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ddejavvu · 1 year

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could you do a spencer x daughter reader comfort for grade stress? my grades are a lot lower than normal and i feel awful :(

you’re an amazing writer much love <3

'$20 and a completely unabridged gossip session about my love life if you can hack into my school's system and change my grades...'

'Baby genius!' Penelope scolds, in response to what you personally believe was a very fair and enticing offer, 'I can't! I don't do bad hacking anymore, I only do the good kind :)'

'It would be good for me to not have these grades.' You type back, smearing an exasperated hand over your face. You swear you nearly drag your skin right off, and you consider attempting to do so, maybe you wouldn't have to go to school anymore if you were just a skeleton-face.

'I'm sure you're freaking out over nothing, wonder baby,' Penelope responds, full of all of her usual optimism that sickens you now, 'You of all people don't need to be worrying about your grades.'

She's wrong. Now you do, now your grades have inexplicably taken a nosedive, dropping into uncharted territory. With a father that attended college at the ripe age of twelve, you feel severely disappointing. You're not following in his footsteps, you've lost the outline of his sneakers and you're traipsing through mud trying to locate them aagin.

You don't bother responding; you're not even sure what you'd say. You don't even consider the ramifications of her saying no to your scheme, being that the world's biggest gossip knows you're upset about your grades and she's not bound to confidentiality by any suspicious illegal activity.

Which means that when your dad gets home, he heads straight for your room.

"Hi, angel," Spencer leans down to hug you over the back of your desk chair, dropping a kiss to the crown of your head. It's the same kiss he's planted on you every day since you came into the world, "Penelope said you're having school trouble?"

Your stomach drops and you groan, "That snitch."

"Hey!' Spencer scoffs, "She's the one that always spoils your birthday presents 'cause you give her puppy eyes. You use her poor secret-keeping abilities to your benefit just as much as the rest of us."

"It's nothing," You're still glancing blankly at your homework, keeping your eyes away from your dad so that you don't have to see his face. You try to brush him off before he directly asks what your grades are, "I'm just having a bad week or something."

"A bad week doesn't impact your grades that much," Spencer hums suspiciously, "And your teacher doesn't even put in grades until the week after you submit assignments, so this week being bad wouldn't have changed your grade yet. What's really going on?"

"I don't know," You confess, and you're glad he understands it's the truth and not another half-hearted excuse. He catches the wavering in your voice and knows you're being honest with him, and he can practically feel the cartoonish crack running down his heart, splitting it in two.

"Alright," He soothes, setting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing at its tense muscles lightly, "We'll figure it out. I'll help you, okay?"

"I don't want your help," You lament, tears stinging painfully at your eyes, "You- you know everything, and I don't want to hear how many times you have to correct me. I don't want to see what I should be while being reminded that I'm not."

There's a long bout of silence where your dad's hand lingers on your shoulder, the only reminder that he's still there. It's like he's stopped breathing altogether, air caught in his throat as his brain tries coming up with a solution.

"I don't want you to be like me." He confesses, and the tears stay in place at the corners of your eyes, waiting for a cue to fall.

"I'm... It was hard growing up and being different. It's hard now being different. Morgan still scoffs whenever I talk too much, and we've been friends for years. JJ cuts me off every time I go on a tangent. People aren't nice to anyone who's different."

"But that doesn't matter," You whimper, hands flying to your face to push against your eyelids like you could squeeze your tears back inside, "You aced classes, you got into college super young, you got a high profile job, you're successful, and-"

"-and if I had to choose one thing about my life to carry over into the next, none of those would be it." Your dad cuts you off, moving to pry your hands away from your eyes. He smooths his thumbs over your eyelids, softening the sting from your aggressive touches.

"Y/N," He starts, honey-colored eyes dripping with love as he stares at you from his spot perched on your bed, "All the knowledge in the world doesn't make you happy. Knowing what chemicals are attributed to love doesn't mean you feel it. Knowing what poets have written about love doesn't mean you get to experience it for yourself. I don't want you to know everything," He explains, drying a tear with the cuff of his shirt sleeve, "I want you to be happy, to be loved. And you are smart," He promises, "-just because you don't understand the material you're getting, or you aren't doing your homework, or you're overloaded with assignments so that your grades drop doesn't mean you're not smart."

"Dad," Your face crumples, your eyes squeezing shut tight as tears drip from their corners. He guides you into his embrace with a hand on the back of your head and you let him control where your weight lands, slumping into his stomach pitifully.

He rubs down your back with his free hand, letting the one shelter your face against his button-up.

"I love you," He murmurs, and you can feel the vibrations of his voice through his chest. You press your ear into it, so your brain soaks up the words, "Even if you're having trouble memorizing the..." He peers down at your paper, "-amendments to the Constitution. Okay, well, you really should know those. We'll work on it, honey."

"Okay," You can't help the weak laugh that shakes your shoulders at his reaction, and he smiles sweetly down at you when you break away, not an ounce of judgement in his eyes that are twinkling with fondness instead.

"Now," He pats your back, straightening up from where he'd been slightly hunched over to rub soothing circles into the fabric of your shirt, "Let's talk about how you're encouraging Penelope to commit cyber crimes for you."

"Uh," You grimace, glancing back quickly at your revision sheet, "I plead the... fifth?"

"That's-" Spencer looks away, biting his lip to conceal his laugh, "That's good. That's bad, don't do that. But that's good. You know number five. That's a start."

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cvntrlseecvntrlvee · 2 months

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home is where the heart is

↠ pairing: wonwoo x reader ↠ genres: fluff ↠ word count: 900~ ↠ a/n: thinking abt bestfriend!wonwoo today 🥺 also ty to @hannieween who always reads all the little drabbles i type into her inbox, that’s how we ended up with this. she also helped write part of it, the an at the bottom will explicitly say which bits!! hope you guys like it uwu

bestfriend!wonwoo who keeps you company after your break up with your shitty ex boyfriend.

bestfriend!wonwoo who lets you lean on his shoulder while you guys watch the latest episode of bake off and you’re ugly crying with a tub of ur favourite ice cream.

how he tries to distract you the next day by inviting you to play mario party because some of the boys are over and he doesn't want you to wallow in your room by yourself.

the way, after the boys leave, he takes you into his arms while on the couch and letting you snuggle into the warmth of his chest as you sniffle a little. wonwoo smells like fresh laundry and he rubs a comforting hand up and down your back.

to you, wonwoo was home.

this is basically yours and wonwoo’s dynamic haha.

and he would never admit it out loud, but he honestly loves it. he loves as you ramble mindlessly, asking him pointless questions about nothing and everything at all. he remains quiet, but every now and then he’ll say is that so? setting you off on another tangent.

you laugh at your own jokes, which makes him laugh as well. it's the kind of laugh that makes his nose scrunch and makes him push the rim of his glasses up a bit.

and when ur away for the weekend, visiting ur parents, and wonu is home alone, the silence is deafening, and he misses you.

he misses you during breakfast, how you'd grumble about having to go to work and rant about the woes of capitalism and the five day work week.

he misses you when he's rewatching the previous episode of bake off on the cold couch alone, and how you'd be telling him about the history of shortbread and something about an alliance between scotland and france.

he misses you when he's out walking the dog after dinner and how you'd be talking his ear off about every little thing that happened to you that day, in chronological order.

wonwoo's life is quiet and greyscale when you're not there and he misses the colour of your laugh and your smile and the sound of your voice.

one night, he finally convinces you to go out to the movies with him. you've been feeling better lately, and you can't remember the last time you cried about your ex.

he buys you the biggest tub of popcorn, making sure the worker slathers it with extra extra butter (even though he knows its gonna give him a tummy ache later). and he watches you fondly as you try to choose between the buncha crunch or mike and ikes (his two favourites) before settling on both.

he also gets you a cola slushie, but your hands get cold from holding the cup, making you clasp them together between your thighs when you finally go to sit down, and he wishes, god how he wishes, he could just grab your hands to warm them up a bit.

you guys decide to see the latest action movie, a genre which you love, but sometimes you can't handle the blood and gore that comes with it. so when the bad guy's about to get sliced to hell, wonwoo quickly throws his hand up to cover your eyes.

you grab his hands to move it away because im a big girl, wonu, i can handle a little blood (except your pants are on fire and you absolutely cannot) but he knows this and does not budge.

and when the scene is finally over and he moves his hand away from your face, you're still holding on to it, not letting go

wonwoo sends you a look but you've got ur eyes glued to the movie, as if holding his hand is a normal occurance (it's not) and you're not freaking out like wonwoo currently is (you are, in fact, freaking the fuck out).

wonwoo settles back in his seat, loving the way your hands feel around his and laces his fingers with yours. you keep his hand in your lap, squeezing everytime sometimes stressful or surprising happens on screen and wonwoo rubs back and forth on the back of your hand when you do.

when the movies over, you still don't let go of his hand, and neither does he. not when you’re picking up ur bag to sling over your shoulder, not when he's picking up the empty food boxes to throw away, and not when you're walking home together in the cool of the night, as you rehash the movie ending, swinging your hands between you when you get a little too excited with your theories

you're both still unwilling to let go of each other's hands when you make it back to your shared apartment, as wonwoo keys in the door code, and it isn't until you're in the hallway, in front of your two bedroom doors, that you realise neither of you want to ever let go.

so you don't.

you let wonwoo hold onto you tightly while you tell him you had a lot of fun tonight and he replies saying he always has fun when he's with you. and you get on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek, both of your cheeks warming up.

and it isn't until then that wonwoo let's go of your hand, choosing to instead grab your face with both of his and leaning down to kiss you sweetly

wonwoo tastes like a mix of movie theater butter, fruity candy and salted chocolate.

and best of all, wonwoo tastes like home.

a/n: this is my first time writing something in this sort of format! let me know what you think!! also the first part aboutt he rambling and the bit aboutt he cola slushie are courtesy of v, she's really fab and you all should go read her writing 👀👀👀

here are some lil extra bits that i didn't put into the drabble but i still think are cute to think abt hehe

gif 1 by @jeonsupershy // this wonu when he finally gets the girl he's loved all his life

gif 2 by @meowonhao-main // this wonu when you shyly nod yes to wonu asking you out to a real dinner date

this wonu (yes, im obsessed w this photo leave me alone) when you climb into his lap to snuggle after a really shitty day at work

this wonu when you whine that his kisses are too sweet and you want him to kiss you like a man

this wonu when he's about to ask you to marry him and legally be stuck w his loser gamer ass for the rest of ur life

u when u say yes because he's YOUR loser gamer ass and u love him so SO much 🥺🥺🥺

#seventeen fic #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo fanfic #writing #mine #title: home is where the heart is #author: cvntrlseecvntrlvee #band: svt #member: wonwoo

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waklman · 10 months

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In The Stands

summary: bradley makes sure you know that you're his biggest fangirl.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x female reader.

warnings: no use of y/n. fluff, mentions of sex. bradley is a biter idc!! 18+ blog in general.

olympic swimmer au

take your marks masterlist.

