#yah😌

[pvffinsdaisies]

It’s very late and I cannot sleep as I plot out an in-depth ScotNor break up where they get back together after a few months bc they’re my stupid lil blorbos who cannot resist one another <3

[incorrect-multiverse]

Natasha, on the phone with Steve: Just snap his kneecaps and he’ll talk, I’m at a parent teacher conference.

Natasha: Anyways, you said Nadya is enjoying finger painting! That's great.

[objectum-culture-is]

objectum culture is waiting for a preorder to arrive and daydreaming abt the pre-emptive crush you already have for the object

.

[doranbasu]

pls keep me in your thoughts I'm replaying HS 2 from season 1...

[vampirombie]

Faded and late but here's that updated selfie for anon

[lexa-griffins]

Hi lovely 💕 I absolutely loved your Valentine's Day headcanon for your seven minutes in heaven clexa 🥰 I loved how simple yet deeply romantic their date night was. I found it so sweet how Lexa created a giant fort for their soft night where they just reiterated how head over heels they are for each other 🥹 I laughed when Clarke brought out the special condoms too and Lexa found them to be absolutely cute. They are so in love with each other 🥹

Like you said, they are still in their honeymoon phase with each other where their relationship is perfect and strong. However, I know you really love adding angst to your stories so may I ask what angst you have planned for our two lovebirds that may pop the bubble? Maybe they have their first fight with each other over something trivial? They make a big deal over it because they're still teenagers and don't know how to properly communicate yet

I think you mentioned in an earlier ask about Lexa getting annoyed that she's not climaxing during sex and feels that sex is now just a chore to get Clarke off. I love this idea where Lexa starts to believe that sex is becoming too one-sided now since Clarke still has trouble lasting long enough. Lexa doesn't want to hurt her girlfriend's feelings and confidence that she's "bad at sex" but after several months together, she was hoping that Clarke would improve but that clearly isn't the case. Lexa doesn't know how to bring this up to Clarke without implying the obvious and ruining what they have.

Do you have any headcanons on how this may play out? I love nerd Clarke and popular Lexa but I want to see them suffer a tiny bit 🤏

Heya 🥰 so glad you enjoyed it! I think if Lexa was to take Clarke out somewhere too public she'd probably get a little overwhelmed and the blanket fort was too adorable to pass on!

The angst /will/ be about that last part! While they do have little petty fights they are both really good at taking a little space between them and apologizing. Most of the time its something so small it takes them no longer than half an hour of silence before they are all over each other and saying sorry for whatever it was they did.

But sex is a very sensitive topic for Clarke, she kind of shuts down and gets really defensive over it. They barely talk about it, which to Lexa can be a little awkward because she is pretty sex positive and would prefer to just be honest about things and work on solving them while Clarke always takes everything a little too personally. And while Lexa loves to have sex with Clarke she does think Clarke got too comfortable with Lexa not minding not cumming during it. And Clarke knows and is good at eating her out and fingering her but Lexa is starting to not enjoy the idea that her orgasm is foreplay for actual sex or that Clarke seems to be kind of rushing her to cum so she can get inside of her. Lexa doesnt have any questions that Clarke loves her but at some point either Lexa says something that might make Clarke feel horrible about herself and her capabilities at sex or the further they go into this relationship the harder it will be for Lexa to say something without sounding like she's getting bored of her.

And admittedly, Lexa should have waited for a better time to bring it up, when they are perhaps dressed and clear minded and not with an annoyed huff right after Clarke cums that she immediately regrets once Clarke looks at her with the biggest puppy dog eyed expression. The volley season is about to start and Lexa is just frustrated with things. So when Clarke asks her whats wrong Lexa sighs and tells her how she wishes sex wasnt so one sided as it is right now... and like she expected, Clarke immediately starts to recoil, grabbing a pillow to hide her crotch and trying to hide herself. And that kind of annoys Lexa. She loves Clarke so much, she's been trying to hard to make her feel beautiful and wonderful and all she's asking is for this one little thing.

But like you said, they are kids and they sometimes dont know how to communicate. And Lexa, in her frustration, says something she really shouldn't... "Costia always made me cum."

Clarke is collecting her clothes and getting dressed trying not to cry while Lexa, usually the one who puts on a brave face, has tears rolling down her eyes and is begging Clarke to understand that shes not saying shes bad at sex or that she wishes she was like Costia, not at all! She loves Clarke and she wouldn't trade her for the world. All Lexa wants is to not feel so taken for granted.

That makes Clarke slow down before grabbing her phone. Has she been taking Lexa for granted? It always felt Lexa knew so much more about relationships and sex that Clarke should be the one given leeway to learn but shit, did Clarke really decide the entire relationship should be focused on her?

She can think when Lexa is looking at her naked and crying, she just wants to go home and be alone. But she doesnt want Lexa to think this is her running away. So she steps closer to her and kisses her forehead. Clarke hates the way Lexa sobs when she does. Fuck, this love shit is hard. "Ill call you tomorrow okay?"

Lexa nods, knowing trying to prevent her from leaving will only result in them actually fighting in a way that will only lead to screaming, "okay. I love you." She sobs again when clarke doesnt say it back.

The next morning instead of feeling ready to face Lexa, Clarke is pissed. Why hadnt Lexa said anything earlier?! Has Lexa only been pretending she likes sex with her? Clarke really was stupid to think she'd ever be able to keep Lexa happy and satisfied for long. So, she goes to Raven, expecting her to agree with her, after all, Raven isnt even the biggest Lexa fan.... she did not expect to get almost yelled at by her and told to get her head out of her ass.

"That girl loves you Clarke, dont be fucking dense. She didnt say you dont know how to use your dick or that you suck at sex, all she asked was for you to think of her as much as she thinks of you!"

