#this was a really cute idea in my head and i think the execution of it's okay ?

[daydreams-after-dark]

Hellaurr

I had a very interesting dream plz I'm desperate for Minho to facefuck me so so so so rough plz I'm literally foaming in the mouth for his cum (desperate ass call for desperate measures 🤣🤣🤣)

(with lots of degrading plz)

Hehe if ur comfortable could you make it a male!reader? If not it's fine hehe just make it gn or fem, heheheheheheh tysm 🎉✨💅

I was so excited when this ask hit my inbox. Thank you @chuuchuu1224 for sending me my first ever request for a male!reader 😘

I thoroughly enjoyed writing this, and it was so fucking hot in my head, but now I’m about to post it I’m a little nervous. As much as I love writing from a guys perspective (usually skz member’s perspective with fem!reader), I’m not a guy. So I’m never going to truly know the experience. I hope I did ok 🫣

To my female readers: I really hope you give this a read because I’m pretty sure you’ll enjoy it if you generally enjoy my work. Minho face fucking is a need.

Lastly, degradation is a challenge for me (I’m a praise baby, but I love reading degradation). I’m sorry if it’s not degrading enough 😬.

CW basically everything in the ask 👆

‼️⚠️As always MDNI⚠️‼️

You watched Minho perform every single week at the local theatre. Saying he was your favourite dancer was an understatement. You were well and truly obsessed with him. Your eyes would be glued on his incredible physique from start to finish, not even noticing the other performers.

Minho was everything. Strong and controlled. Fluid and graceful. He had an expression of disdain one minute, a cute flirty glimmer in his eyes the next. And the way he rolled his hips whilst looking down at himself? Well, that always got you leaking, right there in the theatre.

Every week, you'd grow hard in your pants while sitting in the audience, hoping the person who sat next to you didn't see the boner your were sporting.

You'd think about him all the way home, and more often than not, you had to fuck into your hand before you even made it into the house. You always made sure to keep a packet of tissues in the glovebox of your car.

Tonight, Minho's performance had you hornier than usual, and you made an executive decision to go find the bathrooms to alleviate your situation, before anyone had a chance to see the state you were in.

"Y/n? That is your name, right?" A voice stopped you just as you were about to walk into the bathroom. Startled, and a little panicked, you turned to the person speaking to you.

Minho. Fuck. Your hands quickly tried to hide the bulge in your pants.

Minho's eyes followed your hands to your crotch. "hmph." he grunted and raised an eyebrow.

"Y-yes...that's me." you smiled sheepishly whilst dying inside.

----

"I've seen you here before, y/n." Minho said as he stripped the last of your clothes off your body. "Many times, in fact."

You were laying completely naked on a huge couch in a back room of the theatre. You gripped your cock as you watched Minho casually undress himself, tossing the garments to the floor. "Do you come to watch me?" he turned and smirked at you, before his eyes dropped to where you held yourself. “Tsk tsk. I didn’t say you could touch yourself now did I?”

You immediately released your cock, letting it lay against your lower abs, and swallowed hard in anticipation. What was Minho going to do to you?

“I see your pretty little face in the audience. Every. Single. Week.” He sauntered towards you and ran his hand up your leg, then your torso, causing you to tremble. “Watching me with that slutty mouth hung open.” He cupped your chin. “And you know what I wonder to myself every time I see you?”

Your eyes grew wide as they stared up at the man you’d admired from afar for so long.

“What that mouth would look like choking on my cock?”

You groaned and closed your eyes, your dick hardening even more.

“Hmm.” Minho stroked your cheek. “You like the idea of my cock rammed down your throat.” He forced your mouth open, shoving two fingers inside. You moaned again and sucked on his fingers, showing him what a good, obedient boy you could be.

He pulled his fingers out abruptly, dragging your saliva all over your chin.

Minho moved to grab your legs and pulled you further down the length of the couch, then climbed over you to straddle your chest. His magnificent dancer’s thighs pressed down on your chest, and his delicious, mouthwatering cock, was mere inches from your face.

“Beg me for it.” He said coldly, gripping his cock with one hand and a fistful of your hair in the other.

Your eyes started to water at the desperation you felt. You wanted him so bad you’d do anything to have him just use you. Use you for his pleasure and discard you when he was done. You’d thank him for it.

“Pl-please… Minho… need…your cock. Need your cum.” You whined.

Minho rubbed the head of his cock along your lower lip, swiping precum on it like it was lip gloss. You started to wriggle, you needed him to put it inside you now!

“Use me… please…I wanna be your cockslut.” You sobbed. Minho kept rubbing the tip of his cock along the edge of your mouth.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you good? Destroy your throat, hmm?”

You nodded desperately.

“Okay. If you think you can take it. Open.” He demanded, and you complied instantly. “No touching yourself or me.”

He pushed his cock deep into your mouth and hissed as it passed over your tongue.

“That’s it.. take it down…Such a fucking slut. Yes. Open wider.” He pulled out halfway and thrust his hips to push himself in further.

You couldn’t breathe. He filled your mouth so good. He tasted like soap and sweat. His skin so velvety and smooth, and the way the veins felt along you tongue did things to your insides.

Minho fucked into your mouth furiously, hitting the back of your throat every single time. Your eyes watered and you hoped with everything you had that you didn’t gag.

“You’re taking this a little too well.” Grunted Minho. With the hand that was gripping your hair, he pushed the back of your head into the couch, and angled his hips to push his cock in until your lips were wrapped around the base. The tip squeezed past your throat, making you gag with a gurgling sound, and your face turn red.

“Finally choking on it properly now.” He slapped your cheek, and fucking you harder still.

You were pinned under his strong legs, unable to escape - not that you wanted to. Your legs started moving about, and your hips began to jutt against thin air. You wanted some friction, but your poor cock had to just lay there, swollen and neglected.

Your hand came up to rest on Minho’s thighs. That was a big mistake.

Minho paused, still lodged deep in your mouth. “What did I say, slut? Take your filthy hands off me.” He said through gritted teeth.

You whimpered around his cock as you removed your hands.

Minho sighed and looked up to the ceiling, before looking back down at your fucked out face. “What am I going to do with you?” He asked himself.

He pulled out of your mouth and climbed off you. Your eyes widened. “No… please! Minho… I can be good… I wanna be good… please… need you..”

Minho simply ignored you and moved around behind your head to drag you so your head was hanging off the edge of the couch arm. Then he disappeared momentarily, returning with a soft belt from a bath robe.

“Little boys that misbehave must be punished. Don’t you think?” He said tying your hands together, then moving back to wear your head hung.

“Open wide little cockslut.” He said in the most condescending tone you’d ever heard. Of course you obliged, opening as wide as you could.

You knew he wasn’t going to be gentle. His cock pushed past your tongue and deep into your throat, until he was all the way in. The more you struggled and the more you gagged, the harder his cock became, and the further down your throat he forced himself.

“This is what you wanted isn’t it? You wanted to choke on it.” He growled as your lips pressed against his pelvis. “I’m gonna be real nice and give you exactly what you want. I’m gonna make you fuckin’ choke.” His hand came to your throat and pressed around where his cock was stretching you open.

“Fuck…so tight…shit…fuck.” He hissed, slamming himself into you brutally.

You had no choice but to gladly take it.

“So fucking pathetic, with your leaking cock. Bet you’re gonna cum untouched… so desperate… so fucking pathetic.”

You whimpered, moaned, thrashed around as Minho held your head in place with his cock and his hands. “That’s it. Take it like the desperate little cockslut you are.”

Your neglected cock was well and truly leaking, tears were streaming from your eyes, and your mouth was dribbling messily. Yet you needed more.

You needed Minho’s cum. You wanted him to completely fucking ruin you. Just the thought of tasting his cum had you on the edge of your own orgasm, and your demise came when you opened your eyes to get the perfect view of Minho’s ass. Your cries were muffled as the coil inside you snapped and you felt ropes of your own cum land on your stomach as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami.

“So pathetic.” Grunted Minho when he saw you make a mess on yourself, then he was filling you up. “Drink it up… That’s it… Like a good little cockslut.” He panted as spurts of cum hit the back of your throat, then he pulled out to paint your face with the reminder of his seed.

“Fuck!” He growled throwing his head back as he allowed himself to calm down.

You tried to catch your breath whilst trying to desperately lick as much cum from around your face as possible. You didn’t want to waste a drop.

Minho began to redress, raking his eyes over you as he pulled his sweats up. You thought he was going to just leave you there, naked and used. If you were honest with yourself you were thrilled with that thought.

Unexpectedly, Minho knelt beside you with a towel, wiping you up and untying you.

Then he did something more unexpected.

He took you in a deep kiss.

…..

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224

[deadpoets]

JESS MARIANO + SNOOPY (x,x)

[sluts4matt]

okay, i feel like this could be crazy? please take this any direction you want. like reader is at a party (like tara’s party) and her and chris get in a fight over a photo that was posted during the party. this has been on the mind, and im just not the correct person to execute this idea. but please take this any direction and change anything, please and thank you! i love your work please keep posting 🫶🏻

JEALOUS

pairing: rough!dom chris x sub!reader

summary: a picture of you a little to close to another guy at tara's 1 milli party is posted on the internet. chris does NOT like that at all and has to teach you a lesson.

warnings: SMUT, rough sex, spanking, degradation, daddy kink, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, light bondage, blindfolding, choking, orgasm denial, pet names, slight dumbification (because i love it so much ), light fluff at the end

word count: 1652

author's note: i really hope i did your request justice @lovelysturniolos i HAD to feed into everyone saying chris and tara would look cute, i'm sorry, sue me. kind, constructive criticism welcome.

"what the fuck is this?" your boyfriend, chris, asks holding his phone to you. his tone wasn't an amused one which was very unlike him. "what?" you mumble, furrowing your eyebrows as you bring yourself closer to his phone.

the two of you had the house to yourself for the evening, and currently sat on the couch in the living room. you looked at the picture, you were wearing your sparkly black dress, the fabric hugging you just right.

you hand was placed on some guys arm. why? you were absolutely hammered and ended up trying to make chris jealous out of your own jealousy. he had been close to tara almost all night, and while his attention was on you, part of you seemed to think he'd rather pay it to her.

you and chris had ended up losing each other within two hours of being there. but when you found him, and he was talking to tara with tha big ass grin of his. the one he always gives you. you couldn't stand it.your hand immediately found the guy nearest you, batting your eyelashes at him while you giggled at the jokes he told.

all in hopes that chris would look over and see, but he never did.

guess a picture was taken though, so you'd still technically be getting what you want. "who the fuck is that guy? huh?" chris demands. "honestly chris? couldn't tell you," you shrug. "but it was someone who was nice to me while my boyfriend was off with another chick," you mumble the last bit, but chris catches it.

the dry chuckle that leaves his mouth sends shivers down your spine, and the way he was staring at you made your stomach feel tight. "i don't give a fuck about tara," he says.

"really? coulda fooled me," you retort. chris' jaw clenched, and he stood up from the couch, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you off the couch.

"where are we going?" you ask as you try to keep up with his large strides. "i'm gonna fuck some sense into you," he states. "and then, we're going to have a little chat about who the fuck you belong to," he tells you, opening the door to his (your shared) bedroom and shoving you inside.

"chris-" "strip," he says, cutting you off. his voice was stern, and left no room for arguments. he walked over to the closet, grabbing the silk ties and blindfolds that sat in a box on the top shelf. you stripped your clothes, watching chris as he got into the box.

"hands behind your back," he commands, walking over to you. "chris-" "shut the fuck up," he snaps. "unless you're gonna say the safeword, please, shut the fuck up," he repeats. you nod your head.

he places the tie over your eyes, and brings your hands behind your back, tying them together. "get on the bed," he tells you, smacking your ass as you walk towards the bed.

you climb onto the bed, sitting in the middle of the mattress. "chris, i-" you're cut off by chris' hand covering your mouth. "if you're gonna be using that mouth, it's gonna be for something useful ma," he tells you. "so, either stop talking, or put that fucking mouth to work," he says.

you nod your head, and chris removes his hand from your mouth. "yes daddy," you mumble. "what was that baby?" he asks, knowing he heard you. "yes daddy," you speak up, earning a satisfied hum from chris.