While you would love to say that you were Bradley’s biggest fan, you were well aware that it was a title you had to earn rather than be automatically granted as his girlfriend.

Though you had to admit, it was definitely a struggle to stay afloat in the rocky waters comprised of Bradley's fangirls. After all, they were always a bit extreme when it came to exhausting their free time towards deep-diving into your boyfriend’s life.

The unwavering adoration they had for their favorite swimmer propelled them to know even the most obscure details about him—from which energy drinks he chugged before a medley to which brand of underwear he wore.

Anyone would have fallen to your knees like you did after finding out other girls knew of your boyfriend’s love for Calvin Klein.

So what better way to take your righteous title as his number one fan from under their noses, than to corner the athlete after practice—demand said athlete to surrender unfounded information about himself—and transcribe every single word that leaves his mouth right into your notes app.

Rest assured, Bradley was more than pleased to have you perched on his muscled thigh while he was drying off on the rest bench. Enough so, that he started to run a line of kisses from your shoulder up to the familiar spot behind your ear as he diligently attends to your flurry of questions.

“If you could switch bodies with anyone for a day, who would it be? And what would be the first thing you do?” You make sure to specify, thumbs eagerly hovering over your phone’s keyboard.

“Easy, Seresin. And I’d hop out the nearest window,” he quietly hums, trailing his nose along your shoulder blade before capturing a piece of your flesh between his teeth, out of boredom.

Too engrossed with the task at hand, his actions all go unnoticed by you. Luckily for Bradley, the rest of his team coming up for air at the starting blocks are also oblivious to it.

“…Seresin,” you absentmindedly mutter to yourself, eyes searching for ‘S’ on your keyboard. Hearing that, Bradley’s mouth latches onto an untouched spot near your pulse.

Instead of acknowledging the intentional nip, you hastily pound the backspace button to correct your misspell of ‘nearest window’ with a huff.

About twenty minutes into your interrogation, the frustration stitching your brows together gradually lets up with Bradley’s cooperation. And between each question, the swimmer leans back, face glowing with a grin as he surveys the marks scattered across the right side of your neck.

Readjusting yourself in his lap, you let out a relieved breath. “Okay, last one. What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re bored?”

Bradley smiles against the curve of your neck, sheepish response weighing down his tongue. “M’ not sure if you wanna know my answer to that sweetheart.”

Stuck in interviewer mode, the insinuation goes flying right over your head and you twist your neck to shoot him an offended look.

“Yes I do! Did you know your fans on twitter have baby pictures of you that I haven’t even seen before?! I’m like, the worst fan ever!” You complain, accidentally veering off on a tangent.

At the mention of your rank in his fanbase, Bradley sighs, playful expression fading from his face. “Bubbles, is that what this is all about?”

Instead of answering him, you quietly remain seated on his leg like some empty ventriloquist doll, wooden legs stiffly hung over his knee and hinged mouth clamped shut because that’s exactly what this is all about.

Taking the nervous dart of your eyes into account, Bradley pries your fingers off your overheated phone, dropping it inside the mesh swim bag by his feet.

Sometimes, Bradley forgets that you’re unaware of his disinterest for things like that—the special attention from journalists, the throng of girls gathered outside venues to see him, and the endless clamoring for his signature. Because a part of him assumed that you already knew that.

It was in moments where his head broke the surface of the water, that Bradley knew he never needed fulfillment from other people—not when he instinctively searched for your proud face in the stands, rather than checking his own team’s placement on the scoreboard.

Turning you in his lap to face him, Bradley leans in to kiss your nose, making it scrunch under contact. “I don’t know why you think you got competition. I’m pretty sure you’re the only girl I take up to my room after a win,” he lightly teases, poking your shoulder.

Slowly, a shy smile makes its way to your face. “I’d hope that I’m the only one. If not, we're gonna have some problems,” you playfully warn, kicking his ankle.

“Uh oh. We might have some problems on our hands,” Bradley shrugs, struggling to contain his laugh in his throat.

“Hey! That’s—that’s not funny,” you break out into a fit of giggles, prompting him to join you with a slap to his bare chest.

With you bending forward to simmer your laughter, Bradley takes the chance to extend his arm back into his bag, plucking your phone from the mess of swim caps and snacks.

All you do is confusingly look on as he types in your passcode, large thumb swerving to open the camera app.

“What are you—”

The words instantly die on your tongue when he flips your phone, and you notice the litter of bite marks on your neckline.

“You did not!” You shriek, hand flying to touch your bruised skin in disbelief.

“Oh but I did Bubbles, for my biggest fan,” he settles with a shameless grin, clicking the side of the device to snap a picture.

note: i will say although i sprinkle random swimming analogies in all the fics for this au i had the most fun doing it here hehe. as always, thank you for reading, and reblog are greatly appreciated!

join the taglist for this series here or follow me on @waklman-library and turn on notifs to be notified when i post!

tags: @Genius2050@eli2447 @katieshook02 @mak-32 @domeafavour505 @s-u-t @averyhotchner @et-homephone @sgt-barnesveins @olymosity @wkndwlff @diorrfairy @cruelmissdior @eternallyvenus @laneylovesglen @queerqueenlynn @taytaylala12 @sushiwriterhere @ravenhood2792 @Natdrunk @theweekndhistorybook @goosterroose @Moon42flight

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gorygurl · 1 year

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smoking weed with the proxies headcanons !! (๑´ㅂ`๑)

notes: first blog post !! ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎⊹ i hope you all enjoy my content, and i cant wait to keep sharing my work with you all !!

warnings/disclaimers: drug use, implied romantic relationships/feelings.

toby !!

toby mellows out like nothing you've ever seen when he's high, truly.

doesn't take him too long to get high; after a few good puffs and a few good coughs, he's usually already past a buzz.

toby talks a lot when he's high and honestly prefers when whoever he's with does the same.

considering how talkative and "in your face" he usually is, it's a comfortable middle ground for him when he's high.

can't usually reach it when he's sober.

he's never one to turn down a smoke. ever.

hence why you two smoke so often in the first place.

blows his own hit into your mouth all the time.

(you taught him that)

gets the munchies soo bad.

you and him go back to the mansion with pink, half-lidded eyes and start opening kitchen cabinets every other day.

instead of asking to wake and bake with you, he's more inclined to go smoke in the dead of night.

he's woken you up oh so many times to smoke at 4am.

to be fair, a lot of the time, it's after a mission. so regardless, you groggily point to your tray and pj's, to which he brings both to you in bed :).

everything is terribly funny to you two when you guys are high.

everyone in the mansion can smell and hear you two.

hoodie !!

if any of the proxies smoke, it's hoodie.

and if any of them were to have weed on them, it's hoodie.

token stoner of the proxies, truly.

isn't a lightweight solely based on experience.

you'll have to roll a couple when you smoke with hoodie.

enough to make sure you two are high and a couple more just to push the envelope.

more of a listener than a talker when he smokes.

he'll nod through puffs and give you small noises of affirmations as you speak, but isn't inclined to go on his own tangents.

knows enough spots to take you to a new one every day if he so pleased.

will always laugh a little harder at your jokes.

you two always find an excuse to sneak away and smoke one together.

so much that it's practically a form of quality time for guys now.

sparks you up whenever he can. it's one of his biggest forms of flattery <3.

exceedingly knowledgeable on strains, so both of you tend to talk about what you like to smoke.

masky !!

masky doesn't smoke too often, to be quite honest.

but fuck does he have a high tolerance.

unlike toby, he's relatively far from being a lightweight.

it takes him about 3 or 4 joints to ease into a really good high.

he honestly runs hoodie for his money. he could smoke him out without even realizing it.

so, of course, you were absolutely fucking appalled when you went to roll another after having just smoked 3 back to back with him.

he admires that you try and keep up, though.

while he doesn't prefer to dominate the conversation when he's smoking, he definitely likes to talk.

loves smoking early in the morning. tempt him with a cup of coffee and a j, and he's aaaall yours.

he always lets you finish whatever is left, out of both courtesy and affection.

masky likes the intimacy of having his own spots, but he's taken you with him plenty of times, as you've done with him.

prefers sativa.

(it's the easiest way for him to be high on a mission.)

after almost every mission, you two will trail off into the woods, one of you already pulling out a lighter.

#ticci toby x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #creepypasta #x reader #creepypasta x reader #gn reader #headcanon #creepypasta x y/n #proxies #marble hornets

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ghostyv · 10 months

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I wanna talk about something real quick.

Ok warning I go off on a tangent about fanon legend.

TLDR:Legend isn’t a prick; he’s just jaded, his teasing is from a place of love, and the “rivalry” between him and wars is brotherly and legend is actually extremely compassionate, people just take one small trait and act like it’s the entire personality.

People love to act like Legend’s such a major prick but when you reread LU, he’s really not. Legend’s actually pretty nice. Yeah you can call back to when sky talked about how he doesn’t pay much attention to his attitude, i get that—he doesn’t pay much attention, but he’s not as big a prick as his fanon version suggests. I noticed this when I was watching those LU as tiktoks/vines/random vids on my phone videos on YouTube. Legend’s always made out to be the world’s biggest douche to Wars and yeah I get it’s exaggerated but it’s made out like they hate each other. They don’t in the slightest. I’ve seen genuine siblings who act worse to each other—firsthand. I’m the eldest in my sibling group and have two younger brothers who show no mercy to neither each other nor me, I’ve been insulted by them more than anyone. Legend loves these guys. I think the only reason he can sometimes act like a jerk is one, he doesn’t notice it and two, he most likely tries to keep everyone at arms length because he’s lost people close to him and doesn’t want to go through that again. He’s not some shallow prick—he cares deeply. Take for example in the comic about mipha’s diary. Wild says “I know you love to tease” tease implies just joking around, for one, and two when wild tells him it was Mipha’s, Legend says “ ‘was,’ sorry to hear that” and wild tries to brush it off and he goes “no, i really mean it. I’m sorry to hear that.”

It brings wild some solace. Legend knows loss and he’s not heartless. He knows where people’s limits are and teases lovingly—for some people that’s a love language. My cousin and his best friend are like that, they tease relentlessly but know it’s all out of love. Another instance—legend and Hyrule seem to be two of the closest out of the group. He’s protective over him and a direct call to that is when they were fighting the shadow and Hyrule tries to jump in the fight and Legend grabs his arm

The point to this entire post is that Legend’s only trait isn’t that he’s some prick. He’s so much more complex than that. His teasing is from a place of love, he doesn’t hate Wars like fanon would suggest and honestly their “rivalry”(and it’s a stretch to call it that) is brotherly if anything and his sourness would mainly be an attempt to keep folks at arms length because he doesn’t want to be hurt again.

