#take shit a day at a time yanno

[mars-ipan]

watching my shitpost that took maybe a couple hours to make blow up way faster than the illustration i spent days on is. bittersweet.

#marzi speaks #like DON'T GET ME WRONG. i am happy to see other people found it as funny as i did #plus there's other factors to consider #ship art tends to be more popular than standalone character art. i posted the shitpost at a higher engagement time. etc #but sometimes. you see a simple joke get 50 notes in less than a day. and then you look at smth ur really proud of #and you see it got 24 notes total. several of which are you self-rbing #and you go :// #and that doesn't take into account oc art. that shit's lucky to make it to 5 notes #LIKE. I'M HAPPY. I LIKE WHEN PEOPLE GIVE ME NOTES OVERALL. #but. i DO wish it wasn't just shitposts that got notes yanno #also smth smth like to rb ratio gets wild you get the point #anywho. moral of this post. i'm not here to guilt anyone that's not my style #that said! rb more art. even if it's unironic. especially if it's someone's oc. you will make their day #'but i don't wanna be cringe' you're on tumblr. it's too late for that. go be free and rb art #if you wanna be EXTRA nice leave a nice comment in the tags. but rbs in general are appreciated

[bettysupremacy]

Steve-o

Summary: Steve thinks you’re very pretty, and desperately needs your number.

A/N: i love Steve. a lot.

The world stops for approximately 5 second when Steve Harrington first sees you. It’s heavy crashing infatuation that has Steve questioning, is love at first sight real?

He’s never been a believer in this sort of thing, you get to know them, you fall for them. At least, that’s how it was with Nancy. You can’t fall In love with a person you’ve never met, you don’t even know them. 

But that’s what Steve found so beautiful, the unknown. 

“Dude, why aren’t you walking?” Robin turns from where she stands, realizing Steve is no longer beside her.

“It’s her, Robs.” He breathes.

“It’s who?” 

“My soulmate, my pairing, my one true love.” He contradicts everything he believes in.

“Oh my god,” Robin groans annoyedly. “You cannot be serious right now, Steve.” 

He nods. “As a heart attack.” 

Papers scatter the Scoops Ahoy wheel table you sit at. They’re filled with words and colorful highlighter. Smart, he thinks, I know she’s smart.

“Get your ass over here and keep walking, we’re gonna be late.” He won’t budge. “God, please, Steve.”

“I need her number.” He shakes his head.

“You need one less late clock in.” 

Steve whines, breaking his eye sight on you for the first time. “Let me have this, Robs.” 

“I’ve let you have 3 late days, one more and Kieth said he’d fire your ass.” 

“Kieth says a lot of things.” He turns his head to her. “How do I ask? Name first? Number? Age?” 

“Well typically you introduce yours-“ 

“Fuck off, Robin, I know what I’m doing.” 

He takes a moment. Maybe he should’ve let Robin finish her advice, he’s never been this nervous to ask out a girl. 

“This level of melodramatic is a new low, Steve.” 

“Fuck off.” This pushes him to walk into Scoops. 

When he reaches the table, it’s an obvious realization that you’re studying. The papers are neat despite thrown around, and there’s a highlighter key next to your elbow. He feels guilty interrupting. 

Be normal! Repeats in his head like a mantra. God!

“Hi,” he starts, he feels like he could throw up. “I’m Steve.” 

You startle. “Hi, Steve.” 

He laughs nervously. Robin rolls her eyes so hard her head tilts back and her hands come up to cover her face exasperatedly. You smile. Steve doesn’t. 

He takes a look around the room awkwardly.  How could he ever stand these blue and red lights? “I used to work here yanno.” 

You nod. “You work in the video store now.”

“That I do.” He bounces in his new shoes, “Wait, have you been in?” 

“Yeah, I come every Saturday.” 

“No shit.” He breathes. You look taken aback, a little confused, a little offended.

“I mean! No shit, I would’ve remembered a face so pretty.”

“Good one, dingus.” 

“Take a walk.” He replies quickly. 

“Do you.. need something?” You ask carefully. His face crumples and something sick in your heart twists. “Not to be rude! I just- English 101 doesn’t finish itself.” 

“English 101! You go to Hawkins Community? I was gonna go, I just wanted a taste of hardworking minimum wage life first” his eyes widen, “not that what you’re doing isn’t hard work!” 

Can the world just cave in on him now? Shoot me.

“She asked a question, Steve-o” Robin puts in. Unhelpfully.

He glares at Robin. “I was wondering if I could get your number? It’s okay if not!” He adds quickly. “Just like- maybe we could go out sometime?” 

Your head spins, pretty boy comes and asks for your number? You can’t mess this up. 

“You like movies?” 

“Uhh duh,” Steve laughs. Robin doesn’t know how much more she can take of this. “Totally.” 

“You pick a movie,” You smile, “and come over Saturday. I’ve got a really big tv.” 

Now Steve may be nervous, but he wasn’t born yesterday. 

“Yeah!” He seems overeager. “Yeah,” he fixes. “I’ll pick out a movie.” 

“Okay.” You smile up at him.

He juts out his wrist. “You can write it.. here.” 

Your laugh cuts through his nerves like a sharp knife. “Yeah, okay.”

Pretty pink highlighter seeps into Steve’s unblemished wrist. He watches you write your number moonstricken. Your fingers press into his skin warmly and something turns in his tummy, you’re so pretty. 

“Well I’ll be seeing you..” He looks at his wrist, “Y/N.” 

“I’ll be seeing you, Steve-o” She takes from Robin. 

He laughs, turning to walk with Robin again. “Steve-o” he mouths. 

Robin is sure to have an aneurism. They were supposed to clock in 3 minutes ago. 

“You happy with yourself?” 

Steve grins, big and boyish. “Yeah, I am.” 

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #steve Harrington #steve harrington x fem! reader #steve harrington x reader #Steve x reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader fluff

[mournings-stars]

Alright so let's go with fluff for my fave angels Adam and lute

How would they react with their gf who's a magnet for kids?

Her ass would say that she's not fit to be a mom but kids immediately gravitate towards them and labels her as their mother figure, in mere minutes after they had met her

It'd be so adorable

"I don't know if I'll be a good mom." Then you see her giving a kid, whom she just met, piggy back rides. Like, they instantly trust her?? How????

i totally forgot this was in my drafts guys i swear im coming back LMFAOLO anyway this request is cute asl and i went a lil off topic but trust its still fluff

so first up we got adam

so adam is actually a kid person… once you’ve been around him a while

don’t get me wrong, he calls them “little shits” “gremlins” “hellspawn” whatever he can come up with, but he does want his own — like he was created for this… which when you think about it makes you a little more nervous because he would arguably be a good father in your eyes (idk ab arguably but just roll w me) just based off of this information right? you, on the other hand, weren’t made for this

“do you think i’d be a good mom?” you’d ask one day, totally out of the blue, and adam would probably choke on his own spit. “are you pregnant?” would be his first question, expression not giving away any kind of feeling he would have if you were. when you shake your head, he sighs and that makes you feel worse

but, like, it’s adam — he didn’t mean to make you feel bad, and he definitely thinks you’d be a good mom so after a while, sometime later that day, he’ll bring it up again cause he can tell you were overthinking things

“you know, if you were… yanno,” his eyes went to your stomach, “i’d be really fucking stoked.” and he kinda doesn’t know what you’re upset about, which is completely evident when he mentions how much of a milf you’d be before telling you how good of a mom you’d be, but at least he got there! and he made you laugh in the process

whenever you’re talking to an angel with a kid, adam will point out how the kids are always drawn to you; asking questions, talking with you, and even giving you hugs when you leave

he would not let you go on thinking you’re going to be a bad mom, like if you do ever express that you think you would be a bad mom, he’s not taking you seriously. “why don’t i put a baby in you and we can find out?” is his response, and, “adam!” is yours as he just shrugs

lute on the other hand

maybe you’re already working with kids, like you might work close with the church’s daycare or do some work (not teaching) at a school, so even though you don’t work directly with kids, you still see them often and that really makes you want a child of your own

when you tell lute this, you also tell her your worries about not being a good mom. at first she doesn’t say much, not wanting to invalidate your feelings… but she thinks they’re stupid

instead she talks to the daycare or school and sets you up with one of the programs after your usual shift, making another angel take the day off so that you had to cover for them on short notice

she’d come to bring you a snack in the middle of your shift and just see how good you are with the kids, reading to, playing with, and talking to them while they were just so drawn to you and wanting every bit of your attention

she’d definitely help you out, enjoying the opportunity to play house with you as you showed her what to do. then she’d stay until it was their nap-time. she didn’t bother saying what was obvious, knowing she’d proved your doubts wrong just by the way you smiled and laughed with the children

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel heaven #adam hazbin x reader #adam headcanons #adam hazbin #hazbin adam #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #lute headcanons #hazbin lute #lute hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #lute x reader #hazbin fluff #hazbin hotel fluff #adam fluff #lute fluff

[sparkles-and-trash]

dabi & shouto bonding + dabihawks, fluff

It's almost noon when Touya comes shuffling into the living room he shared with his boyfriend, PJ pants hanging low on his hips, no shirt in sight.

"Well, good mo-, no wait, good midday to me, handsome," Keigo quipped with a grin and Touya rolled his eyes.

Yeah, yeah, I'm a lazy bum, I know I know," Touya replied with a yawn and a stretch.

"We can't all just call home office and lunge around in sweats all day and call it work, yanno," he added and Keigo laughed.

"So staying up until 3 am gaming with Spinner and Tenko counts as work, now?" the hero asked with a sly smirk, and Touya sighed.

"I need a shirt for this conversation, and either their all in the wash or you stole some again, and I think we all know which one is true."

Keigo raised his eyebrows at that.

"I haven't taken any more than you've given me, I swear!" he said with hands raised in surrender, and Touya sighed dramatically.

"Well, what am I supposed to wear then?"

-

Listen, Touya loves Keigo.

Everything about him, actually.

Except for the fact that, ever since the war ended and the hero was allowed to develop his own style, that style turned out to be a mix between cottage core lesbian and confused grandpa.

Actually Touya didn't mind it when the clothes were on Keigo, he actually kinda loved it.

But while Keigo looked ridiculously hot in Touya's band shirts and big hoodies, Touya didn't quite have that same luxury.

So, there he sat, in a crowded coffee shop, a busy afternoon, out in public, with his white hair, scarred skin, piercings, tattoos, ripped black skinny jeans and... a very eclectically colored cardigan Touya suspected Keigo had dug out of a thrift store that should have been closed decades ago.

Yeah, fuck his life.

Just as the former villain pulled the bucket hat he had also borrowed from his boyfriend further down on his head in a vain attempt to hide he noticed the person he was here to meet come in trough the door.

"Shouto," Touya said out loud, raiding his hand to grab his brothers attention.

His dork of a younger brother smiled, as brightly as he ever did, and moved over to Touya quickly.

"Nii-san!" The young hero greeted and Touya huffed.

"Yeah yeah, sit down ya dork, I ordered you your..."

Touya's voice trailed off as Shouto took off his jacket.

"Todoroki Shouto, are you wearing my fucking shirt?!"

Shouto looked up at him with a hint of surprise on his face as he looked down on himself , before he nodded.

"Yes, it appears that I am," he said simply before happily taking a sip of his bubble tea.

Touya just stared at him.

"Why?" he finally asked as Shouto didn't elaborate.

Shouto took his time enjoying his tea before he answered.

"It's like a hand-over, it's normal for brothers to do, you know?" he replied with a shrug.

Touya blinked a few times trying to catch up.

"A hand... over?" he finally asked, trying his best to wrap his head around this.

He decided this was a bucket hat off situation, and just as he placed the hat down, Shouto picked ip back up and put in on his head.

"Like this, see?" the young hero said as if that answered all the questions.

Touya just stared back and Shouto sighed.

"Iida said he used to get his older brothers stuff all the time, Nii-san, I really think you're making too much out of this."

Oh.

Oh, god.

This poor, clueless, sweet bastard.

"You're talking about hand-me-downs, aren't you?" Touya finally asked, and Shouto nodded.

"Yes, that was the phrase."

Touya bit his lip, trying to figure out how to go about this without being too mean.

Look at him, all reformed and shit.

"Look Sho, I get that we have a lot of catching up to do, but if you want my stuff as hand-me-downs or whatever it'd be great if you asked first, okay?" Touya explained.

Shouto hummed.

"I must have misunderstood the tradition then, I apologize."

Touya huffed.

"It's okay, kid," he said with a small smile, and Shouto smiled back, before his gaze fell to the cardigan Touya was wearing and his brown furrowed.

"You can keep that one, though," Shouto said seriously, and Touya couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Yeah, I don't judge ya there, kid," he replied with a grin.

Before they parted ways a few hours later Touya quickly snapped a picture of Shouto in the bucket hat to send to Keigo with a warning that he'd probably never seen that hat again.

It was handed down now, after all.

#dabihawks #dabi #shouto todoroki #todosibs #todoroki siblings #todofam #hawks #keigo takami #touya todoroki #touya and shouto #shouto and touya #todoroki family #todoroki sibs #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha

[dragonflylady77]

The Birthday Wish

I decided on Wednesday afternoon to write a fic for Billy's birthday (on the Friday). Just pretend it's still 29 March, okay?

Gift for @spaceofentropy

You can find it on ao3

TW Neil Hargrove, child abuse

Steve drove up to the quarry, slowing right down when he noticed there was already a car there. A very familiar blue car.