"that's more like it," he says, taking his shirt off, and kicking his sweats and boxers off. he grabs a pillow from the head of the bed, and puts it under your knees.

"open your mouth," he tells you. and you obey, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. chris grabs the base of his cock and guides it into your mouth.

you swirl your tongue around the tip, kitty licking it. chris grabs the back of your head, and pushes himself into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. "fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good ma," he says, moving his hips and thrusting into your mouth.

he pulls himself out, and smacks your face with his cock a few times. he rubs his tip along your lips, smearing pre-cum all over them. "such a pretty fucking face," he muses, shoving his cock back into your mouth.

he groans as you take him back in, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him off. "fucking choke on it baby," he groans, pushing your head further down until his cock hit the back of your throat, over and over again.

you gag on his dick, tears beginning to leak from your eyes, dampening the fabric of the blindfold. saliva dripped down the corners of your mouth.

"fuck, i'm close," he moans. you move your head faster, bobbing your head, gagging and choking on his cock. "shit baby, that's it. gonna cum down that pretty fucking throat," he moans.

he pushes your head down again, and holds you there, letting his cum paint the inside of your throat. "fuck, fuck," he breathes, his chest heaving. he wraps your head in a makeshift ponytail around his hand tugging your head back.

he admires the way the black blindfold contrasts against your tan skin, "so pretty baby, too bad you thought you had to make me jealous to get my fucking attention." he says.

he takes his cock from your mouth and wipes the remaining saliva and cum off on your cheek. "now, i'm gonna fuck some sense into you, and after that, we're gonna talk about why it is you're my fucking girl," he says, pulling you up and positioning you how he wants.

his favorite position had your ass up in the air and your cheek pressed against the mattress. he rubbed your right ass cheek before raising his hand and landing a hard smack down on it. the sound echoed in the room, and the stinging sensation had you moaning because of the pain and pleasure.

"this ass, mine," he says, landing a few more harsh slaps down. "this pussy, mine," he continues, sliding his cock between your folds and pressing the tip at your entrance. "mhm, fuck," you gasp, as chris pushes himself into your cunt.

his right hand finds its way in-between your shoulder blades, shoving you down further as his left hand has a steady grip on your hip. his hips smack against your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room, accompanied by his groans and grunts and your loud moans. "i wanna hear how good my cock is," chris tells you.

"fuck daddy, so big. feels so fucking good," you moan, gripping the silk fabric tied around your wrists. "so fucking tight, ma," he says, his right hand sliding down to grab the fabric tied around your wrists.

he tugs your body back, forcing himself deeper into your cunt, causing your breath to catch in your throat. his hips move a million miles an hour, chasing his release, choked whines left your mouth that had you gasping for air, drool running down your chin.

"so fucking pathetic, look at ya," he chuckles, watching as you come undone underneath him. "such a whiny bitch, can't even speak." he tugs on the tie again, pulling you up. his left hand slides up to wrap around your neck, squeezing lightly.

"gonna cum daddy," you babble, your high approaching. "no you're not," chris says, denying you of your orgasm. he pushes you back down, pounding into you with no mercy, "chris," you whine. "wanna act like a slut to get my attention, gonna get treated and used like one."

"fuck daddy," you whine, the knot in the pit of your stomach becoming tighter. "chris, please, need to cum," you beg. he moves his left hand up to grip the hair at the base of your skull, "don't you fucking dare," he threatens.

"gotta earn it baby," he tells you. "how do you earn daddy's permission?" he asks.

"please," you moan, unable to think of anything else to say. "not what i'm looking for," he says, bringing his hand down on your ass, leaving a red handprint on your skin. "fuck," you hiss. "daddy," you cry. "please, please, fuck," you beg.

"that's more like it," he grunts. he leans over your body, his left hand reaching up to hold the headboard while his right stays in the same place.

"go on then, cum on my cock," he whispers, biting down on your earlobe, tugging on it. his words send you over the edge, and you come undone underneath him. your pussy spasms around his cock, squeezing and clenching, milking his orgasm from him.

he fills your cunt up, coating your walls white. his thrusts become slower, and the grip he has on your body is softer, until he stops altogether, and pulls out of you.

"good girl," he praises, running his thumb along your entrance, catching the mixture of both of your orgasms and bringing it to his mouth. he sucks the digit clean, humming at the taste.

he lays down next to you, pulling you into him, "now, who do i belong too?" he asks, holding you close. "me," you answer. "mm, and who do you belong too?" he asks, kissing your head. "you," you reply, leaning up to kiss him.

"good girl," he hums, placing a kiss on your nose. "want me to doordash panda express princess?" he asks, nuzzling his face into the conjunction of your jaw and neck. he peppered small kisses making you giggle. "nap first," you tell him.

he nods his head, grabbing the blanket and draping it over the both of you. he presses a final kiss to your temple, whispering, "i love you baby," before the two of you drift off.

tag list:

@sturnioloa @junnniiieee07

[vminizzle]

Wanna get married

pairing : bestfriend!jungkook x f.reader

genre : FLUFF

warnings : mention of drinking alcohol, reader is tipsy, jungkook is bestfriend goal, they cute, that's all :)

word count : 1.7k

A/N : Hi my lovely people, I hope you've been doing good. Like I told you, I wrote a little drabble for you guys since I'm making you guys wait for sweet lips 3,, It's just a little something just to thank you guys for your patience and reading my stuff. REMINDER : poor English,, I wanna apologise in advance like you guys already know English is not my first language so please don't mind the mistake. Love you guys - sunny

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY WELCOMED 🍂

“wanna get married?” you asked between giggles.

“you confident?” he raised an eyebrow amused at the sudden burst.

“I’m asking if you can handle.” he smiled teasingly as you let your body rest on his.

“Of course I can.” you replied as you looked up at him, your hand going up to his hair to play with the long black locks.

Jungkook bit on his bottom lip, staring down at you. You looked so beautiful, the moonlight showing off your pretty features, he could only smiled.

“I want to kiss you.” you whispered eyes sparkling as you stared at his lips with lust.

“angel, you know we can’t do that.” Jungkook laughed slightly, holding you by your waist.

“I love you Jungkook.” you blurted out after a few seconds, arms wrapping around his neck.

His heart skipped a beat at the words, throat getting dry. He knew you weren’t thinking right so he avoid the conversation.

“y/n, you’re drunk.” he flicked your forehead making you whine in pain.

“noo I’m not!” you punched him lightly on his chest making him laugh.

“C’mon let’s go home.” he held you tightly, helping you walk as you kept on struggling to stand straight.

“my feet hurt.” you whined tiredly letting your body dropped on the ground.

Jungkook watched as you took your shoes off throwing them at the other side of the road.

“hey hey no don’t do that.” he closed his eyes exasperate.

Your best friend crouched down sighing at your current state.

“I shouldn’t had let you drink.” he shook his head before grabbing your hand helping you up.

He went to grab your shoes handing them back to you. 

“C’mon, we’re not so far from home.” he encouraged you making you shake your head.

“I’m tired. I can’t walk anymore.” you huffed.

“You can go home, let me there.” you pointed to the sidewalk.

Jungkook watched in disbelief as you sat on the ground again.

“are you serious right now?” he tilted his head to the side.

“good night.” you yawned as you were about to lay down making Jungkook rushed to you to stop you from executing your stupid idea. 

Your best friend sighed heavily before pulling you up again.

“C’mon.” he turned around, bending his knees slightly.

“piggyback?” you said excited, jumping on his back making Jungkook groaned.

“Let’s go!” you exclaimed loudly, voice resonating in the dark empty streets, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Be quiet y/n.” he warned shushing you.

“yessir.” you whispered giggling making Jungkook smiled softly.

You nuzzled your head into his neck, your warm breath caressing his skin gently.

After walking for a few minutes, you were in front of your best friend’s house.

Jungkook was hesitant about you sleeping at his house tonight. Not that he didn’t like you staying over. Not at all. He loved when you’re spending time together. You’re used to do movie nights, sleepovers at each others, but tonight was different.

You were not really sober. 

And he wasn’t sure of how you were about to act.

When being drunk, you often try to kiss him, confess your love to him; you’re just really clingy.

Unlocking the front door, he gestured you to enter first before locking it after him.

Turning around you envelope his body into a big hug surprising him as you look up at him.

“you’re handsome tonight.” you said shyly making him smile with a breathy laugh escaping his mouth.

“thanks. You’re not bad yourself.” he flicked your forehead making you pout.

“go upstairs, I’ll come in a few minutes.” he pushed you gently to the stairs.

“you can change into confortable clothes. You know where it is.” he said before walking away.

A few minutes late, Jungkook was standing in front of his bedroom’s door knocking softly on it, waiting for you to allow him to enter the room.

“y/n?” he knocked again when he heard nothing. It was silent.

“Can I come in?”

Jungkook threw his head back tiredly before huffing getting a bit sleepy. He just wanted to sleep.

“Can I come in? Are you finished?” he asked again a bit louder.

Did you fall asleep?

Are you in the bathroom?

Did you faint??

Entering the room almost panicked, Jungkook‘s eyes widen slightly in relief.

Here you were standing in the middle of the room wearing one of his Calvin Klein oversized shirt.

“Koo!” you ran to him with a wide smile on your face, hands coming to his broad shoulders for another hug, the oversized shirt ridding up your thighs when doing so.

“hey.” he gulped feeling your body pressed oh his tightly.

“didn’t find a sweatpants?” he asked walking to his wardrobe when you shake your head.

Handing you the comfy clothes, he informed you that he was gonna freshen up a bit.

You snuggled into his bed under the warm sheet waiting for him.

After a few minutes, Jungkook exited the bathroom finding you in his bed.

Don’t get him wrong, you often slept with him in his bed during sleepover but when you’re drunk he rather not. For his own good.

He didn’t want to make a mistake so he approached the bed, laying a soft kiss on your forehead before grabbing his pillow making you frowned.

“where you going?” you tilted your head to the side confused.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch… I wanted to.. hmm I wanted to watch a movie before sleeping.” he lied not wanting to make you sad.

“aren’t you tired? Your eyes are puffy and you keep on yawning.” you pointed out yawning yourself.

“Not.. not really.” he looked down avoiding your eyes. 

He didn’t like lying to you, he started feeling guilty.

“Please sleep with me.” you said a small pout drawing its way on your lips making him sighed as you sat up.

“Princess, I can’t-“

“You don’t love me.” you started, tears bubbling in your eyes.

“hey no no! No don’t say that. That’s not true.” he rushed to the bed shaking his head.

“I love you.”

“Really?” you sniffed making him sit on the bed nodding.

“I do. I really love you.” he said reassuring you. He meant it. His heart beating way too fast for his liking. He knew he loved you, more than what you were… best friends.

“sleep with me.” you pleaded at him with doe eyes making him bite on his bottom lip, hesitating on what to do.

He finally sighed, putting his pillow on its usual place making you squeal happily.

Laying down on his back next to you, you joined him, laying down again, staring at him as you approached him.

“what?”

“you’re cute.” you breathed out.

“thanks.” he replied.

“you’re cute. I wanna kiss you.” you whispered, face getting closer to his.

Before he could say anything, you connected your lips together softly making him widen his eyes in shock.

He didn’t know why he kissed your back, the feeling of your soft lips on his making him hummed into the kiss.

No. No, he couldn’t do that.

Wake up, Jungkook! he scolded himself.

He pushed you slightly away, breathing heavily as he shake his head watching you frown, feeling disappointed at the short kiss.