#I am the number one Legend defender #if he has no fans I am dead #good lord have mercy #bee buzzes #about linked universe #linked universe #legend lu #legend linked universe #lu legend #long post

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collisvng · 3 months

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CHAPTER 2 | THE MEANING OF PAS DE DEUX

THE END ZONE 🏈🩰✨

Pairing 🤎 Seo Changbin x Fem! Reader︎

Genre 🤎 SMAU, University/College AU, Ballett/Football AU, Fluff, Angst, Crack—all of that good shit lol︎

Synopsis 🤎 By recommendation of his coach, Changbin decides to take a ballet class in order to improve his agility and coordination on the field. It seems like a harmless and fun activity at first. But what happens when his ballet partner starts to make him choose between the two?

Warnings 🤎 Slight swearing, brief mention of food, Felix being annoying (but we love him tho lol)

Taglist 🤎 Open!︎ ✨

Word Count 🤎 2,173 + 10 sm screenshots!

In Collaboration With 🤎 @channie-143

✨️MASTERLIST✨️

THE UNIVERSITY’S FOOTBALL FIELD WAS THE LAST PLACE YOU EVER EXPECTED TO FIND YOURSELF.

After being given very specific instructions to go through a specific way that led you specifically to the perfect spot on the bleachers for you to be easily noticed—courtesy of Felix who totally isn’t the university’s mascot—you found yourself setting your bag next to you as you sat down to watch the boys do their thing.

It was strange being there. You never considered yourself a sports person and knew quite little about anything to do with the sort. The most experience you ever had with even just the topic of sports being brought up was the few times Seungmin would go on one of his little tangents about baseball. There were also the few times Felix would slip up about football, but it was never prominent enough for you to take notice of.

Legs crossed, phone in hand, you stayed in your spot hoping for someone to say something about your presence. After a while, a few guys on the field started to look your way. Most looked confused while others almost seemed as if they were trying to show off. You didn’t see Changbin though. Or at least you couldn’t make out which guy was him.

After Felix’s 5th wrap-around of the field (ignoring you while doing so, I might add) and noticing your phone battery was at a lower percentage than you expected, you almost decided to give up.

It wasn’t until you heard a slight nasally yell followed by a giggly chuckle that you finally spotted the man.

He ran across the field to promptly smack one of his teammates for messing around and teasing him about his height. He started yelling. Curly black hair fell into his eyes as he took his helmet off, continuing his scolding. His incessant bickering was abnormally adorable to you.

And the laugh that left his teammates’ mouth was lighthearted and cheerful… and almost strangely familiar.

It was around this time you started to notice all eyes were on you except Changbin’s. You debated calling for him, but your actions swayed when you noticed one of his other teammates waving at you. He was somewhat taller, his hair was dark and short, and he had what you could only describe as the nose of a Greek god. The guy nodded in your direction as if to ask why you were there, to which you responded with a quick point in Changbin’s direction and exaggeratingly mouthing his name.

A quick, “Oh, okay!” was mouthed to you in response alongside him giving you a thumbs up.

The teammate walked over Changbin amidst his rant and tapped him on the shoulder. He seemed annoyed, probably assuming he was simply about to be told to quit fighting. It wasn’t until his teammate pointed to you standing up from your seat with a shy smile on your face did his expression suddenly change into the biggest grin you had ever seen.

He jogged over in your direction with his helmet under his arm as you made your way down the bleachers. When you reached the bottom, you gripped the handrail barrier separating you from the field. One of your knees rested against one of the smaller beams of the railing as you leaned forward with anticipation.

The moment a small ‘hi’ left his lips, the happiness embedded in your nervous system was hard to hide.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” He questioned, raising his brow. “I didn’t really take you as a sports-type.”

“That would be correct,” you nodded. “Which is why I am not here for sports…”

You quickly unlocked your phone and held it out to him, leaning into the railing a bit more for support.

“… I’m here for you.”

Changbin stood there dumbfounded. He just stared down at your screen as if the concept of giving a girl his number was the most foreign thing in the world to him. His grip on his helmet grew tighter as he let out the most tense laugh in the universe. It became obvious to you that this ordeal seemed completely different to you then it was to him.

“Oh my gosh, stop overreacting.” The roll of your eyes came out a little less playful then you had hoped. “It’s not like I’m asking you out or anything, okay? I’m just asking for your number because we agreed I would catch you up on stuff for class.”

He nervously nodded as he took your phone in hand.

“Right, yeah, I knew that…”

As he proceeded to put his number in your phone, you looked off into the distance to see the teammate he was yelling at previously staring at you as if you seemed familiar to him; akin to the way you looked back at him.

“That guy you were talking to looks familiar.”

“Oh, Jeongin?” Changbin handed you the phone back.

“Ah, that name sounds familiar…” You nodded. “I think he’s friends with my friend Seungmin.”

“We all kinda know Seungmin,” he shrugged in response. “Since he’s also in charge of the sports section for the school paper, we see him a lot.”

“Makes sense.”

After a bit of awkward small talk, the two of you concluded that you would reserve a room in the dance hall over the weekend. You’d go over the basics he needed to know before the next class, and if he had any questions that needed extensive explanation you promised you’d answer them.

He walked back to his teammates with a cheeky grin as they all began asking him questions about who you were and why you had given him your phone. It amused you to see the group of men all huddled up together like a bunch of high schoolers spilling rumors to each other.

Hearing them faintly ask who the pretty girl was…

It strangely gave you a boost of confidence.

As you grabbed your things and began to exit, you gave a quick wave to your roommate. He waved back for a brief moment, dropping his facade for what seemed like a mili-second before halting and turning to walk away.

“You can’t ignore me forever!” You yelled after him. “We all know you’re the mascot Felix!”

He held onto the mascot head for dear life as he began picking up his pace. Suddenly, he was sprinting.

“NO YOU DON’T! ”

The first class of the next week seemed to go well.

Changbin had picked up on things quite quickly, which impressed you.

He obviously wasn’t going to become a dance prodigy overnight, but he did good with the basic exercises and was fairly good at keeping you level while on pointe.

There was a lot less dropping with him then there was when Han was your partner. And in all honesty, that was all you could ever ask for.

You found yourself laughing here and there whenever Changbin would mess up slightly, giving him encouraging words that he would get it right the second time. And thankfully, you’d be right each time. He seemed so determined.

He had even made the effort to get everything you told him he needed for class. When you saw him walk on the first day back from the weekend with a pair of black ballet flats in hand, you let out a sigh of relief. The man sat there on the floor in front of you, carefully putting them on and looking up at you waiting for some sort of praise. It almost made your heart skip a beat.

By the time the second class of the week had come around, there was a mutual acquaintanceship between you both. When he walked into class and met you at the barre, a mutual smile was shared.

“Mornin’ boss,” Changbin winked as he saluted you.

You let out a short groan in response which only made him laugh. His little maniacal giggle filled your ears and you stood in front of him with your head hung.

“You know you don’t have to be so formal with me,” you slowly rubbed your eyes with your middle and index fingers. “I’m your dance partner, not your boss. I’m here to help you, not boss you around.”

“Eh, it’s fine.” He shrugged. “I kinda like it when you boss me around.”

The words came out with a sense of normality behind them. There were no flirtatious undertones, no coquettish teasing—just a statement with an accidental provocative undercurrent.

The affirmation was enough to make you silently turn away. And when your gaze shifted, you could see Minho (who had been standing by) smirking at you.

“Not a word,” you mumbled low enough for only him to hear.

Minho’s smile faltered for a second before staring straight ahead once more.

When the instructor walked in, the vibe seemed very different than usual.

She was dressed more casually, which was strange, and her intimidating sense of self seemed non-existent for once—but not quite completely gone. You had never seen this side of her before and it left the whole class in astonishment. The woman stood in front of you all, hands behind her back, with her eyes scanning the room.

The room was dead silent until she eventually spoke.

“What is the meaning of pas de deux?”

Her question sent the class into a silenced frenzy. Everyone’s eyes darted at each other in the room waiting for someone to answer.

Eventually, Han’s new dance partner raised her hand and spoke.

“It means a dance for two people. Or step of two.”

“That’s its literal definition, Regina. I’m asking for the meaning.”

The instructor went on to explain how pas de deux is about two bodies coming together to create one soul; two partners coming together to produce one palpable emotion. That emotion differed from performance piece to another, and to construct those emotions through nothing but movement took a sense of dexterity to convey.

There were 3 rules of pas de deux:

You needed to trust your partner.

Unity between your partner and yourself was detrimental.

And most important of all, communication was key.

“Without those things, what we do here is simply just dancing,” your instructor shrugged. “What creates the magic of pas de deux is the harmony of two bodies. And in order to have that harmony, you must get to know your partner. Which is what we are going to do today.”

She proceeded to say that class was actually canceled today, and instead she wanted you to use your class time to get to know your partners more. It made sense, given the recent switch of partners that took place in class a few days ago. You and Changbin had already started practicing together a bit outside of class and the two of you barely knew each other. Perhaps this was a sign.

“I expect you to know your partner by the next class. You don’t have to know every dying detail of their life, but you should know enough to give a brief description of them and some of their interests in front of your fellow classmates. You will be graded on this.”

Once you all were dismissed and everyone seemed to be making their way out of the class, Changbin looked at you with a sort of desperation in his eyes.

“Heyyyy… sooo…”

“What do you want?”

“‘Kay so,” he began, “I actually had some homework that’s due later. I was gonna try to do it during practice but since class is canceled…”

“You want to know if I’m okay with you doing it now?”

He nodded vigorously with the most pouty face you had ever seen. “Please? We can meet up on the weekend again or something to make up for it. I’ll even be the one to reserve the room this time if you want. Just…please…?”

Laughing a bit, you realized how different Changbin made you feel. Normally if it were anyone else, you would have made an effort to force them to stay. You were just getting to know each other, but it was still an assignment after all. You took stuff like that when it came to dance very seriously. But something about him made you feel like you could trust him.

And so you did.

“Yeah that's fine,” you smiled. “I have some stuff to catch up on as well so that works out.”

Changbin stood there, eyebrows raised as if to ask ‘are you sure?’

You nodded, telling him to go.

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hands then pretending to throw it at you as he bolted for his gym bag.

“I love you, oh my gosh. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The boys watched the whole ordeal as they began to gather around you, surprised you let him off so easily.

“We’ve lost her guys,” Hyunjin sighed. “She’s becoming soft.”

A swift kick to his shin shut him right up.