“Fuck!” His evening was shit enough, having had to endure three hours of the Party as well as Jonathan and Nancy being all cozy on the couch at the Byers’ house for Will’s birthday, he didn’t fancy a confrontation with Billy Hargrove on top of that.

It was too late though, Hargrove would have noticed his car by now, for sure, and Steve knew he’d never hear the end of it if he turned tail now.

He parked alongside the Camaro and turned his engine off. He glanced to his left and did a double take when he noticed Hargrove was sitting on the hood of his car, a thin looking blanket on his lap. The guy was holding something but it was too dark, even with the nearly full moon, for Steve to see what it was.

Steve grabbed his parka from the backseat and put it on once he got out of his car.

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” Hargrove asked as Steve did his zipper up.

It was cold as balls, barely above freezing. “Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants,” he muttered under his breath, not expecting Hargrove to hear him but then he started laughing and Steve stared.

He couldn’t remember ever hearing Billy Hargrove laugh before. It was surprisingly heartwarming and Steve wished he could see his face properly. He stepped closer to the Camaro and peered at Billy. He had a can of beer between his thighs and was holding a cupcake.

Huh.

“You’re just in time, pretty boy,” Billy said, pulling his pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his denim jacket, followed by his Zippo and a… birthday candle.

“In time for what?” Steve asked, confused as fuck. He didn’t even react to the pet name, he was kinda used to it. Truth be told, he hadn’t heard it for a while, since he wasn’t at school anymore, and he kinda missed it, not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

“‘m turning eighteen in a few minutes,” Billy said around the cigarette between his lips. The flame of his lighter illuminated his face for a couple of seconds, long enough for Steve to see the black eye and the dried blood on his cheek.

“The fuck happened to you, Hargrove?”

Billy shrugged. “Neil didn’t take too kindly to Maxine reminding him it was my birthday. He expressed his displeasure before I dropped her off for her sleepover at the Byers’.”

“Excuse me, but what the fuck?”

“Don’t worry about it, princess. I’m just glad he gave me time to pack a bag before he kicked me out.”

“Kicked you out? On your birthday? Again, what the fuck?” Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Well, yanno, I’m eighteen now, legally an adult, so I have to fend for myself or some such,” Billy said, checking the time on his watch and pressing the sad looking candle into the frosting of his blue cupcake.

Steve watched him light the candle, his heart in his throat as he connected some dots. What kind of parent kicked their kid out the day they turned eighteen? What kind of monster beat up their kid because it was their birthday? Holy shit .

Billy made eye contact with Steve before he closed his eyes for a moment and blew out his birthday candle.

“What d’you wish for?”

Billy grinned before he removed the candle and put it back in his pocket. “Can’t tell you, Stevie, or it won’t come true.”

“Happy birthday, Billy.”

“Thanks.” Billy ripped the cupcake in two and offered one of the halves to Steve, who took it with a nod. 

Steve looked at it then back at Billy.

“It’s not poisoned, in case you’re wondering,” Billy said before he moved off the center of the hood and patted the space beside him. “Come sit with me, I promise I won’t bite.”

Holding his half cupcake, Steve sat on the edge of the Camaro’s hood before sliding closer to Billy. The metal was still a bit warm and it made Steve feel something he didn’t care to analyze.

“What are you gonna do?” Steve asked as he took a bite. The frosting was really sweet, and the cupcake vanilla flavored.

Billy shrugged again. “Sleep in my car, I guess, shower at school, or something, I dunno. Neil didn’t find the money I’ve been saving but it’s not enough for a motel, not to last until graduation, anyway.”

“Billy, it’s way too cold to be sleeping in your car. You’ll freeze to death!”

“Cute that you think anyone will care, Harrington.” Billy laughed and this time, it made Steve shiver. Unlike before, there was no happiness in that laugh. “Not sure you’ve noticed but literally no one gives a fuck about me. No one at school. Certainly no one at the house on Cherry Lane.”

“Max cares,” Steve countered. You care , a voice in his mind added but he shushed it.

“She only cares because I’m her ride to places and it saves her having to walk everywhere. I have zero illusions about where I stand.” Billy balled up the paper case of his cupcake and threw it into the bushes.

“Surely—” Steve was sure Billy was wrong about Max.

“Nah, pretty boy. It’s fine. Don’t worry your pretty head about it. Just promise me, when they find me dead in a ditch, make up some good stories about me at my funeral, okay?” His empty beer can went the way of the cupcake case.

“That’s not funny.”

“Like I said, not your problem,” Billy said, an edge in his voice that Steve was wary of. “You should head home before your parents wonder what happened to you.”

Steve snorted. “My parents are somewhere in Europe, and they don’t give a fuck.”

“Aww Stevie, I’m sure that’s not true.”

“They showed up on Christmas Day and told me I had six months to sort myself out because they were putting the house on the market on July 1. I’m lucky my mom talked my dad out of cutting me off when I didn’t get into college.”

“Ouch.” Billy winced. “What are you gonna do?”

Steve shrugged. Working at Family Video was all well and good but it wasn’t really a long term plan. “Saving most of my shitty wages until I have to leave, then, I don’t know. Indy, maybe. Or Chicago, I guess.”

“You need to think bigger, princess. There’s a whole world out there. Where’s somewhere you’ve always wanted to go? What’s on your list?”

Steve took a moment to really think about it, watching his breath make little clouds of steam every time he exhaled. His ass was getting cold as well, sitting on the cooling metal. Billy’s blanket looked even thinner up close than it had earlier. It was time to move this party somewhere else.

“Hey, don’t feel like you have to say yes, or anything, but you wanna come back to my house? It’ll be warmer than here. I’ll even make us some food if you want.”

Billy didn’t punch his lights out or say no outright, so Steve counted that as a win. Billy gave him a confused look.

“Didn’t you have dinner at that weird kid’s birthday party? I saw your car there.”

“Yeah, well, sitting across from my ex and her new boyfriend kinda killed my appetite. I’m starving.”

“I didn’t realize you could cook, Stevie,” Billy said, taking one last drag of his cigarette before pressing the butt of it to the underside of his boot and dropping it in the dirt.

“My parents have been taking progressively longer trips ever since I was twelve, so I had to learn. There’s only so many frozen pizzas and boxed mac and cheese a guy can eat before he craves real food.”

***

Billy followed Steve to Loch Nora and parked his Camaro next to the bimmer in the Harringtons’ vast garage. He wasn’t too sure what was happening, but the promise of warmth, food and company definitely beat sleeping in his car at the quarry with the shitty blanket he’d sneaked out of Cherry Lane. 

He left his boots by the door in the foyer and spent a moment taking in what he could see of his former teammate’s house. The Harringtons lived on the other end of the spectrum when it came to income bracket, no doubt about it. For starters, they had an upstairs and what looked like a formal lounge and, oh yeah, was that a freaking pool ?

“Billy?” Steve called out and Billy startled.

“Yeah?” he replied, wandering towards the voice and the light. The kitchen was bigger than his bedroom at Neil’s house, with a double oven and too many cupboards to count.

“Hey, there you are,” Steve looked up at him from the freezer. “You okay with gnocchi?”

“Um, I guess. Never had them.”

Steve smiled at him and Billy felt something warm unfurl in his chest. He was having trouble remembering why this crush he’d been harboring on Steve was a bad idea, what with the way Steve was finally giving the attention he’d been craving since the first day.

He sat on the bar stool by the breakfast bench and watched as Steve put a big pot of water on the stove. Steve kept telling Billy what he was doing as he was doing it, explaining it was a recipe he’d found in a cookbook his parents had brought back from one of their trips.

The butter and sage smelled delicious and Billy couldn’t wait to try this dish. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken the time to cook for him. Susan’s cooking skills were not the best and she cooked whatever Neil demanded anyway. One of the upsides of being kicked out was that Billy would never have to pretend to enjoy Susan’s bland, dry meatloaf.

Billy realized Steve was calling his name and he looked over at him. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Dinner is ready. You wanna watch a movie while we eat?”

Billy nodded, at a loss to explain why Steve was being so nice to him. It wasn’t like they were friends. Yeah, sure, Billy had apologized after the fight that night back in November, but the few times he’d taken Max to the video store, he’d stayed in the car to avoid any awkwardness.

Now he’d shared his birthday cupcake with the guy and they were sitting down on his expensive looking couch to watch a movie, with a beer and delicious smelling food Steve had made for them. Almost made Billy forget about Neil whaling on him and kicking him out of the house.

He expected Steve to sit on the other end of the couch but he sat right next to Billy instead, his thigh warm against Billy’s. They ate in silence, and Billy did his best to pay attention to the plot of the movie Steve had picked but he was too distracted to care much. He hadn’t been this close to Steve since basketball practice and it was making his heart race.

Billy was trying not to read too much into the prolonged physical contact. He’d already been punched once tonight, he wasn’t looking for a repeat. Resisting the urge to put his hand on Steve’s thigh was getting harder and Billy wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to control his body’s reaction. That was an embarrassing situation he could do without, not to mention extremely awkward. 

He put his empty plate on the coffee table and stood up, asking Steve for directions to the bathroom before telling him he didn’t need to pause the movie. Billy then rushed out of the living room and locked the bathroom door behind him, resting against it for a minute. Fuck. Maybe he should leave, head over to the Motel 6 for the night and work out what to do tomorrow. 

Once he was done in the bathroom, he headed for the kitchen and got a glass of water to give himself some time. 

“You okay?” Steve asked from the doorway and Billy startled.

“Y-yeah, just, um, needed a drink.” He drained the last of his water and put the glass in the sink. “Look, Steve, it’s really late. I’ll… um, I’ll get out of your hair. Thanks for dinner but I better be going.”

“What? No.” Steve walked into the kitchen and stopped in front of Billy. “Why?”

Because if I stay I’ll probably get a boner and try to kiss you…

Billy ran a tired hand through his hair. “It’s just… it’s better this way.”

“Better for who?” Steve asked, not budging when Billy tried to move past him.

“Steve…”

“Listen, Billy, I’m sorry.” 

“What?”

Steve’s hand made it halfway to Billy before he dropped it at his side and wasn’t that a mindfuck? “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by sitting so close to you on the couch. I just…”

“You just…?” Billy’s fingers twitched with the need to reach out to the boy in front of him. He could feel Steve’s eyes on him, a phantom touch that heated up his skin, so for once, he let himself look. Steve’s hair looked like he’d been raking his fingers through it, his brown eyes fixated on Billy, the moles dotting his cheek and his neck, the yellow jumper that looked so soft. 

Billy didn’t let his gaze move below the belt, instead trailing back up to Steve’s mouth, his lips looking so fucking kissable. And so close. Huh? Before Billy could fully process that Steve had closed the gap between them, Steve leaned forward, cupping Billy’s face with both hands, and pressed their mouths together.

The contact was brief. Too soon, Steve pulled away, dropping his hands and taking a step back, eyes wide, like he suddenly realized the enormity of what he’d done. Billy grabbed him by the waist with both hands and pulled him close, capturing Steve’s lips and unleashing a year and a half of pent up yearning and pining. 

Billy found himself pressed against the side of the fridge, Steve’s tongue in his mouth and Steve’s arms around his neck. The kiss went from soft and exploratory to frantic and thrilling. Billy couldn’t get enough. He could feel Steve getting hard against his belly and it was intoxicating.

They broke the kiss when breathing became an issue but didn’t move away from each other.

“Stay,” Steve whispered against his lips and Billy nodded.

Later, tangled with Steve in his bed, naked and sated, Billy told Steve in hushed whispers how he’d wanted to kiss him since the Halloween party at Tina’s. Steve told Billy of all the times he’d stamped down on the attraction he was feeling because he believed it would never go anywhere. Billy laughed when Steve said he’d thought Billy was straight, then told him about Neil.

Over breakfast the next morning, Billy told Steve he’d secretly applied to colleges in California, and Steve told him he’d never seen the ocean. They started making plans.

***

Billy stepped off the stage on Graduation Day and walked past his classmates and the rest of the crowd until he reached the parking lot. Steve and Max were leaning against the Camaro, chatting animatedly. Max ran to him when she spotted him and they hugged.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, Billy!” she cried when he let go of her.

“You can come visit, shithead,” he replied with a grin. Being with Steve had helped repair their relationship and Billy had had to admit that Steve was right and Max did care. 

“You better write me when you get there.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I promised, didn’t I?”

They hugged one last time then Steve said his goodbyes and they got into the car.

Billy told Steve he could picked a tape and a lone birthday candle fell out of the glove box when Steve opened it.

“You never did tell me about your birthday wish, Billy,” Steve said, holding the candle up with two fingers.

Billy smiled as he pulled away from the lot. “I guess I can tell you now, since it came true.”

“Oh?”

“You were my wish, pretty boy.”

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #billy hargrove's birthday #dragonflylady77 #the birthday wish

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hello, I loved your Minho stories and I want to make a request. Minho and female reader are in a dangerous situation and one of those saves the other and the one that's been saved kisses the others cheek as a thank you and the tension is like super high. Thank you♡♡

Ooo yesss finally I get to write some action! I've been waiting for this.

Also, I know it's not really fluff, but that was the only category I write that I could fit this in on my masterlist lmao.

HIDE AND SEEK

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, pure unbridled panic.

"Will you hurry your ass up?" Minho shouts from ahead of you, already irritated by your slower pace than him.

You're a Runner. Well, you're going to be a Runner. You're currently in your awkward training phase, which means that until you get good enough to run on your own, you're stuck with the grumpy and sarcastic Keeper.

Honestly, Minho was reluctant to agree to it. You're a girl- the only girl, and he's not exactly prepared to deal with you or your shit. So, when Alby put you forward to be a Runner after one of the boys got injured, Minho was quick to decline.