“I.. I can’t do that. I’m sorry. You’re not sober y/n. That’s not right of me doing that. I don’t want to.. y’know. You’re not thinking straight. I won’t take advantage of this situation.” he explained slowly.

You just nodded, not understanding everything he just said before scooting closed to him again making him furrow his eyebrows.

“Can we at least cuddle?”

He hesitated staring at you.

“I won’t kiss you.” you pouted making him smile.

“Alright then. I trust you?” he checked again.

“I promise!” you put your hand up in the air, with a huge smile.

“good. come here.” he opened his arms as you snuggled into his warm embrace.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you murmured against his chest catching his attention as he hummed.

“But don’t tell yourself.” you added.

“What?” he laughed at your nonsense. 

“so you’re telling me a secret but I can’t say it to me?” he couldn’t help but smile.

“yup!” 

“I’m listening.” he replied curiously.

“I’m in love with Jungkook since I’m 10.” you smiled, hand playing with his fingers.

Jungkook was speechless as he didn’t know what to say or what to do. You really did surprised him right now. 

“Do you think he feels the same?” you finally looked up at him, a bit of shyness and curiosity filling your eyes.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he just said, not replying to your question.

“yes.”

“I’m in love with you.” Jungkook said with a cute smile.

“but.. I love Jungkook.” you sat up looking down at him feeling confused.

“I don’t want to break your heart, but I love him already.” you started hands on your lap.

Jungkook wanted to burst out laughing but you were so cute.

“well, that’s ok then.” he shrugged.

“But do you want an advice?” he sat up too making you nod.

“You should tell him you love him.” he bit on his pierced lip trying to stop himself from smiling.

“Really? But I’m scared if he feels uncomfortable if he doesn’t love me the same. I don’t want to lose him.” you explained sadly.

“you won’t lose him, don’t say that. Just tell him, he’s your best friend right?” he raised an eyebrow.

“yes he is!”

“So, tell me- I mean tell him you’re in love with him when you’re sober tomorrow.”

“Sober? Am I drunk? No! I’m sober!” you slapped his arm earning another laugh from him.

“yea yea whatever. Come sleep now.” he pulled you down with him, putting the blanket over your bodies.

“good night angel.” he caressed your back gently making you hummed.

“good night.” you laid a quick peck on his cheek before resting your head on his chest.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile. His heart melting when thinking about the whole conversation. He felt the unfamiliar butterflies in the pit of his stomach, it felt unreal for him. 

He slept good that night, feeling excited to wake up the next morning. 

[disneyprincemuke]

get this right * aa23

the thought of proposing to you is one that always comes easy to alex, but what he hadn’t expected is how difficult it is to execute it

pairings: alex albon x fem!reader

warnings: literally nOthing just a buNCH OF CUTE SHIT

notes: YALL i’ve been simping for this man for like weeks but in my head, he’s just such a sweetheart that i can’t imagine him in bad situations and nOW I FINALLY GOT IT

also… i’m really liking these multiple scenario fics… if you guys have any suggestions with stuff you want to see, please feel free to send them in here and this has been in my drafts since october oh my gooooood

(f1 masterlist)

“you’re telling me you already bought the ring?” max raises an eyebrow at alex, completely baffled at the story his friend has chosen to bestow upon them.

to the question, alex nods. his head snaps to george, who then asks, “and you’ve had it for almost a month?”

again, the thai nods. “and you have yet to propose?” lando says his piece, just as shocked as the rest of the table is.

alex can only nod, dropping his head in disappointment. in the middle of their circular table sat a red velvet box. inside it is the ring that alex had very carefully picked out with his sisters and mother.

yet the diamond ring sits comfortably in the box instead of your finger. and so does he amongst his friends while he faces the million dollar questions as to why he’s had the ring and has yet to propose to you.

“are you having second thoughts?” charles speaks up, tilting his head and biting his lips in curiosity.

if the answer were to be a ‘yes’, that would be worrisome. considering alex is one of the more romantic people they all know.

“no,” alex finally speak, putting a firm hand down on the table. he meets all of their eyes and feels the judgement. he sighs. “i’m not having second thoughts. i want to marry (y/n) just as much as i said before.”

george lifts his hands up and throws alex a questioning shrug. “so what’s holding you back then?”

“well…” alex chews on the inside of his cheek. he glances down at the box and scrunches up his nose, recounting the numerous times he has tried to get on one knee for you.

“i’m afraid it’s really not that simple.”

-> 20 days ago

alex glances at the door of your shared apartment then his eyes jump to the clock hanging just above your decorative plant. you should be home any minute.

the living room has been decorated beautifully with the help of his sisters. there is a singular heart helium balloon tied down to the bouquet of roses that sits on the kitchen island.

he’s even dressed up in his best suit to greet you a warm welcome home.

he sinks further into his couch, shaking his leg in anticipation. he runs his thumb over the velvet material of the box.

alex hadn’t been planning on proposing to you so soon, if he were to be honest. but he woke up that morning to empty half of the bed, with a note in your handwriting reminding him how much you love him and that breakfast is on the table.

his heart felt so full and he just knew today is the day.

so he got up and called his sisters up. they decorated the house together. with their help, he at least has the slightest idea of what to say to you.

it would be embarrassing if he was stuttering every 5 seconds thinking of what to say to you next.

it was 15 minutes later that he started to get worried about you. you usually get home from work around the same time whenever he’s in town — give or take about 5 minutes.

as if you’d read his mind, his phone lights up with a text notification from you.

my car died. can you pick me up please?

without another question, he is already typing a response to let you know that he will be on the way. he adds on the fact that he will call a tow truck for you after you send him your location.

when he gets there, he sighs in relief that you’re safe. he’d already known you were stuck in the parking lot of a mcdonald’s, but how can he really know when he’s rarely home?

you’re sitting on the trunk of your car, eating some ice cream with your phone propped up a box of nuggets. you’re fully occupied by a video you’ve put on to accompany yourself during the wait.

“my love, why didn’t you sit in the car where the seat’s more comfortable?” alex asks as he opens the car door.

you turn your head and open your mouth with an answer, but immediately close it when he comes into view. your eyes scan him up and down, slowly gulping the remaining ice cream in your mouth.

you point at him with the spoon of your mcflurry. “why are you dressed all fancy? you were gonna go out, love?”

alex freezes. he hadn’t even thought of changing out of his outfit before coming to get you. now he has to scrape his brain for an excuse to throw you off, without sabotaging the relationship whole.

it’s like a lightbulb goes off in his head. you’ll totally buy the excuse. “i was giving my clothes a test run,” he giggles sheepishly, but hesitantly from the daggers you were shooting at him. “wanted to see what fit and what didn’t.”

he can almost envision the gears turning in your head as you process his lie. he sighs again when you turn away to lock your phone.

he’s a very bad liar. for two people who have been together for as long as you’ve been, it’s very easy to spot all his telltales.

he tries his best not to lie to you. today is when he’s exerting every single ounce of his ability to do so.

“my car battery died. i saw a screw lose when i’d checked,” you explain, gently climbing off the back of your car. you waddle over to him, lips puckered up as he bends down to meet your lips. “i’m sorry to trouble you, love. i’m sure you were enjoying your fashion show.”

he chuckles, pulling you in for a quick hug. “anything for you, my love.” he walks over to where you are and opens the mcdonald’s paper bag. “oh, you bought us dinner?”

“you dinner,” you correct him. you lean slightly into him with a loud and frustrated huff with your arms hanging around him loosely. “i’ve had such a long day at work today. it could really be deemed as the worst day; i just want to go home and relax.”

alex scrambles in his mind, thinking of several ways he can deviate you from the house a little longer. he makes a mental note to text his sister to do a quick cleanup before you make your way home.

he simply refuses to propose to you when you’re in a bad mood. he doesn’t think your answer would change depending on how you currently feel, but it just doesn’t feel right.

alex hums, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you. “what do you say we go to our spot up in the hills and chill for a little bit?”

he watches you in anticipation. if you didn’t agree, he really wouldn’t know what to do at all. there are only so many excuses he can make. and there's only so much time before his sisters can get to the apartment and get cleaning.

“hm, okay." you lean into him and squeeze him in your hug. “anywhere with you is relaxing.”

-> 18 days ago

so alex shall try again in the planned department. he is once again in your shared apartment. there is a singular rose this time with dinner on the table. this time, decorated by himself.

he’s practised in the mirror. what he should say. everything he had planned out a few days ago is forgotten as the nerves are slightly different this time.

he doesn't get nervous often, but whenever it comes to you, it's inevitable that it bothers him. when it first happened, it was a confusing feeling that he spent days pondering what exactly it is.

when george smacked his head and told him, he looked down shyly at the ground and nodded.

he got the same feeling when he asked you to be his girlfriend and met your parents.

his chosen seat is a bar stool this time, and he plays some games on his phone to remain calm and collected. though still a little bit distracted.

his attention is split between the phone in his hands and the door. occasionally, the footsteps in the hallway make his heart stop as he looks up and waits for a lock to click. it's never the door he wants to open.

his game is briefly interrupted, his mother's picture flashing on the screen while his phone buzzes. it's not unusual that she's calling, but it is a bit of a shock since she knows he's planning to propose tonight.

he picks up the call, an explanation as to why he hasn't texted at the tip of his tongue.

“i’m sorry, sweetie,” his mother’s panicked voice comes through the phone. “can you please come over? it’s an emergency.”

that’s all he needed to hear before he was darting all over the apartment. he’s popped the balloon, as there was clearly no need for it tonight, the rose is hiding behind a bunch of folded shirts in his drawer and the velvet red box goes back into the deepest pit of his underwear drawer.

this time, he remembers to change out of his clothes. it’s slightly less put together than before, but it was still an effort.

“alex, love?” the sound of the door opening makes him perk up. your voice bounces through the apartment, followed by the pitter-patter of the cats’ nails against the hardwood floor. “are you home?”

he stumbles out of your bedroom, pulling up his sweatpants. “i need to go over to mum’s.”

you stop dead in your tracks, the door still held open and the key in your hands. clearly, you notice his panic in the way he’s barely even greeted you. you raise your eyebrows and step aside, leaving a gap for him to go through the door.

“i can drive you if you want,” you offer him, watching him jog towards the car keys.

he’s shaking, and it’s noticeable from the way he’s struggling to find his wallet. his wallet that is very clearly sitting above the shoerack in the entryway.

you grab it swiftly and say his name. it makes him stop briefly, turning to you as he held up the couch’s cushion, still in search of his wallet.

you lift up the leather item and then show him your car keys. you nudge your head towards the hallway. “come on, i’ll drive.”

-> 10 days ago

third time's the charm, right? right?

alex sits in his chair, hands fixing his collar, then his hair, picking at the menu, and then the lace table cover.

"hey, love," you say from behind him, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead. "i'm sorry i'm late. there was traffic in the parking lot at the office."

"don't worry about it. i just arrived not too long ago." alex gets up to his feet, pulling you in for a tight hug. he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before running over to pull your seat back for you.

you thank him with the squeeze of his arm while you take your seat. you grab the menu and get comfortable in your seat. "have you looked at the menu yet?"

"not yet, i was waiting for you."

he feels like a stalker watching you from across the table. his hand is in his jacket's pocket, rubbing circles over the velvety material once more. when exactly is the right time to ask you?

"how was work?" alex starts, taking the menu into his hands, looking at you shyly as he awaits your response.

"it's alright. nothing out of the ordinary from me," you mutter with a shrug, flashing him a small grin before returning your attention to the menu. "the pasta looks good, don't you think?"

"i saw their salmon dish online - that looked good," alex answers. but he's been on the same page of the menu for a hot minute, his eyes have read the same item so many times that he has its description memorised.

all he can think of is how to transition to popping the question.

"it does look delicious... do you want to share a dessert after too?" you inquire, looking up at him with a huge smile. "i really want the lava cake."

"with vanilla ice cream?"