“There we go,” Han smirked. “She's back.”

taglist: @marcillfll @jiisungllvr @chrizzlaptop @babrieeee @soupbinlily @pissmori @chlodavids @marnz1990 @worcesheshestershiresauce @hafrenstay @s00buwu @ismelllikechlorine247 @teenyfinds

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kit-williams · 22 days

Text

The Spider Suite

Apothecarian Imperial Fist: Astel Redlane

Sickly/weak darling named Mouse

I need to say the biggest shoutout to @bispecsual because a good CHUNK of the yandere boys had her help involved. The small mood boards had her help as well in helping me pick out pictures. 100% helped with getting a plot for the White Scar, helping pick out music for both Azazel rework; the imperial fist; and the white scar as well. They're been an amazing soundboard to work off of and have given me ideas for more short stories/au's etc. Like they have been such a big help that I can't thank them enough for giving me an ear to just go off on tangents about "what if the boys but chaos" and other such just random stuff that during fluffuary I didn't want to write about just yet. (And also keeping me on track with writing all the insane stuff)

Tag List: @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog @thevoidscreams @barn-anon

Thank you to @squishyowl for the Dividers

tw: SMUT, non con/rape , somnophilia, drugging, yandere behavior

Astel was one of the few brothers suited to taking care of others. Now that did not make him less of a fighter but he could handle returning from a battle covered in the gore caused by tending his battle brothers. Perhaps such a burden and weight upon his shoulders and to keep such a smile and tenderness in his person... perhaps such a thing is what turned his hair white. He entered his room and his eyes settled upon the chapter serf resting upon his bed, his Mouse as he had taken to affectionately calling her. Chapter Serfs were different from most baselines... but Mouse?

Sickly thing... and he could not help but take such pity on her, he wasn't heartless so how could he not take pity upon her? She had simply gotten the short end of the genetic lottery as he had studied her predispositions and she, for a chapter serf, was weak. The laborious lifestyle she was born into did not help her completely while hardier to baselines but compared to her peers she was such a sickly thing. Such a hardy stock serfs were, his fingers danced over her arm as his grey eyes looked over her body, but she tired easy... she was often sick or unwell... out of breath often... just she was just unlucky... if he was a crueler man one might say she was a burden even. His fingers trailed over her back and gently rubbed circles as she let out a small cough.

This is how Astel kept sane... he would find himself a pet project for him to feel good about. He made sure his door was locked and that he wouldn't be disturbed... he looked over the work orders that he had convinced Mouse to give to him to ensure that there would be a nice chunk of time that her companion was busy. He hummed softly as he opened a medical cabinet and pulled out a special mixture for her, making sure there were no air bubbles in it before he injected his mouse. She sighed and relaxed at the cocktail of medications and relaxants entered her veins. Things to help her and try to strengthen her and to help her body relax for what was to come. His fingers ran through her hair as he pulls her messy bun out looking at her hair cupping her face with a loving look in his eyes.

Astel undid his body glove, a part of him wishing she was awake to watch him so he could watch her eyes move over his body. His fingers running through the white happy trail on his stomach as his balls felt heavy... it had been awhile since he had some relief. His fingers pushing back the skin around his cock as he lazily strokes himself to half mast. A grower he's been called and far too girthy as well. He cocked his head to the side with a smile on his face as he just watched her nuzzle his pillow. He did his best to help her with her aliments and make her feel good. He always made sure she left his presence well rested and feeling better, if not slightly sore sometimes.

The bed, made for a man like him, had hardly any impression made by her body and it groaned as he sat on the bed and starts to undo her clothes. He can't help but lean down and press kisses to the back of her neck, wanting to suck on her skin and leave marks there, but his fingers work her robe free from her body. It didn't start like this... he just was a weak man for her weak body... it just started with touches to help soothe her as she slept... and then his hands roamed and she made such irresistible noises as she slept... and finding out that she could take so many of his fingers in her without waking up and just mewling instead is what drove him to this. She had to like it if she mewled right?

He rolled her over... his hand caressing her cheek and moving a strand of hair away from her cheek. His fingers made quick work of her breast bindings and freed her breasts. He leaned in as he wrapped a mouth around one of her nipples and suckled. His tongue caressing the hardening nub as his own member hardened slowly between his legs. The scent of her arousal spurring him on as did many things... he learned how to touch her and make his Mouse feel good. He just had to make sure... she didn't wake up for what he was going to do.

He pulled his mouth away from one overly wet nipple and trailed kisses in the valley of her breasts whispering to her flesh, "Do I make you feel good, little Mouse?" Astel asks before pushing his fingers between her folds and he hears her whimper of pleasure in reply. He always made sure to prepare her, like he did with any lover, but she always took him so well its what made him focus so much on her. Her soft whimpers become akin to an earworm for him haunting him throughout the day as he wrote down medical notes or sketched organs... and the way her face emoted with such soft pleasure haunted him that he has a book full of sketches of such soft faces.

He cannot wait for the day that he won't have to make sure she wont wake up but for now its for her own good for her to be so relaxed. He pulled his fingers out of her sex and pushed them into his mouth as he licked them clean as well checked on her health, she tasted so good. His cock, now fully hardened, twitched in excitement as he could see it as her body being willing to be taken by him. He pulled her up and into his lap as her head rested against his chest as he could hear her whimper as he positioned her over his cockhead. As he eased her down he couldn't help but let out soft moans... he couldn't get relief as often as his brothers due to his girth and he could feel how her walls tried to push him out.

He moved a hand down to her hooded bead and played with it feeling her walls flutter and the waves of her natural lubricant coat his cock to help him sink in till her hips touched his. Astel flexed his thighs as he resisted to thrust up as he had to give her body her time to adjust to his size. He wonders how she would let him know to move? Would she play coy? Would it just be a simple word? A nod of her head? A trail of her hand on his chest? Down his arm? As she looked up at him blissed out in pleasure upon his bed.

His lips touch her forehead and some part of him wanted to see her eyes open and her judge him in this moment... would she look at him as blissed out and lovingly as he wanted or would it be the disgust and horror that he probably deserved for what he was doing to her. He furrowed his brow at the shame that washed over him and he pushed it away by thrusting up into her body and hearing that soft pleasured whimper from her. Her hair tickled his chest and his arm as he held onto her hips as he had her leaning on him, his hands sliding her up and down his cock. It started innocent... touches to help soothe her... a stolen kiss... trailing hands and more intimate touches followed by suckling marks upon her skin where she would not see them easily. The backs of her thighs and close to her ass is where he marks as how else can she see behind her easily?

He did have some competition... her overseer was a failed aspirant and while he didn't like her weakness... it too charmed him and he was trying to court her in his own way. He knew what charm she had... but he made it clear to him that she was his Mouse. And like a good aspirant he listened to his betters but he wasn't a mean peer to his lesser... he just turned the aspirants gaze to his Mouses' companion, someone who was overly concerned with how long Mouse spent in his bedroom, and thus he solved 2 problems.

He felt adventurous tonight as he stood up and continued to thrust into her willing entrance. Hot tongue confessions in gothic left his lips as drool escaped from the corner of his mouth. He so badly wanted to hear her gasps of pleasure and her screaming his name as her walls spasmed around him. His mind raced at what positions he would take her in as they fucked, no not fucked but as he loved her properly. She wasn't as weak or as sickly as many made her out to be... she could handle his cock with ease and it was always so hard to find serfs who could. Usually he was so pent up and perhaps he had a bad habit of always clinging to a serf that can handle him... and with that being also his pet project... well that's how she was both a project and a sexual release. He was so close... he played with that bead and felt her strangling his cock and he came with her name slipping from his lips.

She woke up to the scratching of a stylus to parchment which meant that Brother Astel had returned. She rubbed the heel of her hand into her eye wiping away the sleep. She felt tired but in a good way... and that was more than what she normally got in her bed. "I hope you had a good rest, little mouse." She heard Astel finally say as he turns in his chair looking over at her with his usual warm and kind smile.

"Yes I did." Mouse said finally noticing her hair was now braided and she smiles as she always appreciated how Astel would do this for her, "I really shouldn't sleep here." She says softly.

"Nonsense. You need this my dear and I'm happy to offer my little serf some help." Astel said with his usual mirth.

"Your serf?" Mouse said with a laugh, closing her eyes and missing how Astel tenses and the distress in his body. She stopped laughing but still smiled at him, "I suppose I might be."

"Do... do you not wish to be?" Astel says softly in a curious tone... unknown to Mouse this was a question he wasn't ready to hear rejection too. He was just taking things away from her... giving her all of the time and freedom she wanted with him... Astel stopped his racing mind... he would give her back all her freedoms soon, just he had to make sure she wouldn't leave.

She kicked her feet as she sat in the bed just thinking, "I doubt I'm cut out to be a personal serf, Lord Redlane."

"I think you could be." He says encouragingly to her and she always appreciated how Astel, while it might be pity, still did not think of her as being overly weak.

She hopped off his bed looking at those charming grey eyes of his and that smile... that encouraging smile, "I'll... I'll think about it at least." Mouse said before making his bed and cleaning up a few things before slipping on her shoes and leaving his room to return to her duties. Astel let out a sigh as his eyes returned to the parchment as again there she was once more drawn in the nude laid upon his bed with such a beautiful peaceful look upon her face and for now Astel had to live with this vision upon parchment... and he could for now at least do that.

#warhammer 40k #yandere space marine #yandere #yandere imperial fist #imperial fist #space marines #tw: rape #tw: smut #tw: noncon #tw: somnophilia #tw: drugs #a medical professional abusing his powers #tw: abuse of power #apothecary astarte #this is also a big thank you post

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dear-ao3 · 9 months

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Katya's chaotic enough that I regularly fool myself into thinking you're the sensible/normal one and then you go and post something and I realize my folly

oh yeah i’m a little unhinged at times

i am very sensible and can smart my way in and out of situations and i can send a banger corporate email but if you know me very well oh damn

i have (and also this blog low key has) the combined energy of four influencers:

-b dylan hollis

the tiktoker making the old recipes. he knows a weird amount about niche history topics, has general unhinged energy, and a slightly niche sense of humor. he also likes to fuck around in the kitchen and has a pretty generic Why Not Do It For The Bit vibe. his tiktok was also a quarantine project that got out of hand, much like this blog

-joanna ceddia

a youtuber who dropped off the face of the earth a few years ago and deleted her channel but holy hell her content was up there. we tell stories very similarly like very similarly and she was dramatic as all hell. her scammers video was textbook same energy as anything i post on here. she was also doing her own thing, had relatively few friends and was god tier levels of unbothered. max fuck it why not energy.

