#yes i am absolutely obsessed with this stupid show^^

[topsyturvy-turtely]

I posted 3,154 times in 2022

That's 3,090 more posts than 2021!

141 posts created (4%)

3,013 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@helloliriels

@loki-lock

@safedistancefrombeingsmart

@justanobsessedpan

@musingsofmyown

I tagged 2,195 of my posts in 2022

Only 30% of my posts had no tags

#johnlock - 611 posts

#bbc sherlock - 453 posts

#sherlock - 428 posts

#john watson - 366 posts

#sherlock holmes - 295 posts

#sherlock x john - 169 posts

#johnlock fanart - 151 posts

#martin freeman - 135 posts

#sherlock fanart - 135 posts

#benedict cumberbatch - 125 posts

Longest Tag: 121 characters

#am i funny? cringy? funny but in a cringe way? yeah probably funny cringy way... nah probably just cringy... in any case:

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

okay so we all want BBC SHERLOCK S5 right???

and imho it needs to involve:

- A JOHNLOCK KISS!!!! (one that ~actually~ happens irl and not just in the mind palace or the like...)

-HUDDERS NOT BEING DEAD (seriously she is the soul of johnlock and she deserves better than to die. let her go on vacation or something... saw that post a few days ago)

-AND HARRY WATSON PRETTY PLEASE!!! (in a happy way. where john and her rebuild their relationship. also... maaaayyybbee bcs i'm a tiny bit in love with her)

-MORE (happy!) JOHNLOCK

154 notes - Posted February 23, 2022

#4

how john watson found his heart again

[sequel to how john watson lost his heart ]

it's been two years since i've lost my heart.

two years of grief. two years of being lost. two years of darkness.

but it's okay, i've found her. she gave me a new heart.

it's not the same as my own but it does its job: it gave me life. it keeps me alive.

but suddenly you are back.

short version: not dead.

and you present me my long lost heart on a serving tray.

with your fake glasses, your fake mustache, your fake accent.

but my real heart.

right there in front of me.

abruptly i stand up. trying to hold back my anger.

alright. john. i'm suddenly realizing that i probably owe you some sort of an apology-

fist against the table.

two years.

keep it together, watson, i tell myself.

two years.

but how can i?

when the only reason to live is right there in front of me.

when the one reason i almost died myself was right there in front of me.

i thought-

not in the restaurant, watson.

i thought you were dead.

i died too that day. i have lost my heart that day. the day you died.

now you let me grieve...

i grieved for you, i grieved for my heart.

how could you do that?

HOW?!

See the full post

182 notes - Posted May 27, 2022

#3

"JOHNLOCKed in a Closet"

- now on Ao3!!!

[cover art by @topsyturvy-turtely DO NOT REPOST]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M, F/F

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson; Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade; Harry Watson/Original Female Character; Sherlock Holmes & Mrs. Hudson & John Watson; Harry Watson & John Watson; Sherlock Holmes & Greg Lestrade

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mrs. Hudson (Sherlock Holmes), Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade, Harry Watson, Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Fluff, Mrs. Hudson Ships It, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Johnlock - Freeform, Locked In, Trapped In A Closet, John is a Mess, John The Bisaster, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Harry the gay advisor, Confused John, Soft Sherlock, Sassy John, Shy Sherlock, References to Canon, Case Fic, okay mostly it's fluff but anygays..., STILL THERE IS A CASE

Summary: Mrs. Hudson is done. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are just two silly little lovebirds who need to be locked together in a room until they can finally admit their feelings for each other! So this is EXACTLY what she does. And what room could be more fitting than a closet...?

Chapters: 15/15 (plus a dedication)

Originally published on Wattpad with the username "turtely". (21,6K views, 817 votes, 5K comments - status August 30th 2022)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40776522?view_full_work=true

204 notes - Posted August 4, 2022

#2

He really just needed a kiss...

John hated it. He utterly and truly hated it. He despised himself for it. It was going on his nerves. In fact it annoyed the fucking SHIT out of him.

That stupid, always present, torturing urge to be kissed.

It was plain out ridiculous. But he couldn't help it. He wanted- needed that kind of body contact. Where one was taller, the other smaller. Where one was the bold and made the decisive move. Where your heart stops and your breath catches and-

John put the tea pot down with too much force so the china chinked. He grabbed the newspaper off the table with an emphasis that really wasn't necessary and he walked over to his armchair with a frown on his face and heaviness in his steps.

He dropped into the chair and scowled at the news. He felt like a teenager, which dropped his mood even more.

"You're annoyed.", his flatmate Sherlock, eyes closed hands steepled under his chin, his legs half up half down, stated. And it made John even more grumpy. Because look at this arsehole! With his damn hair and annoying face and stupid athletic body he wouldn't struggle AT ALL finding someone to kiss him. Not that he would care for such mundane things.

"Yes.", there was no point in denying it, John decided but hid his face behind the newspaper again.

"Why?"

Behind the safety of the newspaper John rolled his eyes. "I just am."

Sherlock opened his eyes and leaned forward, "That's ridiculous every human emotion has its origin in a deeper-"

"Oh for fuck's sake. You of all people lecturing me about human emotions is really not a to-do-thing for today, okay?!"

Sherlock sat up and John - even behind the paper - felt his studying gaze on him and the irritation inside him flamed up even more. "Stop staring.", he grumbled

Sherlock tilted his head - eyes still fixed on his flatmate. He leaned forward, pushing the newspaper down and the sudden proximity made John uneasy.

"Ever heard of personal space?"

"Of course.", Sherlock said and invaded John's.

"Then why are you in mine?"

"Because you want it."

"I want- what?"

"You wanna be close to someone.", Sherlock said, both hands on either side of his armchair now.

"No", John awkwardly fixed his sitting position. "I think I am good. Go back to your seat, Sherlo-"

But then Sherlock's lips were on his and John froze. It was just a hint of a kiss. It was nothing really. He could back off and then they could just-

He put his hand on the back of Sherlock's neck and his hand barely touched his side. He hesitantly kissed him back and then Sherlock's lips pecked John's lightly. Sherlock opened his mouth and John sucked on the other man's lower lip. John (or more his libido) decided he'd go a bit further and used his teeth to tease. When Sherlock gasped, John pulled back quickly.

"Oh. Wow. I didn't- didn't expect to happen.", he said, Sherlock still hovering above him. His eyes were fluttering open and then stared into John's. There was something in his gaze that made John wanna hug him tight.

Sherlock straightened up and fixed his perfectly cuffed cuffs on his shirt. That heated look was completely gone. There was no evidence of what had just happened, except ,maybe, that John's trousers were a tad bit tighter than before.

Still uselessly fumbling with his cuffs (with elegant, slim fingers), Sherlock finally looked up. And with his look came a wall, being built brick by brick between them. "You needed stimulation. I gave you that. I hope you feel better now.", Sherlock said matter-of-factly, finally letting his cuffs alone, rolling his shoulders once. With four long strides he was at the hook with his belstaff, put it on with one swift movement and opened the door. "I'll be out. No need to wait up."

