#wc > 548

[lucielxbe]

next gen s2 part 3. ⋆ luciel performs don’t call me. ( line distribution + outfit j )

luciel took the criticisms he received to heart, working on what his own eyes couldn’t tell him. it was strangely refreshing, he’s used to critiques that sounded harsher. the judges are right, there was nothing particularly impressive about the performance he presented. he has to show a unique side of himself rather than just playing according to the piano sheet. improvement doesn’t comes along like magic, so the most he could do was practicing as much as he could and seek assistance from his teammates and coach.

the team sprinkled on a contemporary twist to the song, which transitioned into a more somber concept with choreography that places its focus more on conveying emotions through the body. this was something he was more familiar with, so luciel had the opportunity to extend bits of his classical knowledge to the team. compared to the other three he was behind in the dancing part, so he makes sure that he puts enough hours into practice to keep up with them and maintain balance. on the another hand, luciel was allocated more lines than he thought. it surprised him, and it gave him pressure — but he instead uses that weight to ground himself to live up to his group’s expectations. luciel was entrusted with those lines. for every sound that comes out of his throat, he’ll make it perfect.

when it was time to perform, the team encourages each other before going on stage together. it was a strange feeling for luciel, that he wasn’t going up there alone this time. he envelops himself in the story they created; the taste of betrayal and the bitterness of it, controlled like a puppet who’s trying to break free from the strings of obsession. luciel keeps up that sentiment throughout the performance, he doesn’t forgets about his facial expressions either that has a tinge of resentment to suit the mood.

he’s pulled off his lines without a hitch. there’s a clear, rich sound to it and he doesn’t strains his voice when he reaches a high note. it’s good. he’s also harmonising well with the rest of the team and keeping up with the choreography. then it’s the dance break, where nayoung cuts their puppet strings off. luciel executes the moves with power and grace just like they practiced. this is the part where they ‘break free’, the earlier resentment shifts into something more… haughty. obsession has lifted from their shoulders, there’s no need to play the role of the puppet anymore.

“i’m going to find love, a more beautiful kind—” he sings with resonance as he faces the crowd, head tilted down as his hand moves towards where his heart is. then he lifts his head up, as if declaring to the one that broke his heart, “—that can help forget, how you and i were awful together.” perhaps he was caught up into the song, so luciel gives a smile that came off as conceitful. not in his calculations, but he feels like it’ll fit anyway since they’re free from the toxic love now.

the performance then came to an end. luciel has done his best, he feels like he did. it was his first group performance. he doesn’t knows what will happen next, but he’s content.

it was fun.

[mydarlingclaudia]

idk what came over me I have a disease and it's incurable and idk if this makes any fucking sense and I know very little about vikings so... anyway viking!Simon Riley x fem!reader

wc : 548

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Viking!Simon who you’re married off to, you're a fisherman’s daughter and he's one of the most feared Vikings for miles around, it’s an oddity that the both of you are over twenty and still unmarried

the thing is your consummation was quick, left you with fingertip bruises on your hips and thighs, but it was still quick. reason being that you and Simon finally got to bed only an hour or two before dawn and he was supposed to leave for a raid in the morning

he left in the early days of spring, him and fifty other men, only to come back in the middle of summer

you never thought he liked you much, even before you were married, if you spoke your conversations were short and he spoke in that same gruff voice that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. along with him hardly saying a word to you for the entirety of your wedding night

so when he trudges back to your cabin and the first thing he does is kneel in front of you while you’re sitting and sewing, pushing his head down into your lap and gripping your calves before you can even say hello to him, of course you’re confused

your confusion only deepens when he plants kisses to your thighs over the fabric of your dress. you don’t stop him, he’ll be done in a few seconds and then go back to being the cold man he is, you’re sure

but he doesn’t stop, he takes the needle and cloth from your hand, places it on the ground next to where he kneels, and kisses along your wrist. the kisses trail up until they reach your sleeve, then returns to your lap, pulling you closer to him so your knees dig into his chest and he presses the top of his head against your stomach

“you’re a vision,” Simon mumbles against your dress, his voice muffled. you don’t say anything, you don’t reach out to touch him

he does finally stand after another minute, looking at you for another second before he leaves to change

Simon’s kind of back to normal when he returns, he stares at you while he eats the food you cooked for dinner, but he’s back to the normal, distant Simon

up until it's time for bed and he's already pushing the skirt of your nightgown up around your hips, softer than he was on your wedding night, the next morning is even more startling when you wake up to him kissing along the back of your neck and cupping your navel

Simon's not changed in any way, maybe finally having a wife to come home to made him sweeter, at least with you

because now for as long as he's home he's shadowing you, following you around to tend to the gardens and split wood, doing the heavy lifting for you. the sweeter part of him wraps you up in the furs that cover your bed when you're about to fall asleep, the sweeter part of him insists that you come join him to bathe, the sweeter part of him says "can't keep m' bird waitin'," after being stuck in a conversation with someone in the village for a few minutes

[en-diaries]

-> CHECK OUT “die with a smile” by yeji !