-micarah tewers

the youtuber who claims to make sewing tutorials but makes anything but. crafty, believes she can do anything with some fabric, a sewing machine and a hot glue gun (same). she does stuff to do it and has the biggest How Hard Could It Be gene that i’ve ever seen. also she tells stories in the same roundabout way that i do. distracted easily but does the stuff in the end

-the sturniolo triplets

those tiktok/youtube triplets that make the car videos. cursed sibling energy to the max, tangents left and right and vague threats but they love eachother at the end of the day. they also like calling out their fans and lurk on their own fan accounts which is the same vibes as katya and i calling you all out occasionally and reading through our notes and stuff. as with everyone else i’ve mentioned they have an unhinged way of telling stories. katya and i also have unhinged sibling energy but me and my own sister have it more

#from saph #not a tag #katya disagrees with some of this list but #it is accurate

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arachine · 2 years

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do yk what i would give to have mike slender fingers wheeler finger me?? i would give my life. like i will hand it over to whoever to make it possible because it’s not even a want at this point it is a need.

no bc nonnie you get me. all i think about are his fingers…and how’d they fill you up so good ;((

mike is 18! + vaginal fingering, semi-public (at work), a messy stream of consciousness that i started writing out half asleep

not to go on a tangent but i hc that mike would’ve hated them growing up. i mean, it’s no secret that he was bullied, and we all know one of the things that the bullies made fun of him for was how freakishly pale and bony he was. it isn’t until the summer before college, when he starts to think differently of them.

he’d taken up a job to help save money for school, and who does he end up working alongside? none other than you, the former queen bee of hawkin’s high.

the two of you didn’t really talk in high school, something about cliques and hanging out with the opposite crowds…or something like that—but you knew of each other—well, he knew of you. and while he’d never spoken to you directly, he had heard enough stories from the nerds and outcasts about how…mean you could be.

and that’s how he came to the presumption that summer was gonna be absolute hell with you. endless bickering. endless insults thrown back and forth, followed by mean scowls and scolds…but there was none of that, surprisingly.

to his dismay, you were all smiles, and sunshine. a giggly thing that liked to talk, and crack jokes, and throw out random compliments. it was unnerving, weird. because here he was, with this made up version of you in his head, this mean-spirited, bitchy, bratty version of you that…didn’t even exist! it was just hatred fueled by word of mouth, and years of watching you from the sidelines but never talking to you. he thinks he’s the biggest idiot, and rightfully so.

the first thing you said to him on the job was how pretty his hands were. it was a simple comment, just something said in passing as he stocked the shelves, but it stuck with him. and at first he was confused because…they’d always been something he’d hated about himself? he thinks they’re just hands, just bony, pale things, but you were insistent—adamant, and everyday you’d never fail to let him know how much you liked them whenever you were in his presence.

and after some time of knowing you, somehow it’d gone from ‘your hands are so pretty’ to ‘i want them inside of me’ and he can’t fucking believe it, the poor boy doesn’t know what to do or how to respond.

but he let’s you use him. let’s you guide his hands to your pretty little cunt and fuck yourself with ‘em. and god, are you a sight to see. the faces you’re making? the things you’re babbling to him as you thrust his fingers in and out of your folds? are quite literally wilder than anything he’s ever made up in that head of his.

“been dreamin’ about this for so—shit—long, mikey,” your voice is breathy and straggled, words spilling from your lips like smooth honey. “always liked your fingers, think they’re so pretty.” your honest confession sends a flood of warmth straight to his cheeks, and he prays to a higher power that you’re so busied with his fingers, that you don’t notice.

“yeah?” his voice is soft, uncertain, like he can’t believe a girl like you would ever dream of wanting a guy like him. you were from different worlds, different universes. it didn’t make sense. but then again, none of this did. here you were—the two of you—in the inventory room, with his hands stuffed down your panties and, fuck, he was so hard.

he wanted so badly to touch himself, wanted to assuage the dull ache that he was feeling in his balls and his throbbing cock, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you—couldn’t take his hands off of you. self-restraint was something foreign to mike. he’d always been one to take what he wanted, do what he wanted, and say what he wanted, but right now? right now he’d just watch, and if that meant creaming his pants, then so be it.

“mhm, ‘m always thinking about you,” you start, “had my eye on you since sophomore year but you paid me no mind. did everything i could to get your—your attention.”

“really? but you were popular, i didn’t think you noticed me,” he unconsciously syncopates the last word with a thrust, and this makes you preen, all short and breathy.

for a second his brain stops functioning, and he has to literally force the gears in his head to start turning, to move so he can find the words to speak. he wants to hear that sound again, and again, and—

“mmm, feels s’good. do that again, mikey,” you ask him with those pretty puppy-dog eyes, but he doesn’t exactly know what he did because he didn’t mean to do it. he indulges you anyway, though, even if his approach is hesitated and inexperienced.

“i mean…’m nothing special,” he begins to move, “so what did it for you, what made you fall for the loser?”

“d-don’t be stupid, i tell you everyday. you’re so—shit, pretty.”

his obsidians are trained on your own, fingers moving in and out tantalizingly slowly as he processes this information. sure, you may have made it known on multiple occasions that he had pretty hands or whatever, but he thought you were just fucking around with him? because that’s just the type of dynamic the two of you had established—friends, acquaintances, fuck, amiable associates that joked around to pass time at work?

“you say my hands are pretty, though. never heard you say i’m pretty. do you really think that?” it takes all of your strength to not slap him silly, so instead, you shut him up with a kiss. it’s slow and soft, and the two of you groan into it—he groans because your cunt’s squeezing his fingers, and you groan because you’ve been waiting to do that for so long.

“god, mikey…your fingers are stuffed inside of me and you have the nerve to ask if i think you’re pretty?” you pull away from his face, hands still tugging on his uniform shirt. “let’s make a deal. if you make me cum before our manager gets back, i’ll tell you all the times i tried to get your attention in high school. deal?”

the brunet studies you before answering, “deal.”

#mike wheeler x reader #mike wheeler x reader smut #mike wheeler x you #mike wheeler x you smut #mike wheeler x y/n #mike wheeler x y/n smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x reader smut

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fiapartridge · 3 months

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quinn x oona | how they met pt. 1! 🚙🌃✨

author's note: this is like kinda how they met??? like when they first saw each other, but they haven't learned each other's names yet, you know???? anyways hope u enjoy their little universe! send in asks for this au!

Who has a party at 2:56 AM on a Tuesday in the middle of February? Stupid ass people, that’s who, and Oona was ready to blast a hole through the wall that connected her living room to the apartment beside it. Honest to God, the only thing that was stopping her from going full-on Hulk on that piece of thin fiber cement was, well, the landlord and her roommate, Grace Castellan (Gracie to everyone who knows her, and ‘that one talkative white girl’ to everyone who didn’t).

Oona met Gracie in her first year at NYU. They were in their Intro to Theatre Studies class when Gracie talked up the ear of anyone in a 10-mile radius of her, and the only person who didn’t mind and actually enjoyed Gracie’s endless tangent of how blackholes are somehow exactly like the Kardashians’ reality show, was Oona. They sat next to each other for the rest of the semester, and once they graduated college, they decided to move back to their home city of Vancouver, Canada where, coincidentally, they both were from, using this time to audition for roles and hopefully land themselves a part that will guarantee them a ticket to Hollywood, or at least a ticket back to New York (rent is hard to manage there when you’re living off of small commercial roles and hand modeling gigs).

As Oona sat on her living room couch, a snoring Gracie and her long pajama-covered (they have unicorns on them) legs were limp across Oona as she tried to push her tired limbs off and slip towards the door without making a peep. But, much to Oona’s sheer luck (she isn’t a very lucky girl), a peep was made and there Gracie was, sitting up in so much alarm you would think that an intruder just busted through the door and screamed at her to put her hands up.

“I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING! OONA HAS MONEY STORED IN HER UNDERWEAR DRAWER! PLEASE DON’T KILL US!” Gracie screamed, still half-asleep and disoriented.

Oona groaned, lightly slapping Gracie’s cheek. “No one’s here, you psycho. I’m just getting up to go somewhere.”

Gracie peeled her eyes open, brushing her messy hair with the tips of her pink-and-white-painted fingernails. “Where are you going at,” she took a moment to check the Apple watch on her wrist. “2:56 AM?”

Oona walked closer to the door, slipping on a pair of Uggs and tying her hair into a messy bun, pulling out strands to frame her face correctly. “Do you not hear that? They’re louder than your brother was at that time we went to the mall and he was screaming at you to buy him that ugly RC car.”

Gracie shivered. “I’ve gotten a lot of weird looks in my lifetime, but those 40 year old women in the toy aisle of Sears? I still get chills.”

“See? Now I’m going to go over there and make them wish they never even moved here.”

Gracie rolled her eyes. “No way. The last time you said something like that, you ended up being the one apologizing. You’re the biggest pushover I have ever met.”

Oona scoffed. “Am not! I just—”

“Want everyone to like you,” Gracie interrupted. She was right. Gracie was always right when it came to Oona, but Oona would never admit that. She was a people pleaser, but who was that hurting? If she said yes to everything and if she was nice to everyone, then no one was sad and no one got what they didn’t want. Well, except for Oona.

Sighing, she said, “I’m just gonna go talk to them. Maybe they’ll come to their senses.”

Gracie laughed, tilting her head back slightly. “Yeah, right. I saw them on the elevator last week; they’re hockey douchebags to the max.”

“They can’t be that bad.”

“They’re having a party at almost 3 AM, if you combined every player on that team, they would probably make up one brain cell, and I can smell the beer from here, but yeah, sure they’re great people.”

“Fine, fine,” Oona huffed. “But I’m still gonna talk to them. Maybe they’ll change,” she smiled, a too optimistic smile for a dire-looking situation. Because who ever heard of a hockey player changing his ways? No one, that’s who.

Opening the door, Oona walked the small five steps over to the neighboring apartment. She knocked once, twice, three times, even. Nothing. The blaring music must’ve drowned out her pounding knocks. Just as she was about to go in for a fourth, the door opened and her body quickly went with it.

“Woah there,” a voice echoed through her ears, holding her body up as his hands softly gripped her arms. She stumbled back, landing on her two feet and managing to stay vertical despite the embarrassment rushing through her cheeks and the small little voice in her brain telling her to get the hell out of there immediately.

The man standing in front of her was tall, taller than anyone she knew, and he had short blonde hair and the clearest green eyes she had ever seen. He had an accent that she wasn’t too familiar with. German maybe? Or possibly Swedish?

“Um, do you live here?” she asked, tapping her nails against the metal frame of the door. And looking beyond the tall Swedish man, she could tell that it wasn’t much of a party, but a hangout. More tall men were lingering in the living room, beers in hand and potato chips spilled on every counter. On the center island in the kitchen lay an abandoned plate of celery and carrots, most likely a tribute to their strict hockey diets that apparently no one was following.

He shook his head.

“Okay,” she talked slowly. “Um, do you know who lives here?”

“Yep.”

Breathing deeply, Oona tapped her fingers a bit harsher against the doorframe, still maintaining a gentle smile on her (now) slightly red face. “Can you bring them here? I need to talk to…whoever it is.”

Nodding, he turned around, cupping his mouth with his large hands and yelling, “Huggy!” before waving him over to where they stood at the entryway.

Huggy? Oona chuckled at the nickname. Who nicknames a ferocious hockey player Huggy?

But as the shorter boy moved through, somehow, still energetic bodies and met the two at the door, Oona felt something crawl around her stomach and make the fading red of her cheeks come back in harsher hues. His hair was a chestnut color and it looked soft and smooth, like you could run your hands through it a million times and it still wouldn’t be enough. He wore a gray hoodie and black jeans, his hands in his pockets as he smiled politely at the blushing girl.