And John was being left behind. Completely stunned. He still felt lips on his own, still felt breath creeping over his jaw, still saw a heated look that John felt like had burnt him.

With a deep breath he heaved himself up, the newspaper forgotten on John's lap, flew to the floor. John needed tea. While the water boiled, John thought about what Sherlock had said. That he had offered him stimulation and that he hoped John felt better now. And he did, definitely, feel better but there was a tuck inside him that made him frown.

See the full post

256 notes - Posted August 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

sherlock: I KNOW!!!

john: you know what?

sherlock: i know what the H stands for!

john: *pinching the bridge of his nose* sherlock can you just dro-

sherlock: john hedgehog watson

john: ...

sherlock: ... :)

398 notes - Posted October 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #turtely #sorry for the long post i am a fuckin writer xD #none of this surprises me #all my reblogs haha <3 #and the tags #yes i am absolutely obsessed with this stupid show^^ #and my longest tag is literally a summary of me 😅

[jeonqkooks]

kyoho | ksj

You love your grape boy, and your grape boy... well, he might just love you a little too much.

pairing: seokjin x f!reader

rating: pg13

genre/warnings: established relationship, swearing bc when is there no swearing in my fics, mentions of seggs, suggestive themes, fluff, crack?? idk, my brand of fics is Unedited y'all know that's how we roll

word count: 1.8k

notes: i've been buying a lot of grapes lately (am i a grape person now??) and i've been eating them almost every day and of course i had to think about grape jinnie my beloved, my ultimate favorite seokjin and i want him to come back to me :((( idk that's how this lil thang came to me lmao it's the most crackhead shit i've ever written sOoOoOoOo please laugh or else ! 👿 jk but not really

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

"If you do this, we're done."

"Y/N."

"I swear, if you go through with this, we are over!"

Seokjin sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, clearly not expecting you to be so passionate about the subject at hand. "The appointment is in an hour," he says.

"Cancel it. I don't care!" you cry. "Please don't do this. Don't take him away. He means the world to me."

Your boyfriend stares at you, mouth agape, then points to his head incredulously. "Him? My hair?"

"Yes!" You crawl over to his side of the couch to straddle his lap, actual tears welling in your eyes. You run your fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft and silky it feels in your hands. His gorgeous, gorgeous purple locks. The ones he's ready to sacrifice in favor of half blond, half red hair by demand of one Jeon Jungkook.

You shouldn't be this upset over him dyeing his hair, but you are, despite knowing full well that the purple will be gone soon anyway. His dark roots are starting to show already.

It's shark week, and there are not enough words in the dictionary to express how devastated you are that he's taking away your emotional support Grape Jinnie.

A couple months ago, when he told you that he'd be dyeing his hair purple, you were highly skeptical of the decision. You didn't know if he had the face to pull off purple of all colors, even though you had already seen him sport every other color of the rainbow and absolutely rocked every single one.

The whole week leading up to his salon appointment, you teased him endlessly - started calling him Grape Boy, bought him box after box of Kyoho grapes, photoshopping Kylie Jenner's purple hair onto his head and making it your lockscreen... It was mostly just grape puns, you were really milking that whole thing.

But then he came home, hair freshly bleached and colored, and your jaw dropped to the ground and stayed there for ten whole minutes.

Your eyes almost fell out of their sockets from how good he looked.

No, he didn't just look good. He was stunning, breathtaking, mindbogglingly beautiful and all the other synonyms that one could name.

The man fucking ate and left no crumbs.

That night was one of the best sex you two have ever had.

To say that you were obsessed with this shade on him is the understatement of the year.

"Don't do it," you plead. "If you really love me, you won't do it."

"You're being so dramatic. It's just hair." Seokjin puts his hands on your waist while you keep yours on his head, clutching his strands like a lifeline. "Plus, I have to honor the bet!"

Your expression turns stony then, as your eyes travel from the silky purple down to his face. You tighten your grip on his hair and tug on it sharply until your boyfriend is scowling in discomfort.

The bet. The stupid fucking bet he made with Jungkook.

You had explicitly told him there no chance in hell that he could win, but Seokjin could be an overly confident asshole sometimes.

He was in way over his head, and now you're the one suffering.

"You idiot," you hiss, pulling on his hair again, "why the fuck did you think you could do more pushups than Jungkook?"

"I don't know! We were tipsy and it seemed possible at the time!"

Releasing his hair, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and inhale deeply.

"Why am I being punished for your actions?" you mumble against his skin, then you ask, voice full of futile hope. "What if you just... don't do it?"

"Then I have to buy him a new mattress. He cut his mattress with scissors to make it fit into his bed frame and now it's all fucked up."

You give yourself a minute to think. There has to be a solution to your distress. You just gotta think. Think, brain, think!

And then you remember. Seokjin is still a man.

You lean back to look at him properly, straightening your position on his lap. You give him your biggest puppy dog eyes before you say, "I promise I will blow you every day from now on if you keep the hair."

If he was drinking water, you're fairly certain that he would've choked. Your boyfriend's eyes widen in surprise, his skin turning a dozen shades warmer, blushing from his cheeks all the way to the top of his ears.

Bingo.

"What?" he asks, like this is something so scandalous.

You lean forward to pepper kisses all over his face, putting more weight on your offer. "I promise," you say, pecking his cute cheek, "to blow you," then his forehead, "every single day," then his nose, "from now on," and finally his lips.

You linger near his mouth, not pulling away just yet. Your lips brush against his once more until you feel his hands tighten on your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck to hold him closer as you press forward, giving him a proper kiss to seal the deal.

Seokjin practically melts underneath you. Victory is so close that you can taste it. You're doing this for the greater good of mankind, for Grape Jinnie. Jungkook can fuck off with his half seasoned, half fried bullshit.

But then, Seokjin abruptly rips away from you to shriek, nearly blowing your eardrums out. The suddenness of his movements almost make you tumble off the couch.

"No, don't try to tempt me! Mattresses are expensive as fuck!"

It's been a few hours. He should be back any minute now.

Ever since Seokjin left to go to his hair appointment after having to peel you off of him because you were clinging to his body like a goddamn koala, you've been wallowing in your misery. You even busted out the big guns - Ben & Jerry's Peanut Butter Cup ice cream (with real peanut butter cups!) - to help you through this difficult time.

You're in full grieving mode now. Goddamnit. Fate is a cruel mistress.

Or in this case, Jungkook. Jungkook is a cruel mistress. That fucking guy.

When you hear the door open and the subsequent clanging of Seokjin's keys as he hangs them on one of the hooks in the entryway, you prepare to give him the biggest pout you can manage.

But then, he comes into view a few seconds later, and you gasp. You actually gasp. Before he knows what's happening, you're rising from the couch and sprinting toward him, launching into his arms with the biggest smile on your face like a kid on Christmas morning.

"You're still a grape!" you squeal joyously.

Seokjin lets out a surprise Oof! at the sudden force of your body knocking the breath out of him.

"What a warm welcome," he mutters. "I don't think you've ever been this happy to see me."

"What happened?!" you ask, eyes wide, grin even wider. "Did you change your mind because you love me so much?"