₊˚⊹⋆🍁⋆⊹ Day 22: Die with a smile - Yang Jungwon

(synopsis) 🍂 being in your boyfriend’s arms was all you needed to soothe your doubt ₊⊹

yang jungwon x fem!reader 🍂 comfort, fluff, angst if you squint 🍂 petnames, mentions of saying goodbye, kisses, crying 🍂 wc 548

masterlist

𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: die with a smile by lady gaga and bruno mars has been playing 24/7 in my head so i thought i’d write a fic based off of it <3

i, i just woke up from a dream

you shot up from your bed, chest heaving rapidly.

where you and i had to say goodbye

"i'm sorry, but i'm leaving you." jungwon said, not able to look you in the eyes when he ripped your heart out.

the dream felt so real and it scared you so bad.

and i don't know what it all means

why was this a dream you had? was it trying to tell you something? was something like this gonna happen?

but since i survived, i realized

before you knew it, tears were streaming rapidly down your face, dripping off your chin and onto the comforter.

wherever you go that's where i follow

you look to your side to see jungwon peacefully sleeping. you didn't want to disturb him from his state of peacefulness.

nobody's promised tomorrow

it made you treasure this silent moment you had with him because who knows what the future will bring.

so i'ma love you every night like it's the last night

gently, you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek, realizing that this could be your last night with him if your dream was true.

like it's the last night

could it really be true? tears once again blurred your vision, streaming down your face.

if the world was ending

"baby?" jungwon had slightly woken up to the sound of sniffles and a kiss pressed to his cheek. "baby what's wrong? why are you crying?" he asked, concern laced in his voice.

would he hate you if you brought it up? would he leave you right then and there?

"i-i had a dream where you l-left me," you hiccuped, looking away bashfully.

i'd wanna be next to you

immediately, jungwon's face softened and he cupped his hands around your face and out of instinct, you melted into his touch.

"baby, i would never leave you. ever." he said reassuringly but also letting you know he was serious.

he squeezed your hand three times—i love you.

if the party was over

"even if i was forced to leave you, i would always find my way back to you," he whispered, leaning his forehead against your's.

and our time on earth was through

"if the world was ending, i'd stay right by your side, never leaving." he mumbled against your lips.

i'd wanna hold you just for a while

then, jungwon slowly leaned forward, connecting your lips in a sweet, reassuring kiss.

it was his promise to you. he would never leave you.

and die with a smile

pulling away, he had a sweet smile on his face and he brought his thumb up to your cheek, wiping away your salty tears.

his smile made you smile, realizing how much you two meant to each other.

if the world was ending

"i promise baby, i will always, always, always be here for you," he said softly, taking your hand into his and rubbing small circles on the back of it.

i'd wanna be next to you

the two of you held each other close for the rest of the night, enjoying the feeling of being next to each other.

jungwon would do absolutely anything if it meant staying by your side.

and you would do the same.

words cannot express how much i love this song omfg i need it in my blood. welp- i hope you enjoyed! its quite short but i think its perfectly sweet and comforting <3

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jongbean

[betouma]

NGS2P2 — answering a few questions

the interview looms over touma slightly, not for anything like nerves—okay, maybe a little. to put it simply, he just doesn't want to say things that he would regret, especially not in front of the cameras. touma has never really had any media or pr training before, so he's admittedly new to this. sure, he had made lots of content for his social media, but it's different. this feels more professional, which isn't something touma is used to. the last time he had to do an interview, it was for his scholarship ( that he thankfully obtained, somehow ).

this time, it's for an idol survival show. no big deal.

how was preparation for the performance?

"pretty good! it was fun. not that it's all fun and games of course, but if you don't have fun about it then you won't be able to enjoy the process. that's how i think, anyway." he doesn't want to come off as someone that isn't trying, because he has been working hard too. touma's just not used to showcasing the amount of effort that he puts into the things he does. "it wasn't easy, there's a lot that i had to learn."

anything in particular from the audition that you're bringing into your upcoming performance?

touma hums, that's a pretty specific question—and touma suspects it has something to do with the comments he received. he can't say for sure, obviously. he didn't exactly investigate further, but he heard about the criticism being thrown his way. valid, of course. "i understand that i was doing more than i can chew, back then." which is ironic, because that's exactly what his mission is currently. "i'd like to think that i was able to balance things a bit more clean this time, focus on what i can do first."

what did you find challenging throughout training?

"hmm... honestly, singing. it was never my thing, but it was excitinglearning. it's different from training, i had to keep in mind the pitch and everything." he doesn't know if he's explaining everything very clearly though. "i had to keep it stable while dancing too, somehow it's easier with rapping. i wonder why." he'll have to ask the coaches later.

who do you think helped you the most?

"it would be bad if i didn't say the coaches, right?" he's laughing. "of course they'd be my first mention. but other than that, when it comes to participants.. oh man, i can't mention just one." he lets out a sigh. "seira being there—someone else i can speak japanese with—she was even from osaka too! that helped me feel more at home. i guess that isn't a very technical aid, but she made the set feel more... comfortable."

are you confident in your performance?

"tough question!" he's laughing once again. "i'm happy i did it. i'm confident that i did my best, and i'm sure all my hard work will shine through somehow." he was always one to think positively, it's ingrained in him, even during the worst situations. "that isn't to say there wouldn't be room for improvement. there usually is, but i put out my best efforts. so i hope it'd be good. something to remember, maybe." perhaps that last part is a shot in the dark.

[vinylfoxbooks]

November 19 - Familiar | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 548

“Regulus!” James calls, setting the cup down on the counter. Seeing the dark haired boy that walks up to the counter -- a recent and upcoming regular of theirs that James always makes for -- they smile softly at him, “You look familiar.”

The boy looks up at him from where he was previously gazing at his phone, his cup now in hand, “I’ve been coming here for the past several weeks, I’d be shocked if you didn’t recognise me by now.” 