“Can I help you?”

Her mouth ran dry as she licked her lips. She tucked the thin strands of black hair behind her ear and proceeded (or tried to proceed). “It’s 3 AM and I’m trying to sleep,” Oona said, hoping he would take the hint and quiet down a bit.

He scoffed, smirking with his cute lips and his cute hair and his cute gray hoodie that looks so soft you just want to wrap your cold body in it. And it probably smells good, too. It probably smells like his scent in the mornings, woodsy yet fresh like white linen sheets and candles that would make you think he has a woman living with him, but nope. That’s just him. But Oona’s just guessing. Not to make things weird or anything. She’s totally not dreaming about what her handsome neighbor’s hoodie smells like because that would be weird—haha. Totally weird.

He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over themselves, and while he wasn’t as tall as the man that initially opened the door, he made Oona feel just as small. His smile was infectious, but not in a big ‘bring it in, let’s hug way,’ but in a more sultry way. Like you can feel a rollercoaster rumbling in your stomach despite him not saying a single word.

“Are you?” he asked.

She laughed at that because there was no way that he was serious. It didn’t even sound like a question, God it sounded like…like flirting? But that wasn’t even the bizarre thing, no the bizarre thing was that somehow made Oona 10 times angrier. Why was he flirting with her? Does he think that she’ll just fall into his trap and let it all slide? Does he think that she’s just a stupid girl that he can get to do anything he says? Because that’s not Oona Hashimoto. Not in the slightest. And if he wants to play that game, then fine.

Let’s play that game.

She stepped closer, her hand landing on his bicep as he stuttered for a moment. Like he was on high alert all of a sudden. His eyes wandered down to her hand, and then he relaxed because she was falling right into the palm of his hand, so he thought. She raised her head, staring him right in his deep green eyes. She pouted a bit, changing her whole demeanor. Because they’re playing the same game here. It’s just a matter of who will crack first.

“Please?” she asked, gazing up at him with brown doe eyes. “I won’t say a word after tonight. Just do this one thing? Please?”

He sighed, straightening up and causing her hand to fall off his bicep. “As much as I’d love to do that,” he grinned. “I don’t want to.”

Her brows furrowed, her doe eyes turning into burning rage, and lips turning from a pout to a pissed off frown. “What do you mean you ‘don’t want to?’”

He shrugged. “Exactly that. Goodnight,” he smiled before placing his hand on the door and slowly shutting it before Oona held it open, scoffing.

“No, you don’t get to be an asshole and then just shut the door on me. All I’m asking is for you to just turn down the music!”

“Yeah, well it sounds like the person being loud is you,” he pointed. Bending down to Oona’s level, he whispered, “You’re shouting.”

“You are insufferable, you know that?”

“Yeah, you said it a couple of times. Can I go now or do you want to keep going?”

Oona crossed her arms, fury burning through her veins as she watched him smile as if he did nothing wrong. As if he was enjoying this. “Go to hell.”

“See ya there, neighbor.”

#quinn x oona au! ★#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagines #vancouver canucks

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powercloud · 5 months

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Gojo could feel the tips of his finger tingle, the sole of his feet itching to move. His mind reels, a thousand thoughts running that it makes his stomach sick. Gojo stands, sits, then stands again until he couldn’t take it anymore. The only thing that grounds him is the sound of your voice, though its the sole reason he’s going insane in the first place.

Gojo has his phone tucked between his cheek and his shoulder, his hand on his hip while the other pinches the bridge of his nose. You’re on the other side, talking about shirt sizes, about which would fit best. And the fact you’re so casual about the whole ordeal despite the betrayal you did him dirty with not even a few days ago pisses him off.

You chose Geto’s side over his. To Gojo that is the highest degree of hurt you could ever inflict on him. And you dared call him dramatic the first minutes of the call!

“I’m gonna go with large,” you said, Gojo can hear shuffling on your end. “I feel like the pair would go well with Suguru too. Don’t you think?”

Gojo’s nose flares, if this was a cartoon he would have steam blowing out of his ears. “I don’t care! And I can’t even see what shirt you’re talking about, you weirdo. Why’d you call me?”

“Cause I missed you. What, I can’t?” Gojo bites down his lower lip, as if it could help calm down the sudden skip of his heartbeat. You have a way with making his emotions go on tangents. “Besides, I haven’t spoken to you in days since I left Tokyo for this mission. How are you doing?”

Gojo doesn’t hold back from telling his truth. “Absolutely horrible, what did you expect? You and Shoko took Suguru’s side, two of my bestest friends not even seeing my side of the story! I was assigned to go on an island with Suguru for a mission, can you imagine how awkward that was for me. Three whole days we were there and we’ve not spoken a word to each other.”

You scoff on the microphone, Gojo can almost sense you rolling your pretty eyes at him. “You did say some mean things to him, Satoru.” He doesn’t like how soft you say his name, that it almost makes him want to do whatever you tell him to. “And what you did was wrong. You have to be the one to apologize to him.” But never that.

“He said mean things to me, too,” Gojo defends. “He called me inconsiderate. I’m plenty considerate!”

“Someone considerate wouldn’t put Inoue Waka as his wallpaper when he has a gorgeous girlfriend who already feels inferior,” You sigh, defeatedly and Gojo knows he’s lost. A pause passes, giving you two both time to breathe. Gojo knows deep in his messed up head you were right. That Geto and Shoko were right. He’s just...he doesn’t know. His ego’s too big to admit he’s wrong, he’s so used to being right. To being on top of everything, he is above everything. He’s still young and learning and forever grateful you’re in his life to call him out on his bullshit, like now.

“Apologize, Satoru,” you said, nearly sounding desperate, tired. “So when I come home I’ll give you the biggest smooch on the cheek and gift you this ugly large shirt as souvenir.” Gojo chuckles at that, agreeing with you. A smile breaking out of his face, the lines of worry disappearing from his forehead.

"Fine, fine. I will," Gojo acquiesces finally.

"Hm, good." You then bless him with a low hearty laugh.

After another beat passes, Gojo tells another truth. “She broke up with me, you know.”

“I– she did?” You don't seem fazed at the sudden shift, if anything you've come to welcome any shift when it came to him.

“Yeah, I kinda deserve it anyway. That was a dick move.”

“Oh, Satoru.” You make no point debunking what he said last, and in it’s own twisted way Gojo knows its for the best. “When did she?”

“Hours after you left,” Gojo said, sitting down now, his head buried in his hand. “Its a long time coming, honestly.”

“How do you mean?”

“It never felt right,” He said. Because she’s not you, he thinks.

“Never felt right?”

“Yeah.” I’m in love with you.

“Hm, I see.” Gojo can feel the sorry dripping from your tone. There was really no need for you to feel anything like that at all. Gojo only felt bad for a day after the break up, then felt more sorry for the fact it only took that much time and he must be such an asshole for being that way and yet... “Don’t you worry, Satoru. I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for next time.”

“When you get here.”

“What?”

“I mean, when do you get here?”

“Oh! Uh, my flights later tonight. I’ll be there in the morning.” Gojo doesn’t say anything after that. And for awhile, what he can hear from your end is another person with an accent and you conversing with them in English. You’re probably paying for the stuff you bought. Gojo waits patiently.

When it’s back to faint sounds of your shoes clicking on floors, Gojo asks. “Where are you anyway?”

“In some thrift shop a few blocks from where I’m stationed,” You answer, then quickly add with, "about time you wear things not designer." Because you know he's going to take offense. And he does.

"I can't believe this."

"Listen, this one's—"

"A thrifted shirt? Seriously, I can't—"

"It compliments your eyes! It would look so good on you, trust me."

...

"Well, if you say so. At least tell me it's not the cheapest thing in the store."

"Don't be a pompous jerk, Satoru. You're gonna accept what I give you."

#satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #jjk #jjk satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #can you tell I don't know how to end a one-shot

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moonkkives · 2 years

Text

— ( RACES & OLD RITUALS! )

pairing: max verstappen x driver fem!reader

summary: max has always been your good luck charm, just as much as you are his.

warning: so fluffy, gianpiero wingman😔, max is crazy in love

word count: 1.1k

them: this is what falling in love feels like by jvke

author’s note: im in my max feels after his win today at the hungary gp (baby boy was so happy!!🥺🧡) so i whipped this out in like half an hour. sorry if it’s not good but my brain is literally fried due to uni. more and better things to come for sure!!

taglist at the end, if anyone is interested please don’t hesitate to ask! (also, requests are currently open!)

“i seriously feel like i see you more on this side than on your own garage” gianpiero deadpanned, not even looking up from the endless amount of data sheets he was absorbing before the race.

you couldn’t help but laugh at gp’s monote voice, “that’s because my presence brings you an infinite amount of joy.” you said with a teasing smile, making him and the rest of the race engineers that were huddled around the table laugh as well.

gp rolled his eyes, an amused look on his face. “would you please get out of my garage? i already have enough dutch to go around.”

you feigned a gasp, “hey! i’m the better kind of dutch!”

before you fell into a tangent, gp waved you off with a growing smile on his face. “yeah, yeah, whatever. the not-so-good kind of dutch is in his drivers room.”

you said goodbye to gianpiero and the rest of the guys, before making your way to max’s room. a few people smiled at you on the way there, as everyone was used to having you on this side of the garage; same goes for max when he’s on yours.

the rest of max’s team loved having you there, since it was very hard to miss the way the dutch guy perked up when he had you around. everyone always shared knowing looks when max’s could keep his eyes off of yours and how he followed you around like a lost puppy, smiling at anything and everything you said.

gp always fake gagged at your guy’s cheesiness, but truthfully he was very impatient about someone, anyone, making a move on the other. being one of max’s biggest confidente, he knew more than he let on; so, anytime he’d catched his arm wrapped around your waist or word spread around that a picture of you two had gone viral, the smallest smile filled with pride graced his face.

both yours and max’s media team were your guy’s number one fans. they always seemed to catch the perfect pictures to make fans go crazy, and have squealed and ‘awed’ an absurd amount of time when showing the rest of the team pictures they’ve taken of max and you when you weren’t even looking.

“do you think today is the day?” tom, verstappen's performance engineer asked, partly joking, but with hopefulness as well.

gp could only chuckle. “as if.”

as you absently made your way through the garage, you came in contact with a hard chest. you felt max’s chest vibrate as he let out a small chuckle with his hands automatically coming to your waist to stabilize you.