He figured you wouldn't be able to handle it but he was swiftly reminded by Newt about your first day.

It was definitely a Greenie day to be remembered. First, a girl shows up, shocking everyone.

And then you ran.

Unbelievably fast, grabbing the sides of the metal cage of the Box, hurling yourself up, and using the boys' momentary confusion to make your escape. It wasn't unusual for Greenies to run; there's actually an on-going inside joke about it.

What stunned them was when Gally caught you as he'd ran from another direction, and you socked him so hard in the jaw that the Med-jacks thought he'd broke it. It's a bit of a blur now, but you managed to take down three boys twice your size before Newt hit you in the head with a shovel.

You still have the scar.

Honestly, Minho wishes he would've been there to see it, but alas, he was not. Though the uproar he returned to was like no other.

Your fiery energy and impossibly high stamina is perfect for running the Maze, and Minho was forced to accept that.

"Hey!" He grinds to a halt, spinning around and snapping at you, "The shuck are ya doin'? We gotta move!"

You had stopped in front of one of the walls, examining the lettering under the ivy.

"There's words!"

"Yeah! I know, come on!"

You groan.

Minho is relentless. At first, you were thrilled you were getting some alone time with the very attractive Runner- but you quickly came to learn he's just as draining as any other boss you'd have.

"I'm just looking, man," you jog over to him, "what's the big deal? We're already ahead of schedule."

"That doesn't mean we can stop. I told you- we can never-"

"Yeah, yeah, 'never stop running'. I know, I know. Just lemme be curious for a second, a'ight?"

"We don't have time for that," he starts walking ahead, preparing himself to break into another sprint before actually doing it.

"Sure we do; it's kinda like the whole point of the gig," he raises his eyebrow, looking at you over his shoulder, "yanno? To be curious about the Maze?"

Minho doesn't even bother responding, probably because you're right, but he's never going to admit when he's wrong. He takes off running again, and you huff, grumbling to yourself that he doesn't have to be such a dick. But you still follow him without hesitation.

He turns another corner. Then another. And another.

Until he stops dead in his tracks. He stops so suddenly you nearly run straight into the back of him, just managing to slow in time.

"What are you doing?" You hiss, but he looks back at you, anger flashing in his eyes for a second before he presses a finger to his lips, telling you to shut up.

He then points ahead and you follow his finger, eyes widening at the sight.

Around the next corner, you can see the long, sectioned tail of a Griever. Its scorpion-inspired stinger on full display as you suck in a deep breath.

"Back up," he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper as you're frozen behind him, "slowly."

You nod feverishly, taking a step backwards. Suddenly, you've become his best student yet, ready to listen to anything and everything he tells you to do.

Minho follows suit, not letting the creature out of his sight, and you're preparing yourself to make a straight sprint back to the Glade. Maybe he was right- this Runner shit might not be for you.

"Okay," he basically hums, "once we're back round the corner, run for it."

"Sounds like a plan," you attempt to push out, but your knees are shaking as adrenaline makes your heartbeat jump into your ears.

You take another cautious step back and Minho is quick to follow.

Only for you to almost pass out from fear when a load mechanical screech shakes the walls of the Maze. You don't even get to see that the Griever has turned around, but judging by Minho's reaction, it had.

"Go! Go! Run!" You scramble slightly, your hands hitting the floor from how fast you spin around. Minho half catches you, even though you don't need him to. He pushes you forward, giving you an unnecessary but appreciated head start.

Minho is hot on your heels as you bolt through the Maze, allowing you to take the lead. Not that he has much choice.

"Minho!" You're suddenly overwhelmed with concern for the boy and you glance over your shoulder.

"Don't look back!" He yells, breath heavy and his footsteps hitting the solid floor that echos through the walls. "Don't worry about me, alright? Just run!"

You caught a brief glimpse of the monstrosity hunting you down. It's surprisingly fleshy, its bulbous skin is shiny, and multiple metal arms stick out aimlessly in multiple directions as small spikes cover its slimey body.

You'll be seeing that in your nightmares.

You're fast to turn another corner, nearly tripping over some vines- 'breadcrumbs' as Minho calls them -that you'd cut off of the wall earlier.

"Hey, watch out for-" you have no time to fully warn Minho as his foot catches on the severed plant, his body tumbling to the floor.

You stop immediately, your companion taking forefront in your list of concerns as you run towards him. He's quick to get back on his feet, your grasping hands doing very little to actually help him.

"Come on! Come on!" You shout as Minho finds his feet again.

The Griever is closer now, the clicking and whirring noises are far too close for comfort as you start running again. It's right behind you as it suddenly dives forward.

It bumps against Minho, knocking him down and colliding with you, forcing you onto the floor as you roll a few feet, groaning.

The creature is quick to get on top of you. It's metal spider legs trap you in place as it's gross, dripping mouth opens, letting out a terrifying scream that sounds like a mix of animal and machine.

You cry out in response as it lifts its tail, holding the pointed syringe that's attached above your head. It's almost teasing you, like it enjoys watching you squirm and scream for your life.

Out of nowhere, a rock hits the creature square in the head as Minho stands stunned, his chest rising as falling. The Griever lifts its face away from yours to face him, and he immediately backs away as it lets out another ferocious animalistic noise.

You take the opportunity to squeeze between its legs, just managing to slip through. Half-crawling, half-running, you rush to Minho.

He grabs you, yanking you up straight as you run back in the direction you just came from. The Griever is slow to react to this.

As you remember Minho saying; "they're dangerous bastards, but dumb as klunk."

You both take what you can get, the pure stress distracting both of you as Minho is still yet to let go of your hand.

"Come on," he's almost breathless, something you've never seen before, "I've got an idea."

You blindly follow him. Not that you have much choice as he's practically dragging you.

You're definitely not cut out for this type of work yet. Your sides burn as anaerobic reparation kicks in and the muscles in your legs feel like they're about to give in at any second.

You turn another corner, and Minho sharply pulls you to the right. He starts rummaging around the ivy, muttering to himself. "C'mon, c'mon!"

"What are you doing?" You snap, your voice breaking. He ignores you.

"Yes!" He pulls back a chunk of ivy to reveal a dip in the wall. It's small, less than a metre long and a few feet deep into the wall.

He steps into it, his back pressed to the side as he ushers you to join him. You pause for a second until the noises of the approaching amalgamation of horrors fills your ears.

He pulls you in with him, and you struggle to fit, your back against the other side and your front to his. He reaches out, pulling the ivy that falls back in place, covering you both back up.

The ivy acts as a blanket, light breaking in and reflecting off of Minho's face, which is beaded with sweat. You both hold your breath as you hear the creature cover the ground of the stretch of corridor.

You screw your eyes shut, only allowing yourself to open them once the shadow of the creature passes.

You look at Minho. His head is thrown back against the wall as his chest rises and falls, relief visibly washing over him.

Several minutes pass as you both will your bodies to calm down. Your body has turned to mush, and you're sure that if it weren't for Minho and the wall, you would've collapsed by now.

"Are you okay?" Your voice comes out as strained and scratchy. To your surprise, Minho scoffs.

"Are you?"

"Yeah," you pant out, "I think so."

"Not stung, are ya?"

"You didn't give it chance." He scoffs again. "How'd you know this was here?"

"I've run this thing every day since I can remember," he explains as you look at him, "I know these walls like the back of my hand."

It's impressive. It really is. What Minho's capable of is almost superhuman. The Maze is huge- you've run his routes with him for a couple of days, and that's just the parts he normally covers. This little crevice isn't even on his normal path, yet he knew almost exactly where it was.

Neither of you moved for a while, only now becoming aware of how close you are. Your chests are pushed together, and your faces are merely inches apart. The whole thing would be very hot if you hadn't just nearly fucking died.

"Alright, come on," Minho reaches out, pushing the leaves out of his way again and shuffling to fit out, trying his best not to push against you more than he has to.

Once out, he holds the plant in place as he jolts his head, gesturing you to join him, "We're good. It's clear."

You nod, also stepping out of your safe place, taking an anxious look either side. Just in case.

"We're going back to the Glade, right? 'Cause fuck continuing after that." He attempts to give you a smirk but it falls flat.

"Yeah, we're going back. When klunk like this happens, we normally call it a day. There's only so much I can take, too."

Neither of you have the energy to break into anything more than a jog, but time is on your side, so it's not a problem. You also want to save your remaining energy for another potential Griever attack.

The events of what just happened flash before your eyes, and it doesn't take a genius to realise you'd be dead if it weren't for the boy. You trail behind again but he doesn't shout at you this time.

You're not as used to dealing with this as he is, after all.

As the Glade slowly approaches, your new feelings of appreciation run strong as the experience slowly starts to sink in.

You owe Minho your life- you owe him everything. If he didn't think fast and throw that rock, you would've been stung. Or worse. You shiver at the thought.

But that doesn't stop you from picking up pace slightly, catching up to him. Delicately, you touch his wrist. You know you're safe here- Grievers don't come this close to the Glade in the day.

"Hey, Minho," he glances at his wrist and then up to your face.

"Yeah?" Your words fail you for a second. Even in his disheleved state, he still looks pretty, and the way he's looking at you right now could make you melt. He seems softer than before, almost like he's coming to terms with what's happened himself.

Instead of speaking, you stand on your tiptoes, leaning in and planting a kiss on his cheek.

You pull away, examining his face. The harmless gesture has made Minho's face red. Well, redder, at least, as blush dusts his tanned skin.

"Thank you," you whisper, your faces almost as close as when you were hiding in the wall.

"For what?" It's not cocky. He seems genuinely dumbfounded at what you could possibly be appreciative of.

"For saving my life. Duh."

His eyes flicker to your lips, seemingly unintentionally as his body turns more towards you. The action makes butterflies form in your stomach, causing all the fatigue to evaporate from your aching muscles.

He leans in further and you don't move, your noses brushing for a second until you jolt backwards, startled as a voice reaches you from the Glade.

"The shuck are you shanks doing back here?" Alby's deep voice sounds like a frown, "It's not even lunch yet!"

Minho passes you one more look. A look that's full of an emotion you can't quite read.

"We nearly shuckin' died, you slinthead!" He shouts, stepping away from you and towards the Leader lingering at the Doors. "That's what!"

You're left standing in the corridor. You can hear Minho already start to bicker with the older boy, who seems more irritated than concerned for your well-being.

You can still feel the ghost of Minho's close presence lingering around you, causing another adrenaline spike. Your heart is pounding in your chest like it's trying to break free from your ribcage.

For the second time today.

This was genuinely so fun to write. I literally sat down and wrote it in one sitting. I really liked this promt and just knew I had to do it as soon as I saw it.

Requests are still open, and I hope you enjoyed :))

#🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri tmr minho #🍃 petri tmr #🌿 petri writes tmr #minho maze runner #minho tmr x reader #minho the maze runner #minho tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr imagines #tmr minho #the maze runner

[radioactivedragonbones]

Back In The Ol' Days [2014] we had the punk/nerd AU... but I have my gripes with the PNAU; it feels outdated to me. In 2014 I ate that shit up, but it's 2024 and the rampant micro-trends have me re-thinkin modern Hijack portrayals...

So here I am to propose a new PNAU: Grunge X Emo.

Hiccup as a cozy grunge kind of guy- basically just classic comfy casual clothes but with earthy tones, ripped up jeans covered in motor oil stains, and loose flannel shirts over worn-out tees.

Jack as a casual emo kind of guy- Skinny jeans with rips (often on the end of the legs cause they annoy them when they're too long), tight band tees, and his classic hoodie he can disappear into the shadowy hood of to sulk.

Elaboration ⬇️

I think it could be fun to explore the way Hiccup has a ton of hand-me-downs and spends a lot of time patching up old clothes, or adding custom painted patches to his bags. Maybe he knows how to sew just from patching/mending. I like that in the movies we see him doing bith heavy work in the forge, and having gentle hands as an artist. I think he'd be good at a ton of different diy skills and put them to practical use with his wardrobe.

In canon, Hiccup does have a lot of leftist and punk ideology; The Edge is literally equal-ownership equal-imput everyone else just decides he runs the show. And he literally changes the dominant mindset of the society he lives in to better the life of both his people and the ones they've been at war with for decades. Hes pretty punk... but I don't see him going so far aesthetically as to be a full Spiky Punk TM. He's always on the move, working on something, or chilling outside with Toothless, so I think a more casual comfortable style suits him. Though I do think he would like jackets with extra straps and buckles on the pockets and stuff, and maybe a good belt bag + leatherman combo. Totally the type to always have a pocket knife. He'd paint himself patches and slap a few of em on his bags, coats, maybe over that burn hole in his jeans that's been annoying him. He'd favor practicality over aesthetic, but he still has a sense of style. As he gets older he probably leans into the edgier style, wearing more black and red combos, more strappy belts/coats/bags, and even gets a few tattoos. But I do see him as a grungey earthy engineering guy with comfy, often oversized silhouettes.

Jack I could see being super impulsive and latching onto pop culture; something emos were notorious for. I, personally, was clamoring for a branded tee shirt the moment I deemed a band good enough to youtube->mp3 to my ipod. I could see Jack doing that kind of thing, and latching onto this misunderstood invisible-yet-visibly-different identity. He probably favors dark blue, brown, and black. Deffinitely the type to get on the colored jeans trend when it hit. Maybe he even doodles little swirling patterns on his clothes when he's bored- an adhd habit I know all too well.

