#where are u drawing the line of hating one and loving the other

[twinkgami]

i still find it very funny when people are incessant that homestuck is the worst evil thing to have ever happened add it to 20 blocklists and then u check their about and their favorite game is undertale

[svampira]

normalest friend group

[zyafics]

omg hi!! hope ur doing well i love ur writing btw, (play fake is one of my fav fics ive EVER read!!)

could u do a fic where rafe and reader are like best friends, and they’ve always both kinda liked each other but they dont really act upon it, until rafe gets a buzzcut and reader starts acting like real shy and clumsy around him bcs she’s shocked abt how he could get even MORE attractive, and then he gets linda confused so he asks her why she’s acting so different and then she tells him? make it as smutty and fluffy as u want! 🫶🫶

first off, ily 🥹 and omg, YES!! i've been thinking about this ever since i got your req in my inbox, so here's my very earnest attempt at doing it justice 🩷

masterlist

pairing rafe cameron x bsf!female reader

content (5.3k words) 18+, fluff, smut, soft!rafe to reader only, protected p in v, f receiving oral, lots of banter!, nicknames used: baby and wildflower. — reader type kook, spontaneous, loves adventure, hates silence, loves noises, doesn't exactly like her reality, and friends with topper and kelce, but is only close to rafe!

dedication to @mintforadollar for helping me with the nickname and for @erwinsvow for her lovely fic, which i drew inspiration from and i've been obsessing over for the past two weeks <3

lıllılı Wildflower by 5 Seconds of Summer

"I want to run away."

It takes a moment for Rafe to register your confession and his response is a drowsy laugh. "Buy a guy dinner first."

You let out a groan, slumping against your wrinkled sheets and abundant pillows spread across your bed. "I'm being serious, Rafe. I'm tired of this house. It's too empty and quiet. I can't stand it. At night, I think I can hear my skin buzzing."

Rafe is accustomed to your sporadic calls regarding whatever issues you had with the world. Last week, it was about the insufficient amount of family portraits that frame the halls of your mansion.

"Maybe you just need to change your sheets."

"Stop!" You chastise. Rafe chokes up with another beat of laughter, low and rich with the deep timbre of his voice. The sound temporarily draws you away from your rant, igniting a small ember in your stomach. You brush away those tingly thoughts. "You're not listening to me."

"I think I'm listening to you perfectly fine, wildflower." He reassures, the solemnity of his tone takes you off the edge. Rafe shuffles on the other line, moving to a sitting position against his headboard. "What do you want? Do you want me to come pick you up?"

You cower from his offer, tucking one of your pillows under your chin. "You don't have to..."

"Don't get all shy with me now. You can't act this way when you're waking me up in the dead of night to report about your getaway plans."

"I feel bad."

Rafe sighs, getting off his bed. He knows the outcome of this conversation and rather prepares himself for the short drive. "I'm heading over."

"I could walk."

"It's freezing outside."

"Your house is down the block. I can survive."

"I'm already out the door. Just stay put." Rafe announces and before he's about to disconnect the call, he adds. "I'm serious."

He arrives in record time. Honking his truck with no regards for the nearby neighbors and you pad downstairs with a bag, descending down the driveway to the passenger side of his truck. A little shiver travels down your spine at the cool North Carolina weather.

"God, what did I tell you?" He scolds, noticing your lack of outwear, and reaches for the blanket in the backseats he keeps just for you. He throws it at your face, suffocating your air with a fluffy white fleece. You roll your eyes, covering your shoulders with it as Rafe reverses. "Where do you want to go?"

"Thought I'm supposed to buy you a meal first."

He doesn't bother entertaining your retort with a glance and flicks the side of your head with his fingers. You giggle. "We're not running away."

"Who said you're included in this adventure? I remember it being a one-person job."

Rafe scoffs. "You can't run away. You'd miss me too much."

"No, you'd miss me too much." You tease back, watching his lips pull to an upward curve at your words. It makes your heart flutters, knowing you always manage to get this side of Rafe. To the rest of Outer Banks, Rafe is seen as a precarious, self-absorbed playboy, but to you, he's your best friend.

And a little more.

The truck parks on the roadside of Tannyhill, the silhouettes of the estate surrounded by shadowy oak trees and a deep reflection of the moon on their waterfront view. Rafe doesn't make a move to leave, nor turn off the engine, before he turns to you.

"You okay?" He asks gravely, all humor stripped off his handsome features. You feel the air of your lungs stolen, at the amount of attention he's paying you, and the atmospheric change turns you to a bashful version of yourself.

"Fine." You answer, looking to your lap. "You know..."

Despite your house being a near-identical model to Rafe's, you hate yours. It's nothing about the architecture but rather the emptiness of the hallways. The cold floors sweep with minimalist decors. The echoes in the chambers where you can hear every little whirl in the air conditioner and creaks in the pipes. You'd rather be at Tannyhill.

Rafe doesn't say anything for the next few moments, observing you, before conceding a sigh. "Tell you what. I'll take you out on the Druthers tomorrow. We'll go bright and early, sail out for a couple of hours, watch the sunrise and it'll be something."

You lift your head, eyes lit up. "Is this our escape?"

"We gotta come back, though."

You frown but the offer remains enticing. It's better than nothing.

"Okay, deal." You nod, holding out your pinkie finger. Rafe scoffs at your gesture, but nonetheless, returns it. "Don't look so glum. You get to hang out with me."

"You do realize we have about three hours of sleep?"

You glance at the clock on his dashboard. He's right. But, you don't want to hold it off till another day. "I can go by myself. Just give me the keys for tomorrow."

He rolls his eyes, as if he would even consider that suggestion, and shakes his head. "I'm coming with you."

"Aren't you afraid you won't get your beauty sleep?"

"Shut up and get in the house."

You laugh and hop out of his truck. When you enter through his bedroom, you throw your bag to a random corner and stroll over to his closet in search for one of Rafe's tees to sleep in.

When you settle on something, you strip out of your clothes—in the middle of his bedroom, just as Rafe enters—and exchange it for his shirt. He had little regard for your act, having grown accustomed to you changing in front of him and vice versa. 

All Rafe does is pull off his own shirt, because he likes to sleep naked, and turns back to you. Unlike him, you're never going to get used to seeing him naked—the defined muscles of his chest, the toned planes of his abs, all those hours spent at the gym are clearly not wasted.

You flush, realizing you're ogling him longer than appropriate, and lift your gaze to find a smirk curving his lips. "Oh, shut it," you push his shoulders, causing him to laugh. He takes the opportunity to capture your hand, pulling the both of you onto his mattress, and you yelp.

Rafe changes your position so you're facing him, an arm sprawls over your waist, and there's about a couple of inches of space between the two of you. Here, in the low streams of the moonlight glistening through the veiled curtains and the faint aroma of his cologne on his pillows, you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

You say nothing. He says nothing, You stare into his cerulean eyes, knowing all this little emotions you're feeling all over—the light pricks on your skin where he touches you, the lapse in your breathing from how attentive he is, and the sharp incline of your heart rate pulsing through your veins—is because of him.

His voice is low when he says, "you know you're my best friend, right?"

You couldn't find it in you to answer. You just nod.

Rafe swallows hard, not having the ability to string together the next sentence. Instead, all he does is nod along, leaning forward to place a light kiss on your forehead, before falling asleep.

The next morning, just an hour before the sunrise, Rafe and you head to the ports to board the Druthers. Despite the lack of adequate sleep, you were giddily and strumming with high energy. He holds out his hand to guide you up the stairs, afraid your enthusiasm would cause you to miss a step. 

When the Druthers is far enough from shore, it pulls to a halt, gently bobbing on the ocean waves of the tame morning. You settle on the deck and Rafe slides into the spot next to you. Here, you have the perfect view of the sun slowly rising from the horizon, painting the sky in a palette of red, orange and yellow.

You're grinning. You're feeling much better, especially after your melodramatic episode. Your head rests on Rafe's chest, observing the skyline until the sun reaches its acme, while he watches you. Something about you, happy, content, and with him brings a warmth no one can replicate.

"We have to go swimming." You announce suddenly, twisting your head to look at him with excitement bubbling on your features, doe eyes pleading with a want.

His expression is flat, trying to contain his emotions. "It's seven in the morning."

"So? When has that stopped me before?"

"It's freezing cold."

"That's your excuse for everything." You scoff, before tilting your head in a challenge. "Are you scared of a little water, Rafe Cameron?"

There's a twinkle in your eyes, something about the way you talk to him, he would never allow from anyone else. It's just you. He had to look away, pretending to shake his head from the idea but knowing, at the end, he lost.

With a long dip into the ocean, you swim around the Druthers with light splashes thrown in his face, causing Rafe to chase after you for your little stunt. When the pair of you returned to the boat, dripping wet on the floor deck, laughter exchanging at the break of dawn.

"You cheated!" You accuse, grinning.

"I did not. You're just slow."

When you change out of your bikini and Rafe changes out of his swim trunks, you return to the cockpit where Rafe dons a new attire: khaki pants, a polo shirt, and his backward baseball cap. The air shifts, a more solemn expression on his face.

"You had enough now, wildflower?" He tips his head to your direction, as you approach him. "Ready to return back to the real world?"

You groan. "What's so special about that place?"

"Nothing that matters to you," he declares, "but I have a couple of errands I have to run today. I have to get back, but I won't leave until you're feeling better."

"Hm." You consider your satisfaction. Standing before Rafe, you watch as his lips curl in amusement at the way you're mauling through the finer details. The itinerary of your day and whether it was enough. When your eyes lock with his, you offer him a sweet smile, albeit a little reluctant.

"What?"

You don't answer him, reaching for his hat and taking it off his head, before plopping it over your own as a keepsake souvenir. "Now, I am."

—

After spending your afternoon with Topper and Kelce at the Country Club, distracting them from their tee time with your commentary about their swings, Rafe finally arrives to join you.

But it's different.

When Rafe said he had a couple of errands to run, you didn't ask for their specifics. He just said he'll join you later and you were content with that assumption.

You should've prepared yourself.

Rafe got a new haircut; a buzz that took away his dirty blond locks and a clean fade on the sides. For some reason, it makes your heart accelerate. Your breath shortens. Rafe has always been attractive before but now, you couldn't even look at him.

When he tries to approach you in greeting, you dip out of the way and return to Topper and Kelce. However, in the middle of your path, you nearly tripped over some hazardously-abandoned golf club one of the boys threw out, but Rafe caught you. A hand on your elbow, his brows drawn together in concern.

"You good?" He asks. You can't help but let your eyes stray up to his hairline, finding it voided of the curtain bangs it previously occupies and the strands you like to mess with. Your gaze instantly drops to the ground.

"I'm–I'm fine." You stutter, heat rising to your cheeks from the embarrassing fact that you couldn't even make a clean getaway. Rafe helps you find your balance and you slip out of his grasp as you excuse yourself back to the other Kooks.

That's how the rest of the evening went. Through another round of golf and a dinner at the restaurant inside the Country Club, you try to ignore Rafe to the best of your abilities. It was a difficult task but a necessary one. Your emotions were fuzzy and harder to control. You couldn't even look at your best friend without flushing or revealing everything on your face.

You thought you could wait it out till you get home.

"Come on, wildflower." Rafe grabs your wrist, just as you're about to join Topper in his car, and you turn to face his contempt expression. Annoyance written over his features. "I'm driving you home."

"No, it's fine. Top said he can give me a ride—"

"We live nearby each other. There's no point for Top to do all that. Right?" Rafe cuts a hard look to the blond in the driver seat, to whom easily backs off with two hands raised in surrender. Coward. Rafe turns back to you. "Let's go."

You end up in the passenger seat of his truck. On the long drive back to Figure Eight, you were uncharacteristically quiet. Often, you would fidget with the stereo, messing with Rafe's presets on country and rap stations, to which he always has to swat your hands away. Today, you sat obediently in your seat, hands tucked between your thighs, looking anywhere but Rafe.

"You're not going to listen to music?" He asks, trying to cut the silence. You shake your head.

"I'm not feeling it."

You try to count the seconds. You try to distract yourself by looking out the window and listening to the chirps of crickets coming out, but all you can focus on is the sound of yours and Rafe's breathing. The acute awareness of something in the air. The amount of space between the two of you. The way something deep in you changed about him.

It isn't his fault. Whatsoever. It's all yours. All those times spent at Tannyhill, stealing his shirts to wear to sleep, cuddling up in his bed after sneaking out of your estate, running around with Rafe doing god-knows-what. You developed something for him. A crush. An inkling.

You always told yourself you could control it. It's natural for best friends to like each other at one point. It'll fade away eventually.

But, unfortunately for you, that isn't the case. it got worse. It grew more desperate. With each inching territory into something else means a larger consequence it can have on your friendship.

You can't lose him.

"Hey." Rafe calls out, his voice softens considerably from the aggression he used with Topper a while back. You don't turn to face him, despite that being his sole objective, and you respond back with a light hum. "Am I driving you home or Tannyhill?"

To you, those are the same things. Home is where Tannyhill is, where Rafe is. But, you knew what he was referring to.

"Tannyhill." You answer in a chipped tone. "I forgot my bag."

"Of course, you did." He teases, trying to break the tension with some lightheartedness. It doesn't work. You don't answer, too lost in resisting the urge to look at him.

Rafe sighs when you refuse to acknowledge him and turns back to the road. That's when you spare a glance from the corner of your peripheral; just a small peek.

And there he is: Rafe with the fresh shave that is such a strange yet welcomed sight. It brings out a clearer definition of his handsome features, the planes of his sharp profile, the cut of his jawline and the wrinkles around his eyes you always adore. It's too much for you.

You can't let him know that.

He's your best friend.

When he reaches Tannyhill, you leap out of the moving vehicle and race up the porch. You take the hidden key from under the mat and turn the lock, slipping into the familiar foyer and up the large stairwell.

Racing against an internal clock, once you enter the bedroom, you search for your bag, but you can't seem to pinpoint its location. When you manage to miraculously find it underneath the covers, you throw it over your shoulders and sprint to the exit.

Only for Rafe to block it.

"Why are you in such a rush?" He asks, his brows furrowed together as he examines you. You quickly drop your gaze to the ground, pretending to be interested in the patterns on the marble.

"I just..." You stammer for an excuse. "I just got to get home."

"Why? You hate your house."

"I don't hate it." You lie. The conversation tips into an awkward tension—the exact thing you were trying to avoid. You think you need to spend a day, or two, or a whole week, to collect yourself and force yourself back to normal. Back to when you can look at him without revealing everything on your face.

"God, what is it? You don't like it?" Rafe laughs with an ounce of nervousness and the sound takes you back. You look up, finding him running a hand over his buzzcut. "It's my hair, isn't it?"

He didn't know why he decided to buzz it off. He just did. He didn't care if his father didn't approve or if Wheezie would make fun of him for the sudden change in appearance. That didn't matter to him.

But your opinions did.

"What?" Your lips part. Were you that obvious? "I never said that."

"You didn't need to. This entire evening, you've barely looked at me."

He's right.

"I was busy."

"Playing golf with Top? You hate that shit." He retorts, dropping his hand to his side, clenching them into whiten knuckles. "And when we were at the restaurant. You were sitting with Kelce. Why the fuck were you sitting with him instead of me?"

You swallow hard. Your throat is tightening with all the words you can't reveal.

"Maybe I just want to change it up. I am friends with them too—"

"But you're my friend first."