You run your hands through his hair to make sure that it's real, that you're not hallucinating this because you just love the purple so goddamn much.

And it is! It's still here! His hair is still that luscious shade of purple that you adore with your entire being.

Seokjin eyes you for a moment before he says, "I compromised with Jungkook. Did something else instead."

"What did you do?"

"I got a tattoo."

"You what?!"

"He said I wouldn't have to dye my hair if I got a tattoo of his choosing."

"Oh, no," you try to sound sympathetic but fail miserably. You cover your mouth with your hand to hide your smile, already sensing the absolute crackhead chaos that will ensue in a matter of minutes. Having been friends with Jungkook for years, you know that dude comes up with the craziest shit sometimes.

Seokjin turns around and pulls up his shirt, and you almost die from the fit of ugly snorting laughter that immediately rips itself free from your mouth. His skin underneath the transparent cling film is still slightly red, but the letters adorning the expanse of his lower back is clear as day.

You cannot find it in yourself to blink, not when the black ink is just staring at you like that. The font, so formal and classic, and yet the content of it... what a contrast.

"Kim Seokjin!" you wheeze, wiping tears from your eyes and struggling to catch your breath. "How could you possibly think that this is a better idea than to just dye your hair!"

"You begged me to keep the hair!"

"I did," you agree, clutching your stomach as giggles continue wracking through your whole body. It's almost painful at this point. "But I don't want my boyfriend to have a tramp stamp that says fucking Chicken in Times New Roman!"

"It was either this," he says, turning back to face you, "or a sketch of his head on a chicken's body."

"What is up with him and chickens? Is that his new thing now?"

"I don't fucking know!"

"Well, thank you for doing that for me," you say appreciatively as you pull him in for a kiss, which isn't very graceful because you're still tittering the whole time. "But please tell me that's not permanent."

Seokjin stays quiet, his eyes dropping to the floor, and you stop laughing immediately.

"Oh my god," you say. "Is the Chicken tramp stamp permanent?!"

"No," he finally admits after a moment of hanging it over your head. As funny as the whole thing is, you do not want the love of your life to walk around sporting the most ridiculous tattoo in human history. "It's supposed to fade after a month."

You lean into him again, heaving a giant sigh of relief and wrapping your arms around his neck. One of your hands go for his hair again, weaving through the soft locks with your fingers because how could you not? "I love you, Grape," you say, pecking his cheek with a grin.

Seokjin rolls his eyes affectionately, but returns a peck to your own cheek. "I have a tramp stamp of the word Chicken and my parents might disown me for that, but at least you get to keep your Grape Boy," he says, making you giggle again.

"Because you love me so much, right?"

"Hmm. You're lucky I do."

You give him another kiss, one full of gratitude, for indulging your antics. When you move to return to the couch, Seokjin tugs on your wrist, pulling you back into him.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong," he says, acting all coy and shit, "but I recall you making me a promise earlier, no? What was it again?"

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 16.04.2023]

#seokjin x reader #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #seokjin angst #seokjin x you #seokjin fanfic #seokjin imagines #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bangtanbathhouse #bangtantheatrenet #btshoneyhive #clubzerooclock #52hertz #fic: kyoho

[reallyromealone]

Spiderfic 3

Warning: male reader, Omegaverse, fluff, hybrid, mpreg

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

months had passed since Mikey's rut, (name) now very pregnant and Mikey very very protective.

(Name)s guards now consisted of Sanzu, Mucho and Mochi and followed the Omega everywhere and dealing with the Omega "hunting" for food via "stealing" food from the kitchen as if the chef's haven't been leaving fruits and veggies out for the Omega to sneakily grab. The three alphas found their queen quite amusing as he waddled around for the things his pups may need.

Emma loved (name), often indulging his weird pregnancy behaviour and the two could be found in the nursery that had been expanded for the oncoming pups.

Currently though, (name) was in a bit of a pickle.

Well it wasn't a bad pickle so to say but (name) was stuck by Mikey in the webbing to the nest as the Alpha kissed him deeply "now let alpha do this" Mikey said deeply and (name) let out a frustrated whine as the spider Hybrid took out any foods or things that can and will go bad from the nest "we will build you a birthing nest out in the bedroom but you can't be in there until the pups are born" Mikey said sternly as (name) glared at him, the doctor warned Mikey that (name) would be like this, the omegas mood all over the place "that was mine! I foraged for it!" (Name) said pissed off as a maid took the food from Mikey "it was going bad and you aren't eating it because the smell makes you sick"

"The pups..."

"Darling, the pups are fine"

"No alpha! The pups need it! How can you not see this!?" (Name) was seething and Mikey could feel the mood swing through the bond "get me out of this web!" The Omega said angrily as Mikey freed him quickly, not wanting to further piss off his hormonal Omega who didn't look the least bit intimidating to the predator, Mikey biting back a smile at the pissed off bunny who grumbled and wandered out of the room, Mikey following close behind.

"Stop following!"

"We're going the same direction" Mikey said simply but they both knew that was a full ass lie "stupid alpha..."

The staff always was amused by how the couple interacted, even when absolutely livid (name) let Mikey keep a hand on the small of his back but any lower usually got a hiss when he was like this.

But Mikey usually put him in his place with his own growl, causing (name)s mood to take a wild shift.

"I-im sorry alpha!" (Name) said teary eyed, showing his neck in submission as the two went into a forgotten corner "how about we go find you something sweet, yes?" Mikey said nosing his neck and calming the Omega who now was feeling like garbage about being all angry at his mate who was helping him.

(Name) had a craving that Mikey was more than happy to facilitate, his pups craved Taiyaki like fiends and Mikey couldn't help but be amused at his mate and Draken was annoyed to have to deal with two Taiyaki obsessed royals now.

It was two am, the couple had to sleep on their bed so (name) could actually get out of bed and (name) woke to something leaking "Jiro!" (Name) whisper yelled, shaking the man awake who immediately got up while looking frantic.

"It's happening!" (Name) was panicking as Mikey scooped him up and rushed out of the room as (name) grunted at a contraction and tore Mikey's sleeve in the process "were almost there bunny" Mikey said as guards opened door after door for the Alpha as to make sure they got there as fast as possible.

(Name) was not having a good time as he was set on a bed, it seemed his pups wanted out asap.

"Your knot isn't coming anywhere near me!" (Name) hissed out angrily to his alpha, Mikey having a feeling he wasn't bluffing as another contraction rolled through him "fucking shit!"

(Name)s birth was almost 18 hours and out came three healthy pups, all bearing Mikey's eyes as (name) blearily looked at his family "are those my babies?" He asked softly as the nurses helped him sit up so Mikey could hand two over as Mikey held one at eye level to (name) "they're so wonderful...!" (Name) was now actively crying at his pups who have yet to show their hybrid identities.

Mikey stared in awe at his family, (name) looked fucking stunning holding his offspring and feeding one while the other two slept.

"Sleep Omega, I will keep the pups safe"

(Name) awoke to being set in his bed, the pups in cribs near him as per requested during (name)s little birthing plan Mikey made sure every single person followed.