"of course!"

and you make small talk with him. which almost makes him forget the ring that's in the pocket of his jacket. you talk and he thinks and thinks and tries to find the perfect time to pop the question to you.

until your smile drops and your head angles to the side slightly. your lips part as your eyes move from his, over to the door in pure shock.

"love, what's wrong?" alex follows your moving gaze.

and he also freezes in his seat. it's his ex-girlfriend. the same exact person that you'd mentioned you thought you could never live up to.

all because his mother had slipped up and asked about her over casual conversation over dinner, and because you had noticed that his sisters still kept in constant contact with her.

he watches you, from the corner of his eyes, sink into your seat and drop your head. you press your lips together and give him a small smile. "maybe let's cancel dessert? i'm not very hungry."

-> now

"do you get why it's a little complicated now?" alex groans, throwing his head back. "it's not like i haven't tried."

charles presses his lips together, nodding slightly as he tries to assess the situation for himself. he hasn't proposed to anybody in his life, so what advice does he have to give his friend? "maybe you're overthinking it?"

"yeah," george nods. "maybe you just have to... ask her. just ask her."

"you're aware i'm proposing to her. i'm not just asking some random girl to be my prom date to the dance," alex lays out his situation slowly, scanning his friends' faces carefully.

they're not serious about just asking you without a whole get-up, are they? he never would have asked them if he'd known how minuscule this issue was to them. it's never as simple as just asking you to marry him.

it's an important question.

"actually, i think twiddle dee and twiddle dum have got a point," max smiles, pointing at their two other friends now rolling their eyes. "if it all keeps blowing up in your face when you plan your proposal, maybe you just need to do it when you... get the feeling. you know?"

"no."

"just do it when you're so overwhelmed at the thought of spending the rest of your life with her," george shrugs, taking a sip from his drink. "would help the nerves, and it makes it more genuine."

alex shakes his head. "i don't know. that doesn't make the moment very special, now, does it?"

"just try it, and then let me know."

-> 5 days later

"love!" your excited voice fills the house, prompting alex to lift his head from the armrest of the couch.

he'd been home all day, claiming a rest day from the gym and other press commitments before he had to do it all over again this weekend for another race.

"yes, love?" alex smiles, opening his arms, watching you walk out of the kitchen and excitedly walk over to him. "what's got you so preppy?"

"love, i was outside coming home from work, and i saw the cutest little snail right outside the apartment building," you giggle, dropping your bag by the foot of the couch. you drop yourself into his arms, adjusting yourself to fit the small space that the couch provides you. "i took a picture, look!"

"you took a picture of a snail?"

"yes!" you nod. "its shell looked so beautiful. and i even moved it to the side so that nobody could step on it unknowingly. just so sad when that happens to them."

and then he knows. it hits him, then and there, while you were rambling on about how beautiful this snail's shell is, that this is the moment. this is the moment that max was talking about.

he props his head up with his hand, nodding as you zoom into the picture you'd taken.

"we should get married," alex blurts, unable to hold himself back. the ring is not even with him - it's somewhere in the back of his closet. but it doesn't even seem like a necessary accessory for him at the moment.

"what?" you tilt your head, slowly dropping your hand into your lap. you sit up and look down at him. "alex, what did you say?"

"i have the ring and everything. hold on." alex scrambles to get off his seat, but you shake your head and put a hand over his chest. you pull him back into the couch, maintaining his position next to you with a puzzled stare.

"did you just say what i thought you just said?"

"yes. and i've been trying to propose to you all month," alex sighs, "something always goes wrong: your car broke down, my mum called, then we saw my ex in the restaurant. i tried setting it up, and of course, i ask you when i don't have the ring with me."

he's flailing his arms in the air as he explains his troubles to you, ultimately throwing his hands towards the direction of your bedroom before he slumps his shoulders and looks at you. "i wanted it to be a picture-perfect moment. i wanted it to be everything you dreamt about growing up. remember?"

"so i heard you right? you're asking me to marry you?" you can barely hide the smile growing on your face, eyes tearing up as you grab his hands. "i don't care about the ring. you're asking me to marry you?"

"do you still want to? i couldn't even propose to you right."

"of course, i want to marry you," you giggle, throwing your arms around him. you pepper his cheek with kisses, alex hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist as he leans back onto the couch. "i love you, alex. you just had to ask me the question. i don't care how, where or when you'd say it."

"obviously, i didn't know that until now," alex laughs. he buries his face into your hair, making a mental note to thank max next weekend for the helpful tip.

[ghouljams]

Could we get Cowboy!Ghost getting drunk off his ass making a fool of himself and being overly affectionate, confessing his love to Goose, all in all just being a mess of a drunk pretty please?

Of course Maelstrom anything for you 💜 I have a cowboy!König in the works for you and more cowboy!Soap "corruption kink" Mactavish cooking.

Simon is absolutely smashed. It's his own fault really, you told him you'd drink him under the table and he hadn't believed you. He isn't used to moonshine, you really should've stopped him before he got to this point, but it was so fun watching him go shot for shot with you. You're pretty sloshed yourself, but he is just... it's cute, it's really really cute.

You're crouched in the grass between his knees, rubbing his thighs, trying to ground him just enough that he won't vomit all over the place. Although that might be a good thing, get some of the liquor out of his system. No, the way he was boasting about being able to hold his liquor makes you think he'd be upset if you let him throw up.

"God, you've gotta get off your knees princess, give a man ideas." He slurs and if you weren't already so smitten with this man you might fall a little harder.

"Alright, shut yer eyes though, don't want you trackin' me with the spins," you wait for him to finish his grumbling and follow your order before you stand. You make the executive(drunken) decision to straddle his lap and he thumps his head onto your chest as soon as you settle on his lap.

His arms circle your waist and you let him hug you close to cuddle. You try not to coo at him as you thread your fingers through his hair, but he's so sweet like this you can't help one little affection. He grumbles more in response.

"Nobody told me you were gonna be a cuddly drunk," you grin, fingers dipping under his mask to scratch the back of his neck lightly. You press your thumb behind his ear, easy pressure points to keep the nausea at bay.

"'M not," you mumbles against your chest, you bite your lip and try not to laugh, "'m jus' in love with you." You are very much not laughing at that. Your fingers still and you feel Simon nuzzle against you, searching for more attention.

"You love me?" You whisper, because you don't want the rest of the group to hear. Their fun dims in the background, your world narrowing to just you and the man in your arms.

Simon hums an affirmative, "Want you to marry me, have my stupid fat babies."

"Babies? Plural?" Your brain latches on to the only thing it can, there's a non-zero chance Simon has blacked out and this is not how youre going to get engaged, "What happened to not fit to parent?"

He tips his head back, resting his chin against your sternum, the stars reflected in those gorgeous brown eyes you love so much. "I could do it with you," he tells you, and your heart could burst at how soft and honest he sounds, "I'm better with you."

God actually maybe this is how you want to get engaged. You want to bottle this moment, this look in Simon's eye, and save it for the rest of your life. His head moves with the steady rise and fall of your breaths, he looks at you like he never wants anything else than what he has right now. Just you and him sitting under the stars, breathing together.

You kiss him and he tastes like the best moonshine you've ever had, like canned peaches and stale tobacco, like the rest of your life, like Simon. His lips move against yours slow and gentle, he can never believe that a girl like you is kissing a guy like him. He savors everything you give him and then some.

The way you look when you wake up, the way you stretch your arms over your head and groan when you think no one's watching, the way you make every allowance for him and never ask him for anything but him in return. Why wouldn't he love you? Why wouldn't he tell you, show you, every chance he got.

"I love you too," you tell him softly, and his chest clenches so tight he thinks he might be having a heart attack out of shear joy.

"I'll get you a ring," he promises, and you really hope he hasn't blacked out because he's going to be real embarrassed in the morning if he remembers this.

"If we're being proper about this you gotta ask Daddy for my hand," you tell him just to watch him pout and shove his face back into your chest.

"Maybe we elope."

[azullumi]

i don't know if this counts as a request or not but i just want to know how do you think thoma, ayato, and tighnari say "i love you" to their s/o without actually saying it? it could be about love languages or anything, you're free to do what you want! i'm just really curious on what you think :) also, i love your writing so so much im in love with it <3

summary — there are many ways to say "i love you" and he has his own ways of saying it.

characters — ayato, tighnari, and thoma (w/ gender neutral reader)

tags — fluff, different love languages; headcanons

word count — 1116

a/n — hooray to the very first request that i have done! please don't hesitate in sending me more requests because ideas are not unlimited inside my head. anyways i hope this was what you wanted anon! ^^ i tried to do the best that i can in executing this idea because god it's hella cute

“What do you want? I'll get it for you.” — Kamisato Ayato

Gift-giving is definitely his love language. He’s the type of man to always spoil you with gifts, ranging from simple to extravagant ones. Even if you have never asked for those things, he always will and I mean what I mean with always when he has a gift for you daily. It can be a bouquet of flowers from another land or just your favorite ones or it can also be an accessory customized only for you. Nevertheless, he always has something to give you whether small or big.

If you ask him for something, he’ll immediately get it for you. Just mention it and you’ll have it at once on the foot of your doorstep. No cans, no ifs, no buts, it’s always a will. He will always find a way to get it even if it’s at the end of the world as long as it will make you happy.

You told him once how you would like to have the heart of a rainbow, an item that doesn’t exist in the continent of Teyvat nor in other lands and you only made up on the spot to see how he would react. But he… He fell into a deep thought and went: “Alright, however, it might take me a long time as that's the first time I have heard of that.” You couldn’t help but panic and explain that it was just a joke and the item actually doesn’t exist.

He remembers everything about you, especially what you like even if you only have mentioned it once in all of your conversations. You’ll suddenly find him giving you something, an item that you said you would like to have from a conversation that happened 4 months ago, and would apologize for only attaining it just now. It just renders you speechless whenever he does that.

Giving you all that you want is just one of the ways he shows his love for you. He has different means of showering you with affection but gift-giving just tops everything. It’s also one way to tell you that he is willing to do anything and give you anything, anything to make you stay, anything to keep you happy.

“You mean so much more to me than you think.” — Tighnari

This statement was an explanation for his actions that he has done and the words he has said. Tighnari might have never explicitly said those three meaningful words in a relationship but he finds ways to say it to you in different forms and would show it through his actions also. After all, saying “I love you” without having any form of base just feels so empty for him like promises that aren’t going to be kept. He prefers proving himself through a variety of words and acts.

He doesn’t mind anything as long as it’s you. He doesn’t mind teaching you everything that he knows as a Forest Ranger as long as it's you. He doesn’t mind accompanying you every time you have the urge to go deeper within the forest—he reasons that it is part of his task and he’s also there to look for some things but honestly, he just wants to be there with you. He also sometimes can’t help but overthink that something might happen to you once you go in alone because what if you encounter a dangerous situation and he’s not there. He just wouldn’t be able to rest easily. If ever he wouldn’t be able to accompany you, he’ll send Collei out with you.

He doesn’t mind doing anything as long as it’s for you. However, it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have any boundaries that he has set and as long as you respect and understand it, everything is fine. He doesn’t mind having his ears touched as long as it's you though, just ask for permission.

As such, neglect happens to himself especially at times of danger just to keep you safe and away from harm. He reasons that he is used to those things because of his work but seeing that look of worry and sadness on your face made him swear to not do it again.

He worries that you think that he always focuses on his job and would abandon you because of it so he tries his best to show you that you hold so much meaning to him and the thought of losing you has already made him overwhelmed with fear. 

“I always have time for you.” — Thoma

Thoma and his everlasting loyalty and consistency with his actions and words. Despite his busy schedule with his constant running around and assistance, he would always find ways to spend time with you. Even if his day is rough and he’s exhausted, he always finds his way to you and your arms. It just feels like he has an empty slot on his schedule saved just for you. 

One minute, you’ll find him all around Ritou, talking to the shopkeepers and helping them with any issues that they are experiencing, then the next, he’s having a walk with you on your side while holding your hands as he tells you about what he has learned from that day, all the stories and gossips that he got from the citizens that he has helped and gotten close with.