You scoff. "Possessive much?"

"Very." He answers nonchalantly. Your heart skips a beat. He can't say that; it's not fair. "And knowing you for so long, I know what you're telling me is complete and total bullshit."

His hand slides under your jaw, lifting your gaze to meet his, and you can't help but feel your walls crumbling. You're afraid. You're so afraid.

"Come on, wildflower." He murmurs softly, swiping his thumb across your cheek. "Tell me the truth."

You have always been able to do that. In ways. When Rafe asks something of you, you're always able to tell him straight. It's one of the qualities he likes about you. Now is the first time you're going against your nature. Because it's too close, too real, that it can change everything.

Your throat grows dry and you lick your bottom lip, causing Rafe to glance down.

"I..." You begin, trying to string together a coherent sentence that won't damage everything. He raises a brow, waiting. "Sometimes it's hard for me to look at you."

You close your eyes after the confession. Your heart is in his hands.

All the air in the room stills, as if the air conditioner turns off and you're all left with a tense, palpable silence. You can't bear it. At least, at your house, you can blast your speakers on full-volume to create some level of noise and block it out. Here, all you can hear is the thumping of your heart in your ears.

"Say something." You urge.

"Sometimes it's hard for me to look at you too."

Your heart drops. You think he doesn't understand. He thinks you can't stand him physically, especially after his haircut, and this is a similar sentiment shared by him about you.

He doesn't feel the same way.

"Oh."

You open your eyes, trying hard not to cry. You can feel them swelling with hot tears but you blink fast, trying to not let Rafe see.

He immediately recognizes the look, drawing back his hand. That’s not what he meant. "Don't cry."

You're not doing a good job at hiding anything today. "No, it's okay," you say with a crack voice, "you don't have to—"

"No, fuck," he swears, "what I mean is that, sometimes, when you look at me, I just—" He couldn't explain himself, not in time, not in the way he wants, that he covers your eyes, flooding your vision with darkness and heightening every other sense.

Rafe releases a deep exhale, collecting himself. "Those eyes..." He mumbles, the resonance of his voice so close, it's as if he's right beside you. You feel his breathing fanning against the curve of your neck, raising goosebumps. "They drive me fucking insane."

Then, he kisses your neck.

The act jolts you by surprise.

"Everything about you drives me insane." He confesses against your heated skin, the vibration of his words sending straight tingles through your body. "I can't go a day without thinking about you. About wanting you."

Not just as a best friend, but as a whole. Everything about you he needs. In his life; forever. Sometimes, he can't believe you exist.

You're overwhelmed with all these new emotions. Your heart is swelling. "Rafe..."

"You're my best friend, right?" He muses, delivering kisses up the column of your throat to the underside of your jaw, and making his way closer to your lips. "But you're also the only one for me."

Before he gets to your mouth, you grab his wrist, the one holding you blindfolded. He stops in place—afraid this is your time to reject him.

"Rafe." You breathe out. "Can I see you?"

He slowly removes his hand, allowing your vision to flood back with his presence. This time, the sight of Rafe doesn't push you into overdrive. There's a new sense of clarity and calm, an elated comfort you don't share with anyone else.

You take your time drinking him in. From his face, to his lips, to the fresh haircut you're feeling entirely too grateful for. You do it all without fear.

"What?" He demands, his insecurities skyrocketing through the roof. "Don't like it?"

"I love you."

His heart lunges in his chest. He couldn't believe the words coming from your lips. When it completely registers that this is not some sweet, wet dream he's going to wake up from, his hands reach forward to cup either side of your face and he finally kisses you.

His force pushes you back against his bed and you land on the mattress with a soft thump. You laugh into his mouth and Rafe grins against your lips.

"Eager, much?"

"I wanted to hear you say that for so long." He admits, his hand travels down your waist to grab your hips and pull you closer. Rafe deepens the kiss, swallowing the little sounds you're making, until you have to pull away to catch your breath.

You can't believe this is happening.

"I didn't know you were such a good kisser."

"Yeah? You wanna know what else I'm good at?"

Your eyes drop to his pants, seeing the subtle outline of his erection straining against his zipper, and he chuckles lowly. "You want it tonight?"

You nod timidly. Your eyes dropping to your lap again, but this time, Rafe doesn't allow you to do such things.

He grabs your chin, forcing your gaze to his. "Don't do that, baby. You know how I feel about you getting shy from asking what you want. Use your words."

The new nickname is making you lightheaded. You can't believe this is real. "I want you, Rafe."

Sweetest goddamn words he ever heard.

He tips his head to your clothes. "Take it off."

"You first."

He laughs at your competitiveness, always trying to challenge him, but he doesn't resist. He pushes himself off the mattress, pulling off his shirt and removing his pants. All that is left is his boxer-briefs, which reveals the outline of his bulge. "Your turn."

You take off your shirt and your shorts and decide, last minute, to go the extra mile and unclasp your bra too. It falls over your shoulders and you throw it out onto the floor.

Rafe takes his time, staring at your tits. He has seen you naked before, the consequence of your intimate relationship that pushes the boundaries into blurred lines and the inevitable collision of morning showers in his ensuite and drunken exchanges after parties.

But this time, it's different. This time, it's a sight that's intentional—just for him.

"Do you know how long I've waited for this?"

You gawk at him, the words send a thrill down your spine. "Do you know how long I waited for this?" You gesture back to him, at his naked frame, and he smirks.

"You got an eyeful last night."

"Oh, shut up," you use your leg to kick him, but Rafe catches your ankle in the process. Your eyes widen as he uses the opportunity to spread your legs apart, sinking between your thighs. His gaze finds your soaked panties.

His thumb traces across your panties, drawing out your wetness against the fabric and collecting your arousal. You whimper, aching into his touch.

"Rafe, please." You beg. His eyes lifts to find yours in a self-satisfied grin. He loves knowing you're this desperate for him, only him, that his fingers hook under the band of your panties.

"Lift your hips for me." He commands and you obey. He pulls off your panties and hauls you to the ledge of his bed. With that, his fingers caress your wet slit, drawing out a low moan from you. "Fuck."

He has imagined that sound a thousand times over, but it's incomparable to the real thing. To know you're feeling this way because of him. He feels himself growing harder, straining against the thin fabric and begging to be inside of you.

But he wants to pleasure you first.

Rafe lowers himself and covers your clit with his mouth. He proceeds to suck, his fingers grazing your entrance before plunging a thick digit inside.

You tip your head against the mattress, reveling in the feel of his tongue against your swollen nub, the way he thrusts into you with a steady pace and the additive finger. Your legs drape over his shoulders, closing him in.

"Fuck, baby, you taste so sweet," Rafe mumbles against you, the vibration of his words stirring something inside of you. "I can't believe I haven't been tasting you every single fucking night."

You draw out with a breathy moan, feeling yourself clench at his words. "We have all the time now."

"I bet I can make you come on my face fast, though."

You don't get a chance to entertain the response before Rafe sucks harder, pumping inside of you with a determined speed that causes you to arch off the mattress and claw at his sheets.

"Shit," you whimper, squeezing your thighs together at the intense pleasure, forcing Rafe to use his free hand to push your legs apart. You feel your climax rapidly approaching. "Oh, god, oh, god."

You come on his face, as promised, and you slump back against the bed, catching your breath. Rafe removes his hand from your cunt, the emptiness causes a little whine.

"What?" He looks at you.

"Nothing," you mumble, "I just want you inside me."

He laughs. "God, you're needy," he teases, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. "Don't worry, baby, you'll get it soon."

He goes to his nightstand and pulls out a condom. Just as he's about to tear it open, he glances down at you, extending the small square. "Want to do it?"

You nod, pushing yourself upright and taking it from his hands. You rip it open, as Rafe removes his boxers, and his cock springs free, red and swollen with a bit of precum. You smile, glancing up at him with your doe eyes. "Is that because of me?"

"Shut up."

You giggle, rolling the latex over his length, taking your time to admire his size. He's big and perfect, the tip of his cock dripping with his precum that you almost wish you could take him inside your mouth instead. However, despite the recent orgasm, your body wants him inside.

"Lay back." He commands thickly. "Spread your legs."

You do as he says, throbbing from the control he has in the room. Rafe sinks his knees into his mattress, approaching you as he pushes your thighs apart and lines his tip against your entrance, causing your breath to shorten.

"Come on, wildflower, breathe with me."

You nod shakily, closing your eyes for a moment to inhale a calming breath before he plunges deep inside you, filling you to the hilt. A gasp escapes you, his girth stretching you out, but it soon fades into a pleasure unlike any others.

"God, you feel good," he mumbles, lowering himself to your mouth and capturing your lips into a hot kiss. Your hand drapes over his shoulders as he begins to thrust inside of you. "Too fucking good."

You feel perfect. All of this is too perfect. The way you press against him, your fingernails scraping his back, the way your pussy grips him with the ideal amount of pressure, and the way your lips sync with his as if you were made for him.

The air fills with your whimpers and mewls, increasing in volume with each thrusts that enters and leaves you, while Rafe is heaving in breathy grunts and moans. He pushes your legs back, forcing the new position to grant him deeper access into your sweet cunt.

He's hitting new spots you didn't know were possible. It's making your eyes roll to the back of your head, your cries coming out with desperate pleas, that he had to cover your mouth with his to swallow all the noises.

When you feel yourself reaching a familiar high, the buzz tingling between your legs, you grip his shoulders tight. Rafe feels your walls fluttering around him, and he quickened his pace, sweat breaking across his forehead.

Your breath is heavy, your heart is racing, and as you ascend into your peak, you moan out Rafe's name with such euphoric satisfaction, he comes with you, emptying into the condom.

When he finishes, he falls into the space next to you. His breathing is rough, trying to catch his own breath, that you can't help but turn your gaze to his, examining him under this new light.

Rafe catches you staring, the way your eyes lift to his hairline, and he reassures with a soft brush against your jaw. "It'll grow back, I promise."

"it's not that." You declare, dropping your gaze down to his face. You still can't believe the embarrassment you still feel by how attractive he is. "I like it."

"You do?"

"Why else would I hide from you?"

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head with a ghost of a smile on his lips. His hand drops to your waist, pulling you closer to him until you're skin-to-skin, your breasts pressing against his chest.

"You couldn't tell me the whole time?" He mumbles, kissing your nose. You giggle.

"If I did, we wouldn't be here having sex."

He takes a moment to consider your words, before finding some merit in them. "Fair." He declares, just as his eyes find yours again. This time, he can look at you, knowing you're his. "I guess next time I get a new haircut, I can propose, huh?"

Your heart drops. Your smile fades from surprise. "What?"

He laughs at your expression. "You think I'm letting you go after this? It's either us or nothing."

Maybe reality isn’t too bad. 

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[targaryenluvs]

hiiii okay so I had an idea for like Coryo x little sister where she’s about 12 years old and she looks just like her mom and Coryo, Tigris, and Grandma’am just love her so much BUT she somehow ends up in the hunger games s a tribute and she becomes like besties with Wovey, Reaper, and Lucy- plus she’s giving Coryo a heart attack every five minutes especially during the bombing- finally during his peacekeeper era when he finds out they were evicted she was taken from their custody and so when he comes back with the plinth fortune and all that she just runs up and is all cuddly with him and he’s like “u know what fuck custody paperwork” and just snatches her back home- thank u sooo much💗

SAFE AND SOUND

pairings: coriolanus snow x younger!sister!reader, lucy gray x younger!sister!reader

summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.

warnings: murderrr, possessive/selfish thoughts, child endangerment, cheating, rude ass corio, fluff in the end nd a little happy fam, deter from og storyline, protective lucy and snow, family dynamics, theyd do anything to make sure you’re okay

a/n: i did change the story line a little!!

the drones were whirring about you.

people were being knocked down as lucy grabbed you and ran to safety. “keep with me baby girl!” she shouted as you ran, your legs ached but you knew what would happen if you stopped.

coriolanus couldn’t breathe until you were safe. which is why he exhaled a long and heavy breath when you and lucy settled into the vent again. everyone around him was quiet for once, they laughed at all the tributes except you. they all loved you, every time coriolanus brought you around their horrible personalities and stuck up selves melted away with your adoring smile and sweet voice.

reprieve, or so you thought, came in the form of the large tube in front of you. but based off of lucy’s face you knew something was up, and as wovey walked towards it you couldn’t help but shout and cry for her.

“down goes wovey!” thank god. coriolanus thought. that idiotic girl was impulsive and silly, she shouldn’t have lasted as long as she did. she almost killed you with her stupidity, brung you along to her execution as you cried for her to stop.

you’d survived. somehow.

in the history of the games there had only been two victors. so far.

but at what cost? your brother had been sentenced away to district 12 and the only other person who shared any understanding for what you went through was no where to be found. in the wind, gone.

so you did what you thought best.

you ran.

all the way to twelve and the comfort of your dear older brother.

he was going insane. he’d lost you and lucy. sejanus was god knows where and probably planning something illegal. he was stressed the fuck out and all he wanted was a hug from you. for you to put secret braids in his hair when you thought he was sleeping, for you to kiss his cheek every morning before rambling on about school.

the place was alive as she sang. everyone danced but coriolanus stared. he’d found one half of the puzzle. lucy looked amazing and he found himself relaxing at the sound of her voice.

you’d peeked through the window. the noise had drawn you to it. it was your first day alone, ever, and in the worst district. you were scared beyond measure but soon to be saved as you caught a glimpse of lucy twirling on stage, her eye-line drawing you to corio.

the hug from behind caught him off guard but had his mind spinning as he recognised the small hands gripping oh so tightly at his waist. the bracelet he’d made so long ago and the smell of roses, which for once wasn’t himself, and hadn’t been for a while.

“y/n.” he breathed out as you laced your arms around his neck, “i came from the capitol. i hate it corio. they took me away from our family and put me with some random family. i don’t like it, i miss you. please, don’t take me back.” you cried as he lifted you up, resting on his hip as he made his way outside, lucy following in tow as she wiped away tears after seeing your sweet face.

the lake was quiet and tame, slow waves lapping at the jetty and land as you lay curled up in corio’s lap, lulled to sleep by lucy’s melodies. and whilst the trio of you all had no idea what the future held it all didn’t matter in this moment. you felt happy, and you hadn’t felt it in so long. corio and lucy were your family, and you loved them.

corio had done horrible things in his life, the second you were drawn into the games nothing else mattered besides keeping you safe. those horrible things were known to few, one of them being the songbird to your left.

and no would ever tell you these things.

all that mattered?

you were safe and sound with them, they’d made sure of it.