"Hello beautiful" Mikey said softly as he noticed (name) was awake "are you ready for guests?"

"Who...?"

"My siblings, two have come to visit"

(Name) had heard of mikeys brothers, Shinichiro having stepped down from the crown to marry a neighboring kingdom and Izana the step brother who was head of shinichiros guard.

"I look gross..."

"I cleaned you up, don't worry"

"Alright.."

The three Sano siblings came in, looking at the bunny in awe, two spiders and an arctic fox.

(Name) saw Mikey completely relaxed and decided they weren't a threat "sorry we couldn't come sooner to meet the new queen but it's a pleasure to meet you" Shinchiro was kind as Mikey and Izana glared at each other but before the two siblings could be idiots, Emma grabbed their ears "new parent and pups in the room" she hissed before smiling at (name), the two had gotten closer after Emma's repeated apologies from the dinner.

"What are their names?"

(Name) let Mikey introduce the pups, the Alpha lifting (name)s hand to gently kiss his knuckles.

The Sano siblings watched as (name) passed out, exhausted justifiably as Mikey scented the pillow so (name) could have his scent close as the siblings spoke.

(Name) was put to a strict bed rest as he tended to his pups as Mikey resumed royal duties, the news of the new royal heirs announced throughout the kingdom.

Thank god for Mikey as two of three pups are already producing webs and the Alpha felt a sense of pride at the tiny pups, their little bunny already sprouting a cotton tail.

"Now I know what you would look like as a bunny" (name) said as they held their pups, (name) refusing to let anyone near the tiny bundles due to instincts and almost attacked a maid who got too close to their babes.

And Mikey couldn't be more proud of his mate protecting the pups.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader #mikey tokyo revengers #mikey x male reader #mikey x reader

[suzukiblu]

i am literally for real obsessed with your timberkon pink kryptonite fic so i definitely would love to see another sneak peek, but i'm also loving all the superfam stuff you're putting out!!! something that i wish you would write because i love your works (and have since the darcy lewis stucky days) and i think you would do amazing things with the pairing is jaytim, but i know thats not everyones cup of tea

(i realize now that you were probably aiming for an ask rather than a reply so here it is in your inbox too hskdhsh)

Thank you! ❤️ And oh, asks and replies were both fine for this, no worries. I try to just specify in-post whenever I have a preference but it's not gonna bother me either way.

I DO like JayTim to read, but I've never really felt a particular bug to write it myself? At least not yet, anyway, that may one day change. Though I miiiiight still put Kon in the middle because I am who I am and all, haha.

I'm planning to update the pink K fic on AO3 tomorrow, though I'm pretty sure I've already posted enough of chapter two in excerpts on Tumblr to have posted basically all of it by now and I'm trying to avoid doing that with chapter three, sooooo instead please accept the beginning of this very niche Superfam omegaverse pack dynamics AU instead. I've been looking for an excuse to post this whole big long thing anyway, lol.

Read-more for length, 'cuz there's kind of a lot here, haha.

.

The representative from the wet nurse agency shows up fifteen minutes early with an unusual-seeming omega who can't be a day over nineteen, being generous. Bruce makes a note to look into the agency's hiring practices a little more closely. The current situation is something of an emergency, unfortunately, and he's only had time to run the intermediate-level background checks so far.

Maybe this isn't the prospective wet nurse, he halfheartedly hopes, and they're just another representative; one who's in training or just here as backup. The kid smells like milk, though, and also why the hell would the agency send out an omega representative? Omegas are typically secretaries and clerks and almost all do in-office jobs, where they're "protected" from the outside world.

The practice is stupid and demeaning and borderline abhorrent, but it's a step up from the days when an omega couldn't get any job that wasn't as a nanny or a sex worker or some fucked-up combination of the two. Clark being an actual reporter is something that was practically unheard of two lousy generations back, and even now Clark is still an unusual exception in his field. Typically, an omega writing for a newspaper would be doing gossip or advice or something domestic, not investigative journalism.

So no, there's no way that this particular omega is anything but a wet nurse candidate, unusual-seeming and concerningly young or not. And Bruce had insisted on the candidate coming to meet them in person, even when the agency had very unsubtly implied that it would be better to just have the milk delivered.

Bruce is absolutely looking into this agency's hiring practices. An omega this age should barely be presented. One who's already allegedly producing enough milk to be a viable wet nurse for what they're requesting . . .

It's concerning, yes.

"Master Bruce, the representative from the Waterton Agency and her associate," Alfred introduces politely, gesturing between Bruce and their guests. He doesn't look or smell disapproving, even in the mildest notes, but Bruce knows he is.

Of course he is, with an omega who might be being either abused or taken advantage of or outright trafficked in the manor.

Bruce should've run a better background check.

"Hello, Alpha Wayne. My name is Ellen Travers," the agency representative greets tightly as Bruce steps into the parlor. She's a harried-looking blonde beta with graying hair who looks very unhappy to be here and is doing a very bad job of hiding the nervous dissatisfaction in her scent.

She doesn't introduce the omega.

Bruce puts on his stupid "Brucie" grin and strides right up to Travers, sticking a hand out to shake. She puts on a weak attempt at a polite smile in return and takes it.

"Hello there, Beta Travers, thanks so much for coming out here on such short notice!" Bruce greets her with a lie of cheerfulness, but Travers continues to smell nervous and upset and her smile is no less forced. And the omega . . .

The kid smells downright sullen, which is not a typical scent to catch off an unfamiliar presented omega and doesn't do anything to make him seem any older.

And yes, he's definitely unusual. He's much taller than Travers–about Bruce's own height, in fact–and has a very broad build and a surprising amount of muscle on him on top of that. Bruce knows full-grown alphas who'd kill to be built like this kid. He's also much more "handsome" than "beautiful", and frankly couldn't look less like the kind of sweet and pretty little things the agency had advertised on their website if he tried, much less the soft and maternal type Bruce had been expecting to actually have show up, given the specific requests he'd made.

Well, it does make sense. Bruce obviously wasn't going to provide the agency with either a Kryptonian genetic profile or a Kryptonian pup's exact dietary needs in search of a suitable wet nurse, but the nutrient requests that they'd made would likely necessitate an omega of a similar build to Clark's to supply–hell, the kid even resembles him a bit, funnily enough. They've already had four agencies tell them that they simply didn't have an appropriate candidate on staff, and the milk samples they'd been able to provide hadn't proven very helpful.

Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, but Martha had at least had the advantage of having a pack bond with him. A packmate's milk always does miles better by a pup than a stranger's or any kind of formula ever could.

Though she'd had some very odd cravings while nursing him, she'd told them. And Clark had still grown up underfed, even with formula and yellow sunlight to supplement–the Fortress had observed marked evidence of childhood malnutrition in him, he'd said.

Occasionally Bruce wonders what a properly-nursed Kryptonian raised under a yellow sun from infancy would've actually turned out like.

The thought is . . . well. A thought.

A thought that still makes him leery of how Jon Kent might grow up, sometimes.