Of course, on his day-offs and breaks, he will always have it dedicated to you. He’ll take you out on his day-offs on a date that he has planned for a long time or he will seek you out on his breaks and invite you to lunch with him. He loves having picnics with you outside while you two are watching the scenery as the sun sets and when he’s free by the evening, you two would often have dinner together and would go on a walk to your favorite spot to watch the stars.

When he’s really exhausted, however, plans are canceled— if there is one—and you two would instead spend your time holding one another in each other’s arms while being lulled to chase after the much-needed rest. Those moments of peace and tranquility are greatly appreciated and are meant to be cherished.

Although, it doesn’t mean that he’s being pressured to always have some time on his day saved just for you. Being a housekeeper of the Kamisato Clan and a well-known “fixer” in Inazuma sounds like a really tough job so you do understand that there are times wherein he gets really busy and you two can’t spend time with one another. You simply love the fact that he always has time for you despite everything.

— navigation | masterlist

[nahoney22]

Hi! i love your writing and was wondering if you could do the tbb (or just tech if you dont wanna do all of them) reaction to their gender neutral S/O pulling out their old instrument or color guard equipment from their marching band days and practicing what they remember (i dont even know if star wars has an equivalent to marching band/color guard lol but i picked an old practice flag up for the first time since high school earlier and the thought popped into my head for this request..) feel free to disregard this if it’s not something you wanna write, keep up the amazing work!!

Colour Guard Memories

The Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

How The Bad Batch react to you pulling out your old instrument or colour guard equipment.

warnings: none, gender neutral reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, Batchers admiring/encouraging reader.

authors note: this is a really cute idea and sorry it has took so long to do anon. In the UK we don’t really have marching bands/ colour guards aside from royal parades from what I know so I’ve relied on Google to help me out 😅 enjoy!

Echo

"Think we've got everything?" Echo asks, sealing the final box of your belongings.

As you survey the sea of packed boxes, you're struck by the realisation of just how many possessions you've gathered over the years. It's only now, in the process of moving out of your family home, that the extent of it hits you. After what feels like an eternity of packing and stacking, you're finally done and you couldn’t be any more grateful for Echo's helping hand.

"I hope so," you reply, wiping your brow and straightening up, hands on your hips. "Now, all that's left is to get it onto the ship." The prospect of lugging boxes onto the ship isn't exactly thrilling, but you're itching to kick back and relax.

Echo chuckles and reaches for one of the sealed boxes, but disaster strikes as the bottom gives way, sending its contents tumbling to the floor. "Well, that's just great," he says wryly.

Letting out a sigh, you join him in gathering up the scattered items. Amidst the chaos, something catches your eye: an old, familiar object. "No way!"

Startled by your sudden excitement, Echo turns to you. "What is it?"

"It's my Sabre!" you exclaim, holding up the cherished item for him to see.

He blinks in surprise. "Uh, your lightsaber?"

You playfully roll your eyes at Echo, a mischievous glint in your eyes, as you take the equipment into your hands and wave it at him. "You've known me long enough to know I'm not a Jedi, Echo," you tease, giving the Sabre a quick twirl. "It's from when I used to be be a colour guard for a marching band."

Echo chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "I didn't know you did that."

"Yeah! I loved it. Want to see what I can still do?" you ask, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"The floor's all yours," he says, stepping back to give you space.

You take a moment to steady yourself, feeling the weight of the stainless steel Sabre in your hands. With a deep breath, you begin your routine, the familiar movements flooding back to you. As you twirl the Sabre with practiced precision, you can't help but feel a surge of nostalgia. However, in the midst of your performance, disaster strikes as the Sabre slips from your grip, narrowly missing a nearby window.

"Okay, okay, I'm a little rusty. Give me a second," you laugh sheepishly, quickly retrieving the saber and regaining your composure but Echo was still smiling and impressed throughout.

Determined to redeem yourself, you focus on each movement, executing smooth transitions and intricate spins. With each flourish, you feel a sense of satisfaction, the familiar rhythm of the routine bringing back fond memories. As you finally come to a graceful finish, you can't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you.

Echo applauds, a smile playing on his lips. "That was really impressive. You should've told me you could do that before."

"We all have our hidden talents," you grin, a twinkle in your eye as you admire the old memory in your hand before carefully tucking it back into the box. "Anyway, we should probably get going before I get distracted again."

“Well,” he says, resting a hand on your shoulder, “you should perform for me again sometime. If you want to that is.”

There’s a shine in his eyes, genuinely in awe of you and your talent. “I’ll definitely think about it.”

Hunter

Low on credits and desperate for some food to fill your stomachs, you and Hunter venture into a bustling market on a remote planet, hoping to find some opportunity to earn a bit of cash.

"See anything?" Hunter asks, strolling alongside you as you take in the sights and sounds of the market.

"Not really," you reply with a frown. The market is dimly lit, offering little in the way of useful materials, and the locals don't seem particularly welcoming. It's no wonder Hunter insisted on accompanying you.

But then, something does catch your eye. "Hey, that looks like one of my old flags," you remark, pointing to a colorful flag tucked away at the back of a small pop-up stall.

Hunter stops beside you, his interest piqued. "You used to spin those, didn't you?"

You chuckle at his phrasing, yet surprised that he remembers since it was just something you mentioned in passing once. "Yeah, I did. Not sure if I still have the touch, though."

A smirk spreads across Hunter's face as he holds up a finger, indicating for you to wait a moment. A bit embarrassed, you watch as he approaches the seller and strikes up a conversation. After a brief exchange, Hunter returns, flag in hand. "Let's put that theory to the test, shall we?" he suggests with a grin.

"Hunter! Did you just pay for that?" you exclaim incredulously as he shoves the pole into your hand.

"No," he says with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But they said if you can impress them, you can keep it."

You narrow your eyes at him, a mixture of amusement and disbelief dancing in your gaze. "Fine. But I'm warning you," you declare, stepping into a clearing and scanning the area to ensure there's enough space before attempting to recreate a routine you haven't performed in years. "I'm not as good as I used to be."

Taking a deep breath, you grip the pole firmly and let muscle memory take over as you start spinning the flag with practiced precision. The fabric unfurls in vibrant arcs, catching the sunlight and casting colorful patterns across the ground. With each twirl and flourish, you feel a surge of nostalgia as memories of your days in the colour guard come flooding back.

As you continue your impromptu performance, you can't help but lose yourself in the rhythm of the routine, the flag becoming an extension of your body as you spin and swirl with grace.

Hunter is watching you silently and appears to be actually enamoured by your performance. His eyes are wide in surprise.

When you finally come to a graceful finish, you turn to Hunter with a triumphant smile, the flag held aloft in your hand. "How's that for impressing them?" you ask, a hint of pride in your voice.

“That was… wow.” Is all he says, a proud smile on his face. He takes one look to the seller who just gives a brief nod. “And the flag is yours it seems.”

Hunter comes up beside you once more but you feel a tug on your top, turning to face a young child who was holding out credits to you. Bashfully, you accept and the credits swiftly came flooding in.

“Heh, seems like you still got it.” He nudges your side playfully.

This could be a pretty safe way to earn some extra credits it seems.

Wrecker

"Wrecker, come look at this!" you call out excitedly, beckoning your companion over.

With Wrecker's assistance in tidying up the Marauder and transferring some items to the Remora, you stumble upon an unexpected treasure: an old snare drum tucked away amidst the clutter.

"Woah, what's tha’?" Wrecker asks, intrigued, as he joins you on the floor, his eyes fixed on the instrument in your hands.

"I used to play it in a marching band. Forgot I even had it," you reply with a wistful smile, the memories of your band days flooding back, tinged with nostalgia and a touch of sadness for times gone by.

Wrecker notices the flicker of emotion on your face and decides to lift your spirits. "Well, go on then. Give us a beat," he encourages, nudging the drum closer to you and offering a drumstick.

You smile gratefully, feeling a rush of anticipation as you accept the drumstick from his outstretched hand and pick up the matching one from the ground. "Just so you know," you say with a playful glint in your eye, "it sounds much better in a chorus rather than individually."

With a deep breath, you position the drumsticks in your hands, feeling the familiar weight and texture of the material. Closing your eyes, you let muscle memory guide your movements as you begin to play. The rhythmic tapping of the drum reverberates through the air.

As you lose yourself in the music, your fingers move effortlessly across the drum's surface, producing a lively beat that echoes off the walls of the ship. With each stroke, super fast and then skilfully slow, you feel a sense of liberation.

Wrecker watches in awe, a grin spreading cross his face as he listens to the infectious rhythm you create. For a moment, all worries and cares fade away, replaced by the joy of listening to you play. Flourishing a finish, your cheeks warm to Wrecker applauding enthusiastically.

"Tha’ was amazing!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You've still got it."

You grin, feeling a surge of pride at his words. "Thanks, Wrecker," you reply, a sense of contentment washing over you. "Maybe we should start our own band."

“Definitely!”

Tech

"Is this yours?" Omega's voice interrupts your thoughts, drawing your attention to the slim case she's holding. As you approach, a wave of nostalgia washes over you at the sight of the familiar case.

"I haven't seen this for a long time," you smile warmly, taking the case into your hands. Kneeling down, you blow the dust off and flip open the lid, revealing your old clarinet nestled inside.

Omega's eyes widen with curiosity as she peers at the instrument. "Wow, that's cool! Did you play it?"

You nod, a fond smile on your face. "Yeah, I used to. In a colour guard and in parades."

"Can you play something now?" she asks eagerly.

Before you can respond, Omega suddenly calls out, "TECH! COME HERE!"

Tech, engrossed in his data pad, looks up in surprise and heads your way. "What is the nature of my presence this time, Omega?"

Omega launches into an exaggerated explanation of your discovery and her request. "Listen to them play."

Tech adjusts his goggles and looks down at you with curious eyes. "I was not aware you could play any instrument."

"I haven't in a long time," you admit sheepishly, wiping the mouthpiece and adjusting the bridge keys. "But I can give it a try."

With a deep breath, you bring the clarinet to your lips and begin to play a soft, melancholic tune. The notes fill the air, weaving a gentle melody that seems to resonate with the quiet stillness of the surroundings. It was a gentle tune, a stark difference to the ones you played in parades.

As you play, you notice Tech glancing up from his data pad, his expression softening as he listens intently to the music. It's a rare sight to see him so engrossed in something other than his work, and you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that your music has captured his attention.

By the time you finish the piece, Tech is still watching you, a thoughtful look on his face.

Omega bursts into a loud applause meanwhile Tech smiled at you. “I would not mind you playing that whilst I do some repairs... it’s rather relaxing.”

Crosshair

“What are you doing?” Crosshair's voice breaks your concentration mid-performance, and you freeze as your arms flail, causing the wooden rifle to slip from your grasp and clatter onto the grass.

You spin to face the clone, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. "I found my old rifle from when I used to perform," you explain quickly, bending down to retrieve the prop. With a flick of your foot, you send it spinning into the air, catching it effortlessly as it falls back down. "Want to see?"

Crosshair eyes the rifle with a hint of intrigue, his skepticism giving way to mild interest. "Perform? Rifles are for shooting. Not messing around with.”

“It’s wood, idiot.” You knock on the equipment before you then shrug, a sheepish grin tugging at your lips. "Anyway, it’s called rifle spinning. I used to do it as part of a routine in a performance group. It's more about coordination and showmanship than anything else. Wanna see?” You ask again.

Crosshair nods slowly, his gaze lingering on the rifle as you twirl it expertly in your hands. He stands back as you shows off your moves and he couldn’t hide the small impressed smirk forming on his lips. "You’re quite impressive I’ll give you that. But don't let it distract you from our mission." The compliment was rare but not one you were going to refuse as you give him a smile of thanks. But, he was right. There were more pressing matters at large.