And James, charmed as the may be by his tone and passive aggression, is intent on figuring out how he’s seen this man before. It’s been on their mind for weeks, but they’ve never been able to figure it out, and they’re sure that they’ve never met or been around someone named Regulus, “No, you look… I feel like I’ve seen you before I started working here. Maybe in school?”

“You must be crazy,” the man shakes his head, “I doubt we’ve gone to school together.”

“But how can you be sure? What school did you go to?”

“Hogwarts Academy.” 

James beams at him, “And you’re sure that you don’t recognise me, I went there too.” 

“There were a lot of people there, the fact that you barely recognise me says a lot about that.”

James shakes their head, “There were a lot of people there, but I feel like I would remember such a beautiful face… Were you… what house were you in?” 

“Slytherin.” Regulus hums, roving his eyes over James after a second, “I take it you were a Gryffindor… or a Hufflepuff.”

They smile softly, shaking their head, “I was a Gryffindor, yeah.”

“There’s another reason I wouldn’t recognise you, I spent much of my time there actively avoiding you Gryffindors.” 

And James is about to say something else, but they’re interrupted by the chime over the door and Sirius strutting into the cafe, “Reggie! Good to see you.” Regulus makes eye contact with James before turning around to face… 

“Your Sirius’ little brother!” James says, finally putting the pieces together, “Oh my God, you look wonderful. I don’t know how I didn’t figure it out before.” 

“I have been actively trying to stop you from figuring it out,” is the last thing that Regulus says before turning to his brother and attempting to distract him. Sirius calls a cheery goodbye to James before Regulus manages to pull his brother out of the shop. 

Regulus doesn’t show up to the shop on his normal days for a while before he finally does start venturing into the cafe again. It also seems like he’s avoiding James being the one that makes his drinks or takes his order, but Lily is kind enough to write down James’ number on the cup the next time that he comes in. Regulus gives James a look, but they pretend to not notice and continue to focus on making the drink for the next person. 

Regulus texts them a couple hours later, Took you long enough to figure it out. I don’t look that different. And James can’t help the stupid grin that blooms on their face. It’s been so long since they’ve seen the sweet younger Black and they’re thrilled for more now that they have another chance with him.

[heartlyvampzz]

❝𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍, 𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐈𝐓?❞ —- ft. blade

– no cws wc: 548 , platonic/comfort/fluff , gn reader

Thunderstorms — something you absolutely despised. You didn't mind the rain at all, but the loud booms of thunder make you shiver a bit. Maybe it was silly for a Stellaron Hunter to be scared of thunderstorms, but you didn't care.

You huddled under your blanket in your room, thankful you didn't have any missions from Elio to carry out. Your door opening startled you a bit, and at the same time another loud boom came from outside, the rain pounding on your window.

“Blade?” you question, his face only being lit up from your bedside lamp. Blade comes in and gently shuts your door, all while looking at you.

It almost looked like he had something to tell you, but he saw your shivering figure under the blankets and sighed.

“It’s the thunderstorm again, isn't it?” Blade was always straightforward — not wasting any time to get to the point.

You look away from him, eyes on the ground. You give a small nod in reply, a flash of lighting from your window before another loud boom of thunder reaches you. You squeeze your eyes shut in response.

Blade sighs, walking up to you and sitting on your bed, it sinking under his added weight. “Get up,” he says, hands resting on his lap as he looks at you with his usual frown and furrowed brows.

While questioning his intentions, you reluctantly sit up from your bed and look at Blade, curiosity shining in your eyes. He signals with his head for you to come closer. As you begin to move though, yet another loud boom is heard and you cling onto Blade, startled — he was the closest thing to you anyways.

You felt him tense up a bit, and you pull away from him slowly. “Sorry, Blade, you were the closest thing to me so—” you're stopped by the gaze of Blade, his face seemed to have softened just a little.

“I do not care for such small things,” he says as he looks you in the eyes. You swallow nervously as you hug Blade's torso, head resting on his shoulder.

Blade did not know what to do with his arms, but looking at you, he decided to wrap one arm around you, his thumb gently stroking your shoulder as an attempt to comfort you.

Being in someone else's embrace was nice, especially during a thunderstorm like this. You begin to get tired, focusing on Blade's slow, irregular breaths. It was expected from someone like him — he was essentially a dead man walking.

While drifting on the brink of sleep, you feel a hand on your head. Blade's thumb was still gently rubbing your shoulder, so you could only assume it was Blade's other hand that was now gently stroking your hair.

Blade was the last person you expected comfort from — nonetheless from a thunderstorm. You had expected to be told off by him, you were a teenager and a Stellaron Hunter, “get yourself together,” (he would never say or do such a thing).

As you finally fall asleep, Blade keeps his eyes on you. If anyone were to look at the Hunters face, he seemed to have a ghost of a smile and a gentle look in his eyes as he held you in his arms.

♱ —- 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: it's thundering rn and I'm still going crazy over the upcoming blade things in hsr so guess who's getting another fic reupload. If I remember right this was an old req that I liked the outcome of so ^_^ so happy it's thundering rn JWHHDHD

★ — © heartlyvampzz || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or feed my works into ai, thanks — ✦

[bradleysass]

Wound - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 548

The candlelight flickered in the dimly lit study, casting long, wavering shadows along the mahogany walls. Rain pattered against the high-arched windows, the glass fogged by the chill of the evening. Regulus sat rigidly in the high-backed chair, his fingers curling into the armrests, knuckles white with strain. Across from him, James Potter leaned against the grand desk, utterly unbothered by the gash slicing across his shoulder, seeping crimson through his torn white shirt.