Those concerns aside, though, the really unusual thing about this omega isn't either his physique or his face. Bruce is perfectly used to omegas with "nontraditional" looks after knowing Clark and Diana this long, to say nothing of various other Justice League members or other superheroes and villains he's known, or of both raising and reuniting with Jason. But this omega isn't as demurely dressed as mild-mannered Clark Kent would be; he's wearing opaque sunglasses and an alpha-cut studded leather jacket and alpha-style jeans and an inconveniently inaccessible plain black T-shirt with no sign of a nursing bra underneath it, nothing soft or appealing in either his clothes or his posture. If anything, he looks aggressive; tense and guarded and ready to start some shit. Even Jason usually puts up a temporary illusion of traditional omega mannerisms when he's meeting strangers as a civilian, if only so he'll be underestimated. This kid isn't even pretending to make the attempt.

And the kid smells completely and undeniably stray, too. Bruce can't catch a single note of packscent coming off him. Not even the scent of whatever pup got him milked up enough to qualify for this job. Unbred omegas sometimes lactate in heat or when under stress or if someone in their pack either has or adopts a pup, but a stray who doesn't smell particularly distressed or anything like he's on his cycle shouldn't be producing any milk at all.

At least not without using the kind of stimulants that Bruce explicitly forbade when filling out the agency application, anyway. Those medications are necessary for some omegas, obviously, but in this situation . . .

Kryptonian pups don't respond well to getting anything like that in their milk, they've already very thoroughly learned.

The omega also has spiked stainless steel piercings in his ears, snake bites under his mouth, and two curved barbells in his left eyebrow. All his other jewelry is heavy alpha-styled rings and bracelets, and his nails are painted a chipped black. And he is, notably, not wearing any kind of collar or necklace, and his neck is completely unmarked.

Bruce is in no way oblivious to the obvious message that an uncollared and unbitten omega's neck presents when left so obviously bared. Especially on a stray one who's dressed like an alpha and standing like he's expecting a fight.

He cannot imagine why this kid is working as a wet nurse.

None of the theories that come to mind bode particularly well, though.

"This omega is our most fitting candidate for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, her smile turning increasingly forced. Bruce thinks he can safely translate that expression as that of a beta who did not in any way agree with that assessment but was stuck following orders. "She fulfills all of your nutritional requests, including the necessary iron content and the prioritized fats and proteins, and, of course, is not taking any manner of lactation-inducing stimulants or supplements."

"He," the omega corrects, sounding dubious. Travers's mouth tightens. Bruce knows a lot of old-school traditionalists who won't call a male omega "he" or a female alpha "she", no matter what said omega or alpha's preferences happen to be, and makes another note about looking into this agency more thoroughly.

Much more thoroughly.

"She isn't available for direct nursing, unfortunately, but her milk is a perfect match to your requests and she produces both excellently and reliably; her supply will be more than enough for your needs," Travers continues as if the omega hadn't spoken, and the omega's lip curls in obvious annoyance as he rolls his eyes with no attempt to hide his exasperation even in the presence of an unfamiliar alpha.

Bruce thinks of Jason with a brief pang, and pushes the thought aside. It's not the time.

Maybe he could've asked Jason for help with this, if he'd been a better father. A better alpha. A better . . .

But he wasn't, so now there's an annoyed stranger standing in his parlor instead of a content packmate curled up in their nest.

"Really?" he asks, tilting his head and blinking down at Travers with a deliberately surprised expression. "The consultant made it sound like you'd need multiple donors, for the amount we're asking."

If one goddamn barely-presented kid is actually producing enough milk to even half-feed a Kryptonian pup . . .

"This omega produces sufficient quantities for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers replies with another forced smile. She must know how ridiculous a statement that is, when she's talking about a stray kid and not a fully mature omega with at least a couple of litters under their belt who's well-established in a stable pack, but she says it with conviction all the same.

"Oh, good!" Bruce says brightly, because he's supposed to be a stupid knotheaded playboy who wouldn't know a damn thing about nursing either way. "That'll be convenient, then."

Frankly, he only wishes one omega could produce what they need right now, but requesting that much milk from one agency for just one pup would be immediately flagged as suspicious, and definitely turned down outright. They're still looking for other candidates under false names, but at the rate they're going, they're going to need to keep supplementing with formula, which already hasn't been going well.

If Clark could get milked up himself, this wouldn't be a problem, of course. A Kryptonian omega could easily produce more than enough for one Kryptonian pup, especially under a yellow sun. Clark nursed Jon without a problem for years and was actually overproducing when he was, Bruce knows very well.

Unfortunately, that's not an option anymore. Not since . . .

Clark would never forgive himself if something like that happened again.

Never.

And Kara and Karen are both alphas, and Jon's a beta and only ten anyway, and the only other living Kryptonians they know of are either remorseless criminals imprisoned in the Phantom Zone or the sickly little pup who's slowly wasting away upstairs.

Formula and concentrated yellow sunlight haven't been enough. Clark can't get milked up anymore. They haven't been able to synthesize any appropriate supplements either in the Fortress or in working with the Justice League or STAR Labs or even in collaborating between them.

And the pup is just getting weaker, and quieter, and sicker.

A human wet nurse probably won't even help that much, at this point, but . . .

Well, it's the best chance they have to keep the pup alive until they can synthesize something. Maybe the only chance, now.

"We strive to provide to our clients' convenience, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, and the omega rolls his eyes again. Bruce is less and less convinced of him being an adult in any way but the presentation of his pheromones.

It's rude to address an unfamiliar unpacked omega directly, especially as an alpha. Technically Travers is chaperoning them in a professional situation, though, and Bruce has increasing suspicions about this omega's personal standards so far as "manners" go anyway.

And everyone knows Brucie Wayne is stupid and shameless, of course.

So he flashes the kid a grin, and he says, "Well, it's great to meet you, we appreciate you making the trip! What's your name, Mr. . . .?"

The kid blinks at him, clearly surprised both to be spoken to and to be called "Mr." instead of "Miss" or "Ms." or even "Omega". Travers looks absolutely scandalized.

Bruce really doesn't approve of the kind of traditionalists who won't introduce an omega or use their stated pronouns, though, so fuck if he cares.

"Her name is Carly, Alpha Wayne!" Travers interjects quickly, her tone a little bit too bright to be genuine. "Short for Caroline."

"Just Carl," the kid corrects, shaking his head. Travers's mouth tightens again. It's not a very typical omega name, so no surprise.

It occurs to Bruce to wonder if Carl might be a trans alpha, which he probably should've thought to wonder as soon as he saw how he was dressed and got an impression of his personality. Obviously the kid's at least not currently on HRT if he's working as a wet nurse, but that doesn't rule out the possibility of him being transgender all the same.

Actually, affording gender-affirming care is definitely a reason that a kid like this one would be working this job, especially if said kid's family weren't supporting them. Wet nurses make more money than most other fields that omegas without a diploma can expect to get into, at least short of sex work, and Carl is very obviously too young to have graduated college yet.

Actually, Bruce still isn't even sure if he's old enough to have graduated high school yet.

He's going to burn down this whole damn agency if they're knowingly employing a minor as a wet nurse.