You chuckle, nodding in agreement as you secure the rifle back in its holster. "Of course not. Just a little trip down memory lane."

Masterlist

Tags:

@littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 7 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix x @mssbridgerton @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @green-alm0nd

[kayentokk]

Could u do how mha characters would react giving them a hug? (Requesting for izuku,bakugo,denki,aizawa and kirishima) thank u!

pairing; Midoriya Izuku, Bakugo Katsuki, Kaminari Denki, Aizawa Shōta, and Kirishima Eijiro x GN! Reader(separate)

contains; fluff, hugs

wc;616

A/N; Np! This is such a cute idea. I hope I executed it well💕

Giving MHA characters a hug

-Midoriya Izuku-

🥹

ofcccc

he would love to get a hug from you

he loves hugs in general

but from you

it would be a real treat

when you embrace him he has the brightest smile on his face ever

I mean bby lit up like a light fr

he hugs you back tightly, but not too tight

when you start to pull away he almost snatches you back before mumbling out a small

‘can we hug for a little longer please?’

and who were you to deny this sweet boy some more hug time

hes srsly so cute

-Bakugo Katsuki-

sigh

here we go

first of all how do you even start up that convo

“hey ma-”

“no”

so obviously 🙄 he’s not the asking type

I believe he would prefer more assertive anyway or smth ya know

you hafta kinda catch him off guard

but that’s hard bcuz he’s a hero so nothing really catches him off guard

Your best bet is to sneak up behind him and back hug him

which is once again not possible

he already heard your footsteps

but let’s it slide making you think you caught him off guard

cuz ya know he’s just washing dishes

honestly I believe that those are his favorite hugs

you don’t have to see the tint of pink on his cheeks to know he has one

he doesn’t have to say anything

it’s just peaceful

don’t take it for granted tho cuz within 5-10 seconds bro is like

‘’Kay already y’big softie, get off’

but he secretly, not so secretly, loves it

you know

-Kaminari Denki-

Denki is the literal definition of-

‘heyyy where’s my hug at?’

except for he’s not the creepy annoying type that you don’t like

he’s the friendly type that you looove to get hugs from

so most of the time he’s giving the hugs

You’re just so cuddly to him and he can’t help it

something about having you in a nice squeezing embrace is calming to him

I’m a firm believer that if you ask him for a hug

he’ll give it to ya

10 fold

cuz he’s just so hyper

he can’t tell when the hug is over because he could just stay like that with you for days

you might hafta give him a small

‘Denki’

and tap him before he lets go

-Aizawa Shōta-

inhale

exhale

now-

Listen

if you catch him out of that sleeping bag

by allllll means

take your chance

any chance

before he goes back in

While he’s poring his coffee

just go stand behind him

just wait patiently until he turns around

I mean he already knows you’re there he feels the eyes boring into the back of his head burning a hole

and then bam

Force your way into his arms

man he is so soft and cuddly

he’ll jolt a little give you a small exasperated sigh

and then a grumble of

‘Y/n you could’ve gotten burned, be mindful’

then he’ll nudge you off after a couple seconds

and walk away content

-Kirishima Eijiro-

he’s the fluffiest biggest rock boy ever

you can ask him for a hug anytime

but most of the time he’s the one giving them

because he just knows

had a rough day?

tired?

just want a hug?

He knows it’s like his sixth sense

so when he comes up to you with the sharpest white teeth smile ever and his arms outstretched

How could you not hug him back

and for him to be a so built

and for his quirk to be rock

you’d be surprised because

He’s so comfortable

you could hug him all day

and he would let you

Thank you for this request. Sorry it took me a while to post it. :)

@/cafekitsune fir the divider

[schlattsdoll]

I would love to read about frat president schlatt x nerdy college student reader (perhaps smut)

Like they have a class together but never really talked until reader was dragged into going to a frat party his frat hosted and them getting to know one another and what not. Then schlatt asks reader to help him study for a test in their shared class and it gets all spicy.

Sorry if this is bad I’m just obsessed with the idea of schlatt being in a frat lolz

we love fratboy!jschlatt in this house

minors dni

getting dragged to a frat party was NOT how you wanted to spend your friday night, yet here you were in the KAT house, abandoned by your roommate and left alone in a corner. a large man walked over to the corner you were occupying and smiled down at you. “hey, you’re in my intro to philosophy class right? you sit right in front of me.” your face lights up with recognition, “oh yeah! johnathan right?” he physically cringes at his name,“please call me schlatt. all my friends do. or for girls as cute as you, jay.”

a warmth washes over your cheeks, he smirks down at you, keeping up his innocent flirting. you two stuck by each others sides the whole time, making some hopeless sorority girls very jealous. you two have so much fun, neither of you realize you haven’t had a single drink.

as the night wound down, he eventually asked for your number and how you’d be getting home. “well i would be walking back with my roommate but she’s mia right now.” jay frowns, knowing how dangerous it is for you to walk alone, even sober. “how about i give you a ride, or walk with you?” you nodded your head at the taller male and agreed happily.

the fifteen minute drive was spent talking about majors, you learned his was business, and how if he didn’t get his grades up he’d be kicked off the executive board. “well i can always help you out, im pretty good if i do say so myself.” that was an understatement, you were top of the class. he’d seen how you answered questions and even gave the professor questions he’d have to think about. “yeah for sure! meet you at the library tomorrow? how’s six?”

“it’s a date jay.” you smiled and he kissed your cheek gently. “i’ll text you tomorrow okay? get home safe.”

as always, my inbox is open for requests! please send them in 💚

[leonsbunny]

No Alarms And No Surprises ( Please ) ♡

( Re8!retired!Chris Redfield x GN!reader || retiring is harder than he thought ♡ retired!married!au , some angst w/ comfort ofc ♡ mentions of minor injuries/guns but nothing too graphic )

Chris flinched slightly as you dab ointment onto his palms. Instinctively, he puts his thumb in his mouth after you put ointment on it. He spits, gags a bit at the sterile taste of ointment on his thumb. His face sours at the taste. He had no idea why he did that or why he decided grabbing flowers from a nearby bush was a good idea before coming home.

Cute idea, bad execution. At least he tried. It's the thought that counts, right?

You sigh softly, holding the back of his hand in yours as you watch his whole ordeal unfold right in front of you. “My god Chris- be careful next time- don't put your thumb in your mouth-” you cut him off before he tries putting his thumb in his mouth again to sooth the cuts on the pad of his thumb. He freezes in place, stiffening up like a statue in his seat.

“Sorry…” He says in a low voice, apologizing for no reason at all. It wasn't his fault, in your eyes. In his eyes, it was his fault. For making you worry. Worrying for the worrywart didn't suit you. Doesn't suit you, at least in his eyes.

His eyes fall onto the bouquet of flowers on your coffee table, hastily put together with a somewhat rushed muted pink bow tying the whole thing together. He did what he could to make them look pretty. Chris wasn't the best at tying bows. Or putting together bouquets. He wasn't made for this type of life. At least, that's what he thought.

Domestic life didn't suit him, he told himself. He stares down at his hands, all cut up with a somewhat shiny sheen from the ointment you put on them. Cut up from picking flowers, not from fighting. Not from using guns.

“I just thought it'd be nice if I brought home flowers for you - I didn't know they had thorns, okay?” He says, looking over at your worried face. Seeing you looked so concerned for him hurt more than the palms of his hands. Stung more than the feeling of thorns pricking his skin.

“Still.” You get up from the floor, sitting next to him on the couch. His hands rest in yours, his much larger hands face up towards the ceiling. Yours support his, underneath the warmth of his hands was yours. Under his calloused palms were your soft ones.

“You still should be careful.” You look up at him, eyes filled with worry for your husband. “I'd rather you come home empty handed than with cut-up hands and roses for me, Chris.” You glance down at his hands, frowning softly. He didn't like seeing you like this either.

“I'm sorry.” He frowns, repeating his words from earlier in a more soft tone.

Domestic life was scarier to him, scarier than the things he's seen on the field. The warm feeling in his chest scared him, and it felt like something was blooming in his heart the more he looked at you. This feeling of comfort was foreign, a feeling that he didn't think he deserved.

Retiring was scary. He didn't know what to expect now. Everything was calmer. Softer. That scared him.

“You don't have to apologize.” You lean closer to him, lowering your head to look directly at him. The way your eyes softened on him made him feel something he couldn't really put into words. Safe? Loved? You made Chris feel a lot of things.

“I know but-” Chris cuts himself off, thinking it'd be for the best if he just shut himself up. “Flowers or not, I'll still love you.” You lean in for a kiss, softly pressing your lips against his cheek. “You don't need flowers to win me over again and again, you know that? I'll love you no matter what.” your words make him smile to himself, stupidly feeling your kiss linger on his cheek.

♡ ⊹ ۫ ۪ ꒰͡₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ reblogs n' feedback r greatly appreciated !! support ur local fanfic writers !! ♡ ͡꒱

[grogusmum]

A Smutty Little Jack Daniels Imagine

I've tried to do a Jack "Whiskey" Daniels fic several times, and I just can't get beyond the idea phase...

Maybe I just can't find him, his voice, something unique I can bring to him... I don't know.

Here is one, still just in an imagine/idea phase, I have literally posted and taken down, and I just don't know if it's something... but chatting with @oonajaeadira , she reminded me who I write for and why, so decided to post it again. We write for ourselves but we share for community. I hope you enjoy.

Warning: poorly executed oral sex (f receiving) it's a pity really

Okay, Ginger pretty clearly lets us know that Jack is not the best lover. But generally speaking, as a fandom, we have decided that Jack is a far more generous and skilled lover than canon tells us . Maybe because it's Pedro (and we literally can not imagine it), or because he has such a sincere and tragic love for his high school sweetheart wife and their little baby whom he has lost... idk. So I was thinking, what if we allow the canon to stand?

Jack Facts:

Fact #1: Can't find your clit to save his life

Fact #2: No foreplay to speak of

Fact #3: He's just terrible, just really bad

Until he meets you...

maybe even at the very same Music Festival that he got swiped left at

You see him go up to Coachella Girl with all his corny swagger and get rejected

But look at him, that dimple, that pout, those jeans, did he say 'what's tinder'?? Adorable

She instead goes for the guy in the track suit jacket and ball cap, cute for sure, but a boy

So you decide chat up "Stetson"

After some flirting, you conclude he is incredibly corny and bit of a goofball, but there's an undeniable charm

You like him and take him back to where your staying

He really talks himself up

All "Ride a real cowboy" "have you calling my name as loud as you want" yada yada

You wonder if he's all talk

But he's a good kisser, a very good kisser, and him calling you "sugar" does something to you

Alas, when you get down to it, his head between your legs, broad shoulds keeping them open wide, he is enthusiastic but sadly incompetent

Every once in awhile he brushes your clit with his mustache or that gorgeous nose and it's a fleeting glimps of heaven but he completely misreads every moan and gasp and does more of what ever the hell his mouth is doing

It's bad if you want him to slow down he speeds up, more to the left he does to the right, no instinct

Finally, you pull him up with sigh

Oh my Gods, he is looking at you with puppy dog eyes. With all his big talk, you'd think the problem is that he is a selfish lover, but you can see he wants to please you

So you are kind and ask him about his experience

He can't tell you about the spy aspect of his experience, of course, but what he does tell you gives you the picture of a whole lot if one-off experiences

You ask if there has been anyone he's reslly gotten to know and experiment with

And his high-school sweet heart - love of his life - wife comes into the conversation

He doesn't say, but you can tell she was somehow taken from him, tgeres a bittersweet shine in his eyes

He admits they were each others first- shy and inexperienced and pretty straightforward in their lovemaking but enthusiastic

You nod and tell him if it were you in high school and he simply put his hand on your knee, you would have melted

He looks down with a crooked smile and then up at you with those hopeful big brown puppy eyes

"Okay," you say, "can you be a good listener, Jack?" He nods enthusiastically. "Get down there, cowboy, I think we can sort this whole thing out."