The way Murphy nods his head without looking away from his phone only makes Clarke feel more like an asshole.

Clarke catches Lexa just as she's coming back from practice and unlocking her front door. Lexa feels sorry for her the second she sees her, looking like a kicked puppy begging for forgiveness, "can we talk?"

Once in Lexa's room, they both sit on opposite sides of it, Lexa awkwardly on the bed while Clarke turns nervously on the desk chair. They have not been awkward with each other since that day at the party and this feels so uncomfortable for the both of them. Lexa wants to go and hug Clarke and ask her to forget about what she said. She just wants to kiss Clarke and have this behind them because she has never felt as miserable as she felt in the past 16 hours.

"Clarke, im sorry-"

"No, /im/ sorry. I should be the one apologizing. I know you day i do that too much but its warranted here. Ive been so wrapped in my own head wanting to get better at sex and instead of focusing on what i could better to make you feel good ive just been focusing on what made me feel good." Lexa is shocked by how sincere Clarke is. No fake excuses, no defensiveness, just admission of what she did wrong, "i havent been a very good girlfriend i dont think. But if you still want me as one, I promise I'll do better. I dont want to lose you Lexa..." shes crying now, staring at Lexa like if she breaks up with her she'll lose her reason to breathe.

Lexa is on her lap in a flash, leaving kisses all over her face until Clarke cracks a smile, "im sorry i didnt say anything before and chose such a fucking terrible moment to say anything I was mad, and frustrated and-" clarke interrupts her rambling with a kiss and Lexa quickly loses herself on it.

As they pull away Clarke smiles, "you have nothing to apologize for babe"

"Thats usually my line, isnt it?"

"Yeah well, we clearly have to start switching things up around here."

Lexa chuckles and leans in for a kiss before she is suddenly lifted from the chair by Clarke, her kegs immediately coming to wrap around her waist

"Speaking of switching it up," Lexa laughs as she's playfully thrown onto her bed, Clarke climbing on top of her and smashing their faces together for a kiss, hands quickly reaching for the band of Lexa's shorts, "im hungry 😏"

[sol-draws-sometimes]

I’m prepping reels to post on my insta account(I have one btw, just no posts on it yet), but this is so funny, I’ll share this with yall

Audio comes from a Kitboga vid

Transcripts underneath:

In the context of the vid it’s a scammer and Kitboga

Scammer(glitchy distressed screaming): DO NOT REDEEM! DO NOT REDEEM THE CARD!

Kitboga: What?

Scammer: DO NOT REDEEM THE CARDS!

Kitboga(very matter of fact/calm): Yes!

(Crosstalk) Kitboga: I’m redeeming the card. I’m redeeming the card! Okay!

(Crosstalk) Scammer: DO NOT REDEEM THE CARDS!

Beat/silence

Scammer: NOOOOOOOOOOO

[hdminseon-archive]

━━ : 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑 𝐕. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑 ( act i ) .

DATED:  late february 2023, following hyde academy's first elimination FEATURING:  canon npc ( references to okamoto kentaru ) WORD COUNT:  900 NOTES:  kang minseon continues to be both protagonist + antagonist of his own story. aka this is a backstory drop, but minseon is a woefully unreliable narrator ! ( tw: unreality )

MINSEON WAKES WITHOUT THE KNOWLEDGE THAT HE'D FALLEN ASLEEP. He blinks, and he's in the kitchen slicing strawberries ( works the knife with a precision borne of experience, stains the skin of his hands a scarlet red ).

In his periphery, he can see that he's being watched. The lens of the camera is and has been ever-present, but, today, there's an additional set of eyes on him, belonging to a visitant who shares his face, known simply as 'The Boy'. The Boy has settled himself against the counter, long arms crossed against his chest. Where he typically appears looking like a parody of Minseon from years past, in this moment, he's become Minseon's exact likeness, down to the tight clench of his jaw, the dark bruise blooming on the side of his wrist.

It's remarkably unnerving.

Minseon puts the knife down and rinses his hands. They don't speak. He walks past his apparition and into the pantry.

KANG MINSEON: WILL YOU STAY OR WILL YOU RUN? » Run.

HE OPENS THE PANTRY DOOR AND FINDS HIMSELF IN HIS CHILDHOOD BEDROOM. It's a small, faded room lit with yellow bulbs and streaks of sun— an attic his family had converted into a living space when he'd outgrown his grandparents' room. Outside, he can hear the excited chatter of students walking home from evening extracurriculars; Minseon remembers being fourteen and idly casting his eyes down to watch them from above, wishing and wanting. He was a mousy thing back then, with great big eyes and prominent ears and too-long limbs for a too-small body. He catches a glimpse of his reflection now, glassy and near-transparent in the pane of a window. Things are different, he assures himself. Things have changed.

He starts to make his way downstairs, before he hears his own voice in his ears, low and somewhat scratchy with disuse: "I don't think we have time for this."

The Boy has followed him in.

Minseon lingers at the top of the steps. He can hear his mother in the kitchen, humming absently over the sound of a ladle clattering against the rim of a stewpot. There's the aroma of curry rice in the air, and it makes Minseon's body ache; he doesn't remember why. He levels The Boy with a hard stare. "I need it." So he heads downstairs.

The thing he misses most about living in Incheon is the music of his own home. It's the jazz filtering in through the floorboards, another quartet rehearsing for a night at the bar. It's the ring of the telephone and the subsequent sound of his grandfather moving to answer it. It's the chatter of patrons, the clinking of glasses, the polite applause as the room dims and the stage comes alive. Minseon closes his eyes, and he can imagine it all, awash in violet lights, the familiar weight of a bass guitar on his upper thigh, calloused hands wrapped around its neck. It's the music of his childhood, to dream awake. And it all comes to a gratifying conclusion when he hears his mother drop a spoon to the floor and give a lukewarm curse.