"Nice to meet you, Carl," he says easily. Carl's eyes narrow consideringly, and then he folds his arms and smirks, crooked and casual.

"Sure," he says. "Nice to meet you too, Wayne."

Travers looks agonized. The last non-alpha stranger who called Bruce "Wayne" instead of "Alpha Wayne" was a beta terrorist who was in the middle of kidnapping him, and he's not sure any omega who wasn't an active supervillain ever has, so he's not surprised by her reaction.

Carl is still watching him with the same cocky smirk, though, an obvious challenge in the expression and his posture both. Bruce puts another point towards the possibility of him being a trans alpha, though he's not stupid enough to actually ask if he is, especially not in front of someone the kid works under. Presentation aside, Carl might not be out, and Travers is currently at least professionally following traditional manners, so Bruce doesn't have much hope for this agency being all that progressive and doesn't want to accidentally get the kid fired.

Though if Carl is a minor, Bruce is going to have to see if he can't slip him a business card and find him another job. Especially if he's going to be burning down the agency he's working for.

"Why aren't you available for direct nursing, if you don't mind me asking?" he asks in a curious tone, because he still can't smell a pup on the kid and most wet nurses who aren't nursing their own pups do direct nursing, and he wants intel about the agency's typical practices. Carl shrugs.

"Stubborn tits," he replies, pushing his chest out as he gestures at himself with no apparent sense of shame or self-consciousness, and Travers looks increasingly agonized. Bruce is just increasingly missing Jason, himself. "Milk flows too slow and the pups always get all fussy and stress out about it. Which, whatever, pups are weird anyway, they're not really my thing."

"'Weird'?" Bruce repeats, carefully noting the lack of possessives in reference to any potentially dysphoria-triggering anatomy. Still not a confirmation, but another point. Carl shrugs again.

"I'm afraid Carly doesn't bond appropriately with pups, Alpha Wayne," Travers interjects quickly, and Carl scowls at her. "She has an unfortunate detachment disorder."

"I 'attach' fine," Carl grumbles sourly, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets. "I just don't like kids."

Travers grimaces. Bruce keeps pretending to be an oblivious idiot. He has met omegas who don't like children. They exist.

They're just all deeply, deeply traumatized people. Or clinically insane.

Or both, frequently.

So . . . "detachment disorder" seems likely, yes.

Bruce doesn't consider either sex or gender to be the end-all be-all of a person, of course, but there are certain biological imperatives that no one can deny as existing, and a lactating omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–really, just about any omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–is not ever going to say they "just" don't like kids. Usually the problem with omega wet nurses is them liking kids too much, in fact, and getting distressed or depressed when the parents wean the pups and they won't be seeing them again. The decent agencies have psychological support for that in place and typically offer paid leave between long-term clients. The Waterton Agency does up to a month, which is one of the reasons Bruce chose it.

So yes, Carl is almost definitely traumatized.

Though really, a wet nurse who won't be around much isn't the worst thing, considering. Neither Clark nor Jon started developing any especially noticeable powers until they were older, but they can't assume anything based off a sample size of two, especially when said sample size is made up of biological relatives. And even if they didn't have to worry about that, well, the manor is frequently full of vigilantes and the cave is right underneath it. There's a lot that a regular guest could notice, especially over however long they might need to be nursing. Especially because nursing is a quiet, out-of-the-way activity that takes a while, and it would be very easy for someone to forget to keep their voice down or to not do a damn quadruple-backflip off a chandelier at the wrong moment.

And there's a reason Clark and Lois brought this problem to the shadows of Gotham, as opposed to staying in bright and sunny Metropolis with it. They've got something to hide right now, and a lot to figure out.

Plus if even a molecule of kryptonite gets involved in this situation, even secondhand . . .

Power Girl and Supergirl and Steel are the ones taking shifts watching Metropolis right now, and everyone is just going to leave it at that. Superman isn't coming out for anything less than the apocalypse.

"Well, the Lane-Kents will probably want you to meet the kiddo either way, if you don’t mind," Bruce tells Carl, offering an easy shrug. "Peace of mind, you know how it is."

"Not really," Carl says. Bruce debates slipping the kid a psychiatrist's business card, but he'd probably take it as an insult.

"Er, yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says awkwardly. "Actually, we were expecting Alpha Lane to be with you . . . ?"

"Lois is currently stuck in Metropolis traffic thanks to Metallo bashing up half of downtown this afternoon and Clark is upstairs getting the kiddo around. Little guy just woke up from his nap," Bruce replies with a pleasant smile, making another note of how Travers left off the omega member of the couple's last name, and also apparently doesn't expect to be meeting said omega at all. He is increasingly regretting choosing this agency, though he may yet manage to do some good in the world by subtly dismantling it. Or maybe just by buying it outright and doing a little restructuring.

Or a lot of restructuring.

"Wait, it's not your kid?" Carl asks, wrinkling his nose with a puzzled expression. Travers looks pained. The Waterton Agency isn't Gotham-based, so Bruce isn't sure why she apparently expects Carl to be up on the Wayne pack's current members, especially considering how she keeps talking over and outright ignoring him. Bruce has a hard time picturing her bothering to provide the information herself, at this point.

"Oh, no, just doing a favor for some visiting friends," he replies smoothly, still wearing the same pleasant smile. Which is a lie, of course, because actually the Lane-Kents are part of his secondary pack and "visiting friends" therefore in no way covers what they are to him. The Wayne pack is both his primary and his family pack, obviously, and the Justice League is a loosely-connected tertiary pack, but his secondary pack lacks both an official name and public recognition, because explaining to the public why Brucie Wayne's secondary pack is two award-winning reporters from Metropolis, a random museum curator in Gateway City, a decorated Navy SEAL, and occasionally a cat burglar with commitment issues is just not going to work out for anyone's secret identities.

And that even without counting how everyone knows about Lois Lane and Steve Trevor's respective very public connections to Superman and Wonder Woman, much less ever explaining anything about Selina. Bruce, meanwhile, still isn't sure how he ended up in a pack with any of these people. Clark and Diana definitely have a lot to answer for either way, though.

Mostly he blames Clark. Diana has more decorum. Clark is just . . . Clark, so now Bruce gets a scarf and cookies from Martha Kent every Christmas, never mind that he's technically Jewish, because God forbid he ever tells her that and she starts sending him Hanukkah presents instead. He cannot handle eight nights' worth of Martha Kent's colorfully-wrapped scarves and lovingly-packaged cookies. That's just not a thing he can do.

He doesn't even celebrate holidays, except when Dick cons him into it. Which admittedly he's been doing more often again the past few years, but–

This is off-topic, Bruce reminds himself, but then gets distracted as Carl cocks his head a little and frowns over something. Bruce instinctively wants to brace himself for trouble at the sight, because that frown actually very strongly reminds him of Clark's "what the hell weird and concerning thing did I just notice with my super-senses" frown, but A) Carl doesn't have super-senses and B) Bruce just heard the stairs creak, which means the actual Clark is finally on his way down to meet them. No one else in the manor would ever make the steps creak any way but deliberately except for Lois or Jon, and Jon is out on a walk with Damian and Titus while Lois is, again, currently stuck in Metropolis traffic. So: Clark, definitely.