[crooked-wasteland]

Hazbin Hotel Live Blog: Overture

. While I am being kind to the show as it is, I cannot push out of my mind the fact that this is still Vivienne Medrano, and while this seems to be an interesting direction the series is considering to take the story, I am lacking any intrigue. Medrano has a knack for interesting ideas, but once executed are often trimmed down from all nuance and then played in the most straight forward and storybook fashion.

Evil existed before and separate from Lucifer

Eve is linked to the root of evil through the animation

Dichotomy of Lilith and Lucifer

Why does Heaven think Hell will rise up?

Charlie is reading the storybook to herself. Aloud. And the reason is because she’s like a child seeking comfort. Also Charlie’s delivery of “Pretty worked up” is just feeling off. Like isn’t this supposed to be a somber moment? Why is it delivered so chipper? The pilot had her crying and singing a lamentation. Downgrade.

Info dump dialogue

“This kingdom was something she really cared about.”

Vaggie’s voice is such a downgrade. She sounds so uninterested.

“Daddy issues by fixing you” So alastor knows about Charlie’s family situation already.

The lineart around Alastor is so distracting. It’s so bizarrely thick.

I wish there was no dialogue

Her dad calls her but she is supposed to have a strained relationship.

I feel like Medrano doesn’t know what Angel Dust is. As in the actual drug. PCP is not Cocaine.

That was the worst segue into a song I ever saw.

“If you dont mind the smell, it’s a happy day in hell.” I hate this line.

Vaggie just never sounds right, does she? Her singing is so nasal dominate it doesn’t sound like her throaty modal voice.

What was the contract? What did it say? Why even have Charlie sign anything if we have no concept of what that is? It is such a rip off from Ariel’s contract in the Little Mermaid that it feels more like an Easter egg than relevant to the story actively being told. You need to show why the actions happening are taking place, you cant just do things and expect us to pick up the pieces for you. Are you trying to get across that Heaven is full of bureaucracy and paperwork? There is no receptionist and no other person in the building until she signs ONE paper. You failed at portraying an overabundance of bureaucratic red tape and it is distracting and infuriating. All I see are the better DISNEY MOVIES that were clearly just plagiarized. Not an homage, not inspired. Plagiarized.

Lucifer calls Charlie to meet Adam. Adam says he knows. So this doesn’t feel like this is Charlie filling in, the way the dialogue is written is that it was specifically planned for Charlie to meet Adam.

Everything has a gradient.

I bet $15 that the Dickmaster portion of Adam’s dialogue was Alex Brightman’s improv. I was not impressed by his Kaiju Dick improv in Oops and this is just as flaccid. Pun intended.

There is a clear discccrepency in talent between Alex and Erika. He has such a smoother voice and range while Erika feels like a Disney understudy where every delivery is pretty much identical to the last. Like the songs themselves are not doing her any favors. They range from bad to mediocre, and even in the better songs, there is always one horrifically bad lyric that just ruins the entire experience.

I like Lute. She feels like Peridot.

RIP Katie Killjoy.

Nifty is cute. The joke for her had a lot of potential of being hilarious but didn’t meet my threshold of comedy due to lacking a feel for Nifty. Imagine if she was in every scene with Vaggie talking her head off and never shutting up. Then when Vaggie is like, “If anyone can sell this hotel, it’s Nifty.” And we had this foundation that Nifty is known for being a huge chatterbox only to then be dead silent when the camera is on her. It would have been hilarious. But we see her once and she has one singular line previous. So it just feels like a cheap visual gag.

As a musical, it is lackluster. I see that Evil is something separate from Lucifer and something he dislikes. Lucifer is said to see free will as a spring of creativity, but humans used it to suck and that killed Lucifer’s love of life. In the meantime, Lilith is empowered by Hell. Hell fuels her sense of freedom, which she spreads through her “songs”. Only for her to just vanish I guess. She just hopes out without a word, Charlie says she must be doing something important over the last 7 years, but no inclination on what important things Lilith would be doing. Additionally, Lilith is said to have loved Hell, like Charlie. So it sets up this idea that Lucifer dislikes Hell or even hates it, while Lilith revels in it. Alluding to their marriage falling apart from this dissonance. At the same time, Lucifer calls Charlie to meet with Heaven, despite the pilot being canon. So we get the impression that Charlie and Lucifer had a falling out (“Maybe dad was right.”) but she doesn’t have much more than surprise at her father calling. Then he just sets up this meeting for her to meet with Adam off screen entirely. It is unclear how this was conveyed, but Lucifer doesn’t believe in Charlie and her meeting Adam has nothing at all to do with her hotel.

But the way Adam talks about the meeting is unusual in that it gives the impression that it wasn’t about Charlie “filling in”, but that this whole meeting was specifically set for Charlie and Adam. This is compounded by how the ending reads like they didn’t know if the angel was dead until that moment. So the extermination being moved up has nothing to do with the angel’s death. Maybe I’m wrong, but this all feels really disjointed.

But Lute really is just Peridot. So much so that when asked what I liked about the episode, I literally said “Peridot”, not Lute. The one good aspect of this episode is another stolen concept from a better show with a more competent creator. But I also like Alex Brightman’s singing. He is very talented and he does elevate the material by really playing with his delivery, but it’s still at best Mid due to the weak lyrics,

3/10

[charrywoman]

No Amount of Freedom Gets Me Clean.

Part 1

OKAY. IS THIS GOOD?? IS THIS BAD?? I’m returning to my tumblr author era because I had this idea and just had to execute. I THINK IT WILL BE A SERIES BC I HAVE A PLAN?? WOULD ANYONE WANT THAT OR IS THIS A FLOP? LMK! anyway, enjoy:)

A crimson glow spread across your cheeks as he gently swiped at the smudge of chocolate in the corner of your lips. You giggled when he popped his thumb in his mouth and said something corny about how sweet you tasted. The laugh was fake, forced even, and anyone who knew you knew that. Peter knew that. It went unnoticed by him though as you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, murmuring a thank you.

“You know,” MJ sat down across from Peter and Ned. “I don’t think that angry scowl is going to make Harry’s head spontaneously burst into flames. Unfortunately.”

Peter didn’t bother to look away, shrugging as he said, “Maybe if I stare for just a little bit longer it will.” He was practically squirming in his seat with jealousy. It was torture watching you be so disgustingly but undeniably cute with someone like Harry freaking Osborn, but Peter told himself that he deserved it, so he kept watching.

MJ didn’t even have time to quip back because in the next second Peter was furiously whispering that you were walking toward them and demanding her and Ned act casual. She rolled her eyes. “You’re literally the one being a weirdo.”

“Hi, MJ. Hi, Ned.” You smiled, purposely ignoring Peter while emptying your lunch tray into the trash can beside their table. Three weeks ago Peter insisted that he, MJ, and Ned start sitting at the specific table.

It was weird for everyone to see you and Peter at such odds. The two of you had always been inseparable. Where there was you, there was Peter. It had been that way since you and your mom moved next door to Peter when you were 6-years-old. May called you “her Peter’s saving grace.” You came into Peter’s life just after he moved in with her and Ben, and she says that it was his friendship with you that made him blossom. And then came Ned. And then MJ. The four of you just made sense, but most of all, so did you and Peter.

You laid upside down on Peter’s bed while kicking your legs back and forth in the air, flipping aimlessly through a comic book that was already there.

“Wow. They’re really generous when illustrating your ass. It is definitely not that big in person.” You held out the page next to Peter’s own body and pretended to compare the two. “What are you doing reading comic books about yourself anyw-” Peter snatched the comic book from your hands.

“Heeeyyy,” you playfully whined, “I was just getting to the good part. You were about to share a passionate kiss with the girl whose cat you rescued from a tree. What a hero.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “You’re so annoying.” He sat down on the bed next to you, and you maneuvered your body to mirror his position.

“Yeah,” you agreed, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning over to press a sloppy, dramatic kiss to his cheek. “But you looovvveee me.”

You pulled away from Peter but left your head resting on his shoulder, and he instinctively laid his cheek against your crown.

“Yeah, you’re right. I do.”

Mr. Cobbwell was background noise as you doodled hearts and stars and flowers all over your notebook page. Chemistry used to be your favorite part of the day, it was the only class that you, MJ, Ned, and Peter all had together. Now, you dreaded it.

“Isn’t that right, Ms. Y/L/N?”

You looked up from your notebook paper for the first time since class started. “Uh, I’m sorry. What was the question? I was-”

Cobbwell cut you off with a sigh. “Don’t forget about seeing me after class, okay?”

You nodded and pretended to pay attention for a few minutes to satisfy him before going back to drawing. After Cobbwell called you out it felt like time was going by agonizingly slow. When the bell finally rang, you let go of breath you didn’t know you were holding.

As if it weren’t awkward enough, only you and Peter were left in the classroom when you walked up to Cobbwell’s desk.

“You wanted to see me?” You asked, toying with the strap of your backpack.

“Yes,” He sat back in his chair. “I want to talk about your grades, Y/N. What’s going on? You’ve dropped two letter grades since September, and you’re on the way to dropping another considering you failed the last exam. You went from being my top student to barely qualifying to be in AP Chemistry.”

You lowered your head awkwardly. It was silent between the two of you for a few moments as you thought of something to say.

“So,” Cobbwell continued. “That’s why I’ve assigned you a tutor. If you complete the 6-week assistance course and your improvement is evident on the next exam, then I’ll be willing to give you enough extra credit to keep you from entirely failing the course. But the grade you get at the end of the semester is totally up to you. No more favors. Sound good?”

“Mr. Parker,” Cobbwell waived Peter over to his desk. Both you and Peter stood in shock as you realized what was happening. “Peter is going to be your tutor for the next 6 weeks. The two of you used to be my dynamic chemistry duo. I want to see that again!”

This can’t be happening.

“Mr. Cobbwell, when you said you needed me to tutor one of your students I didn’t realize that,” Peter paused for a moment trying to find the right words. “Um. I didn’t realize you meant Y/N.”

“Is that an issue, Peter? I asked you to help a student who is struggling in Chemistry, and you said yes. Are you not capable of making good on your word? Do I need to find someone else for the job?” Cobbwell was lecturing now, attempting to make Peter feel guilty.

“No. No, it’s fine. I can do this.” Peter said as he turned to look at you. “We can do this.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Great!” Cobbwell clapped his hands together. “Then, get to studying! Y/N has plenty to catch up on.”

The frame of your body was shrinking as you hurried ahead of Peter in the hallway. He was out of breath when he finally caught up to you at your locker.

“You’re failing chemistry?” Peter asked, concerned. You avoided his question and continued shoving books in your lockers

“Hey,” Peter grasped your arm just as it was about to dive back into your backpack. For the first time in four months, you looked back at him. His heart was beating impatiently against his chest like it was waiting for him to pour out every thought and feeling he had since the last time you spoke to him.

Your face softened for a moment and Peter took that as his cue to continue. “Talk to me, Y/N. You’re failing chemistry? That’s not like you. You love chemistry. And you definitely love being better than me at it.”

You pulled your arm away from him. “It’s not a big deal, Peter.” You shut your locker door. “Look, let’s just get this over with and do what we have to do for the next 6 weeks. This doesn’t change anything between us.”

Peter nodded. Deep down he had already known that, but a small part of him hoped that just maybe it was going to change things.

Behind Peter, you noticed Ned and MJ walking toward the two of you with confused faces. “I’ll be at your place at 7 tonight. May still has dinner at 6 sharp, right? So, you’ll be ready by then. Great. See ya.” You didn’t even give Peter time to answer before you turned your back to him to catch up with Harry and his friends.

Peter was still watching you walk away when Ned and MJ reached him.

“Um. What was that about?” Ned asked.

“I think I’m Y/N’s tutor?”