[whore-era]

delinquent!ellie williams headcanons 18+

has the MEANEST MUG FACE at everyone but her close loved ones, especially you. she shows you the softest side to her bc you naturally just draw it out. ellie will literally have the grouchiest face, but once she sees you, it will be all soft heart eyes around you and you only! everyone else though? fuck them. they will get a bitch face and a middle finger thrown their way!

is guilty for always manspreading, but it's okay because it kinda stirs something inside you anyways. you guys will literally be anywhere, and she'll sit with her legs spread with her hands behind her head and you'd find yourself walking over and plopping yourself on her lap.

is extremely territorial and possessive of her girl, but not in a way where she's controlling you by any means. ellie is aware of how gorgeous and sexy her girl is, and while she has no problem with others looking, she draws the line at people approaching you. you would be at a party, talking with your friends, occasionally looking across the room at her. while giving each other loving glances, some guy approaches probably saying "hey girl, you lookin' finnneeee as hell tonight, you wanna get outta here?" and she'll already be behind him, fists balled up and hissing, "get the fuck away from my girlfriend."

would absolutely beat someone's ass for you. if someone is disrespectful to you or looks at you the wrong way or god forbid, lay their hands on you, it's automatically on sight for her. "but you should'a seen the other guy, babe. he's got it worse," she'll say, as you're sat on the sink with her in between your legs, tending to her small cuts and bruises. "what'd i tell you, els? you can't keep getting into these stupid fights because one guy says something dumb about me." "yea, baby, i know. i just hate when people say shit about you," she coos, "you're absolutely fucking amazing, and everyone should know that by now." you both end up kissing in the bathroom and it always ends up with you being bent over the sink taking her strap-

you would CONSTANTLY be on her ass about everything. since she does have a short temper, you always find yourself having to check her and and lecture her a bit, and she lowkey kinda loves it? ellie thinks you're hot as hell taking a little bit of control and telling her what to do, and every time you do have to lecture her, she'll look at you with desire in her eyes and respond with "yes, ma'am", "alright, baby, whatever you say", "mhm yes, baby m'listening" even though she quite literally is hyper-focused on how sexy as fuck you look lecturing her rn.

always putting her hands on you! whether it's rubbing your ass when she's cuddling you, holding your hand when you're out and about, or putting her hands on your hips and waist when she wants to be close to you. 

showing how she feels about you in actions rather than words. ellie has a tough time expressing how she feels for you directly in words, and sometimes her message that she’s trying to send doesn’t always sound…right. so she’ll do little acts of services for you like picking up lunch for you on days when you’re extremely swamped with work and assignments, organizing your books and backpack when you fall asleep on your desk from studying, picking up your favorite snacks when you need a lil cheering up, and helping you take off your clothes when you’re extra exhausted from the day. 

always assuring you’re safe. ellie will always make sure you never have to travel alone and tries to walk you to and from class, but if she’s busy she’ll bug dina to do it. she’ll always ask where you are and who you’re with just to make sure you’re safe and alright, periodically checking in with you with texts (even tho it can be a lil bit annoying but u never say anything bc u know she’s just worried). baby u ok taking the bus alone? yes els i’m fine babe. u sure? i can come get u rn. no my love u don’t need to do that. swear. yk what babe let me ask dina if she can- ellieeee….

a/n this one was rly short my apologies ;P

[choccy-milky]

bruh i need to vent about a rude comment i got on my recent chap and also about clora, cuz its something thats been on my mind for a while now. it has spoilers to my most recent chap tho so im putting it below

so in my most recent chap clora gets hit by the killing curse but thanks to seb sacrificing himself for her, it doesn’t work/she survives. and I got a rly rude comment about how that’s super cringe and that clora is a "shoe horning of every possible manifestation of Mary-Sueism I have ever seen." theyre dropping my fic after almost 500k words bc apparently THAT’S where they draw the line and that "just somehow pulling it out the bag and surviving a killing curse from the power of love. In simpler terms, it’s absolutely cringe worthy" and "forgive me if I rolled an eye at the yet again invincible nature of Clora Clemons-the-one-eighth-Veela-extraordinaire"

BUT LIKE LMAO TELL ME U DIDN’T READ/WATCH HARRY POTTER WITHOUT TELLING ME. that’s literally what happens to harry??but its only cringe when it happens to our "mary-sue" clora? like yeah sure love magic might be a bit cringe but IM LITERALLY JUST PULLING FROM THE SOURCE MATERIAL. of all the things to take issue with in my fic and interpretations, theyre taking issue with something that’s canon BAHAHA.

and since im on the topic of clora being mary sue can I just say I hate the misogyny/internalized misogyny that i've seen some people (NOT A LOT, THANKFULLY) treat her with. like i get it, im not pale and blonde and as conventionally pretty as clora is, but even if I was, is that a reason to hate me?? and does being beautiful and well-liked = mary sue? bc as far as I know, mary sue is a chara who is just naturally amazing at everything and doesnt need to try hard and theyre just inexplicably great for no reason (like mc in the base game BAHHAA) if anything the mary sue in MY fic is seb LMAO (but hes a boy so its ok). like clora has worked hard and studied magic all her life due to being a squib and wanting to make up for not being able to DO it. she isnt good at flying, seb is still better at her than duelling, shes really short sighted when it comes to doing/thinking whats best for others and can be a huge idiot.... and like. the only guys that have even shown interest in clora on a real scale have been seb and leander (and then lawley for blackmail purposes, and also bc he hates seb) so its not like literally everyone is falling over themselves for her?? like her interactions with the main cast of boys (ominis, garreth, amit) theyre all indifferent to her LMAO but still, the fact that shes pretty and guys here and there might look at her and go o shes cute! doesnt make her a mary sue SORRy thats just called being attractive idk its just annoying that ppl automatically see a nice kind beautiful female character without any VISIBLE flaws and go SHES TOO PERFECT!! MARY SUE!! WAH IM JEALOUS! and like I get it bc when I was younger I probs would have been annoyed by clora as well due to my own insecurities and internalized misogyny but hey, how about u just realize that’s ur own problem and your own jealousy, and not a real one HAHAH anyway ive since evolved bc I used to be a ‘not like other girls’ type girl back in highschool. trying to be super tomboy-y bc I thought being feminine was cringe and too basic but now ive embraced it and love girly things and dresses and charas like clora who are still strong and showcase their strengths and weaknesses in subtler ways, and I want to smooch her and make out with her. get behind me clora ill protect you🤺🤺🤺

[miraclewoozi]

UNDER THE COLLAR. -l.sm

your unlucky-in-love best friend goes on a date with someone who, by all accounts, should be his perfect person. so... how exactly do you end up being the one who tucks his sorry, drunk ass into bed?

pairing; lee seokmin x gn!reader.  (he calls reader pretty once but that is all<3) content; fluff / some mild angst towards the middle / pining / friends to… still friends but with some ~tension~ and a snuggle? w/c; 4.6k and a smidge. warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption (offscreen), drunkenness, some suggestiveness (MINORS DNI), reader has some hard thoughts, a bit of affectionate touching but nothing deliberately sexual? seok is needy and cuddly (and a terrible flirt). let me know if i've forgotten anything! note; this was originally gonna be part of a mini-series/multi-chap situation but!! i ended up hating the full thing and only being attached to like. two parts of it lol so here we are! there could potentially be a second part to this? if people want it? i don’t know yet! but this kinda just works as it’s own standalone thing anyway i think~ happy sunday <3

The first text comes through just after you finally set your phone down on the bedside table. Your eyes are dry and have started to sting from a long evening staring at screens, your bones feel impossibly heavy, and you think maybe you’re settling down for a semi-decent night’s sleep when you hear the buzz of a notification. A buzz you initially plan to ignore. It can’t be anything that important: who would be trying to reach you at this time of night, anyway? 

You roll away from the device and snuggle down into your pillows, pulling the sleeves of your — his — jumper down over your palms and resting them just in front of your face. This particular garment stopped smelling like Seokmin after the second time it went through your washing machine, but there’s a familiarity in the slightly rough inner lining that makes you want to wear it to sleep in every night, forever. He never liked it when his hoodies were too new, too soft, leaving balls of fluff all over his t-shirts and vests; you don’t know when you started to feel the same way, but you’ve realised recently that you do.

Your eyes flutter closed and your body relaxes, head starting to feel fuzzy in that calm, white-noise, lovely way. You haven’t felt this tired and genuinely sleepy for… months. It’s bliss. 

And then your phone buzzes again. You squeeze your eyes tighter, determined not to lose this warm, comfortable feeling, but your phone vibrates and vibrates and vibrates and with an audible groan, you sit back up, reaching over to see what, exactly, is so damn important at 02:23 in the fucking morning.

Seokmin’s contact name flashes up on the lock screen and you see that there are seven unread messages from him in the space of the last 3 minutes. Instantly, your brows draw together: he’s seldom shied away from a double text, but you’ve never known him to pull a septuple, and you can’t feel but feel a little bit of dread in your stomach as you read through them. 

> seokmin: yn

> seokmin: ynnnnnn

> seokmin: i lied

> seokmin: i didmt go homr yet

> seokmin: can you come get mr

> seokmin: mr

> seokmin: m e

You shoot back a message instantly asking where he is, turning on your bedside lamp and already swinging your legs out from under the covers. You keep hold of your phone in one hand, waiting for it to buzz again to tell you he’s given you his location. With the other, you search for and pull on some sweatpants, sliding into a pair of sneakers. His replies come simultaneously too quickly, and entirely not fast enough.

> seokmin: u knkw the bar in town with the bear statiiue oitside

> seokmin: lol

> seokmin: do you think i ciuld beat thsi bear in s fight???

> y/n: christ. okay, wait inside for me. i’ll be there in 15. 

> y/n: also, no. you couldn’t. x

Your veins feel alive with adrenaline and worry as you grab your keys and head down the stairs to your car. The drive is quiet — you don’t even waste the few seconds it would take to plug into the AUX and pick a playlist, leaving it up to the radio to keep you company on the way. It doesn’t take too long: soon enough, you’re pulling up alongside the infamous bear statue to find your best friend sitting on the curb, propped up against the marble base.

“I thought I told you to wait inside?” you chide, rolling down the passenger side window so you can announce your arrival. It’s like he’s moving in slow-motion, or maybe your words just take an extra few seconds to reach him? Either way, he doesn’t lift his head until a silence has settled between you, and he doesn’t smile until his slightly glazed-over eyes land on your face.

“Y/n!” He cheers, lifting himself off the floor and staggering upright, pushing a hand through his hair. “Hi! Yeah, I know — but look, it was too hot in there. It was so hot. And I didn’t want you to wait-…” Hiccup. “To have to wait for me.” 

He slides into the passenger seat with a contented sigh, a mess of long limbs he can’t quite control, adjusting the vent in front of him so that the cold from your air-con breezes against his flushed cheeks. As he settles, you reach over him, pulling his seatbelt across his chest. 

“I was getting to that,” he whines, pouting his pretty lips at you, and you click the belt in place with a laugh. History tells you that when he’s drunk, Seokmin doesn’t always believe in the power of the seatbelt, among other things, so you think maybe you could be forgiven for not believing him this time.

“Okay, dumbass. Sure you were.”

He reaches down into the passenger footwell for your AUX cord, bumping his head on the dashboard and letting out an exaggerated hiss as he sits back upright. Nonetheless, he plugs his phone in and presses play on his own night-driving playlist, holding the device between both of his hands as you start off towards his place.

“So…” you prompt, because he’s staring blankly out the windscreen with a tiny smile on his lips and you’re concerned that maybe, this time, he has actually managed to drink himself stupid. He rolls his head over to look at you, and fond bliss is written into every line of his face. “What happened?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, still just… staring at you as you drive. Staring, even though every detail of you is committed to his memory already. Staring, even though he knows how your eyelashes flutter when you blink. Even though he knows how the muscles in your throat bob as you swallow the saliva on your tongue. Even though he’s sat in your passenger seat enough times to remember exactly how the late-night glow of the street-lamps overhead catch and illuminate the curve of your nose, how they highlight the point of your chin. He knows all this, but he can’t help himself. Staring is… indulgent. So, so indulgent. But he is pretty drunk and he can get away with it when you’re focused on the road — at least, that’s what he tells himself.  

When he does attempt to speak, just as you slow to a stop at a set of traffic lights, the sparkle in his gaze falters. He faces forward again, shoulders rising and slumping in a meek ‘I don’t know’.

“She was… perfect, I think,” he tries to explain, and you glance across to look at him; his lips are both non-existent, pulled between his teeth and he has worry lines creasing up his forehead. With the hand not holding the wheel, you reach over, pressing your fingertips to where his eyebrows have scrunched to try and get him to relax the muscles there. It sort of works, if only because he releases an involuntary breath of a laugh.

“Not perfect,” you gasp, dramatic and teasing even though it stings a little to hear him say that out loud. “I mean, that definitely explains why you were out drinking, alone, three hours after you told me you were heading home.” He turns his head fully away from you, now, letting your hand drop dangerously towards his lap. You pull it back to yourself before it collides with his jeans, clearing your throat. The traffic signal changes to green, and you drive ahead. “I’m kidding. Come on. Talk to me.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, despondent, crossing his arms over his chest. You’re not sure you’ve seen him acting like this since you were teenagers. It’s a strange twist away from your usual, very easy-going banter.

“Seok...” You try again. “I won’t stop for nuggets if you don’t tell me.” 

“Don’t stop, then.”

“Seokmin…”

“Don’t-…” It comes out quickly, the vein in the side of his neck popping until he takes a deep breath in and releases it slowly. “Y/n. I’m tired, I just-… I don’t wanna talk about it. Can you please just… take me home?”

He’s still struggling with his words, but he isn’t abrasive in the way he speaks; that’s something you learned about Seokmin very early on in your friendship. He doesn’t raise his voice at you. He doesn’t get deep and gravelly when he’s pissed off. He just… seems to let himself feel things super intensely for a few seconds at a time and then he short-circuits, goes flat. It might be convenient for him, but it gets frustrating for you. Especially when he encourages you to open up to him as much as he does. 

His head is bowed and cradled in his hands when you pull up outside his apartment block, and you unfasten his seatbelt for him which jolts him upright. You stay facing front, though, guilt coursing through your veins at the thought of maybe having pushed him too far. You just want to understand. Why was his date being good such a bad thing?

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” 

You shake your head. “Don’t be,” you tell him, and he scoffs, but quietly.

“Y/n,” he sighs, his crown falling against the headrest; he reaches over to you, places a hand just above your knee, and you try to ignore how it feels like someone has crashed their car into you from behind. How your heart lurches forwards in your chest. How your adrenaline spikes.

“I mean it. I shouldn’t have kept pushing. I’m sorry.”

He chews this over for a moment, but he doesn’t remove his hand, and you find that maybe you don’t want him to. Not yet, at least.

“Will you help me get up the stairs?”

“Of course I will.”

With one of his arms over your shoulders, your own supporting his waist, the pair of you begin the obnoxiously long ascent up through his building to his apartment. He’s lived here for a year and a half, and you think maybe the elevator has been working… for a total of about a week, since then? God forbid he ever got injured and couldn’t climb six flights just to get himself home. The climb is bad enough as is.

Somewhere around landing number four, Seokmin pulls away from you, mumbling something about having the spins and needing to sit down. You ease him to perch on one of the windowsills, sitting down next to him with your arm still around his hips to keep him balanced on the narrow ledge.

“You should’ve taken me back to your place,” he grumbles, doubling over with his elbows against his knees and his fingers linked behind his neck, taking deep breaths.

“Get your feet flat on the floor. Look at your shoelaces. Breathe slow. It’ll help,” you coo, and he shuffles a little so that he can do exactly that (not without wobbling and almost landing on his face, and he thanks you and your “super strong arms” for keeping him from such a fate). After a few more seconds of deep breathing and grounding, he lifts his head. Crisis averted.

“Are you-… like, a witch, or something?” he asks out of nowhere, and you snort so loudly that your throat hurts. He keeps staring at you, waiting for you to answer. Apparently your laugh wasn’t response enough.

“What are you talking about, Seok?” 

He rolls his eyes at you, as if you should just know. “How did you know how to fix me? It’s like magic.”

“Because I know you, stupid. Come on. Two more flights and I’ll get you into bed.”