Minseon wanders into the kitchen. His mother cries, "Seon-ah!" and she's happy to see him, he notes with relief. She tosses the spoon into the sink and looks somewhat proud of herself. "Your mother cooked dinner today. Set the table; I'll be right out!"

Minseon doesn't have the heart to tell her that he does not have an appetite. Moreover, the curry is burning, and he can smell it. The Boy peers into the stewpot, and Minseon watches him falter, watches his lower lip tremble. He feels something twist painfully inside of him, but he ignores it and moves to set the dining table.

His mother has left the TV on to drown out the noise of the bar below. Mnet is airing a drama centered on k-pop idols played by k-pop idols, and Minseon scoffs as the male lead is mobbed by adoring fans. It's played for laughs. He doesn't laugh.

His father, sitting innocuously on a nearby shelf, also does not laugh— He doesn't do much, in fact, but Minseon smiles at him all the same. He's always liked to think of this stranger as a kind man, but beyond passing curiosities, the truth is that he doesn't think of his father much at all. Away from this shelf, outside of this house, it's difficult to remember he even exists.

He's about to pick up the photo frame to inspect it, wondering if he should broach this topic with his mother, when he's distracted by the sound of the TV again, the transition to another program: a survival show. Beside him, The Boy goes still. A voice that sounds eerily familiar begins a recap of the events thus far, but before it can finish, the TV turns itself off, flooding the room in silence.

... Silence?

Minseon strains his ears to listen for the sounds of the jazz bar. It's too quiet. Anxiously, he makes his way back to the kitchen, but his mother has disappeared. In her place is a canvas-bound journal with a recipe for Japanese curry. He searches its pages for a way forward, maybe for a suggestion of what's to come, but all that's in it is a singular name written in kanji: Okamoto Kentaru. Minseon flinches and steadies himself against the counter, suddenly dizzy...

...

...

...

[tuxxydo]

thinking about bubba hugging jason and i literally want to rip off my flesh

[aviatrix-ash]

Probably not making any art these next few weeks, learned recently the faa decided late next month will be when they change my exams/requirements, so if I don't get these done before then I'll be tested on new plane maintenance stuff when I've spent the last 2 years learning old plane maintenance stuff. It works out for me personally tho, as it seems now, I will be doing very very old plane maintenance stuff post school.

But I can't lie when I mention they needed to update aviation maintenance curriculum. It has rarely been updated since about the 1950s. :'))

So yah, I'm like 75-80% ready for this exam, I'd have had it done sooner but I've been fighting burnout for real. Been going at this almost nonstop for over 2 years now. Had a couple 2 week breaks in between, it helped a little. I'm at the point where the burnout has been hovering so long tho it's hard to recognize it some days. But Iwould like to get this done and out the way before the sky cops screw me out of nearly 800 bucks for 2 exams I've been studying my ass off for. ((':

Plus I want that license in my hand so bad. It's a deep personal thing. I've worked even longer and harder just to get stable on my feet long enough to be able to go back to school. Just got 2 1/2 months left tho, won't be too hard, it's just getting thru it. That victory will be sweet tho, and then that's when the real fun (and more flying) begins 😌

[manny-jacinto]

Moulin Rouge too!

i would consider the moulin rouge! costumes non-modern tbh!

[objectum-culture-is]

Objectum culture is kissing your computer every time you leave and enter their room

.

[of-golden-guns]

😍

[strayrockette]

My Sunshine Girl: She Sees Red

Summary: After a chaotic bar fight, Benny guides you home, tending to your wounds and offering reassurance with his steadfast care and comforting presence.

Warnings: violence, blood, jealous and angry reader, Benny Cross and grammar mistakes

A/N: This one is a long one, I thought about splitting it but then the format starts to feel clunky so here yah go! Enjoy ❤️ Please comment your thoughts or for a tag, like and reblog❤️😌

Masterlist

My Sunshine Girl Series: The Celebration, The End of the Night, Family Dinner

Inspiration: He’s Mine by The Platters

Benny’s hands guided yours over the cue stick, his long fingers leaving traces of heat on your skin. “Just aim at the white ball, but don’t hit it too hard or you’ll send the others flying off the table,” he instructed softly, his voice a soothing murmur against the clamor of the bar. The warmth of his touch seeped through the thin fabric of your shirt, mingling with the adrenaline surging through you. His proximity was intoxicating, a blend of warmth and solid strength that made your pulse quicken in ways you tried hard to ignore.

You leaned over the pool table, his body pressed intimately into your side. Every slight movement of his chest against your own sent a shiver down your spine. Benny was absorbed in the game, his focus locked onto the table, seemingly oblivious to the effect he had on you. You found yourself mesmerized by the way his biceps flexed with every shot he took. The simple act of him guiding you, the closeness of his body, and the gentle caress of his fingers on yours filled you with a confusing mix of desire and nervous excitement. It was as if each small touch of his hand was a spark, lighting up every nerve in your body.

You stepped away from him, adjusting the cue stick with a nervous tremble. The weight of the game pressed heavily on you. Wahoo and Corky leaned against a nearby table, their casual banter punctuated by Wahoo’s impatience. “Come on, Sunshine, you’re giving me blue balls with this game,” he teased, his tone light but edged with frustration.

Benny ignored their chattering, casting you an encouraging smile that felt like a warm embrace. “You got this, baby.”

The heat rose to your cheeks, a blush blooming under the intensity of his gaze. You shook your head, trying to hold back a smile. “You put money on this game, handsome.”