Without being, yanno, dead, Jack's Different Look would probably come just from him wanting to express himself. He feels isolated and finds it hard to make lasting friends because when people *do* notice him, they tend to see him more as a silly little jester than a person worth getting to know. He copes with humor and trying to get attention every now and again but ends up with a closer knit group of oddballs. He's good with kids, of course, and tends to take on a cool-big-brother to anyone in need of one. All of this playing into this casual and easy-going but edgy, kinda emo look. He probably listens to sad emo music while sitting on a roof, staring at the moon, contemplating his purpose in life. He pretty much does that in his movie so it isn't much of a stretch lol.

Anyways, feel free ro give your 2 cents and build onto or off of this as you please, I'm just brainstorming I guess. Thinkin aloud... visually. I tend to like psychoanalyzing characters and it's interesting to me to think of Hic & Jack's canon portrayals and what they would mean in a modern-human AU.

#mad ramblings #grunge/emo AU #hijack #AU ideas i guess #i psychoanalyze pixels #because i love them #frostcup

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

Hear me out I am very high from a edible rn but HEAR ME OUT DUDE

so we all know Chris Evans and his absolute slutty build like cmon he literally was nicknamed the human dorito bc slutty waist

Anyways thinking about that one promo pic of Chris in the cap suit with his back turned to the camera and his ass is just perfect ANYWAYS FR THIS TIME

Thinking about stucky but not like dating but Bucky being obsessed with Steve’s absolutely slutty figure and once the two get close to being fully retired Steve gets bigger as he slowly grows accustomed to taking it easy for once. but not exactly just fatter everything is the same but somehow softer and bigger. His thighs spread out more when he sits his chest is massive not quite defined pecs but far from being flabby moobs they’re just huge, his abs are long gone but he doesn’t have a round gut (Atleast when he’s empty) and the best part that makes bucky go crazy is his love handles , ass, and thighs, all perfectly packed together in one big package that makes Bucky lose his shit. Steves ass has nearly doubled but it’s still a perfect bubble butt, and his thighs have filled out enough to close any gap that might’ve occurred even when he has a wide stance. (Think those really chunky frat boys that manspread and their thighs are still somehow touching) BUT Steve’s suit and most of his wardrobe hasn’t changed so his clothes just accentuate his assets. His thighs and ass taking up most of the room in his pants and they perfectly leave Steve’s bulge completely on display almost like a gift from god to Bucky. Anyways I’m sure if you did add to this you’d be able to express that better than I could! And if you don’t THATS ALSO COOL (pls by no means feel like you have to answer this right away )

THIS HAS VIBES 🤤🤤

You know what kind of vibes? Exhibitionist Captain America vibes from this post by iwritetheweirdstuff

And I assume you're talking about this photo, which I nabbed from forchrisevans

Okay, shit...

Now you just have me thinking about chunky but still super fucking muscular Steve. I’m going off the rails over here, biting and clawing at my enclosure. I don’t think this rambling is actually totally related to your original idea, so just know I love your original idea!

But this reaoly gets me because Steve would be such a fucking classic MAN. Yanno? Big and heavy and robust. He looks like he could take Bucky in his big, beefy arms and rip him apart. He’s healthy. Hefty. Rippling muscles hidden under this layer of pudge.

Yum.

Unbeta'd stucky belly kink ahead. Warning for weight gain, muscle chub talk, tight clothes, Bucky being a little creepy by drooling over Steve before they're an item, etc.

Before gaining weight and when he was wearing the title of Captain American so tightly that it was suffocating him to the point that he was unforgiving of himself, never good enough as Steve Rogers, Steve was like a Thoroughbred. A racehorse, smooth and lean, with a single objective. Win. But now that he’s looser with the title and deciding what he wants for himself, more often calling himself a nomad than going by Cap… now he’s gruff, ignoring the rules (ignoring them even more than he did before, which is saying something for a troublemaker like him), and he’s like a Clydesdale. He’s a tank.

A fucking beast.

When he’s running, you get out of the fucking way because of all the mass behind that force. If you let him collide with you at full speed, full force… it ain’t pretty. His feet pound the ground. Jesus wept. These days his chest, belly, and ass shake when he runs, even when his big, big body is wrapped tightly in all that deep, navy-blue Kevlar. The sight just destroys Bucky.

Bucky can’t fucking fight next to him anymore when they’re called in for Avenging every now and again, half-retired as they are. It was bad enough when Steve was that Thoroughbred, rippling lean muscle and a shiny, bright blond head of short hair. Always distracting Bucky. But now it’s worse because Steve is a Clydesdale with this heft to him and his dirty blond hair and dark, thick beard. He’s even letting his body hair grow in, and it’s all Bucky can do to not faint, landing face-first into the deepening cleavage between his robust pecs, inhaling the musk of him. Every time Steve grunts with the effort of punching or kicking or tearing some offending villain to pieces, Bucky swears he feels faint. He has this completely involuntary feral reaction to the burly man he’s become. Hunky. Stocky. Ripped. Hefty. Whatever fucking word there is for the built he’s got going… it makes Bucky’s mouth water.

Of course, Steve’s still only two inches taller - 6’2” to Bucky’s 6’0” - but suddenly he feels a whole foot taller, and he feels twice as wide as Bucky. Those broad shoulders are only made wider, reinforced by the extra protein he’s eating, thickening his muscles and adding soft pudge; his pecs are still high and tight but even more… they’re swollen almost, added to by an irresistible layer of fat that Bucky has the primal urge to bite; the abs he had once upon a time, defined enough to use as a washboard have softened, especially after a hearty meal like a good lumberjack’s breakfast or a caveman’s dinner, just, these big plates with plenty of meat piled onto them, which turn his stomach into this drool-worthy curve, a little belly that sticks around until he somehow manages to digest it all; that fucking ass made even rounder and more shapely to the point that his pants all strain across it, his sweats especially, nearly splitting down the middle whenever he gets out of his comfy recliner; his thighs, oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, they’re ripe, rubbing together and trying to bust outta his jeans, his sweats, even his Captain America uniform.

Bucky has it bad.

If he weren’t so focused on trying to not let his animal out, growling and just fucking tackling Steve to the floor, he would feel terrible for how much he’s sexualizing his best pal. It seems no matter what he’s doing, Bucky’s caveman brain is thinking about how to best peel him out of his too-small clothes. Too tight when he was lean with rippling muscles, barely any body fat on him, and especially too fucking tight now when he has this delicious extra give to him. He looks like a size two sausage stuffed into a size one casing. Bucky curses his wardrobe at the same time that he would fall to his knees and thank it with his hands pressed together, praying to it. He wants to be there for the day that Steve busts out of it after a heavy, hearty, indulgent dinner.

‘Cause, listen, Bucky’s spank bank is just overflowing these days:

When the most recent battle is done and Steve bends over to pick up a fucking massive slab of concrete, he unintentionally gives Bucky a front-row seat to his thick ass. His curves barely fit in his uniform these days. Honestly, Bucky doesn’t know how he puts that godforsaken, tight-as-hell uniform on by himself anyway. And he doesn’t want to think about it. Not in public! The only way he can imagine it happening is with Steve naked save for a jock strap, alone in his room. First, he steps into the legs, then he works it up his calves, getting it to his thighs where it gets stuck. He’s outgrowing it. It’s a tight fit, but he still fits for now. At least, he fits when he shimmies and wiggles into it. Better than a damn stripper. Moving his body in this unintentionally, totally sexy way. Wiggling. Pulling. Squirming. Even jumping while he’s at it, pulling hard at the thick Kevlar, his biceps bulging - they’re bigger than Bucky’s fucking head now - grunting as he holds his breath, sucking in. Sucking in! His chest expanding without his pudgy, starter belly going anywhere, stubborn and jiggly.

Whenever he bends over, he gives Bucky a show, really. It doesn’t matter where they are...

When he’s bent over looking at the leaky pipe under their kitchen sink, his waist filling more of the open cabinet than it once would have. While he’s down there, his shirt rolls up over his soft little hips, the new weight just beginning to accumulate there. The start of what could be real love handles someday.

When he’s looking through the bottom drawer of the fridge, doing a head count before they head out for groceries. He’s not dressed yet, though, so he doesn’t have a belt to hold his pants up and his sweats slide down the shelf of his ass, displaying just enough of his asscrack for Bucky to feel starved, meaning he’s extra grumpy at having to wander around an overcrowded store. Shoulder to shoulder with strangers. Hungry and horny.

When he’s drawing on the couch and he accidentally lets a pencil fall onto the floor, so he has to get up, but, oops, it looks like it must’ve rolled under the couch so he gets even lower. Onto his knees and forearms. Searching blindly for the pencil… blind to Bucky’s eyes, perving out on how his thighs touch from the back now, his legs getting just as thick as his ass is. And it’s thick.

When he’s doing stretches on their balcony in the morning, breathing in the fresh air, doing some cat-cows, and inadvertently displaying his new belly that’s still rumbling through last night’s dessert. A classic, couple 'a slices of pie and ice cream. Too much pie and ice cream judging by how distended his belly looks.

When they’re getting some of their energy out now that they’re not constantly going out and avenging, half-retired, by sparing with each other in the gym. Sparing, kind of wrestling, too. They’re not trying to be tactical about it, they’re just having fun, being big kids, reminiscent of the days when they’d pull the mattress off the bed and start to play fighting on the floor. But they aren’t kids and Steve isn’t so much smaller than him, so Bucky doesn’t have to focus on finding that perfect balance of holding back just enough where it doesn’t seem like he is but he’s also not at risk of pushing Steve’s frail body too far. Now they can really whale on each other. Which is fun… until it isn’t. Because Bucky is laughing and sweating and actually starting to feel tired, and then he’s pinned, and he’s choking back a moan, sweating harder. Steve is on top of him. Steve is crushing him. Steve’s big, hot chest is against his back - Bucky can feel how he’s sweating through his skintight white t-shirt, his thick pecs squishing against his shoulder blades. Steve’s delightful, chubby, little belly is slotted perfectly into the small of his back. While fighting, Bucky’s shirt has risen up, and apparently, Steve’s has done the same, despite how firmly it had been clinging to his soft middle the last time he dared to sneak a peak because now their sweaty, hot skin is pressed together. Steve’s hairy tummy is tickling him, making Bucky want to squirm. He wants to moan. It’s a good fucking thing he’s face-down with Steve on top of him. He wants more than just to squirm and moan, he wants to hump the floor like an animal because with Steve’s tits pressed to his back and his belly squished to his back, it aligns his crotch right up against his ass. Bucky can feel Steve’s dick on his ass through the thin layers of their sweatpants and underwear. He can feel how heavy it is. And he’s thinking about how Steve’s dick probably blushes a dusky pink and gets wet at the time and how it probably curves a little and gets so thick when he’s hard and… this is where Bucky dies because Steve readjusts himself, making it worse by spreading his killer thighs to either side of Bucky’s legs, practically grinding into him, trapping him between his watermelon-crushing thighs. “Had enough?” Steve teases him with a shit-eating grin. God. Only if the fucker knew.

When Natasha adopts a new, abandoned kitten that she’s named Liho and they go over to play with him at Tasha’s apartment and Steve decides to grin like he does, always breath-taking, his smile the sweetest, most affectionate thing as he lifts Liho up above his head like Simba in the Lion King (yes, they’ve caught up on that modern pop culture reference, thank you very much). Bucky nearly goes cross-eyed, staring at his pecs. His t-shirt clings to his round, heavy tits. With his arms up, it forces his pecs to move up, too. High and plump. Bucky can see every detail of them, he can see every breath he takes, making them heave, and he’s almost able to pick out the tiniest creaking groan of the seams of his shirt screaming under all that pressure. Tasha doesn’t bat an eye, at the treatment Steve is giving her new companion, she just squeezes past Steve in her kitchen (is the apartment that small, or is Steve that big?), flicking one of his hard nipples. The points of them are obvious through the straining, thin fabric. She refills her mug with coffee but she doesn’t take a sip until she reminds Steve that if he wants to see how much more comfortable running can be, he only has to say the word and she’ll show him the magic of sports bras. Everyone can see that he needs it, and he might as well embrace it. They can even get matching ones if he wants. Her smile is razor-sharp, teasing. Bucky nearly chokes on his tongue, imagining the heavy mounds of his tits hoised up higher, giving him even more cleavage than he normally sports. Guh. Bucky wouldn’t survive.

When later during that same day, Steve decides he’s going to lie down on Natasha’s couch as they watch a movie - some Russian production that Tasha’s been telling Bucky about forever (he’s hardly paying attention and it’s Steve’s fault that he’s going to have to watch this again, on his own, during one of his sleepless nights when he can pay attention to it) - and Liho decides that Steve’s his favorite. So, he wanders back over to curl up on his soft chest and belly and starts fucking kneading his plush chest and belly like it’s the comfiest, fluffiest pillow ever. It probably fucking is! And Bucky can’t blame the kitten for purring so loudly - despite Steve’s and Tasha’s amusement at it - Bucky would be no better. He spends the rest of the evening biting the inside of his cheek and trying to banish all the mental images of his own hands kneading and squishing and groping those tits until Steve’s blushing, his mouth open, eyes heavily lidded, sweat beading at his hairline, begging Bucky to move on and touch him somewhere else, anywhere else! His nipples swollen and so hard. Irrestable. Bucky would indulge him… sort of. He would move on. But he’d have to give the same thorough attention to his soft belly, his growing hips, his thick thighs, and his fat ass. His body deserves to be pleasured until he’s out of his mind.