“S’that a promise?” he asks, grinning to himself as you haul him back to standing, and he stumbles slightly against you, hands braced on your ribs. Sweating a little, you manoeuvre yourself away from him, landing a gentle, playful hit to his side. 

It doesn’t make your heart flutter, hearing what can only be a drunk rendition of his bedroom voice. It doesn’t. It doesn’t. It doesn’t.

“Save it for your next date with Ms. Perfect, would you?”

“Agh. You’re the worst.”

“I know. Now come on.”

After a few minutes of fumbling through Seokmin’s pockets yourself for his keys (it’s as if he’s forgotten how both hands and pockets work in his now very giggly stupor), apparently brushing every single one of his ticklish spots on the way, you’re inside his apartment and on your knees, untying his shoes for him, easing them off his feet. You don’t think he can be trusted to lean down to do it on his own without breaking something.

Or himself.

“If you go get ready for bed, I’ll bring you some water?” you suggest, sitting back on your heels, smiling up at him. There’s a weight in the gaze he’s looking down at you with, in the way his tongue darts out over his lips, and how his mouth doesn’t fully close after. You tell yourself he’s definitely only looking at you like this because he’s drunk, because you’re helping him — the boy doesn’t know ass from elbow, right now — but there’s no escaping the fact that your stomach drops a little at his intensity.

“Okay,” he strains after a moment, and you stand up and away from him, kicking off your own shoes. He heads in one direction towards his bedroom, and you move in the other towards his kitchen. 

Stop it, you tell yourself, leaning over the sink and splashing cold water from the faucet onto your face. Stop thinking about him like that. He’s your best friend. Stop it.

But… shit, you can’t get those big brown eyes out of your head. The way he looked down at you, the softness of his brows, the heat radiating off him. There’s nothing you can do to stop the way your thighs press together standing in his kitchen, in clothes that— you realise now— are entirely his. The hoodie. The sweatpants you pulled on. They’re an old pair that he let you steal just after your most recent breakup, when you’d stayed on his couch for a week straight just so you didn’t have to look at how ugly and empty your own apartment was. Everything. Even down to the socks.

You thought it was hard enough hearing that he was going out for dinner to your favourite restaurant with someone who wasn’t you; nothing could have prepared you for standing in his kitchen at three in the morning, hot under the collar over five seconds of tipsy eye contact, knowing he’s getting undressed behind the door you’ve been staring at for… minutes, now. Actual minutes. 

Oh, you think, feeling your blood run cold. 

Oh. 

I want him.

More minutes pass as you stew in this information — in the knowledge that you’re fucking desperate for the man who has been there for you through everything important enough to remember, and probably everything you’ve forgotten, too. The boy who took you to all of your school dances and was the perfect date, the perfect gentleman, the perfect partner. The man who has sat next to you in the doctor’s waiting room more times than you can count, waiting for results and sitting outside appointments that he told you that you were brave enough to book. Seokmin, who has been under your nose this entire fucking time — you want him, the man who went for dinner with his dream woman, today, and he said she was perfect. Acid burns the back of your throat as you fight not to run all the way back down to your car.

Fuck. It gets astronomically worse. I love him.

“Y/n?” you hear, and his whiny, gentle voice glides across the apartment like it’s been mounted on a cloud, blown straight into your ears. It floats around in your brain in the most beautiful way, and you think there could be love-hearts in the reflections on your eyes even despite the stress you’re now under. It occurs to you that his faucet is still running, and you still have two empty glasses sitting on the counter. How long has it been? Get it together. 

“Just a second,” you call back. Your voice breaks as you say it and you can hear him fucking giggle from behind the ajar door to his bedroom. The fluttering in your stomach worsens, and by the time you’ve shut off the tap and you’re walking through to him, you’re wondering if it’s possible for people to grow butterfly gardens inside themselves without noticing. No-one has ever made you feel this nervous, before. 

Breathe, you tell yourself as he comes into view, already snuggled down against his pillows with the top of his bare chest and shoulders visible in the low light. 

Fuck. 

This is the last thing you needed.

“Hi,” he greets you, pushing to sit up with eyes softer than the glow of the setting sun. “I missed you.” 

You stand corrected. That is. 

“You’re such a loser.”

You set his glass down on his bedside and crouch next to him. “Did you brush your teeth?” you ask, and his face transforms from a stupid childish pout at being teased to a devastatingly bright grin. 

This running joke you’ve shared between yourselves since your first night on the town together illuminates him, and he nods, proudly, his hair falling down over his face. You reach up to push a few strands away from his eyes, despite yourself.

“Sure did,” he tells you, and you believe him but you raise a brow anyway. He’s so pretty. With his playful smile, tongue held between his teeth, his nose a little scrunched. Fuck, how can anyone be so pretty?

“So if I go check your toothbrush, right now…” His smile turns into a laugh, his head lifts into your lingering touch until his cheek is fully rested in the palm of your hand. Stupidly, you tell yourself that this could mean something. Maybe he wants to feel you more.  

“You could find out another way,” he says, his voice dropping half an octave as his already heavy eyelids blink slowly at you. It’s a good thing you’re already on your knees because that tone could have you sinking to the ground in a split. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth fleetingly and you think you’re one more line away from melting into the floorboards. 

“You’re so out of it,” you murmur, shaking your head at him. “Did she make you get the oysters? Are you high on aphrodisiacs right now?”

He groans again and rolls onto his back, a hand dramatically coming up to cover his eyes. 

“Stop talking about her,” he whines. “I’m with you. I don’t wanna talk— I don’t wanna think about her right now.”

“Seokmin-…”

“Y/n,” he interrupts, lolling his head to the side, looking at you through impossibly long, dark lashes from between his fingers. “Please.”

You’re not sure what the pull in his voice is in aid of but you force yourself to let it go, pushing yourself up to your feet before you can fall forwards into him.

“I’m gonna head home,” you say, the quiet between you laying thick and heavy against your skin. “Text me when you’re awake tomorrow, okay?”

He contemplates this for a second, frowning; he doesn’t say anything as you start backing towards his bedroom door. Then…

“Please don’t.”

He says it so quietly. So hushed, you think you might have misheard. So delicate, you hold your breath just in case you somehow manage to shatter the moment. 

“Don’t what?” You ask, stopping in your tracks. He breathes deep and props up on one elbow, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Don’t go.”

Glued to the spot, you stare at him. You feel your head tilt to the side without really controlling it, and an eyebrow creeps up your forehead, slowly. 

“I left some lights on in my apartment,” you say feebly, and even though it’s true, a selfish part of you hopes that he’ll still keep trying to talk you around. It won’t take a lot to convince you. It never does. 

“So?” he asks, the duvet slipping just a little further down his upper half, baring more of his chest to you. “Please. I don’t want to be-…”

You swallow, waiting. The cogs in his inebriated brain are surely rotating at a few hundred miles a minute, his eyes almost desperate. Certainly glossy. Absolutely breath-taking.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Your already fragile resolve snaps under the pressure of his words and you’re moving towards his bed before you can stop yourself. 

“I don’t have anything to sleep in,” you say, offering him one last out if he wants it, but Seokmin just shrugs and peels the duvet back for you to slip in beside him.

“Don’t care,” he mumbles, and you gesture for him to look away so, at the very least, you can shimmy out of his sweatpants. He does, and you do — a few seconds later, with the garment in question folded neatly on the floor by his bed, you’re pulling the sheets over your legs and burying down against his cushions.

His breathing matches yours inhale for exhale and the more you let yourself think about this, the worse you feel even though maybe you shouldn’t. How many times have you drunkenly shared Seokmin’s bed, or how many times has he shared yours? This isn’t new. Even sober, you’ve been curling up together on the couch to watch movies and sleeping with your heads in each other's laps for years. There’s no reason for the guilt that’s burrowing its way deep into your brain, but you can’t seem to get rid of it, no matter how hard you try.

“Y/n?” he asks after a few minutes of you lying stiff as a pair of boards, a few inches of cold mattress between your wide awake selves, both of you staring up at the ceiling. You hum an acknowledgement, and he clears his throat. “Can I hug you?”

Your heart does something you’re a little bit afraid of, but you nod in the dark anyway, before you realise he can’t really see you now all the lights are off.

“Drink some water first,” you tell him lightly. “Then you can.”

There’s something undeniably nerve-wracking about the sound of him obediently swallowing a few mouthfuls from the glass you brought him earlier, even more-so in the way he sets it back down on his dresser. The bed rustles a little as he moves towards you, the sheets shifting over your bare legs, and then he’s got an arm slung over your waist, his head is on the very edge of his pillow, right next to your own… he slides a leg over one of yours, slotting it between your calves, and before you know it, you’re completely wrapped up in him.

He’s warm, and soft, and his fingertips gently soothe circles into your waist where they’ve slipped just underneath the hem of the sweatshirt you’re still wearing. You hum gently, moving your arm so that it snakes beneath his neck, curling up to wrap around his shoulders. This close, you can smell the cologne he will have put on before meeting his date. It makes you dizzy, slows down the neurons firing away in your brain. You wonder what’s going through his own head — what he’s thinking about, being curled up against your side like this. Does he recognise the slight stuttering in your breathing? How cold you are in contrast to him? Will he even remember this, in the morning? Or will you just wake up on opposite sides of the bed tomorrow, all this just a weird, foggy memory in the dark?

His head burrows slightly closer to you and all of a sudden, you can feel him breathing. Every exhale fans against your neck, right where it feels sweetest; Seokmin breathes through his nose when he’s sober, but through his lips when he’s drunk. You’ve never noticed before. It’s maddening. 

“Comfy?” you ask, your voice dry and unsure, and he wriggles a little with a nod to affirm that yes, he is. Something about that makes your cheeks go hot.

“Always sleep better with you,” he murmurs, and your face grows even warmer. You tell yourself he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just drunk. It doesn’t help.

“Then sleep,” you say as his hand moves just slightly further up beneath the hoodie, the tips of his fingers gently tickling your lowest rib. You have to fight back a whine. “I’m here. You can sleep.”

“Thank you, y/n,” he breathes, and you turn your head: now your eyes have adjusted to the low light, you can sort of make out his features, so very close to you. This proves to be a mistake almost instantly, but you can’t look away. His eyes are closed now; you’re glad. He looks too sweet. Too peaceful.

“What for?”

“Everything.”

“Seokmin…”

“No, I mean — everything.”

You move your hand up slightly, fingers playing with the strands of his hair at the top of his neck, and he whimpers softly at the touch. You freeze, and he nuzzles back against your hand to beg you to keep going, so you do.

“You can’t thank me for everything,” you tease him, and he chuckles breathlessly, his palm now laying flat across your rib cage, curling around your side. Holding you. Claiming you, just for now.

“Can,” he protests, and you shake your head. 

“Nuh-uh. Against the rules.”

“What rules?”

“My rules.”

“I didn’t know you had rules.”

“I’ve got hundreds,” you tease, threading your fingers through his strands and gently massaging his scalp. Another whine from him, but you don’t stop. Especially not when he hugs you closer, arm and leg both tightening around you.

“Hundreds?”

“Mhm. Maybe even thousands.”

“Well. Fuck.”

You breathe a laugh at him, and he laughs back; within a few seconds, you’ve both dissolved into giggles, and Seokmin has squirmed even closer until he’s half-covering you, actively chortling into your covered collarbone.

“You’re s’posed to be getting to sleep,” you sigh as his own laughter picks back up following a few seconds of deep breathing and quiet.

“I can’t!” He says. You can feel the pout in his own voice, even with his face hidden. When did he end up practically on top of you? When did your arm slip down to around his waist? 

“You have to. You’re gonna feel so shitty tomorrow if you don’t.”

“I know. M’probably gonna feel shitty anyway, though.”

“Come on. Close your eyes. Count back from a hundred. You can do it.”

It falls silent again, and you delusionally tell yourself that maybe it’s working. Until…

“Can you lie on your side?” He asks, and you sigh dramatically but nod anyway: as he peels himself off you, you roll over, facing the wall in the foetal position. He’s right back against you in a blink though, legs tucked up behind yours, trying to find your hand under the quilt.

“S’this okay?” He asks as he accidentally brushes your thigh in his search, fingers lacing through your own when he finally succeeds. Your now joined hands work their way into the hoodie’s front pocket, and everything starts buzzing when he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Y-yeah,” you swallow. “S’good.”

“Good,” he mumbles. A few deep breaths later, his voice rumbles against your earlobe again. “You looked so pretty for me tonight, y/n. Dressed up in my clothes — you’re so pretty.”

“Go to sleep,” you whimper, grateful at least that at this angle that he doesn’t see how your face scrunches up, how wide your smile is, how ridiculously good he makes you feel.

Euphoria. This is euphoria; you never want it to end.

“Count for me,” he asks, dropping his head down so his brows rest against your back, now. So you do.

“A hundred… ninety nine… ninety eight… ninety seven…”

His breathing is slow and his grip on your hand is slack by the time you reach eighty three. You doze off too, not very far behind.

thank u for reading all the way to the end!! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all always appreciated<3

[zerobaselove]

brain freeze | sung hanbin

pairing: frozen yogurt worker! hanbin x regular customer! reader

genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers ?? kinda ??

word count: 5067

warnings: none i don't think! lowercase intended, not proofread, or even read or written in one sitting truthfully

notes: thank u to tiff for convincing me to write this after our zb1 as part time workers conversation, it's honestly rlly rough but i like the concept so :]] i hope u guys like it,, especially since ive been mia </3

"welcome to cosmic swirls! our frozen yogurt is over on that wall there and the toppings are just to the right! you can come up here when you're all ready and i can ring you up!"

the cheerful boy at the front counter beamed at you as you walked through the front door of the new frozen yogurt shop in town, gesturing to the other side of the store. you gave him a smile and a small thank you as you followed the bright-coloured walls towards the frozen yogurt. after a long day at work, you couldn't help but give in to the temptation of trying the new sweet treats just across the street from your work.

the shop was lined with bright purple and blue paint and star decals, a wall filled with every topping you can imagine, and the plethora of flavours of frozen yogurt that lined where you stood. there was a faint hum of whatever tune was playing on the radio, and you could faintly hear the cute worker shuffling around at the counter. you honestly weren't expecting it to be so empty, but how many people were getting frozen yogurt on a thursday night, right?

"hmm," you wondered aloud, browsing the options in front of you, unable to decide on just one.

"i recommend the cotton candy!" the cute boy chimed up, watching as you admired the machines in front of you. "ooh, i like the sound of that," you smiled, grabbing a cup and filling it with the frozen dessert. you added a few simple toppings before walking over to the counter where the boy stood.

after ringing you up and paying for your treat, the boy, who you've noticed is named hanbin, judging by his name tag, speaks up. "hope you like my recommendation!" a wide smile crosses his face, gesturing to the pink and blue swirled frozen yogurt in your cup.

"and if i don't?" you teased, giving hanbin a mischievous grin. "well," he pondered for a moment, "then i owe you a new one! but i bet you'll love it, scouts honour!"

you let out a laugh at the boy with his hand up in the air, "well i'll keep you updated." you laughed again as you went to go sit down, scrolling through your phone as you tried the frozen yogurt, pleasantly surprised at how good it was. i guess that's why everyone's been talking about this place lately, you thought to yourself.

finishing up your treat, you threw out the cup and walked back to the counter, getting hanbin's attention. "so?" he started, a smile on his face as he waited to hear your review.