You hadn’t anticipated Benny pulling you into a pool game. You’d tried to hand the cue stick back, but he was insistent, eager to teach you. His shrug was nonchalant, his confidence unwavering. “I’ll win it back next round. Don’t worry about it.”

As you glanced at the table, you saw the game was nearing its end. Benny had a shot at the 8 ball, while Wahoo had just one red solid ball left. If you missed your shot, you’d give Wahoo the chance to turn the game in his favor. The weight of responsibility settled heavily on your shoulders. The thought of losing for Benny filled you with dread, an almost physical ache of sympathy for his potential loss. “But… it’s your money,” you protested, looking up at him with serious eyes and a worried pout.

Benny chuckled, shaking his head dismissively. “Exactly, it’s my money. I’ll take care of it.” He gently turned you back toward the pool table, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His hands, warm and guiding, made your thoughts scatter, and you struggled to focus on the game.

He stepped away, giving you space, and moved to the longer side of the table. “If you hit the white ball at a slight right angle, you’ll make it.”

The cue stick felt unfamiliar in your hands, and the act of bending over the table was awkward. You were grateful that Benny had positioned you where no one was standing behind you. His eyes darted between the table and the surroundings, vigilant for any unwanted attention. Wahoo and Corky, though they might have made jokes, were respectful enough not to make lewd comments.

You took a deep breath, steadying your nerves. As you lined up the shot, you closed your eyes briefly, trying to block out the noise and focus solely on the feel of the cue stick. You could almost sense Benny's presence behind you, his confidence a comforting anchor amidst the mounting pressure. You struck the cue ball with a firm yet careful push, feeling the vibrations travel up the stick and into your hands. The thud of the ball hitting the others seemed to echo in your chest.

Benny’s smile was radiant, and it was reserved for just you. “I told you; I knew you could do it.”

You blinked, your eyes widening as you looked at the table. With a squeal of triumph, you released the cue stick, its thin body hitting the floor with a soft thud. You leapt into Benny’s arms, relief flooding through you. “I’m so glad I didn’t lose that for you,” you exclaimed.

His arms wrapped around you, his deep chuckle resonating through his chest. “You wouldn’t have lost the game. Wahoo would have fumbled. He always does.”

You laughed, pulling away slightly, your hands resting on his chest. Benny’s hands lingered, keeping you close. “That was fun, but never make me responsible for winning again. It’s too stressful.”

You toyed with the fabric of his shirt, feeling the intensity of his gaze. He hummed softly, his voice low and intimate. “Win or lose, I’m all in. It doesn’t matter to me.”

You caught the hidden meaning in his words. His eyes, often so playful, were now serious and full of emotion. The way he looked at you made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but tease him a bit. “Well then,” you said with a playful smirk, “I guess I should just lose all your games then.”

Benny’s eyes traveled over your face; his gaze clouded with a deep, intense emotion. His voice, deep as honey, pulled you closer. “I’ll just collect a losers fee”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, kissing you softly. The kiss was sweet, tender—much like the way he held you at night. He tugged gently on your bottom lip, his touch making you shiver as you pulled him closer, fingers threading into his hair.

“Ay, get a room before Benny boy decides to bash some heads in for looking at ya, Sunny!” Corky’s voice cut through the moment. He held three beers, while Wahoo, who was laughing, clapped Corky on the back.

“Yeah, we don’t need a repeat of the other night,” Wahoo added, once he caught his breath.

You pulled away from Benny abruptly, missing the warmth and closeness of his embrace. Benny shot a glare at the two, but he knew they were right. He was protective of you, and some of the men didn’t understand the chaos they’d invite by making inappropriate comments.

He watched you walk away, your dark jeans tight around your hips and thighs. Your pale pink shirt clinging to your waist and chest.

He remembered the short skirt you had worn when he first saw you, and the cute dresses you wore on nights out. He knew you’d been opting for less revealing attire recently. and he thinks about taking you out somewhere nice where you can where your cute dresses and skirts. The thought sends shivers through his body. A fire raging in his belly.

Wahoo snapped his fingers in front of Benny’s face, pulling him from his rising want and need for you.

Wahoo unbothered and unaware of Benny’s struggle asked a question. “We betting on a new game or what?”

Benny’s eyes refocused on you, your head bent close to one of your girls. He recognized her as Kathy, and saw you animatedly recounting a story, hands moving dramatically. You looked happy, and safe, and Benny decided he could leave you for a while. He placed his bet on the next game, intending to win enough money for a special gift for you.

“GET OUT?!” Kathy’s voice rose, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Did you really say that to Didi?” You nodded; excitement was evident on your face. “And then I led him to a table and gave him a menu.”

Kathy smirked. “So what? You fell in love at first sight?”

You shrugged, a hint of uncertainty in your smile. “I guess? I knew my life would change after meeting him, but I don’t know if I can say I love him.”

Kathy gave you a side-eye. “The way you were kissing by the pool table tells me otherwise.”

You gasped, stammering. “Th-that’s just a kiss! I wasn’t declaring my undying love.”

Kathy pursed her lips, her gaze intense. “So, you gonna let another man touch you?”

You recoiled at the thought. “Ew, no.”

She nodded, satisfied. “You’re in deep, Sunny.”

You laughed; a bit self-conscious. “I guess I am, pumpkin.”

Kathy burst into laughter, slapping your thigh playfully. The conversation shifted as she told you about Cal’s persistent visits to her house. Her ex had gotten too rough, and Cal had helped her throw him out. Relief washed over you that Kathy had managed to escape that situation.

The topic of Cal’s pursuit turned into a giggle-fest as Kathy explained his unwavering interest. “I think he likes the chase. Who knows, maybe I’ll give in.”

You poked her ribs, advising her not to make him suffer too long. The way Cal looked at her was almost too much to bear; his puppy-dog eyes were heartbreaking.

