tend to Aemma.

I cast a glance at the fireplace. The flames had long died out, but in the midst of the charred black wood, I could see the remnants of parchment. The new dress from Father had not arrived without condition. I had not bothered to read the letter - knowing it would be full of eligible lord names and pleading from my father to just pick one and put him out of his misery - instead chucking it into the fire without a second thought.

“My lady?” Blinking, I looked up at the servant girl. “I am finished with your hair. Are you in need of anything else?” I studied my reflection in the vanity, patting a stray strand of hair down gently. “No, everything is fine. You’ve done a wonderful job. Thank you, Rebecca.” She smiled and curtsied before scurrying off. I put on my favourite pair of gold earrings, checking my reflection one last time before striding out of my chambers.

Aemma was never an early riser, and pregnancy fatigue had only served to prolong her hours spent in bed, hence I always took this opportunity to wander around the Red Keep while undertaking any errands assigned to me at the same time. After making an errand run to the washerwomen to pick up Aemma’s clothes, I bustled over to the Grand Maester’s quarters to request for the Queen’s medicinal teas. I also paid a visit to the seamstress to get a few garments of Aemma’s altered, as she had complained about them being too tight around her bump.

With my list of tasks fulfilled, I breathed out a sigh of relief. Aemma had yet to rise, hence I was wandering aimlessly around the hallways. It was then that I heard a few lads whispering as they passed me. “Did you hear about Prince Daemon’s latest exploits?” “Aye, I heard the smallfolk’s cries all the way from Flea Bottom in my quarters last night. The king has summoned him to the Small Council meeting this morning to demand answers, I’ve heard.” “The prince truly cannot go a day without causing trouble…”

Curiosity piqued, I listened thoughtfully to their conversation until their voices faded away. Daemon? Causing trouble? There was nothing novel of the matter. Yet, the lads had whispered about hearing the cries of the smallfolk. And from what I heard, it did not seem like the cries that Daemon was fond of eliciting.

My nosiness getting the better of me, I turned on my heel, my green skirts swishing behind me. Arriving at the base of the White Knights Tower, I slipped inside a room before anyone could notice and question my presence. The room in question was a secondary armoury, but it was rarely used as the weapons stored here were either blunted after years of use or outright broken. I pushed aside a false pillar made of highly porous stone, revealing a narrow gap which I squeezed through with ease.

Pulling back the pillar to cover the gap once more, my eyes trailed around the expanse of the space as I found myself in a familiar winding hallway. Sunlight poured in through numerous crumbling holes in the ceiling, and the air was filled with a dank smell. Sneezing slightly, I gathered my skirts and quickly made my way through the familiar maze of passageways. I nearly forgot to take a left, almost ending up in the secret halls in the Tower of the Hand, but I retraced my paths and breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the Hand’s disdainful voice. Here, the passageways were much more spacious and bright, being situated on the upper floors of Maegor’s Holdfast.

Peeking through one of the spaces in the walls, I caught sight of the Small Council seated around the table. Daemon was sitting near the head of the table still clad in his armour, his face streaked with dirt. Unfortunately, his back was turned to me, so I couldn’t glimpse his expression. However, I noticed most of the lords were looking noticeably on edge, especially the Hand. Otto’s face was even more unpleasant than usual, and that was saying something.

By the Gods, what had Daemon done now?

“You might not know this unless you left the safety of the Red Keep, but much of the city is seen by the smallfolk as lawless, and terrifying.” Daemon’s smooth voice echoed throughout the room. Otto’s face turned as sour as spoiled milk. I had to restrain a snort, he was not incorrect, the residents of the Red Keep, particularly those of noble blood, were very far removed from the lives of the smallfolk. I had once ridden with Rhaenyra and Alicent to the Dragonpit, passing by the streets of Flea Bottom, and safe to say, I was very glad for my life of luxury in the Red Keep, although I did feel sorry for them.

“...I just hope you don’t have to maim half of my city to achieve this.” “Time will tell,” came Daemon’s response. Even with my view of his facial expressions obstructed, I could nearly picture the smirk on his face, clear as day. I rolled my eyes. It seems that Daemon’s first night returning to his duties as commander of the City Watch had been bloody, to say the least.

“If only the prince would show the same devotion to his lady wife as he does to his work, your Grace.” I snapped to attention once more, eyes keenly observing the proceedings through the space. Gods be good, the Hand cannot give it a rest, can he? I suppose he could not: his distaste for Daemon clouded him from better judgement. But he should know better, I bit my lip to restrain the laugh I know would follow. Daemon always knew how to find someone’s sore spots, and Otto Hightower was as prickly as those strange Dornish desert dwelling plants.