"hated it!" you said, joking around with the boy as a laugh passed your lips. he feigned offence, a hand coming to his chest dramatically as if you had personally struck his heart. "no way!! how could you!" the two of you burst into a fit of giggles, drawing the attention of the lone couple in the corner before covering your mouth with your palm.

calming down a bit, you continued, "guess i'll just have to come back and try a different flavour next time!" you insisted.

"i guess you will!"

and you did. in the coming weeks, you found yourself returning to the shop more times than you could consider normal. every time, trying a new flavour than before. had to give it all a shot right? even if some nights left you with a cup of half-eaten frozen yogurt or more toppings than dessert in an attempt to drown out a flavour you weren't particularly fond of.

what you had grown quite fond of though was the boy behind the counter. hanbin. over the weeks you had gotten to know hanbin a bit; often you were there late, one of the last people there at that time, which gave you two time to talk and get to know each other a bit.

what you had learned was that hanbin was a dancer outside of his daily employment. most of the time his paychecks went to different classes with teachers he admired. something about "wanting to learn from the best." you also learned that he had a small hamster plushie that he kept behind the counter with him, even got him a miniature apron that you could only imagine he stole from a small doll. but sometimes kids would come in and he'd show off his little friend, loving to watch the way they got excited over the worker hamster. it was cute. he was cute.

and with that thought clouding your brain like an all too familiar brain freeze, you walked through the familiar front doors yet again, the jingle of the bell signaling your entrance had become something you were sure you'd hear in your dreams.

"on time as usual," hanbin smiled at your familiar face, "what flavour are you going to try today?" he questioned as he watched you saunter over to the machines, grabbing a cup before staring them down. "is the coconut any good?"

"never tried it honestly," he said simply, leaving you shocked. it was the first flavour so far that he hasn't had, "heard it's good though! you'll have to let me know!" his usual smile plastered on his face, you once again end up mirroring his expression, "guess i'll have to get it then!"

you found yourself at what you considered your usual table now, the one closest to the front counter. you like to tell yourself it was because it was convenient but you know it was just so it was easier to talk to hanbin. but that wasn't a crime!

a few minutes had passed and hanbin found himself sitting with you at the table, a now regular occurrence when there were no other customers around. "how is it?"

you plunged the spoon into the dessert, holding it up to the boy, "give it a try," you hadn't really thought about the intimacy of your offer, but hanbin didn't give it a second thought as he took a bite off of your spoon, letting out a hum of approval. "not too bad." he said, covering his mouth.

like many other nights, the two of you let your conversations run freely, only stopping to glance at the time on your phone; 11:05.

"shit hanbin," you quickly stood up, grabbing your phone and cup, "i didn't mean to keep you past close. i'm sure you wanna go home after a long day." you can't help but shake your head at your innate ability to get lost in time.

he let out a chuckle at your sudden urgency, "hey no rush, i honestly like the company, it gets pretty lonely here at night." his reassurance helped calm your guilt for a moment, "plus there's not much left to do to close up." he stacked the final chairs, the ones you had been sat at, as he continued. "but it's getting late, you should be heading home, no?" he sounded almost worried at you being out so late, and your heart swelled a bit at the thought.

"yeah i probably should head back," you let out a small sigh at the idea of ending the night with hanbin, "sorry again hanbin, and please get home safe." you gave him a sheepish smile as you turned on your heel to leave.

"make sure you get home safe too! what would i do without my favourite customer?" he joked, not knowing the way your heart skipped a beat at being called his favourite.

you were running out of excuses, or rather flavours; reasons to be at the frozen yogurt shop as much as you were.

"what are you gonna do when there's nothing new to try?" hanbin laughed, watching as you had narrowed it down to your last few choices of untouched flavours.

"die, maybe." you say nonchalantly, earning a laugh from the boy at the counter, finding your dramatics endearing. "you could just try every combination of flavours with every topping." hanbin suggested, a smug smile on his face.

you laughed, shaking your head, "hanbin that would take forever."

"and?" he questioned, "just means more time with me!"

he did have a good point, as silly as the idea sounded. you'd honestly do anything to give you an excuse to hang out with the boy more. except actually asking him out, of course.

what you didn't know was that despite the jokes, hanbin was honestly hoping you would take the idea somewhat seriously. one or two more guaranteed visits did not sound like enough time for him to finally gain the courage to ask you out, or even to get your number, so he felt like he needed all the time he could get.

you weren't the only one who had grown fond of your frequent visits. you had quickly become the thing hanbin looked forward to every week. it had only been a few months of small chats across counters and plastic tables, but hanbin could've sworn he was falling for you, at least in some capacity.

so instead of either of you asking the other out, you just sat together again like every visit, giggling and talking about anything and everything, sometimes even sharing bites of your dessert as you rambled on about an interaction at work that day. it was the least you could give him for listening to your rants.

instead of leaving when you were finished, you took it upon yourself to help with stacking the chairs, hopefully as an apology for always keeping the boy so late.

he couldn't help but smile at the gesture, "you don't have to do that y/n, i'm the one who works here not you." you simply smiled and shook your head, "but it gives me an excuse to stay here with you longer," you finished stacking the last table on your side of the room, "plus it's the least i could do."

"well i appreciate it," a shy smile spread across his face, trying to mentally stop a blush from rising to his cheeks at the thought of you wanted to stay with him longer. god i need to hurry up and ask them out. the thought echoed in his brain as he grabbed the key to lock up, walking with you to the door in a comfortable silence.

you both said your goodbyes, waving as you split off in opposite directions. you spent your walk home that night thinking more about the boy than usual, and as if connected telepathically, hanbin happened to have you at the forefront of his mind the whole drive home. not that he was complaining.

this was the time, hanbin reassured himself. this was when he'd finally ask you out, give you his number, get your number. something. anything. but as he watched the hands on the clock move at an agonizing pace, seemingly taunting him, he couldn't help but second guess himself.

in the midst of his self doubt, the familiar chime rang through the quiet store, right on schedule. and in you walked, dressed up nicer than usual. not that you didn't look great all the time to hanbin, but you looked particularly nice this evening.

"bad news hanbin," you said, walking up to the counter, "i have to take it to go tonight," your lips pressed into a frown. he looked quizzically at you, urging you to continue. "heading to my brother's graduation." you continued simply.

"and yet you still came in for frozen yogurt?" he questioned, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "well i didn't wanna miss my flavour this week," you exclaimed, as if making a very obvious point, "plus i don't think i could go a whole extra week without seeing you, c'mon now."

you kept talking as you filled up your first cup, one of the last flavours that you hadn't tried. setting it on the counter, you started grabbing the second, taking the opportunity to surprise your brother with some of the frozen yogurt you had been raving about.

tapping your card on the machine, and saying your farewell, you turned to leave the small shop and head on your way. but not before hanbin could stop you.

"wait!" he called out, quickly jogging up to you with a napkin in hand, "you might need this, for the road," a hand came to the back of his neck, rubbing sheepishly. "and uh, one minute." he quickly rushed to the back of the shop, where you assumed he kept his things, reemerging from the back door with a jacket in hand. "it's cold out there, staying warm is important, especially if you're eating frozen yogurt."

he lightly placed the jacket around your shoulders, letting the fabric drape along your frame. he took a second to catch his breath, partially from the running back and forth, and partially from the sight of you in his jacket. he quickly tried to peel his eyes off of you before his thoughts got the best of him, and luckily, that led hanbin to miss the way your cheeks heated up at the gesture.

after a moment of silence and thumping hearts, you said your goodbyes once more, accompanied by a thank you from yourself as you headed out the door.

as opposed to the usual, this time you found yourself sitting with your brother indulging in the sweet treat. "since when did you wear jackets like that?" your brother inquired, glancing over the clearly oversized mens jacket. you tried to shrug the question off, attempting to act nonchalant, "since today i guess." you brought the spoon up to your mouth to take another bite, avoiding any further answers.

"y/n, how dumb do you think i am." your brother chuckled, shaking his head at your poor attempt at an excuse, "who gave it to you?"

you quickly gave up on the facade, knowing you couldn't lie to your brother. "just the guy from the frozen yogurt place," your voice trailed off as you watched a shit-eating grin spread across his face. "i've never heard of a frozen yogurt place lending jackets to customers, or any business really." he said sarcastically, laughing at the way your face quickly heated in embarrassment, only stopping to continue teasing you.

"so do you like this boy?" he asked, as if your reaction hadn't given it away. you gave a shy nod as you hummed a confirmation, not only admitting it to your brother but also to yourself. "well as long as he treats you right, i approve, otherwise he better watch out, i bet i could take him anyways."

you couldn't help but laugh at your brothers weak attempt at intimidation, even getting a bit of frozen yogurt on your face in the process, causing your brother to erupt into laughter himself. "hold on," you reached into the pocket of the jacket, pulling out the napkin hanbin had given you as you were leaving, only now you had noticed something you didn't earlier.

there was something scribbled on the napkin. a number. hanbin's number, next to a small scrawled note reading, "in case you ever want to get some real food." a small heart outlined beside the message, even a small tear where the pen had ripped through the thin napkin.

you couldn't wait to get home that night. as soon as you had gotten into the comfort of your room, you grabbed the napkin again, quickly unlocking your phone and typing in the series of numbers messily written across.

"hey, it's y/n ^^" you typed simply, hoping the emoticon didn't feel too awkward as you couldn't stop your heart from beating out of your chest. the feeling of unstoppable palpitations only amplified as you watched the typing bubble quickly appear on the other side of the screen.

the seconds seemed to slow as you watched the typing bubble disappear, only to reappear once more before a message rang through.

"y/n! how'd your brother's graduation go??"

you quickly typed back a reply, giving a positive recollection of the night, selectively withholding the small confessional about the boy you were texting.

you spent your night getting ready for bed at a slower pace than usual, every minute or so your phone would ding with a message from hanbin, and you couldn't stop yourself from reaching for your phone to respond.

before you knew it, hours had gone by and through blurry eyes you faintly read out the time; 3:47am.

"hanbin,," you typed, pressing send on the short message for suspense, "did you realize it's nearly 4am"

his reply came faster than you thought, "shit don't you have to work in the morning?" you thought it was endearing that despite you both being awake, he was still worried about your wellbeing and rest.

after saying goodnight and tucking yourself into bed for the last time that night, you let yourself drift off, thoughts of the boy still swirling around your brain as you fell into a deep sleep.

after the longest friday of your life, you finally got to return to the comfort of your home, and you couldn't have been more thankful. checking the time and noticing that hanbin would still be at work, you decided to do a bit of self-care. as silly as it sounded, you just wanted the time to pass so you could talk to him more.

a nice hot shower and face mask later, and your phone dinged with a message.

"guess who's off for the weekend!" hanbin's name and photo popped up accompanying the message.

"hmm, me?" you typed, laughing as you pressed send, getting an excited "no way!! you too??" in response.

you spent the rest of your evening texting the boy while you listened to the white noise of whatever tv show was quietly playing in the background. that was until, hanbin asked if you wanted to call.

with an overly eager yes, you watched his name pop up again, this time your finger hovering over the answer button as you heard your ringtone blare through your speakers.

"hanbin~" you dragged out, nearly hearing the boy smile on the other end. "y/n~" he mirrored, a small chuckle escaping his lips after.

the conversations carried on into the deep hours of the night, yawns interrupting your thoughts as the time went on, leading hanbin's voice to become laced with concern.

"are you getting sleepy?" he questioned softly, his tone almost putting you to sleep in itself. you responded with a faint hum and nod, even if he couldn't see you. "go to sleep, love. don't let me keep you up." he muttered, keeping quiet as to not wake you.

in your tired state you couldn't quite process the pet name, but you were sure it would plague your mind once you were more awake.

you attempted to mutter back an argument, but before you knew it, your eyes had fallen shut to the sound of hanbin mumbling about something you couldn't quite make out.

hanbin thought it was cute; your faint snores and soft rustling in your sleeping state. he stayed on the call for a while before hanging up, leaving you to sleep peacefully. deciding it was time to head to bed himself, he got comfy in bed and opened your messages for one last time that night.

"sleep tight <3 didn't wanna accidentally wake you so i hung up." he pressed send, hovering over the keyboard for one last message, one that left his heart pounding through his chest. "and uh," he typed out, "if you're free today, maybe we can go to that diner downtown, or anywhere really, if you'd like... okay goodnight!"

he breathed out a sigh as he sent the last message, worry and self doubt taking over his mind as he considered the possibility of you rejecting his offer. but it was too late now, the message had been sent and now all he had to do was wait.

what would usually be a peaceful morning was anything but; as soon as the morning fog in your mind cleared, the night before had flooded back to you in a flash, embarrassment taking over as you failed to remember hanging up or saying goodnight before falling asleep. the only thing your brain could remember was a faint "go to sleep love" echoing over and over in hanbin's soft voice, driving you to near insanity as you opened your phone to a few notifications from the boy himself.

it only took a moment of skimming past the words on your screen before you were eagerly typing a response, accepting the offer to go out followed by a brief apology for falling asleep.

instead of a typing bubble appearing on your screen, it was a call answer screen, which you answered without much thought.

"morning~" you singsonged, hearing hanbin shuffle before responding with a raspy, sleep ridden "good morning y/n."

you swore your head was spinning at the new tone from hanbin, an unexpected change from his usual cheery voice. you took a moment to collect your thoughts before speaking up again, "d'you just wake up?"

he hummed in response, hearing his run this hand through is hair. "then why'd you call me silly?" you questioned, wondering if he had considered just typing a response when he was more awake.

"wanted to hear your voice," he sleepily mumbled, not quite aware of his own confession until it had already left his lips. you muttered a small "oh," taking another moment to process what the boy had said before attempting to come up with a response. you stuttered out a small chuckle and a teasing "well here i am" before switching the subject.

once hanbin was a bit more awake, the two of you confirmed your plans for the day; deciding that hanbin would come pick you up around 5pm and you'd go head out to a diner for some food. "it's a date," you exclaimed, your smile audible through the phone, causing hanbin to smile in return, unknown to you.

"sounds perfect," he hummed, "see you then y/n."

anxiously checking the clock for the nth time, you read the seemingly unchanging time; 4:55pm. you couldn't help but fiddle with the hem of your jacket, or rather hanbin's jacket, in an attempt to calm your nerves. the faint lingering smell of his cologne on the jacket helped ease your mind as you awaited the boy's arrival.

a few minutes had passed while you were lost in your thoughts, only pulled out from your endless what if's by a knock at the door.

you opened the door you had been pacing in front of, leaving the boy to come into view. what you hadn't considered until this moment in time was that this was your first time seeing him out of the bright-coloured uniform and apron he usually adorned at the frozen yogurt shop. instead he sported a loose fitting white t-shirt, a light wash jean jacket atop his shoulders. he looked good.

"oh hi," you managed to stutter out, trying to pick up your jaw that was hanging open. "you look nice," you muttered, eyes trailing over his frame, stopping for a moment on a tattoo that hadn't been visible in his usual attire. a delicate celestial scene placed between his collarbones, lying between the chains of a dainty rose necklace that lay on his chest.

he let out a shy chuckle at the compliment, taking notice of your wandering eyes, "hey that's my line!" he said, almost flustered as he looked over your figure hiding in his jacket yet again. "but really, you look great y/n," he smiled, "you might look better in that jacket than i do."

you simply scoffed in denial and shook your head before the boy spoke up once more, "oh, these are for you," he gestured to the flowers you only just now realized were in his hands. a small bouquet decorated with carnations and roses, small blooms of baby's breath scattered between.

a small gasp escaped your chest as you admired the bright flowers, "they're beautiful hanbin, thank you, you really didn't have to." he simply smiled, muttering a "but i wanted to," which caused you to blush as you welcomed him inside for a moment.