When Steve’s loose and warm, they’re hanging out in some back-alley sports bar in Brooklyn for a game, watching the feed on TV, downing beers and greasy bar food with Sam and some other guys from the VA, and a sip goes down the wrong pipe so Steve has to pound his chest with a closed fist, ending up not coughing but belching loudly. For everyone else, the sound is covered by the rowdy cheers filling the crowded, dimly lit space. But not for Bucky. For Bucky, Steve is the only thing in focus. Steve, with his looser fit shirt disguise, blending in, his baseball cap tugged down low on his forehead, shading his eyes, his beard grown out, thick, and… Bucky can’t take it. His body. The way his belly scrunches up when he sits down, bulging out further. The way his throat moves when he chugs from a long-necked bottle. The way his pecs jiggle when he jumps up excitedly, cheering loudly, and the similar way his belly wobbles at the same time. The way he groans at the end of his beer burp, voice rough from yelling all night and soaked in hoppy, malty richness. The way his thighs spread out over his bar stool, expanding, stressing the seams of his jeans. He’s taking up so much space with his broad shoulders, excitable hand gestures as he talks, and his manspreading. Yet, it’s still not enough. His thighs fill out his tight, dark-wash denim so well that even when he’s manspreading, his thighs still touch. Bucky aches to curl up in his lap and kiss him, feeling his beard tickling his face. He wants the heat of that big, big body underneath him. He wants to feel the hot line of his erection when he grinds down into him - their stomachs pressed together, Steve’s heavy with bloating, greasy, fattening bar appetizers.

Bucky’s spank bank is over-fucking-flowing as Steve starts putting on weight and if Bucky didn’t know better, he would think Steve is doing it to him on purpose, teasing him, trying to get him to jump his bones 😏

#ask #mylevisdontfitanymore #belly kink #text #weight gain #stuffing #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #chubby steve #alcohol consumption #tight clothes

[bellewintersroe]

Another idea which is quite angsty is if for example joe having a crush on reader but she choses to be in a relationship with shifty like will he be jealous, angry or happy for them

You honestly send in some of the best ideas, thank you 🥰🥰🥰 can’t wait to write this ! Joe Liebgott reacts to crush!reader being in relationship with Shifty Powers:

Ok first of all I feel like Joe’s feeling for you would never ever be spoken about, like as cocky and confident as he can portray himself to be he’s deeply and secretively sensitive and worried about his feelings not being reciprocated.

your friends for a longggg time through the war and you’re probably blind to his soft spot to you, sure you see he’s a little more gentle with you, but you’d never take this as him having feelings for you?

Anyway I think Joe would be semi blind to you and Shifty at first? Joe is very aware he holds no ownership over you in the slightest, so he’s not all eager eyed searching for competition.

He’s accepted that you’re just his friend, yanno?

Buttttttt, let’s say one day he overhears people teasing you or Shifty and he gets all confused, like, “what the hell ya’ talkin’ about?”

when he finds out you and Shifty kissed- not even that you’re just getting close, he’s momentarily shocked.

you? And Shifty? You and his good friend shifty? Joe doesn’t believe it at first, but he feels his face heating up before anything else, then comes an unsettling feeling in his chest- oh shit he’s jealous.

I don’t think Joe would ever be a bad friend, not to Shifty, so he would NEVER disrespect him for being with you no matter how jealous he feels.

lays I’m his bed overthinking, just staring at the roof. He figures he’s just gonna get over it and ignore his feelings- therefore pushing you away in the process.

He can’t stand the idea of being rude or harsh to Shifty, but he unconsciously nudges the blame onto you and decides it would just be easier to push you away.

you’re right under his nose, grinning and gazing up to Shifty with a glimmer in your eye that Joe has never seen before. That’s what breaks his heart.

I think at first he’d kinda be caught up in jealousy to realise he doesn’t need to be salty, so when you try to talk to him, he kinda goes cold and makes any excuse to end the conversation.

Barely holds eye contact with you, can’t bare to look at you in the eye and not see the same spark that you look at Shifty with.

I imagine Joe physically smacking himself when he realises he’s acting like a dick and his feelings aren’t exactly super covert if he continues to act like this.

Somebody probably calls him a child, Perconte or somebody honest.

I think in some way he’d really see how serious you were about Shifty after he was in the car accident that left him severely wounded. He sees the worry in your eye, and realises it’s not his place to act distant or brash just cos of a stupid crush, you and Shifty actually do work super well together.

Thank god you chose Shifty out of everybody, I don’t think Joe would’ve tolerated them like he would Shifty.

Joe probably does make sure with you it’s all good and he’s treating you right (obviously cos Shifty is an Angel) but just in case.

probably never lets his feelings out, even if you or anybody else have the slightest idea he might be a little jealous, he denies, denies, denies.

his poor little heart, somebody play mini violins cos be really feels bad for himself.

#band of brothers x reader #band of brothers #shifty powers x reader #joe liebgott x reader

[princess-of-the-corner]

Yanno, we keep talking about how Andre let Chloé get away with whatever but I was thinking about it and like, Marinette also gets away with so much shit too. The only difference other than Marinette being the "good" protagonist is that people don't see her doing said shit and we don't see Tom and Sabine reacting to it. She doesn't get reprimanded and if she does it doesn't stick. Like, if they were as good of parents as the show claims they are (which, as of Derision is up in the air since it doesn't seem like they did anything about their daughter being bullied in school) then Marinette would be so fuckin dead because of what happened in the Shanghai special and also the piss window.

I mean the problem is less Tom and Sabine's potential parenting skills and more just. They're not allowed to know about things and the things the may have heard about aren't treated as 'bad' by the narrative.

The Chloé thing is a little funky due to like. In 'Origins' they know about Chloé but she's just an annoyance everyone rolls their eyes at so while it's commented on it's not bad enough for them to get more involved than they have been. But the Derision retcon might have made Chloé soooo much worse and traumatizing, but Marinette refuses to tell them what's happened so they can't do anything. At best they know she's having trouble with something between her nerves and the detentions she keeps getting, but they can't do anything if she won't tell them what's going on.

That said: What should they do in that situation? They can't force Chloé to behave. They can't talk to Chloé's parents because at best they'll brush them off and let her keep doing what she's doing, but more likely she'll be encouraged to do what she's doing and might even be given advice of 'be subtle so you don't get caught'. The teachers either can't or won't do anything. Best option would be to transfer one of them to a different class, but that wouldn't protect her between classes. The only surefire way to stop this would be changing schools entirely, but that cuts Marinette off from her friends even more than Chloé does in the first place.

There's not really a good solution to be had there other than her parents providing support and shutting down things when they can. Which, if we /try/ to combine the retcons with Canon, makes it seem like they at least got the teachers to believe that Marinette isn't at fault so at least she doesn't get punished for Chloé's actions anymore.

As for the other things though:

Tom and Sabine never find out about a lot of the sketch stuff Marinette does. Bringing up the Shanghai Special: They 100% believe that she wanted to go on the trip to visit her uncle, not to stalk Adrien. They don't know about it, they can't talk to her about how that's not okay and how disrespectful it was to use them like that.

But all the stalker shit? Her behavior toward Kagami during Season 2 and 3? Stealing people's phones? All the times when even the narrative treats Marinette like she's in the wrong? They don't get to know about any of it and can't deal with it.

Then we get to things like the piss window where that's treated as a /good/ thing. So if they do know about it, they're not going to punish her for it because it was Totally The Right Thing To Do™.

We do have some evidence of how if she screwed up they'd handle it in Simon Says. Marinette was having so many absences (due to Ladybug shenanigans) that they grounded her so they could help keep track of her so she'd stop being absent.

However it's just. Never brought up again even though Marinette is supposedly still being late to class every fucking day and skipping for Ladybug shenanigans and is supposed to be one of her major stresses of how she keeps missing important school/social/home duties because Ladybug duties take priority.

And on one hand that's annoying because she's still struggling but it's only brought up the one time? Which implies that either her parents stopped caring or the school stopped reporting Marinette's tardiness/absences/missing homework/etc.

On the other hand: The trope of our underage superhero having to constantly be grounded and thought of as a disrespectful delinquent by their parent(s) because they have a secret identity and can't explain that their behavior isn't just 'skipping school and purposely tanking their grades and refusing to do chores all of a sudden' they just have to go save the world..... it gets very tiring after a bit. It's frustrating and begins to make the parents look like jerks for punishing a character who doesn't deserve it even though they are by all logic doing the right thing.

So even that one is a double-edged sword.

Not to mention just even in general like. They're parents in a children's superhero cartoon. If they paid attention like the good parents we are supposed to think of them as, then they would break parts of the plot that allows Marinette to do things she probably shouldn't, up to and including being a Superhero. So they have to remain ignorant by nature of the narrative even though they're supposed to be good parents. It's part of the genre and isn't necessarily the fault of ML.

So yeah it's. I roll with the fact that they're supposed to be good parents and would handle things better if they were allowed to know and if the narrative treated said actions as bad. But it's. It's just. *gestures to the lack of communication and questionable morals of the whole show*

[yesmissnyx]

Starting to reconsider what this account's gonna look like when I'm deep in the Seasonal Affective Disorder pit 😬💦

Because it's definitely starting to creep in and I'm noticing the telltale dip in my mood/health that starts around late October. I'm going to try really hard this year to keep on top of it, but when you're chronically ill as it is, it can get kinda rough.

I REALLY want to avoid venting my health problems here, but there gets to be a point where it's started to take up a disproportionate amount of my mental energy, yanno? So instead of venting, I just go quiet.

And like...not to mention the fact that I don't feel particularly sexy when I'm languishing in bed for days at a time because I have My-Whole-Body-Hurts Disorder.

So if you've been wondering where I am...that's where :`)

That being said, I don't want to disappear entirely, and I definitely want to keep making audio and hornyposts and maybe some longer femdom erotica in the future! I'm ✨ terminally horny ✨, even on bad days. I might just want to shift a little more toward content creation than anything where there's a demand on my attention.

(DMs will probably not be answered for the foreseeable future. I'm sorry, I just DO NOT have the energy to socialize when I'm balls-deep in the pit kjhdfgh)

So yeah! I gotta reassess what that's gonna look like when I've only got a couple of good hours in me a day before I just kinda crash 😤

I know I don't HAVE to be especially grateful OR apologetic, but I still feel the need to express it! So...thank you for your patience while I get my shit together 💓✨

#nyxrambles #Making announcements like this feels weirdly self-important but I know some of you worry about me when I disappear! #<33 I appreciate you!!!

[alun1r]

Rare Alu Rant About Fandoms bc I never say shit:

Sue me, but getting into a fandom just for the intention of becoming popular is so weird to me.

Like sure you want a lot of people to see what you make. Because making something for the fandom should be seen! That’s dope as hell.

But you’re gonna lose inspiration real fast when you find out content creation takes a lotta work but more often than not comes with little reward.

I hold firmly the belief that Fandom is for making content for the pure reason of just because you can.

✨the joy of free will to bring your delusions to life so others can indulge in their delusions as well✨ Kinda vibes? Yanno?

I never started making HL content with the idea in mind that I’d reach 9k followers on tiktok. And I ain’t gonna lie it’s daunting for me. Specially as someone whose always just made shit for whatever reason without even posting it. But The videos that got me views and followers on tiktok, were made because I was high and wanted to laugh. And I’d figured “what the hell, this made me laugh….Maybe it will make someone else laugh.” And I’m glad it did.

And now I float around just making stuff. I still make whatever I want tbh. I do my best to give credit where credit is due in what I make. And yeah I’ve done some fan service videos and writing here and there because hey it’s fun for me.

I see so many posts or peoples bios saying that they’re working towards being popular in fandom and then their posts are what other people said or made on Twitter or tiktok or Vice versa and there’s often times there’s no real credit to original creators.

Don’t get me wrong, if it’s properly credited, AWESOME. Usually it’s not though, and that’s just wild to me. Because how are you expecting to get popular under your own name when you’re just reposting stuff.

That doesn’t make you a content creator.

A historical collector guess?? Because you’re like idk collecting all the stuff people made and what not onto a new page.

Idk dude. I just miss authenticity I guess. People making stuff and just being excited to show it.

Don’t get me wrong though it’s not all terrible on here and everywhere on the internet for fandoms. I’ve made close friends with other creators who feel and see fandom much the same. Just here to vibe and escape.

I’m not saying I don’t think views and followers and likes and notes or what have you, matter. I know they do. I get a lil confidence boost when something I make pops off. I feel proud.

But man it’s the intention of “ Im trying to be a popular creator” that rubs me the wrong way. Make stuff because you like it. Not because other people will. Doing whatever to get you likes wont bring the same satisfaction. And in more cases than not I see it backfiring and causing drama because, like I said it’s usually shit that’s copied or reposted.

Who knows maybe I’m just old and don’t understand bc I also see fandom and the work I’ve contributed as something I wouldn’t like boast about in real life. Because the reaction wouldn’t be positive. Like just for enjoying Hogwarts legacy I get teased in my daily life from acquaintances. It’s not totally negative. Buts it’s enough for me to know that YEAH 9k followers on tiktok don’t mean anything in the real world LMAO because at the end of the day, offline, I am still just a nerd whose daydreaming in her bedroom to escape reality.

I’m 24 dude. And I work in news. Shit is exhausting. Read a headline and you’ll see what I mean. And I just wanted to rant about it because it’s been bugging me since I joined fandom again last year.

But due to, idk my follower count and whatnot I always felt like I can’t or rather I shouldn’t speak my mind so much for fear of SOMEONE coming for me for something. And man I hate that feeling bc this bitch has opinions and I dislike the idea of feeling like others have control over it. But tbh eh. I wanted to rant. Just speaking into the void of the internet.

If you decide to send anon hate for my opinionated rant be ready for a meme bc I don’t have the mental capacity to take anything other than my IRL life responsibilities seriously lmao.