Also Clark tends to make the stairs creak a lot louder than either Lois or Jon do, given the very notable size difference there.

"Has Alpha Lane authorized you to make decisions for his pup's care, Alpha Wayne?" Travers asks with another forced smile. Bruce is resolving to check specifically her background too, at this point.

"No, no, that won't be necessary, good ol' Clark's right here," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "It's his pup too, and he knows much more about ones this age than I do anyway."

"Yes, well, omegas tend to get a little . . . irrational about the idea of sharing their pups with a wet nurse," Travers says "politely", like she thinks she's stating a fact. Bruce would say something cheerful-sounding and subtly insulting back, typically, but Carl's frown is deepening and he looks a little bit . . . odd, maybe, or . . .

There's a strange little pup-call from the stairs, very quiet and echoing in unusual registers but still recognizably one all the same, and just as recognizably resigned-sounding. It's a pup-call that clearly expects to go unanswered, at this point, which is something that Bruce would like to never hear again in his life, given the option.

Though it's better than a pup who's given up on calling at all, he supposes.

He tries not to grimace at that thought, though he's sure Clark's grimacing enough for the both of them right now after hearing a call like that. The pup is starving, and they just can't feed him properly. At this point sending him back where he came from might be kinder.

Honestly, if Bruce didn't know exactly who his parents were, he might've already insisted on that.

It's just–

The pup calls again, even quieter. Travers looks perplexed.

"Er," she says. "I apologize, Alpha Wayne, but is the pup ill? We can't be around them if they are, it's against agency policy."

"Oh, the kiddo just sounds like that," Bruce replies dismissively, and then lies, "Vocal chord deformity, apparently. We're not sure what caused it, pediatrician thinks it's something genetic."

Well, it is genetic. Jon calls in exactly the same registers, and according to Martha and Jonathan so did Clark.

So it's genetic, yes. Just not a deformity.

Carl's expression looks–odd, still. Bruce isn't sure what to think of it, but it makes him a bit wary. A detachment disorder doesn't imply an actual negative reaction to the presence of a pup, obviously, but . . .

Clark steps into the parlor with Lor-Zod sitting on his hip, the pup no older than two or so and looking small and listless in his arms, his dark skin all washed out and his previously bright eyes gone dull and tired. When he first crash-landed in Metropolis in the rocket he'd been wrapped up inside, Clark said he'd popped out of it energetic and excited and clamoring for attention in toddler-level Kryptonian, but he's been slowly fading ever since, wasting away without the nutrients that they just can't provide him. He's probably only made it this long thanks to the sun.

Again, Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, though he was already at least three by the time they got him, which probably helped. A pup Lor's age is capable of eating solid food, obviously, but milk or formula is still a major part of a pup's diet until they're four or five, if not older, and the longer the better. Hell, most kids still at least semi-regularly nurse for as long as their dam can manage to stay milked up, or even until they present themselves. No one can wean a damn toddler and expect them to thrive.

Or even survive, in Lor's case.

Lor opens his mouth in another weak, resigned little pup-call, and Clark's own mouth tightens as he restrains himself from answering it and giving the pup false hope for milk he just doesn't have, and Bruce steels himself to–

Carl croons.

Travers startles. Bruce is . . . surprised, a bit. A detachment disorder doesn't really imply the kind of omega who'd croon at a pup they've never seen before in their life, after all.

It's an unusual and unpracticed croon, as if it's a sound Carl doesn't make very often, which Bruce supposes would make sense. Lor responds to it immediately, though, shifting weakly in Clark's arms and pup-calling again.

Carl, with absolutely no manners or decorum whatsoever, sweeps right past Travers and Bruce and Alfred and just plucks Lor straight out of Clark's arms. Which–forget the kid calling him "Wayne"; that's a damn etiquette breach. Hell, Clark probably only didn't take Carl's head off for snatching up his pup without permission because he's so clearly dumbfounded that he actually did it.

Bruce is slightly less dumbfounded due to having spent five seconds in the kid's presence, but still, what is he–

"Carly!" Travers chokes in horror. Carl very obviously doesn't even hear her and just starts purring at Lor and cuddling him close in a way that really doesn't even slightly imply "detachment disorder".

And then Bruce figures out what was "odd" about Carl's expression, before.

"Huh," he says, a little bemused. "Did he just go into feral drop?"

"Alpha Wayne, I assure you, this is not the Waterton Agency's standard of behavior!" Travers sputters, sounding even more horrified, and Clark just blinks and tilts his head.

"I think he did, yeah," he says, looking perplexed. Carl continues ignoring everyone in the room except for Lor and just purrs louder at him as they both nuzzle into each other. Lor makes more very distinctly Kryptonian pup-calls at him, and Carl croons back with no apparent concern over their strangeness, sounding absolutely goddamn enamored.

That is definitely not a detachment disorder, Bruce thinks. There is no possible way that an omega with a detachment disorder just went into full feral drop over a pup at first sight.

Or possibly first sound, he's realizing.

Bruce is perfectly aware that omegas can feral-bond with distressed pups whether they mean to or not, but he's never seen it happen this fast outside of a warzone or a natural disaster. He's heard hearsay and read studies about particularly compatible sets that have done it under less stressful circumstances, but distressed and starving pup or not, he wouldn't have even expected a human omega to be capable of bonding with a Kryptonian pup like that.

Or at all, frankly. Deliberately created and carefully cultivated pack bonds are one thing, but . . .

Lor chirps, the sound still a little quiet and fragile, a little weak, but also undeniably hopeful, and Carl gives him a low, rumbly purr in reply and yanks up his inconveniently-cut T-shirt to expose his chest with no trace of hesitation or modesty. He's already leaking sweetly-scented milk, already adjusting his grip on Lor to let the pup get at his chest as easily and comfortably as possible, and Lor latches without a moment's hesitation and immediately starts to nurse.

And then Lor purrs. Carl just watches him with undeniable adoration, still paying no attention whatsoever to anyone else in the room.

Alright, then, Bruce thinks carefully.

Well, that just happened.

"Thought you didn't like kids, Carl?" he inquires casually, putting on an easy grin, and Carl finally seems to come up enough to remember that the rest of them exist, though he still doesn't actually take his eyes off Lor.

"I would literally become a supervillain if this kid asked me to," he replies dreamily, keeping Lor cradled in one arm and tracing a finger down the pup's cheek with a soft, besotted expression that's unmistakable for what it is even with the sunglasses on. He looks like he might just burn down the world if someone tried to take Lor away from him right now, and his pheromones are so all-encompassing and so cloyingly sweet that Bruce genuinely might need to see a dentist after this.

"Well usually I'd say we keep Batman in the loop on that kind of thing around here, but if the kiddo asks, it only seems fair," he jokes with a laugh.

"I would drop-kick Batman off a roof for you," Carl informs Lor lovingly as he strokes his cheek again and then skims a fingertip along the little barely-visible scar splitting his eyebrow. Lor keeps purring sweetly and Alfred coughs to conceal a low chuckle. Clark looks a little pained to be watching one of his pups nurse from another omega so easily and eagerly, but his mouth quirks in amusement at the comment anyway. Bruce doesn't dignify any of them with a response, because he is an alpha with dignity and also is in no way threatened by a passing comment from a barely-presented kid who clearly isn't even combat-trained.