Peter thought if he ignored the clock that time would go by quicker. He has spent the last half hour toying with the food on his plate, not daring to take a bite. He was nervous, but he wasn’t sure why. It was just Y/N, Peter had told himself. That’s just it, though. It was you. Peter felt like he had been given a second chance to fix things with you, and he wouldn’t mess it up this time. He was desperate.

Peter groaned when he looked at the clock again and only 3 minutes had passed.

“Okay,” May sat her own fork down to her plate. “What’s up?”

Peter hadn’t told her yet. He didn’t know how. “Hey, I know it’s been four months since Y/N last came over and then disappeared with little to no explanation at all for either of us, but she’s going to be here in 15 minutes!” May would just make a big deal of it and he didn’t need that right now.

As if on cue, two knocks came from the door. May looked at Peter quizzically, as if to say “Who could that be?” But Peter knew.

May opened the door. “Y/N?” She engulfed you in a tight hug. “Y/N! Peter it’s Y/N! Y/N is here. What are you doing here? We’ve missed you so much haven’t we, Peter? You know what, I’m going to go whip up a batch of those cupcakes you and Peter have always loved. The ones that are made with cookie dough instead of cake batter? I can’t believe this! Come in, come in!” May didn’t really give you much of a choice though since she was already pulling you inside.

“Actually, May, um..Peter and I have some studying to do tonight.”

“Oh. Oh, that’s fine, honey. It’s too late for sweets anyway. I’m always getting ahead of myself.” The disappointment in her voice made you feel guilty. You avoided her gaze, shifting back and forth on your feet as an attempt to no seem awkward.

Peter was fast to change the subject saying, “We’ll be in my room if you need us.”

A familiar flutter erupted in your chest when Peter opened his bedroom door. Star Wars bedsheets. Comic books. Action figures. Video games. Superhero posters. This was the best side of Peter, all the greatest parts of him splattered throughout his room like a trophy on display. There had been a time when all of it was just for you. Only you were special enough to know and love the Peter that lived behind these walls.

Your mom was out of town for a business trip, so you were spending the weekend with Peter and Aunt May. It wasn’t uncommon for you and Peter to have a sleepover. May had been babysitting you overnight practically since the first day you moved next door.

Peter was sitting at one end of his bed and you were at the other.

“Okay,” you tossed a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Who are you crushing on right now?”

Peter went stiff. He had been crushing on the same girl since he was 8-years-old. “Um. No one really. I don’t really have my eye on anybody.”

“Ugh, Pete. You’re so boring!”

“Okay, fine. Who are you crushing on?”

A shy smile crept across your face. “I don’t know. Well, I guess if I had to pick, I kind of think Brad Davis is cute.”

Peter pretended to gag himself. “Brad Davis? You’re way better than that.”

You rolled your eyes at him, throwing the pillow in your lap at his head. “You’re probably right. Brad has definitely kissed like tons of girls, and I haven’t even kissed one boy! Isn’t that embarrassing? I’m 14, and I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

“Well, I haven’t had my first kiss either.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Should we just get it over with?”

Peter nearly choked on his own tongue. “W-what do you mean?”

“Peter, I mean should we just kiss each other and get our first kiss over with!” You explained like it was the most casual idea in the world.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Peter agreed.

You crawled up the bed until you were sitting right in front of him.

“So, how should we…?” Peter trailed off.

You laid your palm against Peter’s cheek and brushed your thumb back and forth a few times. You secretly praised your mom for making you sit down and watch all of those cheesy rom-coms with her. It made you feel prepared. Peter’s face was hot to the touch because he was blushing.

He was watching you innocently yet also so intensely. Before this, you couldn’t remember a time when you and Peter had been so intimate. You closed your eyes and pressed your lips against his. Kissing Peter felt natural. It felt like something you could do forever.

The kiss only lasted a few minutes before the door swung open. “Do you guys want to order piz- OH NO. MY EYES.”

After that, May decided that Peter had to sleep on the couch whenever you stayed over.

You were still basking in nostalgia when you sat down beside Peter at his desk.

“Do you want to start with atomic structure?” Peter asked. “It was covered in the beginning of the new unit, and I’m sure it will be on the next test.”

You ignored him, picking up a picture frame on the side of his desk. It was a picture of you and Peter on Halloween. You were both 10 and obsessed with Mario Kart. You begged your parents to let you dress up as Mario and Princess Peach.

“I can’t believe you still have this. I remember we ate too many gummy worms that night and May told us that we had gummy butterflies growing in our stomachs and we cried.” You laughed. It was the first time Peter heard you laugh in so long. It made him smile.

You looked back up at him. For a moment, there was a sense of normalcy between the two of you as you smiled at each other.

“Y/N, I-”

You cut him off. “Yeah, so atomic structure, right?”

[pxgeturner]

keep you safe. keep you mine.

ghostface!miguel o'hara x reader. prologue.

you're a junior in college and you have a totally awesome boyfriend in the master's program. a girl from your school is murdered and your boyfriend is there to make sure you feel safe (college/uni!au as if its not obvious)

an. I've had this idea in my head for like a month. executive dysfunction is a little bitch so i've onlyy been able to sit down n write this today. I wrote part of it a work but most of it within the last hour. (it’s currently a bit past midnight on the first of october) which if u have been here for a while, know that’s v surprising for me. i really wanted this to be posted on the first of the month but what can u do. i’m just gonna queue it atp. this isn't very action packed bcz it's just a prologue. but im soooo excited. also, r is latina coded but can be read from any ethnic standpoint. also this has not been proofread.

warnings: r has a panic attack, mentions of death (slightly graphic description of a dead body)

wc. 1.2k

you can’t change the channel. you don’t know why. but you can’t. a girl from your university was killed just about an hour ago. you were going to turn on the run of practical magic that started about half an hour ago. you just keep watching the news-lady rehash the same information over and over again. the killer all but turned the poor girl inside out. she’s in your finance class. you worked on a group assignment with her. she’s one of those girls who tries to maintain the hierarchy of high school in college. which is total bullshit, you’re third years for crying out loud! she’s passive aggressive, sure, but she should’ve had so much more time to grow. so you’re sitting there. bundled in blankets, not able to press the button on the remote. 

PING! 

something hits the sliding glass door to the back porch. you don’t want to become chopped liver. so you stay in your seat. a few minutes pass, you think, and no more noise, so you turn back to the tv. 

thud thud. you ignore it, keeping my eyes on the screen. 

then my cell starts to ring. you jump in your seat, and search for it, lost in the blankets. It’s miguel. you pick up the call. 

“hey mickey, you scared me.”

“sorry, baby. mind opening the door? It’s a little fresh out here?”

“the slide door?”

“yeah,”

you untangle myself from the blankets and approach the glass. you turn on the outside light, and it’s him. you unlock the door and let him in. he kisses your cheek as he comes in. “hey, angel,”

“hey yourself,”

“where are your parents?” you shut the door

“concert, pop surprised mama with tickets to a merengue singer. gloria something.”

he nods and comes in to hug you. “how’s your night been angel? The news is on? why’s it still playing?” he strokes your hair “you know if you keep watching this fear mongering shit it’s gonna just make you anxious, baby.”

“yeah…” you melt into him, feeling safe with your big strong boyfriend here. “can you stay the night?”

“’course baby. anything for my sweet girl.” he leads you back to the couch, “what do you want to watch?”

“practical magic, but it’s already running.”

“don’t you have the dvd?”

“OMG YES” you jump out of your seat and dash over to the tv stand, opening the dvd stash drawer. “HERE IT IS” you wave it around in triumph before inserting it into the player. 

once you’re back on the couch your boyfriend goes “if you have it on dvd why would you watch it on cable?”

you pout at him “it felt special. like they were playing it just for me. it was the perfect time.”

he shakes his head and chuckles, “you’re just too cute, baby.”

… 

“she talked shit about you, y’know.” gwen says after she tossed a penny into the fountain. 

“what?” the two of you start walking to the dining hall

“that girl, ava whatever? she was in my drawing class after your finance class with her. she like, thought you were obsessed with her.”

you stop in your tracks. “wait. what the fuck?”

she steps back and turns to face you. “yeah. i didn’t tell you because i figured if she never said anything to your face it wouldn’t be a big issue.”

“ok…” this is confusing “a: what did she say and b: why are you telling me this?”

“she said you’d stare at her. and that you look like you look like a… what did she say?… ‘a brainless mutt’ and other shit. she only said shit like that a couple times. and i ripped her a new one both times.” she gestures for you to keep walking. you realize today they probably have pizza and she wants to get there before they run out. “i’m telling you this so you don’t feel too bad. she wasn’t some innocent soul, she was a bitch. you’re so nice. but i don’t want you wasting your emotions on her.”

you think about all this information as you two walk. you never really liked ava. she totally thought of herself as a queen bee, and that’s so icky. the class you had together is tiered with semi-circular layout. you sat at one end, and she did at the other. when you space out, you guess it might seem like staring, but, like. what the hell?

and then you see miguel. he’s in a booth with peter, mj, and miles. you and gwen go up to the table.

“hey, angel”

“hi mickey,”

“they have soup, got some for you. cranberry juice too.” your favorite food and your favorite juice? he’s heaven.

you smile so big it almost hurts.

“did you get me food?” gwen asks miles

“i- uh, didn’t know what you wanted,” gwen glares at him– it’s a joke but when you’re on the other end it doesn’t feel like it. “-but there’s plenty of pizza left! i haven’t gotten food yet. i wanted to wait for you.” gwen smiles and offers him her hand. the two of them leave and you slide into the booth, next to miguel. 

“how was break?” peter asks. 

“it was good! love being with my family as usual.”

“and miguel, i’m sure,” mj winks playfully. 

“i was at my parents house!”

“and miguel went over every time you offered.” peter says before taking a sip of his coffee. 

“he’s so in love with you. it’s an obsession.” mj jokes. 

miguel drapes his arm round your shoulder exaggeratedly. “gotta keep my girl safe, there’s some freaks who’d want to hurt her.” you elbow him lightly to tell him to stop joking like that. 

somewhere along the line after gwen and miles get back, the subject changes to them trying to convince you and gwen to go to graduate school. 

“you’re so smart! You could study classical literature! or ethical studies! or ethnic studies! genders studies.”

“oh my god parker please stop throwing studies in my face. i’m so happy y’all are having a good time in the master’s program. and i’m so glad that miles is planning to go do that kind of path too,” you lean back, head supported by miguel’s arm. “i just have no desire to be a career academic. by the time i graduate i’ll have spent seventeen years of my life on education. After i get that diploma i just want to write.”

“and that’s exactly what you’re gonna do, doll.” 

a few days later, and the weekend has arrived. you’re in miguel’s room, a tim burton film playing as you two cuddle. 

the movie gets drowned out by the sound of an alarm, coming from your phones. it’s an emergency alert from the police. someone else has been found dead. someone from your school. your breath turns shallow and a lump forms in your throat. you’re crying. you can’t breathe. everything is blurry. your chest feels heavy. miguel holds you, whispering in your ear reassurances. he’d never let anyone touch you. you’re safe. nothing bad is ever going to happen to you. he’s here to protect you. 

thank god you have miguel to protect you from everything evil outside.

[k4txlulzz]

character development is me not engaging in ship wars(well. i stopped engaging so passionately at least) any longer and dialing down my visceral hatred for romantic dickbabs

ANYWAYS do yall ever think about how they are so cute platonically ... im planning to read some of 2000s barbara comics but from the stuff i have come across dickbabs butting heads and having different personalities is such a fun idea so . i really want to see babs just bully dick and his dramatic ass being like "WHAT DID I DO TO YOU" in a "childhood besties who are also kinda like siblings who argue all the time"...i also ADORE the idea of babs being older and having that leverage over him its very silly and has potential

another thing ,,i feel like my dislike for dickbabs was majorly fueled by their modern characterization ... now that i have gotten more familiar with older stuff about them as a romantic couple (even if i still dislike the ship) im willing to be more open-minded about it if its executed nicely