#credit wars are wack #just credit people YALL #I don’t know or think anything I’ve made has been reposted #don’t really care bc at the end of the day what can I do #I care more when other peoples work is stolen tho #why? #dunno. #fandoms are for fun #and I just hate when the fun is ruined over drama that stems from lack of respect for one another #hogwarts legacy #harry potter #sebastian sallow #fanfiction #art #ominisgaunt #hlcreators

[literaticat]

This might be an agony aunt question but, my debut was acquired four years ago, and due to delays it still won’t come out for over a year. I’ve sold other books since then, but none are out yet. I’m trying to keep writing new stuff, but lately it’s felt like a lot of work with nothing to show for it (yet), and it’s hard to keep my spirits up. It started getting really hard lately when I realized that a beloved MS would likely die on sub.

I guess I’m asking if you have any words of encouragement, based on seeing your clients go through delays and wondering if it’s all worth it. I know this is how publishing goes and I know I can take a break whenever I want, etc etc. But knowing is different from FEELING, you know?

Ugh, that's a long time to wait, I'm sorry that's happening! But also -- it sounds like you have multiple books forthcoming. That's really exciting!

I totally understand feeling "doldrums-ish" at this point. For nearly every published author, I think there's some of this -- you have worked so hard and spent so much time just getting an agent (celebration!) -- but then you realize, oh shit, that SEEMED like the destination, but actually, that's literally just the first step on the journey. OK, daunting, but you've come this far -- and then there's some excitement, going on submission, SELLING A BOOK! WOOHOO!!!! (celebration!) -- and then there are some milestones, like getting the contract, doing edits, etc, all exciting in their ways...

... and then....

... there's nothing ...

... for what feels like (and in many cases actually is) A REALLY LONG TIME.

It's hard to keep up the excitement/enthusiasm when there's nothing to feed it, right? It starts to feel kind of endless and depressing.

The good news is, there's an end to that! Soon your excitement will ramp up again when RELEASE DAY comes near!!!!!

But, and I hate to be the one to tell ya, then there is often kind of a let-down "after Christmas" feeling when the world keeps turning, and nothing has particularly changed, and you don't get magic powers or anything. :-/

I tell you all this not to be Lady Downerton, but rather just to say, hey, this is a normal kind of feeling, and it's OK to feel it. Writing books for publication is a job -- and sometimes it can be a GREAT job full of perks and fun and thrills -- and sometimes it can be a thankless or dispiriting or lousy one, frankly, just like most jobs out there!

I think the key is that you realize you are more than your job. Should you do great work and find the joy in it and all that good stuff? Yeah, absolutely! Relish the wins, bask in the satisfying parts, celebrate your achievements. But realize that sometimes it's just gonna be a slog or there will be disappointing or maddening or boring parts, and that's just part of it.

The other thing is: it's happening to everyone, even if you can't see it. It's easy to think that OTHER authors are only having win after win, because people aren't exactly posting about the boring or annoying or upsetting things on social media, yanno? EVERYONE who has successes also has failures, everyone who gets opportunities also loses some, everyone who seems to be on living on Good Ship Lollipop has also spent time on Lousy Raft Marzipan.

The GOOD news is, you can clock out any time you want and go enjoy something else in your life for a while. I promise, nothing terribly important will happen in the publishing world if you step away from your computer and go on a vacation or take a hike or find a passion for pottery-throwing. The stories (and the fun parts, and the annoying parts!) will all be there when you get back!

[petrichor-idyllic]

HI i love ur writings for minho so much oh my god they keep me thriving. i was wondering if you’d be up for doing like a modern highschool au with minho where he keeps trying to ask the reader out, and she keeps saying no because she thinks it’s joke, until she confronts him and he gets all serious and tells her it’s not a joke and then there’s a little bit (a lot) of spice at the end🤭🤭

Ooo okay okay, my first AU story, this is definitely going to be a bit different.

Again, assuming fem!reader because pronouns used in the request.

HIGH SCHOOL NOT-SO-SWEETHEARTS

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Fem! Studious! High-school! Reader x Popular! High-school! Minho.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, the American education system which I simply do not understand or what is taught in American classrooms, spicy content, terrible teenage flirting, kinda of insecure reader, guilty pleasure high school drama tropes, I do not condone Minho's constant questioning of the reader- no means no, guys. No Glader slang here, folks- they ain't stuck in the Maze now.

You are not a popular person.

Not that you mind. You have your small circle of friends and staying out of the typical teenage drama really is a blessing, especially during your Senior year.

It's not like you're disliked, you're just not someone most people pay attention to, and you like it that way.

You get to focus on your studies, your family and your close friends, which is more than enough to keep you happy.

Well, it would be if you weren't kind of a hopeless romantic. No matter how many times you tell yourself you don't want a boyfriend and that you don't need one, you spend a lot of time fantasing about what it would be like to be in a relationship. Like going on dates, having cute inside jokes, meeting your partners parents, and... other things.

In typical horny teenage fashion, you do spend a lot of time thinking about the more intimate parts of your desired relationship. But, alas, you simply do not have anyone interested in you, nor do you have the time.

(You totally do have the time; you're way ahead of your classes and are passing with flying colours- but you tell yourself that.)

Except that's actually not quite right.

"Dude, I am totally fucking up this titration, are you gonna help me or not?" Gally mumbles from behind the desk of the chemistry lab. How Gally and Minho got into AP chemistry is beyond me, and the teacher, and the whole entire class.

Probably to do with them cheating on their mid-terms. But that's irrelevant.

"Minho, dude," he shoves his friend, who has been casually leaning on the desk staring off into space, as per usual.

Well, not into space exactly.

"What? Huh? Oh, right, yeah." He clears his throat. "Acid in the... tube thing and we put that in the base and bang, shit changes colour- it ain't that hard."

"It's an acid-base titration."

"So?"

"So, we're seeing how much base it takes to neutralise the acid- the acid goes in the beaker!"

"What's the damn difference?"

Gally pauses.

He does not know.

"Whatever, the titrate is already in the shitty tube and now we gotta drip feed it in."

"Sounds like you know what you're doin', then." Gally frowns at the boy.

Maybe it wasn't a smart idea for them to both cheat when the only thing they have in common is being friends with Siggy (aka Frypan, the groups best, and only, cook.)

"Yanno, maybe if you didn't spend half your time staring at your nerd crush, then we might actually get past this with a C."

Minho glares at his friend. His crush on you is very much a teasing point in his friend group.

It started when he was struggling with an equation in Sophmore year. He'd just sprained his ankle after a training session with the Track-and-Sprint team and was particularly stressed about it. So, anything remotely out of his academic field was bound to make his day worse.

It's not like Minho is dumb. He's actually incredibly intelligent. He has a great memory and can understand people with little to no effort- anything scientific really isn't his thing though.

So, when you felt bad for him, watching him anxiously tap his good foot and spin his pen in his hand, you slipped him your answer sheet. He was stunned, especially since you'd never spoken before. But, when you smiled at him, giving him a reassuring nod, he never really got over it.

"Shut up, man."

"You know, actually, that's not a bad idea."

"What?"

"Yo, (Y/N)!" You perk your head up, flashing a concerned look at Harriet, your lab partner, as Gally shouts you. "Could you help us out? You're like smart, right?"

"Gally! Dude-" Minho whisper-yells at the boy, ducking into himself when you respond.

"Uh, sure," you walk away from your perfect set up to the chaos of the boys'. "What's up?"

You stand with your hands behind your back, looking between them. "Minho," he nudges his friend, "tell the girl what's wrong."

Minho blinks. "Well, uh, I don't know- you're the one who said there's a problem."

Gally scoffs. "The fucking thing won't change colour- ain't it meant to go pink?"

You glance between them, suddenly feeling very small.

You're not popular, which means guys like these have often teased you or do things like this because they think it's funny. It's gotten better over time with age, but you still feel like the scared little freshman that would get teased by older boys.

"Well, did you put the phenolphthalein in the beaker?"

They both blankly look at you. So, you pick up the small, dark bottle. Shaking it at them, you open the bottle, letting the liquid fall from the dripper and into the clear acid, which immediately turns a bright fusia.

You pull your lips into a thin line as they both stare at the beaker, no thoughts behind the eyes.

"Ah." Gally says after a couple of seconds.

"Yeah." You respond.

"Uh, thanks," Minho awkwardly stands up properly from his leaning position over the lab table.

"No problem."

You turn to walk away, but as Gally makes shifty eyes at his friend, Minho finally takes the hint. He's been crushing on you forever, he might aswell do something about it.

"Uh, wait, hold on," you turn to face him as he walks around the desk. "I gotta ask you somethin'."

"I'm sure your titration's fine, just don't pour it too quick or the results will be wrong."

"No, uh, not that." Gally snorts, not at you but at Minho's awkwardness, but it still makes you feel very insecure. "I was wondering if you wanted to hang out maybe, sometime?"

"Hang out?"

"Yeah," Gally laughs, covering his mouth and turning away, "Gally, shut up, bro." Minho is quick to snap at him. "Like... a date, maybe?"

You scoff, anger swelling inside of you. This isn't the first times it's happened, but probably the worst because you actually like Minho.

Sure, he hangs out with douchebags like Gally, but you thought he was cool. Say, you may even have a slight crush on him. He's handsome, funny, and, for the most part, kind.

Well, you thought he was at least.

"Real funny, asshole."

You walk away, returning to a very confused Harriet.

Minho stands in stunned silence. He's never been rejected before- nevermind like that.

Gally bursts out laughing.

"What just happened?" Minho asks no one in particular, visible confusion washing over him.

"You just got fuckin' rejected, bro! Ha!"

"No, that was weird." He's never heard of anyone being rejected like that before.

"Well, try again, then, pretty boy- it's nice to see someone knock your ego down a peg." Minho gives a sarcastic grin to Gally before shoving him. "You gonna help me with this damn titration, now, or what?"

"Dude, what was that about?" Harriet whispers as you immediately go back to your third reading.

"Minho just asked me out." You state, matter-of-factly.

"What?" She says a bit too loud, making multiple heads look at her. "What?" She repeats, quieter.

"It was a joke- Gally was laughing the whole time. I hate guys like that."

"Are you sure?" You glare at her. "I'm just sayin', I didn't think Minho was that typa guy, that's all."

"Yeah, neither did I."

"Pricks."

You scoff before she smiles at you.

You finish up the lab session, and you're quick to leave, meeting Sonya and Aris at the door as you all share history together.

"Hey, (Y/N)!" You keep walking, ignoring Minho's voice from behind you. "Yo! Hey! Wait!"

"What?" You snap, turning around suddenly to face him, making him jump as Sonya and Aris exchange glances.

"Did I, uh, did I do something? 'Cause back there you-"

"You think you're funny, huh?" Harriet butts in, defending you. "That's a sick joke, yanno; give it up now before you become even more of a dick. C'mon." She grabs your wrist, pulling you away from him, your other friends left even more confused.

Later, in the cafeteria, Minho sits with his friends, silently picking at his food.

"Okay," Newt finally breaks the tension, "what's going on? Why are you sulking?"

"He got rejected by his long-term crush," Gally sneers, earning a glare from Minho.

"Holy shit, (Y/N)?" Teresa leans forward in her seat. "You actually asked her?"

"Yeah, and he got completely rejected."

"What? Why?" Thomas pipes up.

Minho shrugs. "She called me an asshole and walked away. Tried to talk to her after, and Harriet dragged her away."

"What?" At least three people ask.

"Yeah, so, that's three years of my romantic life wasted."

"Nah, man, you gotta ask again," Frypan says between mouthfuls of his homemade pasta, which is worlds better than the cafeteria food.

"What?"

"Keep askin', you'll either get an explanation or she'll say yes."

"I don't know if I agree with that," Teresa mumbles.

"Yeah, me neither," Newt mutters, and Frypan shushes them.

"Trust me, bro, chicks dig a guy that doesn't give up- ain't that right, Gally?"

"Oh, yeah," Gally agrees, sarcasm dripping in his voice. "That'll work."

And, for some God forsaken reason, Minho actually listens to this.

So, every day, for the next two weeks, Minho asks you out.

You think it's some kind of unruly on-going inside joke, and Harriet is practically frothing at the mouth, ready to rip Minho to shreads the first chance she gets. Minho, at the point, would just like a reason.

Not that he's owed one. But, Teresa and Newt's voices of reason keep getting drowned out by the other dumb boys, so he's still going.

That is until you have literally the worst day ever.

First, your Mom's car broke down, and she normally drops you off at school on her commute to work, so you arrived at your first period late. It also means she can't pick you up, it's not like you can't drive, but you don't have your own car, and now she doesn't have a car either.

And now it's throwing it down.

You then dropped a whole beaker of hydrochloric acid down your leg in chemistry. Which meant you had to borrow Sonya's PE shorts because you can't wear dangerous chemicals all day.

Then you left school- forgot you were tutoring Winston for extra credit, and had to run back to school, soaked, to spend another hour there.

Unbeknownst to you, Minho has extracurricular activities being captain of the Track team- which is taking place inside the hall because of the weather.

So, when you're walking through the parking lot, dressed like a drowned-rat and Minho pulls up beside you, you've just about had enough.

"(Y/N)?"

"Piss off, Minho! I won't tell you again!"

He slowly drives alongside you from his beat-up, old range rover, the window rolled down but he still has to shout.

"Okay! Okay! Dude, you're drenched, wearing shorts, okay? I'll give you a lift home-"

"No way- I'll walk."

"You're gonna get sick, man- I'll shut up and just take you home, alright? I'm not letting you walk in this- I'll feel like a dick."