“You should bandage that,” Regulus said, his voice tight, clipped, barely restrained.

James shrugged, a careless grin playing at his lips. “It’ll heal. Besides, you’re the one who dragged me here. Isn’t it common courtesy to patch up a guest?”

Regulus exhaled sharply through his nose, nostrils flaring. “You are not a guest. You are a reckless fool who doesn’t understand the danger he is in.”

James tilted his head, studying Regulus through the curtain of his disheveled curls. “Am I?” His voice was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Regulus stiffened, his throat working as he tore his gaze away from the fresh, glistening wound.

James smelled of rain and blood. The combination was intoxicating.

Regulus clenched his jaw, nails digging into the upholstery beneath his fingers. He had spent centuries perfecting his restraint, his control an iron cage forged over decades of suffering. But James was… insufferable. His disregard for his own safety, the way he laughed in the face of danger, the sheer warmth of him—it all chipped away at the careful walls Regulus had built.

“Sit down.” Regulus snapped the command, his voice sharp enough to cut through the thick air between them.

James smirked but did as he was told, settling onto the edge of the settee with an ease that infuriated Regulus. “I didn’t know you cared so much,” he mused.

“I don’t,” Regulus bit out, reaching for the linen cloth beside him, pointedly avoiding the way James’ pulse beat at his throat, steady, tantalizing. He dipped the cloth into a bowl of cool water and pressed it to the wound. James hissed at the contact, but he didn’t move away.

“Liar,” James murmured, watching him.

Regulus ignored him, focused on his task, but his hands trembled. The scent was overwhelming, the hunger curling in his gut, ancient and demanding. He swallowed hard. “You are unbearable.”

James chuckled. “So I’ve been told.”

Silence stretched between them, thick and charged. Regulus worked methodically, pressing the cloth against the wound, watching the crimson stain bloom across the fabric. His fingers brushed against James’ skin, and he jerked back as though burned. James didn’t move, only watching him with an expression Regulus couldn’t place.

“You’re trembling,” James observed quietly.

Regulus exhaled sharply, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You should leave.”

James leaned forward slightly, voice barely above a whisper. “Do you want me to?”

Regulus closed his eyes for a moment, every fiber of his being screaming for him to do the right thing. To send James away before he lost control. Before he succumbed to the hunger that clawed at him.

But when he opened his eyes, James was still there. Still watching him. Still smelling like blood and rain and warmth.

Regulus swallowed. “No.”

[gunnerfc]

Emily Fox + Jealousy Prompt // Emily becomes increasingly worked up after the reader's friend gets too touchy and affectionate for her liking, giving the reader the cold shoulder until the reader confronts her about being rude and standoffish 

E. Fox - Cold Shoulder | WC: 548

Emily did her best to tune out the laughter from you and your best friend, the defender not enjoying how touchy your friend was. Your friend from home decided to come to London to visit, the two of you have been away from each other for a while due to your career. At first, Emily was happy that the two of you were getting the chance to reconnect, but her mood quickly changed when she realized your friend was very touchy.

She knew she had no reason to be jealous; this was your close friend, and there was nothing romantic behind your friend’s touching. Yet, each time her hands grabbed your arm or hit your leg, the defender’s jaw clenched. Emily had spent the better half of lunch quietly sulking by herself, only offering short answers when prompted. You picked up on her sour mood almost immediately but did your best to keep the conversation going when she clearly did not want to be a part of it. 

Emily was slightly grateful when lunch came to an end, and you and your friend hugged goodbye before you split. Emily offered a tight smile before heading out to the car, leaving you to follow behind, your mood changing to match hers.

“What the hell was that,” you huffed as you slid into the driver’s seat, and instead of starting the car, you turned to throw a partial glare at your girlfriend. 

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” Emily’s tone matched yours as her arms crossed over her chest. 

You scoffed at her words, shaking your head as you mumbled under your breath about her being ‘unbelievable.’ Neither of you spoke the entire ride home, the silence filling your car was loud. 

By the time you arrived back at your place, both of your anger was starting to dissipate. Once inside and in the living room, you were the first to break the silence. “Are you gonna tell me what the attitude was all about,” you huffed slightly, your full attention on the defender next to you on the sofa.

Emily didn’t immediately respond, going back and forth in her head about telling you the truth. “I was jealous,” she muttered, deciding it was best to just be honest about it.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Jealous?” Nothing was coming to mind about what she could have been jealous about.

“She was just… so touchy with you. Which I know doesn’t mean anything, and I shouldn't be jealous, but..” she trailed off, yet to meet your eyes. 

Things clicked that she was talking about your best friend, and you laughed softly. “You’re right, it doesn’t mean anything, and there was no reason to be jealous,” your tone was more teasing as you scooted closer to her.

Emily’s cheeks burned, a light blush coating her face hearing your teasing. “You’re never gonna let me forget this, are you,” she groaned, her head turning to face you and instantly met with your bright grin.

“Nope!” you laughed, popping the ‘p’ in your response. You laughed when the defender rolled her eyes but let you cuddle into her side. 

You and your friend had a good laugh later that night when you told her of Emily’s jealousy, much to the defender’s dismay.

[zorosbeau33]

You Go Shopping Together~ Domestic Hawks Headcanon

❖ BNHA/MHA, Hawks x Gender Neutral reader

❖ Headcanon, Fluff, Domestic Life

❖ Established Relationship AU

❖ wc: 548

❖ @atiny-piratequeen @kimnamshiks @tojiseviltwin ❖ Masterlist ❖

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Enjoy this little pathway~ Comment or reblog with any other Heroes you'd like to see~

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“You’re moving too fast~” The whining, because only with you can he be lazy and baby.