"let me just put these in a vase and we can go!"

hanbin took a moment to admire your cozy home. the walls adorned with simplistic art and photography, small succulents littering every surface you could find room. it felt so unapologetically you, and he loved it.

"your place is gorgeous," he smiled, his eyes, and subsequently his legs, following behind you into the kitchen. you muttered a small thank you, chatting briefly about a recent piece you had thrifted for the quaint apartment, and hanbin couldn't help but smile at the joy radiating off of you as you talked about something you loved.

once your new flowers were safe in a vase on your counter, you followed hanbin out to his car; the boy even opening your door for you. "what a gentleman," you chuckled, smiling and speaking a soft "thank you" as you looked around the car. it was nice; the air freshener smelled like citrus and sitting snug in the cupholder was none other than the small hamster plush you had seen at the frozen yogurt shop, no longer adorning the small apron.

"so you really do take him everywhere," you let out a small giggle at the boy's surprisingly adorable antics as he got into the drivers seat. he only smiled sheepishly in return, "well of course, i can't leave him at work that wouldn't be fair, now would it?"

the two of you burst into a fit of giggles as the car started up, the radio beginning to quietly play some r&b tune; you even found yourself bopping your head to the unfamiliar song as you and hanbin made easy conversation, as usual. the only difference this time was your eyes were trained on hanbin's hand on the wheel, the other resting on the console between the two of you.

you couldn't lie; watching hanbin drive so relaxed, his gaze shifting from the road ahead to you periodically. it was nearly enough to take your breath away. it was hard to believe that months ago, he was just the guy who worked at the frozen yogurt shop you decided to stop in to check out, and now you were here, in his car, on your way to what you hoped was considered a real date.

it wasn't long before the two of you had arrived to the diner; hanbin being the gentleman he was, nearly raced out of the car just to come open your door for you. it was endearing.

"finally some sustenance," you laughed, eyeing up the plate of food in front of you, "can't live off of frozen yogurt forever."

"i always wondered why you're in there so often," hanbin let his thoughts slip his mind and past his mouth, "not that i'm judging though," he quickly continued, " just seems like you'd get sick of frozen yogurt by now"

he was partially right; there was only so much frozen yogurt one person could handle. only so many brain freezes one could endure. "honestly," you popped a fry in your mouth, "i kind of am, that's why i always get a different flavour," you said matter-of-factly, "but it helps that you're there," your voice trailed off at the end, almost embarrassed by the words leaving your mouth.

hanbin seemed rather happy with your answer, a smug smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, "are you saying you've been coming to the shop to see me?" the confident tone in his voice made your brain spin, watching as he proudly took a sip of his milkshake as he awaited whatever response you could come up with.

you nervously bit your lip as you tried your hardest to form a coherent thought, "well i mean," you paused, "look at you, i'm sure you're a huge draw in for customers," you pushed out a small laugh to prevent yourself from humiliating yourself in front of the boy.

"y/n," hanbin smiled again, somehow more smug than before despite his cheeks now flushing a light shade of pink, "are you calling me attractive?"

the accusation nearly made you choke on your drink as you realized the implication of your earlier statement; and sure, it's what you were thinking, but it's not exactly what you meant to say.

deciding there was no going back now, you simply muttered a quiet agreement, hoping that would be enough for the boy. it wasn't.

"sorry what's that? i couldn't hear you," he teased, enjoying the way your ears turned bright red under the dim overhead lights. this time you lightly cleared your throat, repeating the confirmation at an audible volume. "god you're cute," hanbin muttered, lightly shaking his head at your endearing antics.

you let out a laugh for the nth time that night, "is that what you tell all your customers hanbin? that's quite the way to get sales." it was your turn to tease the boy, wanting to see just how serious he was about it all.

"only the customers i have a crush on," he said plainly, smiling as he watched your jaw drop at the blatant confession. it was as if your brain had effectively shut down, or maybe short circuited. some other form of brain freeze, perhaps? you couldn't decide as it took what felt like forever for your brain to come up with a quip.

trying to keep the light atmosphere, you continued joking around, "that's not going to get you employee of the month, you know."

hanbin only reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours; and you could've sworn your skin was on fire at the contact. looking up at you with a sincere look in his eyes, you struggled to keep eye contact with the pretty boy sitting in front of you. it felt like you were melting under his gaze.

"well i have other priorities now," he breathed out, his voice quieter than before, "and number one on the list is making you mine."

[painfully-unoriginal]

ive seen so many great headcanons for how wolf & snake met that i rly rly love but one that i feel doesnt get enough love in general is their actual meeting from the books, so i decided to recreate the scenes tht revolve around that :^)

RLY LONG WINDED AND DUMB THOUGHTS UNDER THE CUT !!

from a narrative perspective i love the idea that wolf was the one who taught snake to be “scary” or “bad” in the first place.

snake was alone, afraid, and hated, and wolf came out of the blue to save him and teach him how to stand up for himself. this would give a lot more weight to snake’s “the world is a place where some people are scared and others are scary” line, and to the deep-seeded trust and confidence he places in wolf, and A LOT more weight to the crushing feeling of betrayal that follows when he discovers that wolf truly wants to change. that wolf HAD changed.

because, at this point, snake truly believed to his core that he was genuinely a “scary, good for nothing monster,” and he saw wolf as the only person who TRULY understood him.

and now, not only is wolf (in snake’s eyes) throwing away the entire thing their relationship was founded on, but he is now becoming something that snake doesnt see himself as worthy of, or even capable of reaching.

an entire LIFETIME friendship, built on the idea that it was them against the entire world, only to be completely upturned by wolf pulling a 180 seemingly out of the blue.

to me, that’s a very very strong narrative and foundation for their central conflict, as well as snake’s own internal conflict; adding to his own self doubt, self loathing, and general distrust.

SO YEAH i just wanted to recreate a couple scenes from the books that revolve around their meeting in some way because i like it a lot :^) and i know why it doesnt make sense in the movie’s canon but...... suspend ur disbelief for me just a bit lmfao

(also, if u havent read the books, the context for the last one is that snake was having a flashback/nightmare of being hit with a rake by frightened strangers when he was a child. i didnt rly feel like drawing that so it looks a little disjointed from the other comics but that’s what’s happening!)

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

ofmd s2e1 rewatch where i pause to jot down my thoughts and other random shit

not quite a reaction post bc i've already watched the whole thing. not quite a liveblog bc it's one post and it's probably gonna take me a full hour to get through a 28 minute episode at the rate of pausing and typing i'll be doing

s2e1, s2e2, s2e3, s2e4, s2e5, s2e6, s2e7, s2e8

anyway, pirate time:

i love how much fun con is having choking on his own blood

dream!stede's extremely teary face right before he takes off running down the beach is doing psychic damage to me

also dream!stede's stupid ridiculous outfit with all the long ribbons and shit...

ed and stede make contact so hard shjfkhsgjkfd the loud OUGH sounds from both of them

also the return of ed's old beard! i didnt expect to see her at all this season, so that was a surprise.

"babe" "love" im tearing out my own hair

stede has yet to learn that ripping ass near your beloved can be a love language

stede is a terrible fucking roommate just deal with wee john's gas in silence like the rest of them. goddamn.

WHO HAS THE OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH TRAMP STAMP. WHO IS THAT.

i like when the background OST is familiar to me lol the little strings when stede starts his letter throwing me back to s1

olu: that–that's the swede the swede: Im the swede roach: he's single ;) me: *pissing my pants with laughter*

also the direct confirmation that the swede literally doesn't have a name. incredible

shjkfhdhfkj the crew encouraging him. stede's "it's okay" and roach "be brave" im CRYINGGGGG

stede doing customer service is something that can be so personal. "reservation?" "eat my fuckin' shit" "right! walk-ins, then" average restaurant experience

the random background guy saying "my favorite hand!" abt getting stabbed in the hand is making me giggle. i love the humor on this show

why does stede have so much shoulder movement going on when he's walking through the bar. whore behavior.

"this is for mom!" sorry but i want to know more abt whatever's going on there

also the purple mohawk. dope.

buttons is so distressed LET HIM RETURN TO THE SEA THESE CONDITIONS ARE INHUMANE

"i know the odds of you finding this are slim but so were the odds of us finding each other in the first place" IM RIPPING OFF MY OWN SKIN

also stede's lil sad hopeful smile after throwing the bottle... i care him

i love how they make this wedding fucking suck so we don't feel too bad abt the whole massacre thing. "the natural condition of humanity is base and vile. it is the obligation of people of standing, such as yourselves, to elevate the common human rabble through the sacred transaction of matrimony" if i was at a wedding and the officiant said that i'd also start killing people probably

yayy murder montage :)

FANG BREAKING THAT GUY'S SPINE OVER HIS KNEE

the whole cake scene is so fucking funny im sorry. i love u jim drawing the line at attacking a shitty wedding. i love u archie who wasn't here for the good old days so you dont really see a problem with how things are. i love u frenchie with ur box in ur brain that u never open again. i love u fang it's gonna get better i swear. i love u frenchie again bc u just took the cake right out of fang's hands while he was fucking sobbing hfjhgkjhdkjkf

I MISS IVAN JUSTICE FOR IVAN. wish they could've said he'd just fucked off somewhere instead of dying but i think that would've raised the question of why hasn't anyone else fucked off since they all seem so miserable

very relieved that stede isn't taking the racist/antisemitic caricature drawings of ed to make like a boyfriend scrapbook like some people were theorizing. would've been overkill if after episode 4 from last season stede still didn't realize that ed hated these sorts of depictions of him.

INTERESTING DETAIL THO the background music in this scene is "a pirate's life" aka the song frenchie sang in the pilot. it's an instrumental version obviously but yeah i recognize that tune

also more cool background ppl with dyed hair man i love this show

zheng yi sao flirting with olu is so good. he deserves it.

how nice of ed to offer his drugs to the crew. sharing is caring.

also it's so funny to me that the thing izzy is tormented by is ed saying "you can't do the job, someone else will" the toe thing's happened three times and apparently that was fine but the thing the show edits together right before izzy breaks down into the most pathetic aheemheem whimpers isn't any of that it's ed threatening to fire him

also they cut ed throwing knives at izzy!! what the hell.

releasing the clip of izzy crying kinda ruined it for me when it came time to watch it in the show bc i watched it several times since it dropped and now seeing it in context i was like "ok i've seen this already fast forward." i mean i didnt fast forward through it but i did kinda zone out bc i've seen this bit already. this post kinda sums up my thoughts on it

"trifling ingrate plan" dshkjfshgdskhfjkhgkjh

"SEMI-CLEAN WATER"

JACKIE CALLING THE SWEDE "BOO CAKES"

"i know that guy we had breakfast together!" "you'll be having a lot of breakfasts-es together" "oh, okay" i fucking love this whole dynamic like i can tell they're writing the swede out of most of the episodes for budget reasons (sorry nat faxon) but by god do they give him such an excellent fucking send-off. can't wait to see him again when he's in his trophy husband number 20 era

roach is upset abt not being able to cook, buttons is tied up so he doesn't go running back to the sea (i assume). stede you are not giving your crew the environment they need to thrive.

olu being an optimist :)

buttons opens his mouth to drink the rain and in the background u can see roach yanking the rope around buttons back fhdjskgfjhgkjfh STEDE YOUR SEA WITCH CANNOT THRIVE IN THESE CONDITIONS

stede tries to make things sound good in his bottle letters to ed but out loud he says his actual insecurities... it's so fucking tasty tho that he thinks ed could be doing better without him and THAT'S why he's been stalling so much. not afraid for his life even a little bit he just assumes he's not wanted. brb i have to cry now

"im sorry if that's a little bit creepy" "you are creepy" in this scene where they're soaked from the rain. ofmd said this prince ricky guys is creepy and wet.

stede's fucking FACE when prince ricky says "you're my hero" his fucking "clearly you dont own an air fryer" face I CANT STAND HIMMMMMM (affectionate)

prince ricky "these rubes" "men of our standing" yeah i cant fucking stand this guy (derogatory) i love how he's barely even in this episode

stede's face when the swede is talking abt how happy he is with jackie... my man believes in love so much im gonna cry

also in what fucking way does the swede owe them a life debt. roach and buttons literally tried to eat him

izzy's "you know me better than anyone knows me and i daresay the same about you" this is literally so false i dont even know where to begin. izzy in e6 being like "if i didnt know any better i'd think maybe ed might possibly maybe be actually enjoying bonnet's company" while ed and stede are giggling and making each other friendship bracelets. this guy doesn't know ed at all.

also i cant get over how izzy wont make eye contact he's like staring blankly into the middle distance delivering these lines so flatly until he goes to say "i have... love for you" and in that moment he looks like he'd rather ed were feeding him more toes.

"im worried about you, we all are" not gonna lie my dude you've had a weird way of showing it thus far. where was all that worry when you told him he was better off dead than wearing a robe and singing songs?? where was that fucking love then?

and NOW izzy wants to talk it through. izzy literally voted to make blackbeard great again and now he wants to give open communication a chance???

lmao there's a limit to how many characters can be in a bulleted list so here's fucking. part two. on the same post:

ed asking everyone if the vibe is poisonous and fang cant stop crying and ed's face is just like "eh good enough" im fdhksgfkjtdkh

anyway ed with a loaded gun under his chin talking to himself is hurting me so fucking much actually. ed my beloved babygirl for whom i would die. this poor traumatized man. yes he is making this workplace toxic as hell but god. GOD. im gonna throw up.

the way ed is so fucking casual about shooting izzy in the leg. just calm and jovial as he promotes frenchie to first mate. stepping over izzy all crumpled on the floor. everything about this is so fucking good. i mean it's horrible for ed and everyone around him but for me watching the show this shit is DELICIOUS. i love when the pirates get violent and unhinged i love when this shit gets fucked up. ed's mental state is so bad right now and it is causing me severe anguish but also it is so tasty. fuck.

anyway frenchie trying to turn down the promotion fhjkghdfjkhf

the cut to the swede performing the husbandly duties is INSANE. COMPLETE TONAL WHIPLASH. I LOVE THIS SHOW.

"fuck those hammies up!" spanish jackie i love you

black pete why are you so fucking loud AND WHY WOULD YOU JIX IT LIKE THAT???

why is prince ricky so small. he's like a full head shorter than stede. also this guy is insufferable i love how stede just fucking abandons him fhjkgdhkdfghkj

"the calf muscle is the most mysterious of alllll the muscles" what the FUCK does that even mean. oh swede i will miss you

NOSE REMOVAL FUCK YES. I LOVE THIS SHOW.

obsessed with the swede playing dumb. the dramatic gasp. "wow, so bad!" fhjsghdkjf

"aint you that soup bitch?" "im the money bitch" i love women.

sfdsjkh spanish jackie being into double-crossing. and slapping the swede's ass on the way out. i love this show

i love how zheng says "this much indigo is worth three times what i paid" while spanish jackie and the husbands are still like, right there. and they just don't hear that bit. incredible.