"You don't already feel like a dick?"

He groans, tapping on the steering wheel. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable- I didn't mean to. But the weather's shit, and you can't play top-student if you're off 'cause you're ill."

You pause. He makes a good point. You turn to look at him, sighing. He puts the hand break on when you start to walk around the side of his car, dumping your bag at your feet as you open the door.

"What's your-"

"I'll give you directions."

"Okay..."

The ride is mainly in silent, with some old-school songs playing on the radio. Minho taps the steering wheel to the beat of "Eye of the Tiger" to try and distract himself from the awkwardness.

Your phone buzzes; it's Harriet calling you.

"Shit," you mumble.

"You good?" Minho asks you.

"Yeah, Harriet's calling me- we're meant to be figuring out our history project tonight but I forget to tell her I was tutoring."

You swipe across, pressing the phone to your ear. "Hey, man."

"Dude, you were meant to call me half an hour ago- we gotta brainstorm."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm just on my way home, now."

"Did your Mom sort her car then? Doesn't sound like you're walking through a storm."

"No, I, uh..." You trail off. "I got offered a lift, I'm fine, I'll be home in like five minutes."

"A lift? Off who? Sonya has work so she couldn't of?" You hesitate. "Dude?"

"Uh, Minho, he caught me in the rain and offered to take me home."

"What?"

"Yeah, I know-"

"You're fucking with me, right?"

"Look, it's fine, I'll call you when I get home."

"You better." You hang up the phone, taking a deep breath.

"Sounds like she doesn't like me," Minho attempts to say.

"Yeah, I wonder why."

"Do you have a problem with me, or some shit? 'Cause I thought we were cool and then you just started acting like I was a dick."

"Because you are a dick!"

"What?" He looks at you for a second before returning his eyes to the road.

"Doesn't matter; pull over, it's my house on the left."

He does as he's told. There's no car in the drive so your Mom must've managed to get someone to take care of it- which means you've got an empty house.

Thank God because you're going to need to de-stress after the day you've had.

You immediately get out of the car, slamming the door behind you. But Minho is quick to follow you.

"Hey!" He shouts as you march up your front door steps. "Hey!" He grabs you wrist and you turn around, pushing him.

"What's your problem?" You shout. "I don't get why you think this is so fucking funny! Like, sure, have your one dumb joke where you ask out the freak to make your friend laugh! But why keep going! What's the point? You don't have your little audience now, do you? What? You gonna call them after and tell them how much fun you had pissing me off on our little drive? Or is it the fact I got in your car to begin with? Is that the joke, hm?"

Minho stands there, in the rain, his brows furrowing slightly as he takes in what you've said. It's an expression you've never seen on him before, but you don't plan on sticking around to find out what it means.

You turn, fumbling with your keys to unlock your door, managing to push it open.

"Wait, what?" He stops you in the door, and for some reason, you turn around.

"What?"

"You thought it was a joke?" His voice sounds sincere, almost sad.

"You and Gally were laughing at me-"

"No, Gally was laughing at me," he sighs, dropping his head. "He was laughing at me."

"What? Why would he-?"

"Because I've had a crush on you since I was fifteen. Ever since you gave me those damn notes, a-and I guess I never got over it. I just finally got the courage to say something and Gally thought it was funny- for some reason, I don't know." He takes a deep breath. "But I- shit," he throws his head back, letting the water wash over his face. "I was never joking."

You don't know what to say. It's like your body relaxes, your shoulders dropping as you shuffle forwards.

"I get it, if you don't like me- and I'll leave you alone now. Teresa gave me some lecture on how to treat girls," he lets out a soft chuckle, "Newt sounded like he was gonna rip my head off. But I was never joking, (Y/N)- I really fuckin' like you."

"I don't get it," you mumble. "Why would a guy like you like me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're... popular. Everyone loves you- you're hot and athletic and you could get anyone you want. I don't get it."

He smirks, his shirt is starting to stick to him thanks to the rain and his hair is starting to flatten. "You think I'm hot?" You glare at him. "Right, yeah, not the point, sorry."

He takes in a deep breath. "How could I not like you? You're pretty, and funny, and passionate- and you try so hard and you help people whenever you can. You're... incredible."

"You barely know me."

He scoffs. "Maybe. But I think I've paid more attention to you than I have any of my classes. I know you're good at science, but you hate physics, even though you're good at it. But I know English is your favourite subject. I know that you became friends with Sonya and Aris because Harriet made you after you sat next to her in history. I know the only class you've ever skipped is PE, but I don't know why 'cause you'd actually be pretty decent on the girls' basketball team. And I know you're tutoring Winston after school because he doesn't shut up about it half the time."

He pauses. "I know about you- but I want to know you."

You're completely stunned. The fact that he's paid so much attention to you, and knows all of this makes your stomach flip and your heart rate speed up.

When you don't respond, Minho sighs, rubbing his forehead with his hand. "Sorry," he mumbles, "this is dumb; I'll leave you alone."

He steps away, turning around when you step forward. "Minho," you grab his wrist, making him turn around to face you fully. "I, uh, I have a crush on you, too."

He blinks. "What?"

"I thought you were cool, and I think I was only so upset that I thought it was a joke... because I actually like you, too?" It comes out as more of a question as you avoid his gaze. But when he doesn't say anything, you look at him.

He's smiling. It's a genuine and earnest expression. "Yeah, you actully-?"

"Just shut up and kiss me," you don't know where the surge of confidence came from. Maybe you can't take this sappy talk anymore, or that Minho looks too good being soaked wet through.

Stepping closer, he brings his hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb across your lips as your faces are inches apart. Finally, he leans in, closer the gap and kissing you.

Your hopeless romantic heart can't take it. Kissing the popular hot guy in the rain after what was basically a love confession? It's like something straight out of a movie.

He breaks the kiss for a second, eyes fluttering down at you before his kisses you again. This time, it's hungrier, pushing you back as you grab his shirt. Pulling him back and into your house, he slams the door behind him as you drop your bag on the floor with a heavy thump.

Almost immediately, he grabs you again, pushing you back into the wall of your hallway. You hum into his mouth, his hands coming to your waist, yanking your body closer to his. You're both damp and in uncomfortable clothes, but neither if you could care less as you drip on the floor.

Feeling more bold, you pull on his bottom lip with your teeth, making him grunt slightly before your tongues brush against one another.

Make out session is quick to become more heated as you graze your fingers over his abs through his shirt, which is sticking to him like glue. He senses your want for more, moving one of his hands to lift his shirt (struggling because wet clothes suck) before firmly pressing your hand to his mid-drift.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes flickering as you gently touch his bare skin, your eyes on his chiselled form. He sucks in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling.

It's almost like a drug. You're barely doing anything but he's never felt like this before. It's not like Minho is inexperienced due to a few hook-ups at parties. But, this is new.

He's literally getting drunk off of your touch. And you can tell.

Having Minho reduced to putty in your hands sends a flush of heat to your core. Dangerously lowering your hand, you brush against the V line poking out of his tightening trousers.

He mumbles your name, a rasp to his voice, almost like he's in some kind of pain as he speaks into your mouth. He dips towards you, but instead of kissing you, his lips come to your neck.

You exhale, the air shaking at it leaves your lungs. He moves lower, your free hand coming to back of his neck and playing with his wet hair.

When he reaches your collarbone, your phone starts buzzing again.

Harriet, again.

He pulls away, raising an eyebrow at you as you pull your phone out of the baggy pocket of the gym shorts. "Sorry," you mumble, "I gotta..."

He nods. "Yeah, go ahead."

You inwardly cringe as you pick up the phone.

"Bro, are you alive?" She says the second the line connects.

"Yeah, I'm alive, Harry- I'm home now."

"Great, well I was thinking we can do out project of the Battle of the Somme, or maybe-"

"Wait, I'm, uh, I'm a bit busy- can I call you back?" You definitely have to have that interesting conversation with her, but hopefully you don't have to do it in front of Minho.

"What? Why? Why do you sound like you've ran a marathon? What's going on with you?"

"Look, I'm fine. I'll call you back."

"Wha-" you hang up, taking a deep breath as you lean back against the wall.

Minho chuckles. "We should, uh, probably take things a bit slower."

"Yeah," you clear your throat, "you're probably right."

"So, about that date- you down?"

You smile, nodding. "Yeah, that sounds great."

"Cool. I should probably get your number, huh?"

"Yeah, that would be smart."

You exchange numbers, making some small and slightly awkward small talk when the door opens.

Your Mom, who looks like she's just had the worst day, freezes. Her eyes flickering between you and Minho.

None of you say anything for a good thirty seconds as your mother takes in the scene of her daughter and this random boy dripping in her hallway, both clearly flustered whilst Minho's shirt is still slightly raised.

And where are your pants?

"Hi, Mrs (L/N)," Minho gives an awkward wave to her.

"I can explain." You say.

"I don't want to know," she brushes past you, going further into the house, leaving you be.

Both you and Minho exchange looks before bursting out laughing.

Maybe Minho wasn't joking, but you have a feeling that this specific moment is definitely going to be in the future.

This was actually very fun to write, and I actually got to use my actual science qualifications to use for a change. It's nice to change up things now and then.

I hope you guys enjoyed :))

#🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri writes tmr #🌿 petri tmr minho #🍃 petri tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr minho #minho tmr #minho the maze runner #minho tmr x reader #tmr imagines #minho maze runner

[jakowskis]

Day 13 - Favorite ship(s)? Any Torchwood OTPs? Go ahead, gush about them!

dude i multiship so hard in this fandom i dont think there’s a single combination i havent thought of + found a way to enjoy, and that extends to trios. AND i like tw poly. i am mashing them together like barbie dolls. i am having sm fun here in my room

even the ones i don’t exactly “like” still make me Feel Things (more on that later), and even the ones i tend to prefer as friends (more on that later, too), i can still see it if i want to yknow. that’s what’s fun about the slutty bisexy show! woo! they all compel me. 

nonetheless, here are the pairings i like the most, ranked by how often i think of them + how insane they make me. im not gonna gush a ton, actually, bc i get annoyed w how much i talk, so ill keep every explanation under 15 words

owen x ianto: I Want Them Covered in Blood Together (Gnashing My Teeth) (by fall out boy)

owen x andy: golden retriever boyfriend for owen bc sometimes it’s nice to not be angsty (gooseberry who?)

owen x jack: i dont know how they make me feel but they make me feel Something :/

ianto x tosh: THEY’D BE SO CUTE they’d be precious that’s all

tosh x andy: see above. tosh deserves a sweet bf (there are no girls to ship her with 😔)

owen x suzie: they’re mirrors, they’re the same… they intrigue me. also Hawt xD (im bi)

owen x gwen: better as besties imho but im still a bi moron who’s not immune

jack x ianto: overrated imho BUT i do still like them. sigh. dead line speech wahhh

gwen x rhys: i love their relationship troubles n the way it grounds the show. theyre cute

jack x the doctor: sending jack off to harass the doctor so the team can Rest (+ Im Compelled)

jack x gwen: they compel me a little. a teeny bit. not too much but a little

(can u tell i like owen ships. he just has such fascinating relationships w everyone)

ok i lied ill say a couple things. firstly my otp being owento… i’ve talked a bit about it but in brief it started out because i can't resist having at least one enemies/rivals to lovers ship per fandom and ep12 blew my mind a little - and then something just Clicked and they somehow achieved top ten ships of all time status in my brain?? idk what happened there. i usually go for canon-based ships, so having one that kind of lacks substance in the source media (allegedly; i think they’re fruity in canon. but u know what i mean like theyre not ‘canon’ in a show where there is in fact gay TEXT rather than just the subtextual shit theyre doing yanno) and is largely a beast of my own creation (+ the influence of the wonderful handful of fic writers we’ve had over the years) has been rlly fun. 

im largely preoccupied with those two, but i’ve found jack + his relationship with ianto kind of inherently haunts owen x ianto… if you’ve read my fic you know what i mean by that. i can’t see owento existing on its own, like janto fundamentally co-exists next to it so i have to take it into account, and then jack and owen also have a fascinating relationship so i’ve kind of just ended up spending a lot of time thinking about and figuring out owen x ianto x jack in all combinations, because there’s a lot of fascinating stuff going on there from every end. introducing owen to the equation also kind of… ig redeems janto for me, bc i found them offensively underwhelming in s1 and s2. they should be dark and fucked up, and they’re not. owen kind of… brings smth dark and fucked up to the table, and a lot of why i like shipping him with ianto is bc they bring shit out of each other - and owen, for his part, is capable of bringing out ianto’s repressed rage and forcing him to deal with things he’d rather try to compartmentalize and ignore… i find that super compelling, and i also find it useful for breaking down my issues with how jack & ianto’s relationship is initially presented. like, he’s a handy narrative tool for that hfsdjkf. point is, whether i like it or not, jack and his relationships with my girlies (owen n ianto are the girlies <3) is kind of also an intrinsic part of what most of my fixation-oriented brain power goes into thinking about. i’ve been developing this huge fic ‘verse fdhfjk.... Im Very Tired

sometimes i like fun, though, which is what’s behind a lot of those other ships. i’m generally into very dark + angsty + psychological themes, but sometimes fluff and domesticity and occasional silliness is nice, and that’s what’s behind owandy (i have an au where they meet before owen dies) and iantosh (+ gwen x rhys) as my sort of… alternative endgame. my comfort ‘au’. not an au, exactly, but an alternative fluffier world to the darker owento-based one i’ve crafted and spend most of my time thinking about fdshkfj. i also like sending jack off to go bother the doctor, in this ‘au’, because unfortunately i don’t think he’s conductive to the team’s happiness. i think he needs to find his own way to heal and that should probs include the doctor, considering how obsessed jack is with them + how much he needs to unpack All That Shit he has going on before he can be any sort of truly positive force in the lives of the tw team. so for now he’s banned from the polycule for jack crimes. listen, i love that torchwood’s inherently sad and dark and lonely, it’s what compels me, and i’m ultimately glad that’s the core of the show - but it doesn’t have to be. sometimes i enjoy a nicer alternative. i think they could fix it. and that’s what fandom + fanfic is for. 

i also have several ot3s i enjoy, mostly owen ones. i think he deserves a bf + a gf, i think it’d fix him. put that bitch in a bisexual sandwich and maybe he'd behave. in particular, i love owen x tosh x ianto, it’s the only place i ship owen/tosh bc i think ianto would keep owen in check and they’d all better each other. i love owen x tosh x andy for similar reasons. can you tell the four characters im biased towards fhdskj. (i love gwen just as much but she’s kind of doing her own thing with just rhys and jack imo fdkfjsd. perhaps torchwood is composed of two polycules and jack is the link between both of them)

#tdot #txt #take a shot every time i say compel fhsdkjfds

[chaotic-on-main]

Hey lovely Sky 🩷

🎉 Congrats on 250 followers 🎉 It's really deserved & I bet you'll soon get many more!