“oh” he said, raising a brow. max’s eyes lit up at your presence. “came here to steal information?”

you poked his shoulder, his hands still around your waist, “don’t need it. i am, in fact, quicker than you on the straights.” you referred to last week’s race debrief.

he hummed. “that’s debatable. but you do, in fact, open too wide at many corners.”

you gasped. “i do not!”

he mocked your gasp in a exaggerated manner, “i do not!” he copied you in a highly pitched tone.

you laughed at that, and max could help look at you with warm eyes, completely mesmerized. a smile grew on his lips at the sound of your laugh a the sparkle of your eyes. he could almost hear gianpiero’a voice on his head.

he’s so, utterly, fucked. and whipped.

the small little bubble you both had created suddenly disappeared at the voice of your performance coach calling your name from the outside of the garage, “time’s up. we need to do a quick brief.”

you turned at the sound of his voice and nodded at him in acknowledgment. “i’ll be right up!”

since the beginning of your f1 career, max and you developed a ritual that you guys did before every race. even before you signed with redbull and were part of mclaren, you always made sure to find each other in the sea of people. you had never gone a race without finding each other and max often refers to you a his good luck charm.

for the past two years with you in red bull and max as your next door neighbor, things were much easier.

now facing each other, max’s arms left your waist and extended his palms in front of you with a knowing smile. you smiled at the gesture, joining your hands with his’ with your fingers interlocking in what for you was a very familiar touch.

people often joked max and you were born holding hands together, but you truly believe your palms had molded into the shape of his. hand in hand, he brought your hands close to his lips and deposited a soft kiss on them, “see you on the other side.” max’s bright blue eyes beamed at you.

you mirrored his smile and equaled the gesture, bringing your joined hands towards you and kissing your knuckles. well, more his than yours.

not intentionally, of course.

“see you on the other side.” you answered. max squeezed your hands one final time, before your hands left his.

you were already missing his soft skin pressed against yours as you turned around and left for your garage, which was right besides his. just like he had always been; right beside you.

max eyes were glued to your back whilst watching you disappear. the boy-ish smile only left his face when he felt gianpiero give him a firm pay on the back.

“okay lover boy, don’t get all gooey with me now. time to race.”

later you would find out that the media team had snapped a few pictures of you at the perfect time; one of you with your hands intertwined and leveled up to both of your chins,you looking down and your fingers and max’s warm gaze never leaving tour face. there was another one similar but with max kissing your knuckles and then you doing the same.

all three pictures were posted with the caption:

“red bull’s good luck charms = 🦁🧡 + 🐯🧡”

TAGLIST — @iamasimpingh0e @dorisfantasyworld @weirdestmentalityphilosopher @ggrapejuiceblues @claramllera @tsukishimawhore @lovingroscoee @yeolsbubbles @ohthemisssery

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littled0lls · 13 days

Text

Okay let me talk about Maria ( the Marshall from Leverage Redemption ) because everything about this character pisses me off.

What makes me so mad is the unused potential of it all ( and also the whole creating a female character whose only purpose and personality trait is to be a man's love interest... ) I was hyped when we first saw her, and at least it makes sense for Eliot to be attracted to her since we know a beautiful woman kicking his ass is his biggest turn on lol.

But then after that first meeting they never really care to develop their relationship ( or Maria. ) Suddenly they're dating and I can't bother to care because the writers themselves don't care enough to show us anything about them. But I would've hoped that AT LEAST there would be some conflict coming from the fact that she's a cop and him a pretty notorious criminal ?? But no, she doesn't question why he had a warrant out on him when they first met ( not even in his name ) or anything else he does, she just kinda assumes he's working for the government in some capacity. And that doesn't even make sense imo since one of her only personality trait is Being a Cop™. She should've been intrigued and asked way more questions. But in the Hurricane Job she tells him that she doesn't care what he does because he does good. Okay. So what's the point of her being here? What does she add to the show??

What I would've done was go for a similar dynamic to Parker/McSweeten. Like Parker has to do stuff for the con while pretending to be a FBI agent, it adds drama and pressure and makes for funny shenanigans. Maybe it's just that, Eliot having to do stuff for the con while pretending to be a normal upstanding citizen in front of Maria, or maybe the team had to steal something for the con and Maria gets assigned to investigate so now they have to be careful to not get caught. And she's good at following their trail so Eliot has to hide from her bunch of time. Or maybe she's only getting close to Eliot as a way to investigate him and then she starts to actually care for him. If they'd have shown us that I would've probably loved their relationship. Or something else I don't know. Anything else.

Instead what we get is an uninteresting relationship where the break up doesn't make that much sense cause oh suddenly she cares about what Eliot does? Okay lol.

Since she's gonna be in S3, my hope is that she's investigating the team ( maybe unknowingly at first, like she's just investigating the weird things that have been happening in New Orleans. ) and not that they try to force us to care about her and Eliot's relationship for no reason again. At least give the woman another personality trait besides being a girlboss cop ( also I could go on a whole separate tangent about the way Leverage portrays cops. that's something else that pisses me off about this character )

Absolutely no hate to Andrea Navedo btw she does a good job at portraying the character with what she's given. Which isn't a lot.

#leverage #leverage redemption #maria shipp

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larcenywrites · 11 months

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Hii. Could you write headcanons for being in the lab with Tony (young!Tony and/or regular!Tony)? Like, keeping him company while he finishes a project so y'all can go to bed or something. And watching him in his element, talking nonsense to Jarvis, asking you to pass him a tool or to... asking him to explain what he's doing and seeing him go into full on science mode with sparkling eyes and whatnot and he's like super excited you're interested in his science stuff. And he kisses you to get his attention back if he notices your mind drifted in the middle of his rant (or if you just did something very well and he's like OMG LOOK AT MY GIRL DOING SCIENCE STUFF)

I think older Tony needs some love here! We’ve talked a lot about being with young Tony in his dad’s lab and doing homework with him and stuff, so let’s give our old man a chance to bore us x) I feel like I really railroaded this all over the place and got carried away but listen this is like the dream

Warnings: 18+ for kinda explicit sexual references

In the Lab With Him

💠It gets pretty lonely when all he does is hide away in his lab :( But that's his happy place- his safe space. Always dedicated to the cause and always addicted to doing more and doing it better! You can't drag him out so easily, so if you can't bring him to you, you'll have to go to him!

💠Not that Tony doesn't want and enjoy your company! But... it's not always the safest place 😥 and sometimes he escapes down here to be alone for a reason :( He might try to gently run you off the first few times you stick around a few minutes too long, but give him your best pout and tell him how much you miss him, with your hands on his biceps and legs bumping with his 🥺🥺🥺🥺 What's he gonna do? Say no?? He could never! It's not like you'll be down there all the time, so he'll probably make sure to leave the more finicky and flammable things for when you've gone to bed or something.

💠He definitely starts to appreciate the company! JARVIS can get pretty dry and sarcastic with him, and it gets pretty boring only getting help from DUM-E by his side. He's really not all that alone down here, huh? Or maybe it just proves your point that he's driving himself crazy down here...

💠And a good thing about finally being allowed in the lab is that you can actually make sure he's eating real food and drinking water down here 🤧 He can't hide all of those k-cups and go-go squeezes!

💠Bug the hell out of him! Ask questions! You may not understand most of it, but sometimes he sure does get excited! He's pointing out how things connect, and you get to see a little behind-the-scenes and inner workings of all the little moving parts in the suit! Ask nicely, and you might get to try on one of those helmets! Ask really nicely, and he might let you help him out a little! Usually it's just passing him tools or holding the flashlight! Don't worry, he won't yell at you if you jostle it.

💠If you ask really, really nicely, he might let you don one of those gauntlets and try your hand at shooting targets and most likely end up hitting the same spot on the wall he made a hole in the first time he ever tried this! Don't worry, he'll be holding onto you the whole time 🥰 But no matter how good you did or how nice you ask, you aren't going to get to try on the rest of the suit 😔

💠But there is something cute about it when he goes on a tangent, and his mind clicks behind his eyes when he finds a solution! Sometimes the biggest smile spreads across his cheeks, and even he looks amazed by the pixels and holograms floating around. Their blue glow reflects in his dark eyes, and his heart glows with them. He might kinda forget you're there and start thinking out loud, or stare off into space with the handle of a screwdriver smooshing at his lips. While he's searching all around the room for answers, sometimes he lands on you, looking over you as if you may be the solution to... something? You aren't even sure what he was looking for in the first place. But the more lost you look, the more cheek kisses you get when paces by 😘

💠Throw your own thoughts out to him when he's lost, even if it's something as simple as "hey, it looks like these could fit together." He'll either explain to you what they are and why they should not be 'fit together,' or you're a genius who gets lots of kisses! Sometimes you can connect a few things he rambles about and figure out how it works, and, after watching him for long enough, you do start to pick up on a few things. Take over a few times or ask if you can connect those wires this time, and he'll be a bit paranoid and watchful, but you seem to be having fun, and he is pretty proud seeing you start to pick up on what he's quite literally done his entire life! And it makes him feel a bit better knowing that you might could get by in an emergency. Maybe he should give you free rein more often, and teach you some new tricks!

💠There shouldn't be anything actually dangerous or hazardous that he lets you tinker with or help him with, but, just like him, you'll probably still get the occasional cut or burn 🤕 He'll feel super bad every time and might want to just jump the gun and keep you away again, or at least make you take a step back for a while. After some convincing, he'll calm down, but he'll still feel bad :/ he just feels like you got hurt because of him, which is like the whole thing he's supposed to prevent 😞 But for probably the first time ever, he gets to patch you up this time ❤️‍🩹

💠It's probably not all that shocking that you'll also end up having a lot of sex down there 😏 Whether you're sitting on top of his desk next to his computer or bent over a table and observing his work, eventually his hands will find their way to your hips. Sometimes, though, you have to be pretty careful. There's been a time or two when whatever he was working on ended up broken on the floor, or JARVIS has scared the life out of you both by suddenly announcing that he's finished running a diagnostic or asking Tony when he would like to start on something 😒 Well, suddenly could probably be put in quotations. JARVIS knows what he's doing!

💠Plus it's hard not to bother him when he always looks so hot in his element! Half the time he's in that slutty black tank top, with strong arms flexing and fingers so delicately twisting screwdrivers. Dark eyes are so stern and focused on whatever he's working on, and eerily similar to the commanding eyes that look down at you when you're on your knees 😏 And then his tongue pokes out in concentration and licks over his lips, and wouldn't he rather look at you like that instead?

💠He isn't blind to your ogling when he's wiping black grease from his fingers. In fact, he purposefully plays it up just for your amusement! He could just wipe his hands and be done with it, but no. He'll give you a show and twist a rag around each digit, and drag it up-and-down his middle and ring finger, familiarly pressed together. It wouldn't be the first time you've left the lab with a bit of a lingering taste of oil on your tongue 😌

💠You know, maybe you've been down here a little too long now, too, because the few Iron Man suits standing tall against the back wall are starting to look oddly... attractive? You and Tony have never been shy with experimenting in the bedroom, and there's something about the way he's flexing his fingers in that bulkier, shiny red handpiece that gives you more than a few ideas 👀 Pretend to ask questions about it and casually ask to touch, but as soon as you start brushing your fingers along the cool metal, and your hand seems so much smaller and fragile in his palm. He didn't exactly pick up on your true intentions, but now he has a few of his own 😈

💠He's mostly on his feet, but sometimes he's seated in an office chair or on a stool at the desk his monitors are sat on, editing code or a model, and usually this is the most boring part unless he lets you choose a color scheme or lets you come up with an acronym for whatever system he's programming over there. However, a lot of the time, he's far too focused and occasionally frustrated. So distracted, in fact, that he won't notice if you simply... slip beneath the desk and slide your hands between his legs 😏 You'll likely get a few warnings, but while his voice is stern, the hand in your hair isn't exactly pulling you away...