At some point, you returned to the pool table, Kathy having slipped away to see if Cal would take her home. Benny had removed his jacket and handed it to you, which you draped over your shoulders with ease, enjoying the extra coverage it provided.

You leaned against a wall, watching Benny’s intense focus as he played yet another betting game. He was on a winning streak, the tension of each game palpable. As he won this one too, he pocketed the money and stashed it into his back pocket.

He approached you, towering over you as he leaned down to peck your lips. He informed you he was stepping outside for a smoke. As his fingers delved into his jacket pocket, pulling out his cigarettes and lighter, you grabbed his arm, pulling him closer. “Another one, please?”

Benny’s blue eyes locked onto yours, a storm of intensity brewing within them. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead instead of your lips, before turning away. His touch lingered in your mind, leaving you with a sense of warmth and longing as he walked away.

You shook off the lingering thoughts, letting out a sigh as you decided a quick bathroom break was necessary before tracking him down for a real kiss, you nearly let out a giggle at the thought but stifled it as you made your way to the women’s bathroom.

Stepping out of the stall, you felt a rush of relief as you made your way to the sink. The bathroom, dimly lit and compact, offered a brief escape from the bar’s cacophony. Carefully, you removed Benny’s oversized jacket, its warmth still lingering from where you’d been wearing it. You hung it on the hook by the sinks, adjusting it so it draped neatly.

As you turned on the faucet and began washing your hands, the bathroom door swung open with a loud creak, and three women barged in. Their laughter and chatter immediately filled the small space, their presence abruptly shifting the mood.

“I told you; he was a looker!” the first one exclaimed, her voice carrying an edge of jealousy as she brushed past you to the mirror. A brief glance at them through the mirror and your heart sunk. You remembered seeing them eye you from a corner of the bar they had secluded for their group.

“And that kiss!” the second added, her tone dripping with mockery. “Did you see how he couldn’t keep his hands off her?”

You tried to ignore their comments, knowing that they were talking about you and Benny. You focused on your reflection in the mirror as you washed your hands. You hoped if you stayed silent they would back off. But the women seemed to take your silence as an invitation to escalate their comments.

The third woman, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke, her gaze fixed with sharp appraisal on Benny’s jacket hanging on the hook. “Oh, look who it is. The girl who’s got Benny all wrapped around her finger.”

You rolled your eyes, As if their body language and mocking tone wasn’t enough to let me know it’s me they’re talking about.

The first woman, not deterred by your lack of response, leaned in closer, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “I guess Benny’s got a real thing for you, huh? Must be nice to have him wrapped around your little finger.”

You remained silent, forcing yourself to stay calm. Their tone and invasive presence were beginning to grate on your nerves.

The second woman stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of Benny’s jacket draped over the hook. “Yeah, it’s so cute how you think you’re special just because he gave you, his jacket. Real big shot, aren’t you?”

You let out a slow, measured breath, trying to keep your composure. “Does it matter what I think?.”

You don’t want to entertain their mocking and taunting. Tonight was meant to be a nice relief from working a double shift at the diner.

The third woman scoffed, clearly not satisfied with your response. “Oh, come on. Don’t be so stuck-up. We’re just curious. How does it feel to be the center of attention all the time? Benny must really like you.”

You glanced at them through the mirror, your patience wearing thin. You turn the faucet off and flick your hands into the sink, “I’m not looking for attention. I’m just trying to enjoy my night.”

Before you could reach for a napkin to dry your hands, the first woman reached for the jacket, grabbing it with a possessive grip. “Well, if you’re not interested in talking, maybe we’ll just take this as a little souvenir.”

Your heart dropped as you stepped forward, pulling the jacket back. “Let go”

The second woman laughed mockingly; her eyes gleaming with malice. “Oh, is little miss perfect going to have a tantrum now?”

Ignoring their taunts, you tightened your grip on the jacket, trying to hold your ground. “Seriously, just leave me alone.”

But they weren’t finished. The third woman, who had been quieter but no less antagonistic, added with a smirk, “What’s the matter? Afraid we’ll mess up your perfect little night?”

As you struggled to maintain your calm, the first woman yanked on the jacket with a sudden force. You stumbled, unable to hold on as she managed to snatch it from your grasp. She slipped it on with a triumphant grin, the oversized jacket swallowing her smaller frame. Your breath hitched, a heavy feeling rising in your chest.

The sight of her parading around in Benny’s jacket, with a smirk of victory on her face, filled you with an intense pang of jealousy. It was as if the jacket, a symbol of Benny’s affection, was being flaunted in front of you, mocking your connection. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, and the rush of emotion left you feeling lightheaded.

“Hey!” you snapped, unable to keep your frustration in check. “Give that back!”

The first woman tossed her head back in a laugh, her tone dripping with contempt. “Oh, what’s the matter? Can’t handle a little competition?”

The second woman stepped closer, her gaze sharp and challenging. “Yeah, maybe you should have thought about sharing some of that attention if you didn’t want us to take it.”

You felt cornered, the oppressive weight of their taunts and the loss of Benny’s jacket making it hard to think clearly. The third woman’s smirk widened as she watched the scene unfold. “Let’s see how long you can hold onto that ‘special’ feeling now.”

The first woman adjusted the jacket with exaggerated movements, clearly relishing the impact of her actions. You could feel the jealousy burning in your chest, an almost physical ache as the unfairness of the situation hit home. Your voice trembled as you tried to regain your composure. “This isn’t funny. Just give it back.”

The women exchanged glances, clearly enjoying your distress. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the scene before you were taking its toll. The heavy feeling in your chest made it hard to think of anything else but retrieving what felt like a piece of your own happiness.