For your Summer Event, may I request

☀️ Matcha green tea sugar cone

☀️ Fresh fruit topping 😏

☀️ Levi and reader are stuck at home on a very hot day, no air conditioning, shutters half closed, beads of sweat sliding down their skin... Fluff & slightly suggestive if it's ok for you.

Sending lots of love 🩷

Order up!! One matcha green tea sugar cone with fresh fruit for Val!!

Sky's Summer and 250 Follower Event!

☾ Pairing ➼ Levi Ackerman x afab!Reader

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ suggestive (MDNI just in case), fluff, modernAU, sweaty bodies lmao, implied sexual intimacy, friends to lovers, established relationship

☾ A/N ➼ Hi Val!! Thank you so much for sending in a request. I've been sitting on this one for a bit and I'm pleased to see where it went. Before anyone asks, yes I did give the house a history. I was imagining one of those really old Victorian homes. Yanno, the ones with really old white painted wood and a porch lol. Let me know what you think! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated. 💕

☾ Word Count ➼ ~2.6k

Levi had told you when you both first started dating that he lived in an old building. He currently leased a room with a few of his other friends, something that needed to be done as rent was high and it was the only place they could find at the time. Since then, they never had any reason to leave, and they were fortunate to have a sweet old lady as their landlord.

According to Levi, the house had been in the landlord’s family for many generations spanning back to the mid-1800s. Very little upgrades were made in those years as they wanted to preserve the physical body as much as possible. There were a handful of updated kitchen appliances, a few wall-mounted A/C systems, and of course newer plumbing. But outside of that, the house has looked the same for the past few centuries.

This meant that the door that you were currently fighting with had been there just as long as the house has. Levi had warned you hours ago that sometimes in the summer, the door could expand and get stuck. On this particularly hot day, Levi’s bedroom door might as well have been superglued to the frame.

“You know it can get stuck like this, yet you still close it?” You hiss at Levi as you continue to pull on the knob with no avail.

“I don’t want people peeking into my room as they walk past.” Your boyfriend of a few months’ grumbles behind you.

“Erwin and Hange are both at work. You make no sense.” You hear Levi’s tongue click in annoyance.

“Just give it a few minutes.”

With a huff, you turn around and face Levi. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at you with his eyebrows knit. You take a few steps towards his bed and fall face first into the soft comforter. His laundry detergent wafts up into your nose as you do, and you find yourself nuzzling into the sheets more.

“Well, at least the air conditioning is working.” Your words come muffled through the blankets. Just as you finish your sentence, there’s a soft pop and then deafening silence. The heat that comes after is instant.

“You just had to say something, didn’t you.” Levi groans as he gets up from the bed, the mattress underneath him whining at the sudden lack of weight. Your face is still down in the mattress, so all you hear is him messing with the air conditioning unit above his dresser. From the sounds of it, it’s still blowing but softly and only warm air is coming out. Something clunks on the top of his dresser then he starts tugging at the old wooden door.

“Shit.” He mutters under his breath after a few minutes of struggling. “I think it’s actually stuck this time. Where’s your phone?”

You roll over and sit up to face him, feet crossed under you. You can already feel the sweat starting to build up on your face and neck.

“I left it out on the coffee table. Where’s yours?”

“Kitchen counter. Fuck.” He rakes his fingers through his hair and the way it’s sticking back, you can see he’s starting to get sweaty as well. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares at you.

“Maybe we climb out the window and go through the house to the other side of the door?”

“We’re on the second floor and the front door is locked. My keys are out in the living room.”

“What about kicking down the door?”

“And risk the wrath of Mildred? No. We’re stuck here until one of the other idiots comes home.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in between fingers as you try to think of more options, but nothing comes to you as the heat of the room is becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Your clothes are sticking to your skin, and you feel your scalp becoming damper by the second.

“That could be hours, Levi.”

“I’m well aware.” He sighs heavily and steps over to his window before sliding it open then pulling the shade down to block out some of the afternoon sun. The room is still hot but at least there’s circulation now.

Eventually you and Levi both find each other lying on your backs on his bedroom floor. Fortunately, he kept it clean so you had no worry about what you might pick up while down there. You think an hour had also passed, either you or Levi getting up periodically to check on the door – which didn’t budge in the slightest.

The beads of sweat that moistened your skin and pooled into your clothes became irritating by the second and you couldn’t stand it anymore. After pulling yourself up, you tug your shirt up and over your shoulders as much as you could despite the wet fabric clinging to your skin. Then, you push your shorts down until they’re around your ankles and don’t hesitate to use your feet to kick them back up to you to save you from leaning down.

Levi’s head rolls over in your direction at the sudden rustling and you spot his eyes widen at the sight of you now only in your bra and underwear. You feel his gaze linger before looking up at the ceiling.

This is the first time Levi has ever seen you this stripped and you think you might regret this later. But in the heat of the moment, all you can focus on is making yourself comfortable.

“The fuck are you doing?” His face is flushed and you’re certain it’s not just from the heat.

“It’s hot as shit and I can’t stand the feeling of wet clothes. Don’t read too much into it.” You say down to him, resting your fists on your hips. “Unless you want heat stroke, I’d recommend doing the same.”

“No.”

“Suit yourself.” You shrug before sitting back down on the hard floor. The cool wood on your back elicits a content sigh from your lips.

A few minutes pass before you hear an irritated click of a tongue then the rustling of Levi standing up. Just as you had, he’s pulling his t-shirt off and tugging down his jeans, grabbing them and folding them neatly before placing them on his dresser.

You had suggested it but now you wish you hadn’t. Levi’s side profile is enough to make you swoon, his hair dripping with sweat and sticking to his forehead. The realization that you were both now half naked in front of each other hits. Not like you were intending any funny business but your eyes don’t leave his porcelain skin as they trail down his body and the feeling it leaves behind makes your heart flutter.

Lean muscles pop up throughout his small frame. His back and arms are more prominent, though it’s obvious he never skipped a core or leg day either. A happy trail matching the raven hair on his head leads down under his semi-tight polyester boxers and you force your eyes away from staring any further – not without a small glance though.

He lies back on the floor next to you, avoiding your gaze.

“Happy?” Levi grumbles finally. He pulls an arm up and over his eyes.

“I feel better, yeah. Do you?”

“…I guess.” You can’t help but smirk at that.

You imagine it had been another hour since that. The time was filled with talks of anything you could think of - mainly about what you would order for dinner tonight. You forced yourself to stop as your stomach started growling painfully.

The sun shot straight through the window and Levi had gotten back up at some point to lower the curtain more to block it out. That also meant blocking out any air flow so the room began to feel stuffy. You’re debating on taking off more clothes before Levi pipes up again, his voice crackly from the lack of moisture.

“I shouldn’t have invited you over.”

Lolling your head to face him, you eye his sweaty face in surprise. His dark eyes side-eye you as you consider his words. There’s a trace of guilt in his expression from what you can see.

“And miss all of this fun?” You joke back, a smile tugging at your lips. There’s a pool of sweat building under your skin and onto the hard floor now.

“You could be anywhere else right now.”

“True. But I wanted to spend my day off with you. If this is how I go, then so be it.” You reach over to gently push the hair strands sticking to his face out of the way. They stick straight up and you can’t help but chuckle at it. “Besides, if I knew this would be a way to get your shirt off, I’d have glued the door to the frame way earlier.”

“You’re such a dumbass, you know that?” You hear a lilt of amusement tickle his voice. “If you wanted my shirt off, you could have asked.”

“Would you have if I did?”

“I guess we’ll never know.”

The perks of being good friends with Levi for so long before officially dating included seeing Levi in a different light and you knew he would rather die than show anyone else. Levi Ackerman was the funniest person next to your friend Hange, but no one would ever believe you if you told them.

And If you looked past his dry tone and brusque demeanor, you’d see the softest soul anyone’s ever seen.

“Hey Levi?” You push yourself off the ground, which proves to be a little difficult as the floor is slippery from your sweat, and onto your butt. He hums back in response, opting to stay flat on the ground. Your eyes scan the sweat gleaming off his soft, pale skin. You really want to reach over and touch his chest but you hold back, folding your hands on your legs that sit straight out as you lean against the end of the bed.

“What made you finally ask me out after so many years?”

“You’re asking this now?”

“If I’m going to die here, I’d like to know before passing on, yeah.”

“Tch.” Levi sits up effortlessly and turns to face you, sitting with his legs crossed underneath him, then leans back against his dresser. “Hange.” He rakes his fingers through his wet hair that fell in his face and pushes it back out of his face. With the amount of sweat building up, it stays slicked back which makes your heart jump at the sight.

“Hange?” You furrow your brows at that. It was the last thing you thought he would say.

“They told me to stop being an idiot and make a move before someone else did.”

“Did they now? Couldn’t stand seeing me on someone else’s arm?” You pinch your lips together to hold back a smile as you watch him. Beads of sweat roll down his face and neck.

“No.” His eyes stare into yours with straight sincerity. “It annoyed me just thinking about it.”

“And how long were you crushing on me?” This time, you don’t stop the cocky smile carving into your face and no doubt into your eyes as well.

“Speaking of annoying.” He rolls his eyes at you, but there’s a small smirk on the corners of his mouth. You notice the way his eyes trail down your body, lingering on certain places that makes your face heat up more than it already was.

“Hm, but that’s why you like me.”

“Is that why?” Levi leans forward so that he’s on his hands and starts crawling over to you. In mere seconds, his face is right in front of you as his body hovers over your legs – hints of lemon and sweat seeping into your bubble. The proximity of his warm body makes the air around you hotter. You swallow hard, eyes bouncing back and forth between his dark gray.

Before you can answer, he pushes forward and his soft lips meet yours gently. This isn’t the first kiss, but it might as well have been. Every kiss with Levi always leaves your heart with palpitations and your head dizzy, this one was no exception.

He raises a hand so that he’s only leaning on one, and wraps it around your neck to pull you deeper into him. You taste the saltiness of sweat as well as him and you’re quick to melt into his touch.

The heat of the room is unbearable, but it’s nothing compared to the heat blooming throughout your whole body as Levi's lips make their way down your jaw and to your neck. You feel his razor sharp teeth nip at your soft skin before his lips make their way back up to your mouth - his movements hungrier with every passing second.

“Where the heck are you guys?! It’s 4:27!” You hear from the other side of Levi’s door before it’s being flung open from the other side a second later. You squeak in surprise as the door vibrates on his hinges from slamming against the wall. Levi is still inches from you but now both of your heads are turned towards the tall person standing in the door frame. The cool air from the hallway blasts through and if you weren’t in such an awkward predicament, you would have jumped for joy.

“I’ve been in the parking lot for the last 30 minutes waiting…” They trail off as they take in the situation. Half-naked, flushed and sweaty, and Levi practically on top of you. Your eyes widen up at them.

“Well, well, well. I can see why you left me hanging.” They muse as they cross their arms over their chest and raise an eyebrow at you.

“I- it’s not- his door wouldn’t open so-” You stutter out, hands waving in front of your chest in protest.

“Go away, four-eyes.” Levi grumbles as he sits back on his knees and turns away from the door, leaving his back to Hange. You note his hands sitting on his lap in a graceful manner.

“I’ll give you some time to uh, get ready. Erwin and the rest of the gang are already at the restaurant waiting for our asses.” Hange winks at you before turning on their heels and walks down the hallway. Their footsteps clunk down the old staircase, growing fainter with every step.

It’s silent besides the rushing of air from the other a/c units throughout the house. The cool air tingles on your skin, turning the beads of sweat cold. You can’t help it, you laugh out loud – obnoxiously so.

“Figures Hange would find us.” Levi mutters. He’s still facing away from the door but you can see his side profile as he side-eyes you once again.

“They saved us though.” You say after catching your breath. Using the back of your hand, you wipe the sweat off your forehead. You were going to need to clean up before meeting up with everyone for dinner. An idea strikes as you pull yourself up off the floor.

“You know, we need to shower before leaving.” You say down to Levi.

“That would be wise, yes.”

“It would save time and water if we shower together.” You say quietly as you tug on an invisible string hanging off your bra.

Levi is off the floor and pulling you into the bathroom across the hall before you can say anything else.

#sky's summer event #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #modern au #x reader #suggestive #mdni