OUGH the back of jim's weird rope armor looks like a ribcage that's so cool

i love how jim is so fucking bad at telling this story. i love how the monkey's paw comes into it. i love fang asking them to do the voice. i love archie trying to hold back her laughter i love jim and fang giggling together I LOVE THIS SHOW

ed's fucking voice breaking through his whole convo with frenchie. im tearing out my own teeth

HEY DID YOU GUYS KNOW THEY HAVE POST-CREDITS SCENES IN THIS SEASON?????????? WHAT THE HELL

i take back what i said about jim being bad at telling this story their version is so much fucking better. squeaky voice "I pray to you, Dark Lord, to make me real flesh! I want to be real flesh!" IM FUCKING OBSESSED. JIM I WOULD DIE FOR YOU

[shoezuki]

Dya have any more headcanons for sampard?

Maybe ideas on how they fell for one another. Would you see it as an X fell first but Y fell harder or a flirting for fun but realising you've caught feelings?

Or have ya got an entirely different view on it! :D Oooooo. Do you perhaps have a timeline for how they traverse the "enemies" to friends to lovers stages.

Can you tell I love all your ideas and headcanons T-T

thankyou anon i am ghglg. im in love w u now. yes i have Many Ideas bout these two bastards like i have so many thoughts you cannot believe. like i have a post drafted where i write hcs when im bored and headin to class lkshglhg. heres some hcs

sampo falls in love first. very, very early in when he is new to the planet and is just drawing the attention of the silvermanes. It's not exactly some 'love at first sight' thing its more like the first time gep almost catches him sampo thinks 'oh he's cute' and a few times after that he's like 'wait im enjoying this. a lot.' and its downhill from there

whether sampo Realizes it is another thing tho. i can see him just enjoying the attention and thrill of evading the silvermanes and not realizing his disappointment when gepard isnt there is cuz hes infatuated w gepard.

but he Would realize it. at some point itd hit him like. why he enjoys the chase so much n lets himself Almost get caught. why hes memorized gep's schedule and where he patrols the most. and it hits him n hes like 'oh fuck. what the fuck. holy shit.... well anyways.'

(probably freaks out to seele over drinks but he's too incomprehensible through his tears n she has no clue what hes whining about)

Sampo flirts and teases gepard unabashedly, kisses grenades before throwing them into gep's arms, saying 'woah youre so strong geppie' while gep punches the wall behind him narrowly missing his face, leaves notes with lipstick marks on em at crime scenes, all that stuff.

but for sampo. it isnt supposed to actually Go anywhere. he knows he likes gepard more than he should and its kinda just to scratch that itch in his heart yknow.

sampo very much thinks that. gepard is the captain of the silvermanes, a wellknown and noble person in belobog, and sampo's a slimy secretive conman that just enjoys pushing the captains buttons. theres no hope for anything more so he might as well enjoy flustering the captain right?

gepard on the other hand. doesnt allow himself to really think of sampo as anything else but a criminal. it takes a long Long time for him to realize he even feels anythin for him

gepard does look forward to trying to bust sampo, though, in a sort of frustrated way. sometimes the front lines or patrols are so monotonous and sampo's tendency to appear whenever gep's bored out of his mind is impressive

he is insistant on arresting sampo and 'bringing him to justice' to an obsessive degree, though. he's not even typically assigned to investigating criminal cases but he has basically inserted himself into bein the lead investigator of any sampo related case now

(intelligence officers and detectives and other silvermane's are so used to it now. they could be investigating a house fire or a break in, find a note with lipstick marks on it and curly writing, and they all just sigh and call gepard.)

sometimes other worry that his insistence on arresting sampo and how dedicated to it is concerning. they ask why he hates sampo so much n he just says 'hes the most prolific criminal in belobog and needs to be apprehended'

(he cant say he hates him, though. for some reason. he cant figure out why he thinks about sampo so much. he just figures its to arrest him)

gep finds himself starting to relax when sampo sends him on wild goose chases n they both leave other guards in the dust. its probably not intentional, how sampo always seems to draw him away to somewhere quiet and secluded when his head is killing him or he's stressed or exhausted.

(its intentional)

sampo falls first, but gepard is absolutely the one who initiates.

i imagine it'd take... something for gepard to reconsider sampo and let himself think about sampo outside of his criminal record

during a chase out in the snow plains, just sampo laughing and taunting him as gep tries to hunt him down, they get bombarded by fragmentum monsters

sampo holds his own; he fights with a sort of viciousness gep has never seen from him. his bombs arent just smoke, but powerful explosives that shatter fragmentum. he's insanely fast and doesnt even break a sweat. but as soon as theyre all dead he pretends he's exhausted and that gep needs to carry him back to the city before giggling and vanishing.

gepard realizes that this whole time sampo has been holding back. he realizes that sampo could easily cut through the silvermanes, use his lethal bombs or easily outpace gepard and outrun him.

he starts thinking about other things sampo does; how natasha mentions he delivers medicine to him, how lynx sometimes talks about finding supplies and food in hidden ruins and obvious places around her camp, or the notes sampo leaves and how they sometimes give hidden hints about other criminal operations the silvermanes have been tryin to investigate.

he doesnt know what to make of it, what sampo wants or why he's doing this. the next time sampo sends him running through abandoned streets in belobog he slows down, realizes that sampo also slows to his pace so gepard keeps chasing him.

gepard asks point blank at some point, what in the hell sampo wants from him, why he's doing this. sampo doesnt know how to answer. just shrugs and says hes just trying to have some fun.

from then on gepard and sampo's 'chases' tend to... dissolve. sometimes gepard just sits down and takes a moment to forget about being the captain, to relax. Sampo acts like a skittish, stray cat who's ready to bolt until he eventually relaxes as sits by gepard too.

gepard collects all sampo's notes, all the fragments of his bombs with the hearts painted on metal shells, and keeps them as 'evidence' in his desk.

sampo pushes his luck constantly; as soon as gepard relaxes or gives him any room to get closer, he takes and takes as much as he can get.

gepard catches sampo, entirely on accident, when he's off duty. climbing out of a window or something. and sampo freezes but gepard just says 'hey i'm not working now, i can't arrest you.'

(they both know it's a lie. being out of uniform never stopped gepard before.)

sampo starts just appearing more and more around gepard when he's off duty, showing up walking alongside him like he's been there the whole time, or just 'passing by' when gep is in the florist's shop.

gepard leaves his window open. sampo takes the invitation and crawls in and strange hours when gepard cant sleep. he just sits on the couch or a chair or stands there like he is a foreign intruder. gepard just nods and makes him some tea.

when it would hit gepard, that he's in love with sampo and has been for a while, he'd just blurt it out. 'huh. i think ive fallen in love with you'. and sampo would erupt into flames and kiss him so hard his lips bruise

[cordial-imputresco]

One of the most aggravating things in the chonny jash fandom is the feminization and infantilization of heart. If you're my mutual or if we talk a lot you already know where I stand about this but I just need to talk about this with a wider audience before I go insane. Also thanks for 50 followers I promise I'll draw more when I'm not halfway across the globe.

First off, there's no fucking reason to infantilize heart. Genuinely. I think in the album he's only treated like a child when mind called him a boy and a kid. There's no other "proof" other than when MIND LIES ABOUT HEART, and still people write heart like this insolent little kid who cannot do anything for himself.

And, I don't know if these two things are truly related, but as someone who's physically disabled it grinds a particular gear when people make the canon disabled character (anyone who thinks otherwise literally. Why do u want to take rep away from disabled people SOO BADLY) act like a child. I understand it's probably not that for some people but again, why is it so hard to imagine a disabled person who can stick up for themselves?? Heart might rely on soul or mind for certain things since he's blind but he's also his own person. Blindness effects everyone differently but one thing any physically disabled person is sick of it's infantilization and this is still true for fictional characters as well. It's genuinely never okay no matter the context.

Heart is emotionally mature. I'm sorry he is, Heart isn't a 12 year old and Heart has delt with the brunt of the body's emotions for his entire existence. He thinks logically and genuinely makes good points which are rooted in truth while mind makes outrageous claims, constantly makes heart seem like the lesser one and is genuinely so emotionally immature that it's insane. The moment he's given control over their emotions he kinda loses his shit and cannot handle it (the end line of tha and the two songs between THA and TME prove this) and yet people think heart is worse with emotions. Be so honest and give me proof of this other than when he was CONDEMNED TO APATHY.

And if u want proof for that PLEASE just listen to the bidding. Or TSE. Or literally any song that isn't about heart wanting to end his life. He sticks up for himself and specifically he talks back to mind which some fic authors genuinely just forget about?? And I get it write characters how you want to but god am I tired of seeing heart and mind argue and heart could just be replaced with a doll who says the same 3 things. "That's not true :((" "you do that too :(((" and "*sniffle* ur wrong >:((" WHYYYY ARE YOU SO INSISTENT ON MAKING HEART DEPENDENT ON OTHERS THAT HE CANNOT EVEN TALK BACK TO MIND OR SOUL. Heart harbored anger and hate but it seems like some people ignore that and just place him into this box EXACTLY LIKE MIND DID. Why did the mind gaslighting work on you /ref .

Also, since heart is "the emotional side" people lovee to make him feminine and small and it's so upsetting. First off, this idea that emotions r feminine pisses me off because it's just regurgitating misogyny and I'm sick of pretending like it's not. People fucking. Yaoi-ify (only word I can think of right now sorry) heart and mind by making mind this trad masc tall guy with a strong jaw while heart has a softer jawline and is usually smaller. It's so aggravating to me that fanon heart is this soft boi with no genuine fight to him while canonically we have SEEN HIM TALK BACK AND BE MEAN TO MIND??? I get this fandom has a lot of teenagers in it but holy shit can people not do the same shit we were doing 8 fucking years ago with tomtord.

And just one last thing, stop trying to aggressively masculinize mind just because he's emotionally immature and has a deep voice. He's not this intellectual genius debater who is dishing facts towards heart and the few things he does say that are true he says alongside actual lies about heart. Write what you want and draw what you want but please understand the irl implications of your works and understand what type of ideas are you peddling by doing what you're doing.

TLDR: stop being fucking weird about heart and treat him like a grown ass man. He's not a child.

[captainjamster]

hi i have a request Price gives stress relief to reader

if youre too busy thats fine

i absolutely read your username instead of price and started writing for graves until i realised, so uhhh... this idea but with phil coming at some point! also wasn't sure if you meant stress relief or stress relief, so this gets nsfw!!

thank u for the ask my little sunshine i hope you enjoy, i am never too busy for a request, especially not from a fellow graves lover <3

Pairing(s): Price x AFAB!reader (no gendered nicknames or pronouns) Warnings: NSFW, fingering, light dirty talk Wordcount: 2.2k Summary: Price gives you a hand winding down after a frustrating day at work, though mutual satisfaction is on his mind. AO3 Link: Right here <3

Full fic is under the cut <3

The pages rustle as John flickers through them, smoothing out with the tapping of your phone to create a peaceful, white noise. Yet despite the atmosphere, a heavy weight presses on your chest, brow furrowed and shoulders tight as you scroll through your apps. You can feel John's eyes on you, taking in your sullen form as you glare a hole into your screen.

"You're quiet, love."

John breaks the silence, looking down at his book again. You take a moment to compile a response, debating whether to delve into the frustrations of your week.

"Just a day, I guess."

He takes in the short, avoidant answer, thumbing the pages of his book. "Don't want to talk about it?"

"I don’t know. Not really."

John looks at you again, and this time, you turn to him too.

"Can I hold you?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. The moment your head inches forward, the book thuds onto his bedside table with a careless toss, immediately spreading his arms open. "C'mere, sweetheart."

You crawl into his lap, curling up and sinking into him. His arms wrap around you reflexively, bringing your head to rest against the bristle of his chest, the other arm rubbing up and down your back. He doesn't press the subject, just sets a steady pace to inhale and exhale with, rocking you softly with each breath.

After a few minutes, you initiate conversation yourself, mumbling against the skin of his sternum.

"So... Shit. Everything is so shit."

"Shit, love?"

You rub your cheek against his chest hair as you nod. "I hate people."

"Yeah?"

Drawing in a sharp breath, the feeling of burning frustration reignites in your lower stomach as you spill out an angry tirade. "God, I just want to tear their fucking heads off sometimes! I want one day, just one day, where I can speak my mind. I could ask them "oh, I'm sorry, is your fucking price wrong? Okay, now is it MY fault or YOUR fault that you didn't check the coupon was in date before you used it?" Maybe their fucking brains would start working if I didn’t have to just smile and say “yes customer, no customer! Whatever you want customer!” like the stupidest shit didn’t just come out their mouth!”

You turn, back pressed to his stomach as you gesture agitatedly. "I can't stand it! "Oh, oh! I dropped this jar and now it's cracked! Can I get it for free? Oh, my kid ate half of this apple, but he doesn't want it, so I'll just put it back on display! Let's berate this minimum-wage worker because the line was slightly long at midday, like they have any control over that!" Like, why do people become such monsters whenever they step foot into a store? My friend from that clothing shop down the street? She said someone tried to return a whole bag of dirty underwear, like what the fuck?"

Huffing, your jaw clenches tight as you cross your legs, flopping your head back against his shoulder dramatically.

"I'm sorry, baby." He murmurs lowly, running his hands up your arms, digging his thumbs into the tense flesh of your shoulder. "S'not fair, you deserve to be treated better than that, your friend too."

You soften into his arms, biting at the inside of your cheek. “I just wanna quit. Management sucks, everyone else working there is just as miserable. No wonder their turnover rate is so high.”

John’s hand drops down from your shoulder, running past your chest to rest against your midriff. "Always can, doll. Put in your two weeks, live off what I've got in the bank 'til y'find a better position. Y'know I'd let you never work a day in your life, if you'd let me."

His tone is gentle and passive, content in his reminder with your desire to keep financial independence and stay busy when he leaves for deployment. The room falls into silence again as you nestle into an arm, manoeuvring it to rest over your chest like a seatbelt and clip between your legs. His other arm rests along the length of your leg, and you feel him lean his weight back against the bed’s head as you continue thinking, playing with his arm hair absent-mindedly. John is content to let you fiddle away, his hand caught in the grip of your thighs comfortably, thumb traces little circles against the skin it rests between.

His body shifts underneath you after a few minutes of quiet, readjusting to move closer. You’re suddenly flush against him as he sits up, pulling you tighter against his soft, sturdy chest and pressing a kiss to the back of your head. The movement surprises a squeak out of you, squirming before a pressure against the crotch of your underwear stills you. Warm air brushes against your hair as John huffs in amusement, readjusting the hand cupped against your sex in an effort to tug you closer, intentionally positioning his hand to spread and fully cover your mound.

"John..."

He hums in response against your neck, lips pressed into the skin.

"Your hand."

"My hand, dove?" He pulls away, leaving one last kiss behind your ear.

"It's, ahhh...”

He flexes his fingers tighter for a second, the increase in pressure barely stimulating the sensitive nerves beneath. “What? Just movin’ you closer, ‘n my hand’s nice and warm down there.”

The playfully avoidant answer earns him an exasperated groan, though the desire seeping into you leaves it breathier than you’d like.

“Want me to stop?”

You shake your head before he can finish the sentence, grip tightening on his forearm. The vibration of his chuckles jostles you against his torso, warming your cheeks. Before you can exclaim your embarrassment, he shifts under the blankets and nudges your legs open, his feet hooking round your ankles to pin them apart. “How about some stress relief, hm? Get all those yucky feelings out for the night.”