“I’d gladly give Lady Rhea to you, Lord Hightower, if you are in want of a woman to warm your bed,” Otto’s face lost its previous smugness as his eyes grew wide in anger and he stiffened at Daemon’s remarks. “Your own lady wife passed recently-” There was a scraping of a chair on the floor as the Hand towered over the table. I recognised the expression on his face, it was one I had worn many times in my life.

The visceral urge to punch Daemon Targaryen in the face.

I clapped my hand over my mouth, trying to fight the battle to keep my laughter at bay

“Did she not?” I lost the battle as a small wheeze erupted from my covered mouth. My eyes widening, I watched as the men at the Small Council table stiffen, particularly Daemon - his stance suddenly became more pronounced and alert. I know it would be hard to discover me unless the men had knowledge of the secret passages, yet I felt my heart thundering in my chest.

But the gods were good, and the men soon dismissed the sound as Viserys attempted to soothe Otto’s anger. Finally, after Viserys admonished Daemon for his actions- albeit not as fiercely as the Hand would have hoped for, judging by how his sharp glare had not subsided in the least after the king’s judgement - Daemon got up to leave, the doors shutting behind him with a definitive thunk. I dusted off my skirts and readied myself to leave as well. The excitement was over, and I had gotten the information I wanted to know anyway. Walking through the hallways again, I debated on which path I should take to ensure my exit would not be noticed by anyone. The nearest exit I knew was immediately out of the question, and I could not sneak out through the exits in any of the royal apartments, because there was an ever-present risk of being discovered by a nosy servant. Sighing, I continued walking, lost in thought, until a figure pushed me against a wall.

I opened my mouth to scream but a hand that smelt of sweat and something coppery covered my mouth, putting a finger to his lips. My eyes narrowed as he released his hand from my mouth. “What in the Seven Hells do you think you’re doing?” I spouted out angrily as those godsforsaken pair of lilac eyes stared down at me with amusement. “I think I should be asking you that, byka zaldrīzes,” Daemon raised an eyebrow.

“I asked first. How did you even know I was here?” I grumbled, dusting off my dress. The pounding in my chest was so loud I was certain the whole of the Red Keep could hear how much of a terrified wreck I was.

Instead of answering, Daemon reached his hand out to brush at my hair, as I observed him with wary eyes. Then, he flicked my forehead. “Ow! What was that for?” He smirked, “I see you took the armoury entrance, judging from the grime on your face and in your hair.” “And? It was one of the only ways I could get into the passageways without being seen.”

The prince hummed infuriatingly under his breath. “Has anyone ever told you how fond you are of making your life more difficult, byka zaldrīzes?” “Well forgive me, your Grace, but I do not wish to be caught in your apartments trying to sneak into a secret passage. The Red Keep is akin to a vicious beast when it comes to gossip.” The prince let out a triumphant “ha!” as I looked quizzically at him. Had he finally lost his mind?

“Formalities again,” he said, delighted, “I was hoping that yesterday’s episode in the throne room was not the last I would hear of you addressing me formally.” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “My question remains unanswered. How did you know I was in here?” The prince snorted. “I think every one of those lickspittles in the small council heard your laugh. I was the only one to recognise it however.”

I huffed. “Well thank the gods it was just you. Had it been the Hand-”

“That cunt is too busy licking my brother’s boots to seek you out, byka zaldrīzes,” Daemon teased, beginning to walk away. Rolling my eyes once again, I followed closely after. “I’m surprised you still remember the entrances. I was of the impression you would get lost if you ever came here again..” “From how many times you dragged me through these hallways to go catch a peak of King Jaehaerys and Prince Baelon in council sessions, it would take me a century to forget these halls.” I japed, as we rounded a corner that took us straight into an old closet in Daemon’s chambers. As we stumbled out, he settled down on his bed with a sigh of relief, and began to remove his armour. I crossed my arms as I leaned against the window, “There is still a lady here, your Grace.” “I don’t see any ladies, only a nosy bird.” “Hilarious.”

I averted my eyes as Daemon began to remove the gold cloak slung behind his shoulders. “I heard you crippled half the smallfolk.” “An exaggeration,” Daemon waved his hand dismissively. “And if so, they were criminals. Looters. Rapers. Petty thieves.” “And yet, you killed numerous innocents in your path to slaughter those criminals.” I said quietly.