One of the women, a sneer on her lips, leaned in closer and poked your chest with a condescending finger. “Oh, what’s wrong? Did you think you’d get to keep Benny’s jacket forever? How cute.” Her tone dripped with mockery, adding to the sting of your frustration.

Before you could respond, the second woman shoved you roughly, causing you to stumble back and collide with the sink. The cold, hard surface pressed into your back, jarring and unpleasant. You winced, trying to regain your balance as the women continued their cruel game, she shoves you again, this time you slip against the tile floor. Barely managing to grip the sink, you catch yourself from a nasty fall. 

"She's turnin' red," one exclaims with a mocking grin. She pokes your shoulder insistently, "What? you gonna break now, Sunshine." 

Your nickname rolls off her tongue like a curse. Her finger presses into your shoulder with force. 

The one wearing Benny's jacket is caressing the patches with a smirk, "Maybe, I'll ask him to get me my own jacket. With his name on it."

Her comment sends you over the edge, the consistent violation of your personal space was just a bonus. You don't remember much of what happened. Your body moves on autopilot, shoving the second woman who was so insistent on violating your personal space. She stumbles back with a shocked cry. The other two have seconds to process what happens before you're lunging at the first woman, she isn't prepared for the onslaught of your frenzied fist to meet her face. Her friends try to rip you off, but it only motivates you to keep going.  Somehow your fight spills out of the bathroom and into the bar. It takes a minute for everyone to process what is happening. 

One of the women is screaming for help. Another is screaming that you bit her. But the first one, the one wearing your jacket, flaunting and taunting you is trying to get away from you. But you are relentless.

Benny gave you the jacket. He trusts you with his jacket, he invited you and made you a part of his small world. No one would take that from you, and you wouldn't stand for anyone thinking they could replace you or take him away from you. 

Benny is leaning up against the brick wall outside the bar, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the stuffy, noisy interior. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling up into the darkness as he enjoyed a rare moment of peace. The clamor of the bar was a distant hum, barely noticeable from his spot by the alley.

The warmth from the cigarette provided a brief solace as Benny savored the few minutes of solitude. He was lost in thought, reflecting on the night’s games and the wins he’d managed to rack up. The bar had been lively, the atmosphere charged with a mix of competitiveness and camaraderie. Benny was on a high, but that tranquility was abruptly shattered.

A voice called out from the bar’s entrance, breaking through his thoughts. “Hey, Benny! Your girl’s in trouble!”

Benny’s head snapped up, the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. “What?” he barked, his heart skipping a beat. The urgency in the other man’s voice made his pulse quicken. He tossed the cigarette to the ground, his eyes narrowing with concern.

"She's fighten' three women, it's gettin intense" the guy continued, his face etched with worry, "She's bleed-"

Benny doesn't wait for him to finish his sentence. He hadn't expected the night to turn out this way. He had given you the jacket as a passing thought. A hidden layer of a claim. His claim. No one with a brain should have even considered getting into it with you. 

He's pushing through the crowd; people are trying to leave some muttering about the crazy societal oddballs. Some are excited to see the bloodbath of women fighting. He locks eyes with Johnny, he waves him through, barking at everyone to back up and demanding that people exit the bar. 

Two women are gripping your hair and locking their limbs around you. You twist in their grip, your nails and teeth reaching for available skin. Your nose is bleeding and there's a visible bruise on your cheek. The fight gets intense with each passing second. No one knows how to stop it, fear of getting caught in the crosswind of flying fists and snappy teeth. 

One of the women steps away and is preparing to grab a beer bottle to smash over your head but with a chorus of "No's" some women from the bar are throwing themselves into the mix. Things only get messier and uglier as the three women's other friends step in to help. Benny isn't sure what's worse, a bunch of drunk blacked out men fighting, or a bunch of catty drunk and sober women with no qualms of using everything as a weapon. 

Benny shrugs his shoulders and tracks your figure through the mass of women fighting. Once he sees an opening, he rushes in trying to avoid shoving and hurting other women. He's reached your side, you're relentlessly hitting one woman, the same one you keep goin' back to whenever you escape someone's grasp. He's pulled you off her with a swift grip. You thrash in his arms. Elbowing him and head-butting him in the process but he refuses to let go. He's pulling you away from the fight, dodging falling bodies and high-pitched yells. 

He sets himself down at the back of the bar, near the pool tables, and roughly shoves you onto one of them. He stands directly in front of you, blocking your view of your target. Your hair is a tangled mess, your breath comes in ragged bursts, and a nasty sneer twists your face. Your eyes are wide and unfocused, and you’re swatting at him in a futile attempt to break free. He’s pinned your legs between his body and his hands grip your arms, keeping them from hitting him.

You hiss, “Let go of me.”

His voice is deep and firm, offering no room for negotiation. “No.”

You huff and relax into his hold, seething with frustration. You still haven’t gotten his jacket back, and it bothers you. Without it draped over your shoulders, you feel exposed and incomplete.

In the chaos of the club, his calm presence is oddly soothing. Johnny is shouting for everyone to leave and take their women with them. You close your eyes as Benny gently cradles your face in his hands. He tells you to take deep breaths and reassures you that he’s here and not going anywhere.

Gradually, your heartbeat slows and the adrenaline fades. After a few deep breaths, embarrassment washes over you. Your head drops, thudding softly against his chest.

You’re reluctant to face the aftermath of your reckless behavior. Your uncle will hear about the fight; he has connections at the precinct. You groan, annoyed by yet another thing he’ll use to needle you.

The sounds of the scuffle die down. Women are being dragged out of the bar, the ruckus finally subsiding.

“You calm now?” Benny’s hands smooth over your hair as he holds you against his chest. His gaze shifts to the bar, watching as women are escorted out. He notices one still holding onto his jacket, with only one shoulder slipped out of the sleeve.