He’s still very dashing and proud but he absolutely loves to whine and walk slowly behind you. Fingers interlocked forcing you to slow down or drag him along, and with his giant wings and strength there is no dragging this man.

Hawks is smiling the entire time, oohing and ahhing at everything around him, yes you started this journey outside to buy groceries for the house but look the game store has a sale on pokemon cards!

These excursions with him are another way he susses out what things you like or are newly interested in. Because he will remember them and get you little gifts the next time he's on patrol or wants to watch tv.

You both have picked up so many new hobbies from this. Due to him signing you up for the pottery/dancing/painting/cooking classes the moment you stared a second too long at an advertisement.

And games too, pokemon card collecting together, board games you rope his side kicks into, mini figurines of your hero friends to go on the mini figure shelf he’s crafted for them (they also have been dragged into board game nights more often than not)

You are of course obligated to stop by every street cart selling chicken. He single handedly will keep the chicken industry going strong and may even nudge you down side streets to get a skewer or two from some of his favorite places even if it's technically out of the way.

You are always offered the first bite, it is a way he shows affection

Grocery shopping is usually you fighting to put back all the extra snacks and things he keeps grabbing with his feathers.

He thinks its a game and it amuses him and he laughs the entire time you (smilingly) scold him or put back the food

Your grocery bill for chicken is astronomical especially if you’re a good cook after those classes he will beg and plead for you to cook all the time (he will of course help you don’t need to ask him though it's more his feathers helping as he hugs your waist).

Another reason for this outrageous food bill is his adoration for Tokoyami and the other side kicks and people at his agency. He buys them small snacks that remind him of them. “So what if it's $100/¥16000? The black of the crystalized part of the candy is the same as Toko’s colors!” 

Shopping always ends up with fans but he is very good about being fast with them or asking them for privacy since he needs to spend some time “With my cutiepie/sugarplum/bunny babe-” the tabloids have talked about the sappy extra nicknames so many times and he has never repeated the same one somehow?

If you need to do some serious shopping don’t expect him to let you carry anything. Even if you are physically stronger than him, his feathers will take them from you. “Your hands are only meant to hold mine”

Honestly shopping with Hawks is filled with food, laughter, and indirect moments of him showing not saying how much he loves you and those important to you both.

[hxneyfarm]

the charming of steve goddamned harrington, as told by jeff

written for @steddiemicrofic prompt: ‘charm’ | wc: 548 | rated: g | cw: none, outsider pov

to say that jeff has known eddie all their lives would not be an exaggeration or an overstatement. one of jeff's earliest memories is his fifth birthday party- a cookout with his parents and his sister and the boy who lived in the house across the street.

he didn't even know eddie's name at the time, he just remembers the way the boy, a year or two older than himself, had pressed a finger to his mouth in a shh kind of gesture as he tore off chunks of his blackened hot dog to feed to the ancient yellow lab curled up under the picnic table in the back yard.

and now, more than a decade later, jeff is still watching in awe as eddie quietly slips treats to the object of his affection. except this time the treats aren't blackened hot dog bits- they're smiles. and the object of eddie's affection isn't a geriatric yellow labrador anymore- it's ex king of hawkins high steve goddamned harrington.

and the thing is... steve is reciprocating. he's smiling back, his face a little pink at the edges. he's laughing at all of eddie's bad jokes- actually laughing, too, like he’s charmed by him

these two idiots are gone on each other, and jeff doesn't even think they realize it. they definitely don't realize whatever feelings they're nursing are being reciprocated; if they did jeff's sure he would have heard about it before now. he and eddie don't hide things from each other and they never really have.

whatever this is, it must be new. maybe they're sneaking around together, getting their bearings before telling their friends. maybe they're both just crushing and skirting around the elephant in the room. jeff sincerely hopes it's the former; he's not sure how much moping and pining he can take from eddie before he's just gonna have to snap and lock them in a closet together until they come strolling out covered in hickeys.

gareth and grant are noticing the tension between eddie and steve tonight too. grant's good at subtlety, but gareth wears his suspicion in the hard set to his mouth and the crease between his brows. after what happened with jason during spring break, gareth's hackles are up around anyone that's not one of theirs, and with good reason. steve, though... jeff's got an inkling that steve might be more like them than he lets on.

so maybe steve is more of a blondie guy than a black sabbath guy. so what? eddie will see to that soon enough. jeff is absolutely certain of it.

jeff has known eddie all his life. this tension with steve is absolutely going to snap eventually, and jeff cannot wait to tell his best friend that he's seen it coming. he can't wait to tease him for all these lovesick gazes and those lingering touches and the bad jokes and the absolutely outrageous nicknames (big boy, ed? c'mon, man.).

until then, jeff is so content to just watch this unfold. he's taking notes. maybe someday, when the world gets its shit together, he can stand up as eddie's best man and rib him about this in front of all their family and friends.

eddie deserves that almost as much as he deserves steve goddamned harrington.

[vecnuthy]

snoozy

@eddiemonth day 7: warm | wc: 548 | G | cw: sleepy fluff

Eddie Munson was an absolute riot of kinetic energy most of the time. He got antsy easily, his mind rarely quiet unless made quiet by the lull of a late night toke, but any other time, he had to be doing something. Sitting was only tolerable if his hands were moving or his knee jumping.