Daemon was silent for a while, and I thought he had left to take a bath. But I was startled yet again when I felt a finger softly tilting my chin upward. Lilac eyes swirling with mild annoyance and mirth met my pensive (Y/E/C) ones. “Spare me the reprimand, Y/N. My brother and Lord Cunttower have already said more than enough.” He handed me a wet cloth, and I sighed before brushing it across his face, getting rid of the grime. Our dynamic has not changed since childhood, I mused internally. I walked away to dump the grime covered cloth in a basket for the servants to collect later.

“Do you not agree with my actions?” He motioned me to sit next to him on his bed. Wordlessly, I sat. Our eyes met, his searching mine for my reaction. “The violence was unwarranted,” I began delicately, watching Daemon’s eyes narrow. “However, I’d like to think the ends justify the means. I share Lord Corlys’ view on this matter.”

Daemon leaned back on his bedpost with a smile. “As I thought, you were more sensible than you looked.” His voice rose in volume as he ran a hand through his white blonde locks in frustration. “Pray tell, I just do not understand why my brother only sees the bad, and not the good. Even a mere lady like you could understand. Has that cunt of a Hand pulled the wool over my brother’s eyes so far that he is blind to the welfare of his city?”

Not receiving a response, he looked over at the Lady Tyrell. She sat there, eyes fixed to the ground, her mouth set in a thin line, her hands clasped in her lap. “Y/N?” “And begging your pardon, what exactly does ‘being a mere lady’ supposed to entail?”

Daemon had a slight hunch he might have made a mistake. “I was not implying anyth-” “Really?” Y/N interrupted sharply. “Or did you just consider my wits inferior to yours simply because I am a woman?”    

She stood abruptly, curtsying as she did. “Forgive me, my prince, I have other matters to attend to. If you have had enough of this mere lady’s presence, I shall be off lest a servant discovers us and sets tongues wagging.” She walked briskly out of the room, before Daemon could even formulate a response. Daemon stared at her retreating figure, and he groaned in frustration as he removed the last of his armour. His words had come out unintentionally, and he had not intended to insult her. Why was she so offended by them?

He huffed as soon as he had the thought. Why was it of any concern? He cared not for what that annoying brat thought of him. Sighing, he got up to ready himself for another visit to Flea’s Bottom. He had not seen Mysaria for a time.

translation: byka zaldrīzes: little dragon 

And that’s chapter 2! Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :)) Since chapter 2 was a little bit of a filler chap, chapter 3 should hopefully be released in about three days (as soon as I get that presentation that has been the source of my torment over the past few days on Tuesday done lol)  Let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist in the comments or through this form! 💗

Taglist: @drwho-ess @graniairish​ 

[sluttylittlewaistenthusiast]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

╰┈➤ a/n: is it obvious how much i love angst? lmao

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@normspellsman

⭒ A Lesson In Pinky Promises

being the eldest sully child isn’t easy and the other clan kids make sure you know of your “alien blood” nearly every day. what happens when, after a bad beating, jake finds reader crying and trying to bandage herself up?

@neteyamsilly

⭒ I Will Soften Every Edge, Hold The World To Its Best

As Jake Sully's oldest daughter, you never see eye to eye with him, always challenging him and pushing his buttons to the limit. What happens when things go too far one day?

@hhnguyen

⭒ Parts Of My Heart

A look at the Sully children through the loving eyes of Neytiri, and how you as the oldest daughter fit into this puzzle piece. Also a slight rediscovery of Neytiri and Jake’s relationship after the war cause it’s not talked about enough.

This Fortress Is Our Family

the full Sully family masterlist

@kurogxrix

This Family Is Our Fortress

In which Dad!Jake and Mom!Neytiri comfort you after the boy that you loved has chosen another.

@avatarkv

⭒ Every Corner Of This House Is Haunted

Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond.

One | Two | Three | Four | Five |

⭒ Know Its For The Better

You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing.

1. Feels like we've got matching wounds and mine's still black and bruised (and yours is perfectly fine.)

2. Once there was a way to get back homeward, (you're gonna carry that weighy for a long time.)

3. I watch the fathers with their little girls and wonder what i did to deserve this, (how could you hurt a little kid?)

4. Mom, am I still young? Can I dream for a few months more?

5. I know it's for the better. Know it's for the better.