💠And while him removing his shirt can be arousing, all of that flies out of the window when he lifts his shirt and starts fiddling with the arc reactor! Let's be real, it's more than a little jarring to watch him take it out, as there's quite literally just a hole there 🤢 But that ghostly blue object is pretty interesting! While you may not want to hold that specific one (and it can't really be out of his chest for very long anyway), there are plenty of others lying around and fixed into those suits on the wall that you can hold and look at. It's the one thing you already know all about, but he always said his heart was in your hands. It's the closest you'll actually get to that 🥺

💠And speaking of ghostly blue glowy things, those blue 3D diagrams and holograms that can make this workspace into a whole new one is also very interesting! After watching him pluck and fling fake molecules and atoms around, you may be tempted to play around in his sandbox, too! It's pretty weird grabbing something realistic that's not actually there, and he'll even jump back a bit if you flick it his way 🤭

💠If you're bored out of your mind, talk to JARVIS when Tony's not using him! You probably already do that anyway, only now you can both gang up on him! JARVIS knows a lot of secrets and surprises after all, and while he's usually sworn to secrecy, he suddenly doesn't care much about that when he's telling you all about the one time you were out of town and he and DUM-E had a tea party, and about the "elongated silicone mold" that he's "not sure what good it did strapped to a suit." He just likes to make Tony squirm and make you laugh 😊 Wait- what did he do with that elongated silicone mold strapped to a suit while you were gone?

💠You can also get JARVIS to answer just about any question about why the chicken crossed the road, or have him replicate the solar system in the center of the room! Talk about a kiss under the stars! JARVIS can get a little curt with his creator at times, and his sarcastic comments can be very entertaining, but he’ll be a little more patient with you 😌 He might metaphorically roll his eyes if you ask him to divide by zero, though 😒 How original and profound of you 🙄

💠Poor DUM-E, always being yelled at :( Just as much as you have an attachment to JARVIS' AI, it's hard not to get attached to that one too! Stick up for the robotic arm that only sometimes breaks things and give it a little head(?) pat! Tony built it when he was 16, after all, so you know he has some sort of love and appreciation for the robot! It's fun watching them all interact, but remind DUM-E that Tony doesn't mean it when he says he'll turn him into a coat rack :(

💠It does make Tony feel a little guilty when you're over there hugging that sulking mechanical arm and cooing, or maybe he just feels bad because that's usually reserved for him >:(

💠When you're really bored, you might even get him to play catch with you, or spend your time teaching him how to paint or something! Fist bump his little grabby claw when he does a good job! Be nicer to his robot companion, and he'll spray you with the fire extinguisher first when things accidentally go awry :) Even if there wasn't even a fire 😅

💠Some days aren't so focused on his work, and he starts working on the project cars! You get to sit in the driver's seat and step on the gas pedal when he asks you to, or he might get you to put your smaller hands somewhere under those pipes to pull on something! But you might get bored at times on these days too. Sit in the back seat and he'll let you control the music that's always playing, or mess with him a little when he's underneath the hood and watch him hit his head if you're feeling a little devilish 😇 But if he's feeling just as devilish, you might end up back-first on that same hood... and you better not get even a scratch on it!

💠And some days are extremely busy. Full of paperwork and blueprints and half-redacted plans from god knows where that you're probably not supposed to see but it's probably fine! He's on the floor, surrounded with papers, and usually seated in the middle of his holographic sandbox of a mountainous landscape or fake missiles he occasionally tries to disarm. It's probably the most interesting thing to watch, yet he'll tend to put his foot down for once when he asks you to leave. While sometimes he doesn't mind you helping him plan escape routes for something you know nothing about, there are things that are obviously much more serious, like those fake missiles he keeps exploding, and he's trying his best not to freak the fuck out in front of you. Of all the fun you have with him in the safety of home, it's easy to forget the direness of his work.

💠And most days, you have to force him to wear those glasses he's supposed to be wearing when he's doing lots of eye-straining work, so pretty much every day. For someone who wears sunglasses at night and occasionally wears a fake black pair with JARVIS built into them, he sure acts like these drive him nuts! He's always pushing them up his nose, and is a bit obsessive in wiping the lenses of every fuzz and smudge. They probably don't bother him that much, but because you made him wear them, he's mad >:( and he's going to show you how awful they are >:( and his vision is slightly better... but it's different >:( But those translucent red frames are super cute sitting on his cheeks, and he always looks so wide-eyed and innocent with the way they curve with his brow and show off his puppy eyes 🥹 Sorry, Tony, doctor's orders and all 😌 Besides, he could never put a stop to something that gives him any extra attention 😉

💠So don't be afraid to smooch that sweet face 😘 It would be harder not to! Especially if he's run into a lot of problems and is getting frustrated. Get happy with him when he makes progress and kiss his cheek, or try to take his mind off of it by massaging at his biceps and gently kissing his shoulder ❤ Remind him that breaks exist and shut up any excuse with a quick kiss or drag him away. Make up a game to play in that 3D sandbox and think of solutions in a more fun and relaxed environment, or convince him to dance with you to his softer 80's playlist 😌

💠Sometimes he can be a bit silly all on his own, especially if he knows you're not paying attention anymore or bored out of your mind (but you just don’t like leaving him alone). He may just start doing a goofy little dance to make you laugh, or make whichever suit is nearby to do it for him! Or maybe he’ll just tackle you to the floor to wake you up instead

💠It may be easier to convince him back upstairs for bed after being with him all day. You're tired and want to go to sleep— with him 🥺 Wrap your arms around him or curl up in his lap and pout again. He can never say no! He may still end up back here before you wake up, but getting him in bed is better than napping in the backseat of one of the cars! Though you may be guilty of doing that with him a time or two… Oh! Don't forget to tell JARVIS and DUM-E goodnight, too :)

💠And sometimes he'll pull the "right after I do this" or "give me a few more minutes." If you aren't there to hold him to those words, he won't be in bed anytime soon. Occasionally, though, he does have a deadline, and occasionally he does like to procrastinate until the last minute, so as much as he really would like to go to bed, he really can't 😔 But maybe this time you can finally step in and help speed up the process! Even if you can't, at least stay up with him. You’ve come too far to go to bed lonely! Again. And he'll appreciate it too 😌 Besides, a tired Tony can easily become a reckless Tony, so maybe it's best you keep an eye on him? No last minute cuts or burns to clean, please! You already do that enough as it is 😮‍💨

💠If it’s been a few days since you stayed downstairs with him, or maybe even you’re out of town for a week or two, it'll somehow be even lonelier :( He often came down here to escape, but maybe it was just so he could feel shitty in private and you actually changed that :( and now even DUM-E doesn't want to work! And that's like the only thing he was programmed to do! You made work fun again! Playing with a holographic generator to make sure he doesn't pull the wrong wire first isn't as fun when you aren't there to snicker at the fake fire he starts (and a certain robotic assistant still tries to put it out), nor is it the same when that one song comes on. Maybe he'll make you your own helmet schemed with your favorite colors just because he misses you, and maybe because you just looked really good in his 😉

All the bonus gifs because I love him 🥰

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark headcanon #tony stark fic #iron man #iron man x reader #iron man fanfiction #iron man imagine #iron man drabble #tony stark drabble #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel headcanons #marvel fic

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fillingthescrapbook · 3 months

Text

Let's Talk About: Fantasy High Junior Year and Not All Who Wanda Are Lost

This is the first time I'm watching a Fantasy High season as it airs, instead of binging it--and I hate it! I am itching to see what happens next. Itching. Like I can't focus on anything else without having that itch scratched.

Also: two things right off the bat:

One. The bitch is back. This is not a drill. THE BITCH IS BACK.

Two. GORGUG AND ZELDA REALLY ARE BROKEN UP? GOSH DARN IT!

Okay, now that I've calmed down somewhat. The episode is also a bit of a breather after the high-octane and high-emotions of the first two episodes. We do get some answers to some questions, like: yeah, Gorgug and Zelda are indeed broken up. Cathilda is at Leviathan, which is why Fabian is all alone at the Seacaster Manor.

And, yes, the projections are very much alive. Which I love.

There's an energy surrounding the Intrepid Heroes that really makes their seasons engaging even when their characters are doing bits I don't agree with. I guess because we've seen them play the most in Dimension 20, we trust that we know where they are going. And that's really the main part of why their seasons work, isn't it? We trust them. Even when they make mistakes or flub a deception that Brennan can then use against them, we trust that they mean well. That they have a story to tell.

That's one of the reasons why I've held on judgment with what seemed to be a repeating storyline for Kristen in the first two episodes. Now that we've seen the third episode, it does make sense for Kristen to enter a cycle. It does make sense for her to treat Cassandra the way she treated YES!. And, of course, Brennan is going to use this to fuck with the Bad Kids.

And Brennan is setting up so many villains, and maybe some red herrings… But it's hard not to panic. It's hard not to go into a worry. Because, yeah, I am going into a worry.

I guess, though, this season's biggest villain is real life. Not real-real life. But real life for our bad kids. Reality isn't cut-and-dry. We don't defeat monsters and then get to live happily ever after. Because life continues. And consequences matter. So of course Gorgug doesn't get an approval to multi-class as an artificer. Because of course it doesn't make sense.

We got a taste of the financial villainy last episode when Sklonda and Riz discussed how good grades might not be enough for him to get into a good college. And now Adaine is facing the reality of what being a wizard with no rich parents means. While, on the opposite side of the spectrum, Fabian is realizing how having money might get you perks but it still doesn't shield you from getting bombarded with other problems.

And then there's Fig. Our beloved wild child whose past actions are now, quite literally, chasing after her. And the poetry of Ally setting up a Hilda Hilda callback just as Brennan reveals an investigation about a missing person's case at 22 Hilda Boulevard.

If you're reading up to here, you probably understand my reason for hating having to watch an episode at a time, right? Because I am itching to find out what happens next. For each Bad Kid.

Especially after that revelation in the end.

…

One last thing: I laughed way too much at Riz using the term "constituents" when referring to the student body of Aguefort Academy.

Also: is Brennan intentionally letting the Intrepid Heroes go off tangent so he could get his almonds in?

I guess that's last two things. Oops.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #d20 spoilers #brennan lee mulligan #emily axford #zac oyama #siobhan thompson #lou wilson #ally beardsley #brian murphy

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