Currently, though, he was perfectly still, somehow stretched out and curled up at the same time under his and Steve's sheets - a Sunday morning still made lazy in the mid-early hours because he was passed out. Steve knew company would be over that afternoon to continue their campaign under Eddie's guidance, but for now, Steve soaked up the stillness and basked in the sights and sounds of a sleeping Eddie Munson, konked out to this world but probably exploring some other in his dreams. He always said he had vivid dreams in which he drew inspiration for the campaigns he crafted. It had taken several years for the Upside Down to loosen its iron grip on Eddie's unconscious mind, but the dreams came less frequently these days. He looked unsullied by its influence this morning, thankfully.

But Eddie Munson was still a riot in his sleep. Steve had called him a rotisserie chicken because of how much he moved. The only cure was being tangled together or being in a deep sleep. Eddie had been too tired last night to braid his wet curls, so they now lay bushed around him, scattered in a thicket across his and Steve's respective pillows, covering the half of his face not smooshed into a pillow and no doubt wrapped around his neck. Steve could only see his nose peaking out and a bit of his forehead as he watched with such soul-wrenching fondness the strands fluttered to and fro with each breath Eddie took.

He looked so ridiculous, so peaceful and squeezable and gorgeous with the comforter hiked up to his ears and tucked in like a curly-headed sleep taquito.

And he was so warm. A toasty little sleep taquito. The guy ran cold most of the time, but put Eddie in some blankets, and he became a burning coal in no time, especially with Steve's body heat included in the mix.

Steve's hand rested at home on Eddie's bare waist under the covers, and when Eddie started to stir, he squeezed lightly, coaxing a sleep-thickened sound from Eddie.

"Mornin'."

All Steve got in response was a choppy groan that would've sounded like "mornin'" as well, had Eddie moved his mouth. Steve chuckled, and Eddie's fingers appeared from the bunched-up covers and pushed his curls from his face.

He was so beautiful, it made Steve's chest hurt. Skin and lips full, a sleep crease across his cheek, eyes squinty until they fully fell on Steve, making butterflies erupt in his stomach. He couldn't stand it.

Eddie yelped when Steve pulled the covers from Eddie's grasp and dove in, burying his face in Eddie's neck.

"God, you're so warm," he groaned out, completely engulfing Eddie's body with his own. "And you smell so good."

"It's just body wash," he grinned sleepily, carding his fingers through Steve's own bed head.

"It's just you," he kissed into his skin. Eddie melted into the sheets and his hold. "S'just you."

[thefreakandthehair]

no better version I could pretend to be tonight

written for ‘charm’ wc: 548 | rated: m | cw: eddie munson's near-death experience and description of panic attack/nightmares @steddiemicrofic

Eddie wakes up screaming. 

It’s how he experiences the crushing weight of living when he was so certain he would die beneath that fiery, starless sky. No one sees the hollowed out face of Death and comes back through the veil unscathed, but if the only sacrifice Eddie makes for his life is his right nipple, some flesh, and peaceful sleep, he figures it’s a bargain. 

Every night for the last several months, a hole cracks open in his chest where his lungs once were that bottoms out and refuses to hold the oxygen he desperately tries to pull in to fill the void. His skin feels too tight, his throat hoarse, his palms sore from the clenching of his fingers into fists that swipe at nothing. The taste of blood and rust coats his mouth, a phantom sense that nothing but time dissolves. 

Casual shrugs and black coffee disguise his discomfort when asked if he’s okay. 

Never better. I’m alive, aren’t I? He jokes.

That should be enough of an answer for his new friends. And it is, mostly. They don’t believe him, but they leave well enough alone. 

That is, everyone but Steve Harrington. 

Steve’s proven himself to be an enigma, wispy in Eddie’s grasp. He can’t quite get a handle on him, but he’s been nothing but good to Eddie besides his relentless insistence that Eddie try sleeping at his house. 

“Just give it a shot, Munson. I’m tellin’ you, I’ve got this sleep charm.” 

“If you wanna get me in your bed that bad, you’re gonna have to try a little harder than that.”

“If that’s all I was doing, this would be a lot easier.”

The kicker is that he does. He trusts Steve, and maybe he just wants an excuse to pretend that Steve’s his to wake up to but the next time he wakes up screaming, he gathers his shit, scribbles a note for Wayne in the kitchen with shaking hands, and drives across town. He parks, walks up to the door with a pillow under one arm, and knocks loudly, unencumbered by the liminal space that is Loch Nora at two o’clock in the morning. 

Steve opens the door before detaching the deadbolt, sleep rumpled and adorable– save for the nail bat just barely visible through the crack of the door. He’s shirtless in just a pair of pajama pants, blue and green stripes that hang a little loose from his hips. 

“Eddie?” Steve mumbles, his voice croaky and low as he rubs at his right eye. “Fuck.” He closes the door just long enough to undo the deadbolt and holds his arm out, ushering Eddie into the quiet of the house. 

“Here for your sleep charm, or whatever.” Eddie looks around the room, dimly lit by the motion sensor porch light through the window and doubts himself. “This is stupid as shit. I can just—” 

Steve shakes his head and places a hand on Eddie’s lower back, gently guiding him upstairs to his bedroom.  “Don’t even think about it. You’re here, and we’re gonna get you some sleep. C’mon.” 