He gives Betty, who stands nearby with a concerned look, a nod. She spots the jacket and, after a brief, understanding glance at Benny, moves forward to retrieve it for you.

You hum in response, your frustration clear. “I wanna go home,” you murmur.

A teasing smile plays on Benny’s lips as he lifts your chin to meet his gaze. “Too much excitement?”

His blue eyes hold a mixture of teasing and concern. Despite the ongoing chaos around you, he’s focused on grounding you in the present with his attention. You puff your cheeks and nod, giving him a slightly contrite, yet endearing look.

Benny’s gaze softens. He watches as Betty returns with the jacket and places it beside you before slipping away quietly. Benny picks up the jacket and drapes it over your shoulders with a gentle, comforting gesture.

Just then, Johnny pushes through the remaining crowd, his expression grim. He strides over to Benny and leans in close, speaking in a low, urgent tone. “The cops have been called. You need to get her out of here before they show up.”

Benny’s face tightens into a determined frown. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. “Alright, let’s go,” he says, his voice steady and reassuring.

He leads you through the thinning crowd and out of the club, moving quickly but carefully towards his bike. The cool night air greets you as you step outside, offering a refreshing contrast to the club’s stifling atmosphere.

Benny walks you over to his motorcycle, parked a short distance away. He adjusts the jacket around you for warmth before settling into place. He climbs onto the bike first and then extends a strong hand to help you up. “Come on,” he says, his voice firm but gentle.

You take his hand, feeling the steady grip as he helps you onto the bike behind him. With a reassuring nod, he starts the engine. The low rumble vibrates through you, creating a soothing backdrop against the night’s chaos.

The ride is quick but steady, the city lights blurring past as you make your way home. When you arrive, Benny parks the motorcycle and helps you off, his hand steadying you as you dismount. He walks you to your front door, his concern evident in every gesture.

Inside, the warmth of your home wraps around you, a stark contrast to the night’s earlier chaos. As you step into the familiar space, you notice how much more welcoming it feels now. The house, which had seemed so cold and uninviting during the first month of your move back into your mother’s childhood home, now feels surprisingly warm and comforting.

Benny has been more than just a ride home. He’s helped you tackle the cluttered boxes that had piled up in the living room since you moved in. His hands were steady and capable as he helped you sort through the remnants of your past life. He even took the time to fix the built-in bookcase that your mother used to fawn over on winter nights. The bookcase, once a broken relic, now stood proud and sturdy, its shelves ready to hold the memories and stories of your family once more.

Benny heads into your kitchen with a familiarity that seems almost natural. He quickly gets the kettle ready for hot tea, moving around your kitchen with an ease that belies the night’s earlier chaos. He opens your favorite tea tin—spicy chamomile and cinnamon—and carefully measures out the fragrant leaves. The comforting aroma starts to fill the room, blending with the soothing warmth of the space.

As he waits for the water to boil, Benny returns to you. He sits down next to you on the couch, his large, comforting hands finding yours. His touch is warm and steady, a tangible reassurance amid the lingering tension of the night. He tilts his head slightly to look at you, his eyes soft and filled with genuine concern.

“You’re safe now,” he says gently, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. “Don’t worry about the cops or the aftermath of tonight.”

His eyes, though tired, hold a depth of understanding and care. They offer a silent promise that, despite the chaos of the evening, you are not alone. His presence, practical and grounded, serves as a reminder that things will be taken care of.

The warmth from the kitchen, combined with Benny’s reassuring presence, makes the house feel like a sanctuary—a stark contrast to the cold, unwelcoming atmosphere you first encountered. The night’s upheaval fades into the background, replaced by a sense of calm and security, anchored by Benny’s steadfast support.

A few moments later, Benny leads you to the dining table. The comforting aroma of spicy chamomile and cinnamon mingles with the warmth of the space, offering a soothing respite from the night’s chaos. He sets the cup in front of you with a gentle touch and a reassuring nod before heading toward the bathroom down the hall and across the kitchen. 

You hear the faint rustling of drawers and the clinking of the first aid kit as Benny retrieves it from where you keep it on hand. When he returns, he moves with a quiet purpose, his demeanor a blend of practical efficiency and deep concern.

He kneels down before you, his large hands working with a steady, careful precision as he begins to tend to your cuts and welts. His touch is gentle yet confident, each movement calculated to minimize discomfort and maximize healing. As he cleans and bandages each wound, his eyes remain fixed on you, filled with a depth of understanding and care that speaks volumes without a word.

His gaze, though weary from the night’s events, is soft and compassionate. There is a silent promise in his eyes—an assurance that, despite the chaos and the bruises, you are not alone. His presence is both practical and grounding, a calming anchor amidst the turmoil. The care he provides is more than just physical; it’s a reminder that everything will be alright, that he’s here to handle the aftermath and ensure you’re taken care of.

The steady rhythm of his movements, the gentle pressure of his hands, and the occasional reassuring glance all contribute to a sense of calm. In this quiet moment, as he tends to your injuries, Benny’s presence offers a comforting certainty. You feel the weight of the night’s chaos begin to lift, replaced by a profound sense of security and gratitude. His actions reassure you that, no matter how tumultuous things get, you have someone by your side who truly cares and will help you navigate through it all.