His fingers trail teasingly against the hemline of your elastic, running his nails over the soft fat that meets the cotton barrier. All it takes is a “yes, please” for his fingers to breach the elastic, honing to your entrance only to glide back up the damp skin of your lips. At your whining insistence, his fingers deftly pull your lips apart, using his middle finger to collect the slick gathering between your folds and lather it against your clit. Your hips jerk at the contact, and John tuts, chasing your hips to flick his thumb over the sensitive button. “Askin’ for it, but y’won’t sit still, huh? Jus’ wanna help my baby feel better.”

Moving his arm to cup your chest, his hand crawls under your shirt to pinch your nipple, sending shivers down your spine as he rolls it between his fingers. Your whimpers only egg him on, emboldening him to trace little circles around your clit as he works to build the delicious tension growing between your legs.

Warmth flushes through your body, combining with the body heat radiating from John’s chest against your back, leaving you burning up in your own desire. It only takes minutes of John’s ministrations to draw wet squelches from between your legs, filling your ears as your eyes flutter closed, focusing on the way John’s fingers curl and tease around your most sensitive spot.  

“John, please…”

He takes your unspoken request without argument, leaving the begging for another night as his fingers leave your swollen nub to graze against your needy entrance. Your hole twitches at the slight contact, clenching as if to draw him in, eliciting a chuckle from John that goes unchallenged in your distracted state. Catching a line of slick dribbling down your perineum, he guides it back up, coating his fingers before he dips a digit into your hole.

You hiss wantonly at the sensations, hips bucking up to urge his finger in deeper, and John tuts. “Keep still, needy thing. Tryna play with this pretty cunt properly.”

He teases you with a sole finger, crooking it to stroke against the spongey muscle that has you leaking with each pass. Despite the stimulation, the single digit leaves your needy cunt feeling empty, fluttering against the intrusion with a desperation until you’re mewling for more.

“I know, y’need more, pet,” he murmurs into the skin behind your ear, dropping kisses down to your jaw. “Let me take care of you.”

The thick finger retreats from within you, leaving you whining in complaint as your hips chase his touch. Your eager hips are met with a firm spank to your folds, leaving John’s fingers trailing with slick as you gasp and retreat to the mattress, back against the protruding bulge in his lap. The compliance is rewarded with a soothing swipe of his fingers along your stinging lips, collecting arousal against his calloused skin. His fingertips circle teasingly at your entrance again, tracing the quivering muscle as he chuckles at your reactivity. Sensing the protest rising in you, he silences it with a swift thrust of his fingers, filling you up again.

His fingers work like they were designed to coax the stress from you with each drag, replacing the tension with a buzzing need for release that has you flexing and relaxing in waves against him. The pressure builds in the pit of your stomach as his fingers pump in and out of you, his other hand abandoning your breast and travelling down to reclaim its spot nestled against your clit, rolling tight circles around the nerve ending in harmony with the drive of his digits. He masterfully orchestrates your undoing, timing each thrust with each involuntary grind of your hips, kissing the salt from your neck as your head lulls against his shoulder, panting.

“Fuck, right there, m’so close John,” you moan, hands fumbling to find something to grip, finding purchase in his hairy thighs. The way your nails sink into the meat of his muscle has him groaning in your ear, breaking his smooth rhythm with a particularly deep thrust as he struggles to contain his enthusiasm. “Fuck, sweetheart, my god.”

Your cunt tightens so fiercely around his fingers that you’re sure they’re being crushed together as your orgasm hits you, squeezing the digits like you could milk the life out of them if you tried hard enough. John hums praise against your neck as he waits for your walls to relax to resume lazily thrusting in and out through the last sparks your climax, his own breath laboured as you tremble in his embrace.

His hand remains between your legs, fingers snug within you as your breathing evens out, the other travelling to trace small circles on the inside of your thigh. You float on the high of your orgasm, sweaty and satisfied as the strain dissipate from your legs, relaxing against John’s.

“Any improvement?”

You give him a breathless giggle, pulling your eyes open to tilt back and look at him. “Yeah, don’t feel like decapitating someone anymore.”

“Good.” He gives you a pleased smile, dotting a kiss on the corners of your lips. His face is warm and flushed, eyes still hazy with lust as he looks down at you, which brings a thought to your mind.

“Do you want me to take care of you…?”

His expression flickers to something guarded behind the smile, gently disentangling himself from your body. “I’m fine, don’t worry,” he announces gruffly, clearing his throat as he ducks into the bathroom. You frown, gazing at his retreating figure as you shuck off your soiled underwear, waiting for his return. He re-emerges with a damp cloth, crawling across the bed to kneel between your still spread legs, wiping delicately at the mess of arousal sticking to the sensitive surface of your skin.

The cloth is slightly warm as he pats at any excess water, collecting your dirty underwear as he pulls away. Walking to the closet, he discards the used fabrics in the laundry basket, grabbing another pair of underwear for you. Readjusting the sheets and blankets, you watch him quickly tug off his boxers, grabbing another pair that he manages to pull around his knees before you gasp in realisation.

“John, you didn’t?”

He turns around with a bashful expression, tucking himself into the crotch as he grins. “What? Pretty thing like you grinding up against me like that, can’t help myself.” Giving up with discretion, he chucks his own soiled boxers into the basket, returning to the bed with your underwear in an outstretched hand.

You pull them on as he climbs in next to you, tucking himself under the covers as you turn off the lamp and join him. He raises his arm, holding the blankets up like a cave as you grin sleepily, shuffling across the sheets to scoot into his embrace. The covers descend on you as John takes care to tuck them underneath you, entangling your legs between his as his hand finds home in your hair.

“Thank you, John. Was feeling really shitty about that.” You whisper into his chest, blinking your eyes closed as a sleepy warmth grows heavy in your limbs.

John grunts, patting at your hair. “S’what I’m made for, lookin’ after you. Get some sleep 'n we’ll work everythin’ out in the morning.”

A smile tugs at your lips as the last whisps of consciousness fade from your mind, and a gruff I love you is the last thing you remember before falling asleep.

[choccy-milky]

Hi babe, just read what u published about getting hate on Clora from your latest chapter.

I just wanted to say that there’ll always be people that will throw HATE - on your oc - story- decisions u make for your fanfic-story-character. The important thing here is to know where you stand, what u like, how u want your characters-story to be headed. I knoooow for a fact that is jealousy, towards you, your creativity, your imagination, and they just wanna be “cool”.

I’ve followed u for a time now ( and sorry I’ve always wanted to message you saying how awesome u are 🥲 but didn’t have the courage to do so… but this drew the line! ) and how you manage to portray the feelings, story and the character’s personalities is truly unique. U👏KEEP👏DOING👏THAT👏.

In my country we say “take the things from who says them” ( poor translation sorry ) it basically means take the comments and opinions from the people who know about the topic, from people that are important to you, from people you admire, etc. Not from those kind of people who CLEARLY have NO CLUE about the HP plot 😅 which like u said, it revolves about sacrifice and love, or just for the art of hating an -awesome- OC. Like, c’on we’re too old for this hating on one and other 😒.

I know it’s upsetting. BUT: Keep on shining. Keep on giving Clora her vibrant and wonderful personality that u both share. Keep working hard. Keep creating.

I’m sending all my love and support from a remote corner of Earth. 💖🫶

PS. Sorry for the long AF message. Toodaloo!😘

AWW TY BABE SRSLY💖💖💖 im so happy youve been enjoying my art/story/following me for so long!!!😭💖💖

and you're 100000% right, i need to just focus on the positive and people who enjoy my content and who are kind to me and whose opinions i respect 😭💖LIKE YOU!!💖💖and ik people might just then accuse me of surrounding myself in an echo chamber of yes men who just are nice to me bc i cant take criticism BUT HEY!! what else am i supposed to do for my mental health? if you dont like clora or my story/art or w.e else, just block me and curate your feed and move on and dont think about me anymore, the same way im trying to do for my own wellbeing. im lucky enough to have lot of ppl like my art and story but that doesnt mean i signed some agreement to have people be rude to me and i just have to take it with a smile. like naw my guy, i have ANXIETY UP THE WAZOO!! and im allowed to block and delete and respond to stuff like that when it upsets me too ALSO THANK YOU AS WELL @jodiswiftle 💖💖im so happy youre enjoying my fic sm. i got your ask but i hope you dont mind me just addressing it here, bc i dont wanna keep drawing attention to this and keep making separate posts about it/the negativity and i want this to be the last one. but IT REALLY DOES MEAN A LOT, THANK YOU FOR YOUR PASSIONATE RANT OF AFFECTION BAHAHA IT RLY CHEERED ME UP TOO 💖💖🥹

[dropout-if]

NSFW alphabet for Statler, pretty please?

There you go anon 🕴🏻

NSFW below obv

A = Aftercare.

Very attentive, Statler loves taking their time, taking care of their partner—cuddling, sharing lazy kisses, tracing their fingers over their s/o’s hickeys. In the heat of the moment, Statler adores whispering affectionately against their partner’s ear.

B = Body part.

Eyes. Statler wants eye contact, they want to see every faint trail of emotion in their partner's gaze.

C = Cum.

M!Statler loves cumming inside (he’s a bit in denial about it, but he wonders how it feels too). F!Statler loves having cum inside her, swallowing it too. Other than that, Statler doesn't have a strong opinion about it.

D = Dirty secret.

Not a dirty secret per se (though they do feel as though it is), but Statler has a navel piercing that they've only shown to two people at best.

E = Experience

Statler has only ever had a sexual relationship with Noir—who is a bit more experienced than them, but not much. Everything Statler knows they've learnt with Noir. As someone who adores taking care of other people, it comes natural for Statler to assume the same role during sex.

F = Favorite position.

Facing their partner, having their partner on their lap.

G = Goofy.

Sex is just another means to give affection, in Statler's mind. They don't do casual, they thrive in the intimacy. And so, though Statler tends to take it more seriously, they do enjoy

H = Hair.

Statler's hair bleached blonde. They shave their legs. M!Staler has untrimmed curly black pubic hair, and a bit of equally curly chest hair. F!Statler has natural curly black pubic hair.

I = Intimacy.

Every affectionate thing Statler does with their partner is often the epitome of romanticism. They like to tell them just how fondly they feel for them—how good everything feels with them—how much they want their s/o… Statler is very flirty when they're having sex.

J = Jack off.

Masturbation is something Statler seldom does— only when they're too stressed and need to relax a bit. They usually keep it a secret from their partner for some reason.

K = Kink.

Statler doesn't really acknowledge their kinks as kinks, but as things they happen to enjoy but hate discussing. So— they happen to enjoy praise (perhaps a bit too much) and breeding (no actual pregnancy, but the idea of breeding).

L = Location.

A bed. Statler is often so burnt out from their jobs that they secretly daydream of doing it at the store or the bar, behind the counter.

M = Motivation.

What turns Statler on the most is pleasure, but not their own. They adore seeing their partner writhe in pleasure, they get so wet/hard when they know they're doing a good job.

N = No.

Degrading and hurting their partner is where Statler draws the line. Even if it's something their s/o wants, Statler can't handle the idea of possibly doing it wrong.

O = Oral.

Doesn't know it yet, but Statler loves receiving oral. They do prefer to be the one giving it. As someone who's very observant and in tune to their partner's reactions, Statlers learns very quickly how to please someone with their mouth.

P = Pace.

Typically slow and sensual. Statler does tend to like it an itty bit rougher—sharper, harder—whenever they're really pent up.

Q = Quickie.

Doesn't really mind them. Quick is something Statler wouldn't do as their first option, though. They like taking their time, making the experience last as long as they can until both they and their partner are slightly overstimulated.

R = Risk.

Statler is open to try some things if it's something their partner wants, but they wouldn't propose it themself.

S = Stamina.

They were an athlete. The only thing Statler has left of high school is their stamina. Statler can and will most likely last longer than any possible partner. M!Statler also recovers quite quickly.

T = Toys.

Statler doesn't own toys. They do feel a little curious toward some of them.

U = Unfair.

It's not really teasing, though Statler does love to whisper sweet nothings to their s/o. They are quite talkative during sex.

V = Volume.

Rarely makes sounds themself, they prefer hearing their partner. When Statler is on the receiving end of pleasure, they do get a bit louder—as if overwhelmed by the need to moan and groan.

W = Wild card.

M!Statler secretly fantasizes about being pegged. F!Statler secretly fantasizes about owning a strap on.

X = X-ray (this. This is about tits and dicks right????).

M!Statler is big, nearly 9 inches—he's thick around the base. F!Statler has a C cup.

Y = Yearning.

Statler is often so tired that they don't have that high of a sex drive. They're often at a 0, though they go to a 100 really quickly.

Z = Zzz.

Again— if they're usually tired, Statler is exhausted after having sex. They love and enjoy aftercare for as long as it lasts, and then they fall asleep almost immediately (5-10 minutes of cuddling).

[bokettochild]

*sigh*

listen

u seem like the perfect person to ask

but I need to know if you've got any Scottish or Irish headcanons about the boys

you out of all people seem like the one to have em, just based on vibes

please-

-✨

I hear bagpipes playing for some reason.....

Yes! As a proud descendant of the Stewart line and an partially Irish family, I very much have some Scottish headcannons for the boys! Granted, I didn't get a lot of cultural education from my parents because ✨american military family✨ but yeah.

Warriors in my fics is actually the Hylian equivalent of Scottish! It's not super apparent because he tends to hide his heritage and mask his accent (on account of maintaining the respect of his men who, like many hylians, are pretty racist), but he and his sisters are all very Scottish. Heavy accent, lots of pride, absolutely overflowing with the stories and fairy-tales and heroes that they adore, but they rarely speak of any of it in front of those outside of their culture. I tend to headcannon they lived in the North of Hyrule before, but moved to the capital in hopes of finding better work and maybe improving their standard of living, which happened when Warriors joined the army. They miss the Hebra countryside though.

Do you want to know how many times I've almost drawn our captain in a kilt? The answer is probably the same as how often guys think of the roman empire. The only reason I haven't done it before is because I hate drawing legs (I might do it anyways though, for reasons) and my experience in kilt drawing reminds me that, oh yeah, TARTAN is tricky to draw too. (So many variations and patterns, and what tartan would I even put him in? My dad's? My mother's? My mom's might be appropriate because the Black Watch sort of suits a knight, but also I don't think his family would have that one?)

Yes though, Warriors is just straight up Scottish!

As for the others, I like to think that the fairies and those of the Kolkiri forest tended to also have something of an Irish accent, and are sort of like the fae of Celtic legend in some ways. So, whenever I write Time speaking the fae tongue it's literally just Irish-Gaelic from one translation service or another (I suck at learning languages so yeah...) So yeah, Hyrule and Time have some influence from the culture. They don't have it as fully as Warriors though, so it's kinda annoying because he speaks their mother tongue better than them and despite not being fae or fae adjacent, he is incredibly informed about it all?!?!?!?!

Proxi adores this. Mask kinda hated it, but it also made him feel more at home because Warriors was the first person since Saria to speak to him in his own language.

I've been tempted to throw out a fic where the boys actually meet Warriors' family (sisters and mother) but accents are not my strong suit in writing and the idea of writing eight people with heavy accents is...daunting. I need to get my hands on some George MacDonald again if I want to do that, so I can tune myself in properly (if you enjoy stories set in Old Scotland please read his work, I love him! The Fisherman's Lady and The Highlander's Last Song are two of my favorites!)