It won’t be the last time Eddie wakes to the tickle of Steve’s chest hair against his nose and the gentle press of lips to the top of his head.

there's a version of this that's 3k that lives in my google docs and maybe one day, that'll end up on my ao3 [update: the 3k version did, indeed, end up on my ao3]

[orimuraa]

── ⋆⋅✮ Can’t let you get too close to me - Park Jongseong 𝜗𝜚 dopamine - GISELLE

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆all jay wants to do is take care of you ⨾

۶ৎ rich!jay x stubborn fem!reader┆fluff┆kisses, petnames, jay spoils reader┆wc 548

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: rich jay. i want. i need. alsoo thank you so much to @antoncyng for the fic idea!!

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

you're not quite sure how it started. you just kinda..bumped into a man one time and he happened to be the most stunning man you've ever laid your eyes on.

now, you've been dating jay for several months. not because he had loads of money, but because you loved him for who he was beneath all the hard-earned cash.

you never liked to bother people and you definitely never liked to bother people about money.

so when you started dating jay, he tried to reassure you that you were not at all a bother and he wanted to be able to treat you and take care of you.

you were...struggling a bit with money and before jay had you move in with him, you were living out of a very small apartment (if you can even call it that) and you were barely passing by with the rent.

it wasn't like you were unemployed and spent your money unwisely, no. you did infact have a job, and you made sure that you weren't spending ridiculous amounts on things you didn't need.

that's why when jay came home one day with a big prada bag, handing it to you, you were blown away.

you could barely even afford to breathe the air in a prada store! how did you end up with a huge bag in your hands?

and so then it began. jay would buy you a gift of some sort and it always cost more than you could ever imagine.

you hated the feeling of guilt that was slowly eating away at you for making jay spend all his money on you. you didn't think you even deserved it.

"jay...i really can't accept anymore of these! i mean, you work so hard for your money and i barely do anything but yet you spend it all on me!" you hesitate, staring down at the diamond earrings he had just gifted you.

"baby, i'm not doing it because i pity you or because i think you need these riches. i'm doing it because i love you so much and all i want is to take care of you and to let you know how loved you are," he smiles softly, bringing his hand up to softly caress your cheek.

"i love you so much more than i love my money and whatever it can buy because it can't buy you, darling. you make me so happy and i don't even know how to thank you enough for that." he finishes, leaning in and kissing your forehead, then your nose, and then your lips.

"just let me spoil you like the way you deserve, yeah?" he asks in a soft tone, pressing his forehead against yours.

"but jay-" you start before you're quickly cut off by his lips on yours again.

"darling, please just let me, mkay?" he asks against your lips.

"fine..but not as often! i still feel bad about how much you spend on me," you huff, making a pouty face. all jay does is chuckle (in rich) and coo at how adorable you are.

"no promises, baby." he winks, before walking off.

unfortunately for you, he was just too charming and he always managed to spoil you. maybe it was okay to let him spoil you.

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐉𝐢𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy, @hyukabean, @annybah, @ijustwannareadstuff20, @chaeneu, @17ericas, @firstclassjaylee, @riribelle, @right-person-wrong-time, @cheruphic, @woniefication

[slytherinshua]

SCOUPS WITH AN OLDEST CHILD S/O

genre. comfort. headcanons. warnings. this is honestly so messy, not rly sure how well it flows or how good it is so sry abt that. mention of burnout, academic stress, self doubt, etc. pairing. scoups x reader. wc. 548. request. requested by 🌱 anon a/n. even though i'm the youngest i kind of relate to a lot of these especially academic ones :( to everyone who feels this way not just oldest children, know that you're all doing amazing and i'm so proud of you just for being you, you don't have to be perfect all the time, and your achievements don't reflect how valuable you are as a person

as the oldest in Seventeen himself, Seungcheol would probably be all too used to the stress and pressure of setting an example and living up to people’s expectation

especially since he’s also the leader and has to represent Seventeen to the public, he deals with his own share of pressure

he hates that you have to feel that way too, but he would be the best person you could ever ask for to help with it

he knows that some days you just need extra kisses and cuddles and encouragement

he knows that even just him saying that he’s proud of you is enough

he doesn’t need to be over the top, he just needs to be there for you

he’ll especially try to do extra small things for you

“grades don’t define your self worth”

he’s repeated that so many times to you that now it’s constantly circling in your head

and it’s been so helpful for you to give yourself a little bit of grace

of course it doesn’t always work— some days are just shit and it feels like everyone in the world is disappointed in you and that no matter how hard you try, it’ll never be enough for them

sometimes it even feels like Seungcheol himself is also disappointed in you

when you tell him, he washes the thought away so quickly, it’s almost as if it was never there to begin with

he’s always proud of you, no matter how much you do in a day

instead of looking at your achievements— your grades and projects and work— he looks at your every day life

he’s proud of you when you wake up in the morning and shower

he’s proud when you eat 3 meals a day and actually get dressed enough to feel pretty

he’s proud when you do the things he knows are so hard but so necessary

Seungcheol is always so observant as well

he can tell immediately when you get uncomfortable around your family or friends

he knows when you feel like they’re judging you

and he’ll make up an excuse to take you home every time

even just an reassuring smile from across the room from him can allow you to breathe and relax

when it comes to studying when you absolutely cannot take breaks even if you want to, Seungcheol will make sure to be right by your side as much as he can

one thing he’s best at is being able to make you laugh even when you’re stressed

sometimes Seungcheol doesn’t think that he does that much to help

he’s sure that he could do so much more and he would in an instant if you needed it

but he already does so much more than any other person you’ve ever had in your life

the smiles, the laughter, the encouragement, the closeness, the comfort, the stability

he’s relentless at times when it comes to you taking care of yourself (depriving you of kisses is his best method for making you take care of yourself) but it’s exactly what you need and you couldn’t be more thankful to him for it

Seungcheol slowly but surely did everything that no one else had been able to do in the past: he made everything feel okay

↳ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @minholing,, @shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @wonwooz1,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @haecien,, @amara-mars

[turinspeachjam]

Stobin Month 2025 - Prompt "Gossip"

wc: 548 | cw: implied brain trauma/injury | rating: g

“Helen is sleeping with the night nurse.” 