Taglist: @storiesfromafan @aleemendoza2425-blog , @preciouslilmonster , @iamaslytherin0

[elliezlils11utt]

Heyy, love your writing! <3 I'm not sure if you've written about this before, but can I request needy and whiny Ellie accidentally discovering she has a mommy kink? (during sex she it just slips) and reader teasing her about it, poor baby :( I just know Ellie started calling her gf mommy, mama or mami as a joke...until it wasn't a joke anymore 😌

A/N: first of all, thank you so much😭💕 and omg yes? this is goals. I have never written whiney ellie b4 so let’s see how this goes lmfao. (sorry if this kinds sucks ass😔)

summary: the ask in a nutshell.

parings: whinysub!ellie & dom!reader

W/C : around 600

content warning: (NSFW !!) degrading praise? (“pretty slut, sweetheart, baby”) ellie calls reader mommy ovi.

els: mamaaaa, wya?

els: i miss youuuu

Y/n: mama huh?

els: yah it’s my new nickname 4 u.

y/n: alr els😭

y/n: I’ll be there soon baby dw. you can wait a little longer for mama, yeah?

els: BDJSNDJSHDBSBH?!

y/n: see u soon baby.

your pretty sure that’s when you found out Ellie had a mommy kink. her reaction totally gave it away. so when she called you mommy in bed you played along.

you had her dicked down on the bed. holding her thighs over your shoulders while she gripped onto the sheets on her back. your cock pounded into Ellie while your hand roamed her body.

“awah, is my baby crying?? feels so good, don’t it sweetheart?” you coo mocking your cock drunk girlfriend under you. she looks so needy like this. her eyes rolled back into her skull, fluttering open every once and a while to watch you split her open on your cock. her auburn hair sticks to her forehead, sticky with sweat. she would whimper incoherent please. she wasn’t even sure what she was asking for. she just wanted more. and she was all for you.

“y-yess. please. faster mommy !!” the name caught you off guard. stoping your unforgiving thrusts into her. you smirk, bending over to kiss her sweaty forehead.

“call me that again.” you growl into her neck when you continue to slam into ellies pretty little cunt. your arm reaches around her leg and you play with her puffy clit. rubbing tight circles around her pussy. or as tight as you could get them while the bass of the strap was rubbing against your clit so deliciously. you pound into her pussy harder. hitting a deeper spot then before. Ellie groans, her mouth falling agap at the new angle. her perky tits jiggle with every thrust.

“did you not, fuck, did you not fucking hear me? I said call me that again, or I stop.” your merciless pace made her head foggy. barely comprehending what you were saying. poor baby:( you slow your thrusts, bottoming out in ellie. you just sit there inside of her till she notices the stop. She catches her breath. huffing in between whines.

“w-why’d you stop?” she try’s to slide herself father into your dick, rutting her hips closer to yours.

“need you to call me mommy again, baby.”

“mommy please, please let me cum.”

and at her word your pace regains speed.

“y’like calling me mommy. isn’t that right my pretty slut? you like when mommy fucks you shitless?” she nods her head aimlessly and you swear you see drool pouring from the side of her mouth when you start to rub her clit again. her whines reverbing off the walls, sounding like music to your ears.

“yeah I know you do, been wanting to call me mommy for a while now haven’t you sweetheart?” your words tip her over the edge as she cums all over your dick. you fuck her through her orgasm, drawing long whines from her pretty little lips. normally she would scream your name while she cums, but today she called you something different.

“mommy- fuck, mo-mommyyyy” she chanted that name so damn much it ain’t even seem like a word anymore. eventually your thrusts slows down as she shakes underneath you.

“I’m goin pull out now, okay baby?” her fucked out little expression can’t form words as she gives a weak thumbs up. cute loserrr.

A/N: I wrote this super quick but it was fun! I’m trying to have more fun when writing bc I used to think of it as something I needed to be perfect at but that wasn’t getting me no where lmfao. SEND ME ASSKKKKS !! love yall 🩷

[arcaneauthor]

changbin version of cute things he does as your bf?

Cute things Changbin does as your bf

Pairing: Seo Changbin x reader

Warnings: just Binnie being so adorable it’ll make your heart hurt cause you can’t have him irl😔

Tags: established relationship, fluff, like so much fluff

Authors note: ask and you shall receive😌 Also this has been so fun and has really gotten me back into the writing spirit🥰 Pls feel free to send me requests! It helps to keep me motivated!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Lays his head in your lap while y’all are chilling on the couch

If you tease him a lot (especially if it’s about his height) he just picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. “Binnie! Binnie let me down!” “Nope, not until you apologize” but it just ends up with the two of you laughing your heads off.

Likes to go to the gym with you, sometimes he’ll even bench press you instead of weights lol

Does aegyo to try to get his way. “Come on pleaseeeee” *activates bby changbin* “You know that doesn’t work on me” *activates sad bby face* “okay fine”

he jokingly moans and groans when you wear thick soled shoes or heels. “Yah! As if I didn’t look short enough already”

Blushes so hard at pda. Go give him a kiss on the cheek in front of the members if you want to see him turn into a tomato

Although he’s usually very loud, and he still can be sometimes in excitable situations, he’s usually pretty quiet and docile around you. He’s just enjoys the quiet intimacy of just being in your presence. likes to just quietly cuddle with you while listening to you talk about your day.

Gives you massages if you’ve had a hard day. (And why do I feel like they’d be the best massages too) for such a buff man he’s got such a gentle touch

Brings you home flowers a lot. Doesn’t matter how far into the relationship you are or how long you’ve been dating, he’ll always buy you flowers periodically to make you feel special.

Ik I used this for Chan’s but HAND ON THIGH AT ALL TIMES WHILE DRIVING. (Didn’t you see that video where he asked hyunjin to hold his hands cause he didn’t like them feeling empty while driving?)

Gives a bunch of nose kisses

If you two argue he’s always the first to come apologize and want to talk it out. And he’d be such a good listener

Calls you at random times of the day while at work just cause he misses you

If you gush about how good your new book is to him he’ll go buy himself a copy just so the two of you can read it together and have something to talk about/ bond over (as a book fanatic the idea of a man doing this for me is just-🤤)