Robin snorted into her drink. The two of them had been sitting in quiet stillness for over an hour, sipping at lukewarm sweet tea and staring at the cars that drove past. It was still strange for Steve to be so quiet, so completely opposite to who he was when they first met, but Robin tried not to hold it against him. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

She turned to look at him, but his eyes remained focused on the road, his hands wrapped around the half-empty cup resting on his lap. There was a small pang of disappointment when his gaze did not meet hers. 

“Helen, you know, the lady whose room is across from mine? She’s sleeping with Kevin, the night nurse that pretends you aren’t staying in my room after visiting hours. They’ve been hooking up for at least the last two weeks, if not longer.” 

Robin had no idea what kind of face she was making, but picturing 65-year-old Helen Dreyfuss getting hot and heavy with Himbo Kevin—who was definitely no older than 35—was not something she wanted stuck in her head. 

“Eww Steve! Why would you say that?” 

“Because it’s true,” he answered simply, his brows furrowed as though perplexed by Robin’s appropriate response to being told about an elderly woman’s sexual prowess. “You left the door open to try and sneak us some snacks from the vending machine and I saw them making out in her doorway.” 

Robin squinted at him, digging through her memories to try to find the one he was referring to and simply could not pick it apart from all the other times she had done something similar. There was no point in asking Steve exactly when this supposed event had occurred because there was a 90 percent chance he would not remember. 

“Okay and?” 

He was clearly bringing this up for a reason, Robin just did not understand why. Steve rarely talked without meaning these days, convinced that every conversation the two of them shared had to be of profound importance. Robin kind of missed when he would just say whatever shit came to mind. When Robin first took him here, he told her that his mind was like a sieve, losing each thought the moment it arrived because his brain was full of holes. Though his explanation was significantly less succinct—having forgotten the word sieve and replacing it with something vastly different—Robin had understood the gist of what he meant. 

“And,” he drawled, his tone snarky and familiar, “Helen saw me and swore me to secrecy. So obviously I had to tell you.” 

Robin smiled, a sudden burst of joy filling her chest. No matter how much had changed, Steve continued to confide in Robin about whatever secret he held, even if it was not one of his own. It was one of their constants and Robin would cling to it with both hands for as long as she could. 

“Well,” she declared with as much dramatic flair as she could muster, “At least it’s just Kevin. For a moment there, I thought you were going to tell me that she had stolen you from right under my nose.” 

Steve’s responding laughter was music to her ears. 

[atmilliways]

Swept Off His Feet

@steddiemicrofic

written for ‘Charm’ | wc: 548 | rated: T

Eddie has been waiting for the infamous Harrington charm. Nancy had warned him about it, even; she’d said that Steve laid it on a little thick sometimes, but that his heart was in the right place. He’s been waiting for held doors and dorky ‘allow me’s and bouquets of flowers or whatever, all the normie heterosexual stuff that he’s rolled his eyes through at the movies. 

And because it’s Steve, Eddie has sworn to himself that he won’t roll his eyes at any of it.

Except it never comes. Steve is just Steve, a little goofy and a little vain about his hair and very physically affectionate. Eddie has never been cuddled up to this much in his life, and he tries to show his appreciation of that as much as possible.

He jumps out of whichever car they’re in first as soon on as it’s in park, loping around to Steve’s door and bowing him out of the vehicle in the King-Steve-and-court-jester but that makes Steve roll his eyes and put his hands on his hips and try to hide a grin.

He comes up behind Steve when he’s cooking (careful to time it so that nothing will spill) and catches him around the middle, lifting and spinning and showing off muscles he has from lugging around amps and shit for years, and Steve always yells and slaps at him and kisses him hard after. 

He sleuths out Steve’s favorite color and turns up one day with a bunch of seed packets mixed into one mystery baggie, and they spend the entire afternoon up to their elbows in pots and dirt planting them. Steve calls him all excited when the first shoots start to emerge. Weeks later, when they bloom into bunches of bright yellows and oranges, Steve drags him in from the front door by a handful of faded band tee and does wonderfully dirty things with his mouth right there in the entryway. 

He even buys Steve tickets to a basketball game in Chicago (Wayne helped with that one). They say money can’t buy happiness, but government hush money sure as hell bought him those tickets, all kinds of stadium refreshments, and a ridiculous foam finger that Steve doesn’t take off until they get back to the van and wait out the post-game traffic in the back. 

“You know,” Eddie says to Nancy at one point, “it’s weird. Steve is great, but he’s never tried to, like . . . woo me or whatever.”

Nancy, who has become to him what Robin is to Steve, looks over with a wry smile and then goes back to watching the rest of the older Party members’ antics in the pool. There’s an epic game of chicken that’s about to break the five minute mark, with Steve on Argyle’s shoulders and Robin on Jonathan’s and more ridiculous shit-talking than actual fighting.

“I guess you beat him to it,” she says lightly. “It’s good though, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.”

And when Eddie thinks back over everything, he realizes that . . . yeah, he has, hasn’t he? He’s opened doors for Steve and given him flowers and swept him off his feet, and never once felt like rolling his eyes at any of it.