. . . although he also isn't going to be stupid enough to try coaxing Lor away from the omega he just feral-bonded with just yet either.

Then Tim walks by the doorway, takes one look at Carl with Lor, and trips over literally nothing and into a full faceplant on the foyer floor. Bruce pauses, then raises an eyebrow.

"Alright down there, Timmy?" he asks. Tim scrambles back to his feet, looking more genuinely mortified than he's ever seen him.

"Fine!" he blurts. "Fine. Everything's fine. All the things are fine. Uh. What? Who?"

"This is Carl," Bruce says, gesturing to the kid. "Wet nurse from the Waterton Agency. And his escort, Beta Travers. Carl, Beta Travers, this is my son, Tim Drake-Wayne. And also Clark Lane-Kent and his pup, Chris Lane-Kent, who I'm assuming you've figured out are your prospective clients."

"Yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says with a grimace. "We gathered."

"Ngh," Tim says, looking at literally everything but Carl and Lor. His face is bright red, which is an unusual amount of embarrassment for him to be showing just over tripping. Typically he masks that kind of thing a lot more effectively. Bruce would almost think he was actually embarrassed by watching Carl feed Lor, but Tim's literally never been affected by anything but passing curiosity when seeing a pup nurse before, so that seems unlikely. And he's a male beta, if still an unpresented one, so it's not like he's got any reason to care all that much about it anyway.

So his reaction does seem a little odd, yes.

Hm.

"Chris," Carl coos adoringly down at Lor. Bruce is in no way stupid enough to think that he absorbed any of the rest of that introduction or has even noticed Tim's presence at all. He wouldn't even put money on him having noticed Clark's presence, in fact, except as a pup-delivery system. The kid is very clearly in love with the pup in his arms and doesn't give a damn about any of the rest of them at all.

Detachment disorder. Sure.

#bruce wayne #kon el #clark kent #chris kent #tim drake #superfamily #timkon #lowkey but it's there lol #omegaverse #not sfw #this-was-a-terrible-idea #rinfic #wip: the wet nurse omegaverse

[lewkwoodnco]

Now That We Don't Talk - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: very very brief suicidal mention, sooooo much writer's block hhhh (the seasonal depression is depressing), (angst but diluted if that makes sense) add/remove yourself from my taglist in the link beloooow ALSO

🎄Special Announcement! I'll be doing a twelve days of Christmas fic series (1 songfic fic a day leading up to Christmas) BUT I will also be accepting extra holiday-themed requests (if any)!🎄

(speaking of the holidays, thinking of switching to a santa-themed george icon soon hmmm), wc 3.1k

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 3.5 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

TAGLIST | MATERLIST

Moving had been a surprisingly smooth process that she remembered little of. She had to take care to not think too much about the ornaments she was packing or the boxes she was taping shut or the lonely town she was numbly driving towards, lest the rest of her catch up to the grief weighing her down. Her supervisor had looked plenty confused when she explained where she was transferring to, and muttered something about not knowing if there were any visitors there.

As steep as the change was from working in central London to a significantly sleepier town, she seemed to be adjusting fine. In fact, she was liking the peace and quiet. Or at least, she would, soon enough. She'd learn the right habits, like finding contentment in the stagnant void that descended on her windows far too quickly every evening, the same way she'd unlearn bad habits, like him. So no, her biggest problem was hardly the early sunsets here, but was actually what everyone wanted to talk to her about when she called. The one thing everyone - her old teammates, colleagues, friends - wanted to make sure she knew.

"The gala was fantastic this year - though not as fun without you, of course -"

"You'll never believe who showed up."

"He looked very sharp in his suit. He cleans up nice, I suppose - Anthony Lockwood, I mean."

"They've become quite the celebrities, that Lockwood & Co., though the other two don't seem to tolerate the cameras like he does."

"Oh, you should have seen it. Say what you will about Lockwood but does he know how to make an entrance!"

"Were you at the gala this year?"

She sighed for what must have been the fifth time that day. "No, Ted, I was not. You were at my farewell party, remember?"

"Tha' was for you?"

"Goodbye, Ted."

"Wait! You've seen the pictures, haven't you?"

"No, I haven't, because contrary to popular belief, I am not obsessed with evrything that goes on at Fittes."

"Well, we had a tiptop chocolate fountain this year. Didn't get clogged once and looked absolutely gorgeous. Anywho, I've recently stumbled upon this smashing business opportunity involving chocolate fountains - they're selling like hot cakes, I tell you! - and I'd love to spread the wealth."

"Theodore, you haven't joined another MLM, have you?"

"What is an MLM, other than an opportunity to invest in yourself?"

"Don't make me phone your mother."

The call ended rather abruptly after that. Only Lucy, as always, was an angel.

"I take it you've heard plenty about him?"

"Who? Oh, him. Yes, more than plenty."

"I thought you might. He has...quite the presence, so the papers wanted to interview him, and he agreed - "

" - obviously - "

"And I think they asked him about you at some point."

Her mouth dried. She struggled to find her voice, forcing it to stay casually disinterested. "Hm? What did he say?"

"Absolutely nothing. First and probably last time I've seen him stunned speechless. Naturally, it's all anyone can talk about."

"Mhm."

"He hasn't talked about you, if you're wondering. Sees it coming from a mile away every time George and I try to bring it up. It's so stupid; we know it, he knows it, and he's always in a foul mood. He keeps thinking, these days...Y/N?"

"I don't care."

"No one would blame you if you did."

"I don't."

"So how are you holding up?"

"Well, Luce, I felt happiness outside of external validation for the first time in...ever, then three months later I'm crying in my bathtub wishing I would die, and now I'm miles away from everyone I ever knew and it's always dark outside and I'm always miserable. I'm doing great."

She could hear the exhaustion in the crackling static of the telephone. It occurred to her that she wasn't much acting all that cheerful either.

"If it makes you feel any better, I think he half-expected to see you there."

She inhaled sharply and sat up in her armchair so fast she could feel a cramp curling in her neck. She didn't dare believe Lucy's words. "Really?" she wanted to breathe into the telephone, and revel in dormant delusions, if only for a moment. Instead, she gingerly sank back into the chair, continuing in a flat voice.

"Well, I don't care about any of that now. Oh, I'm sick of it. All of it. If I never hear his name again for as long as I live, it'll be still be too soon. How's George doing?"

After she hung up, she laid in her chair, watching the shadows from her shutters stretch and fold over her furniture as the sun set. She was thinking about the last party she had been to, a yacht party where some of Fittes' and Rotwell's biggest investors were in attendance. How Lockwood had managed to score an invite was beyond her, but what intrigued her more was the cab ride they shared back to Portland Row.

She had been half-dozing off when she felt a hand cover hers. As she blinked at him blearily, she noticed the rigid tension in his spine, as if poised and waiting for an attack. He was clutching her hand purposefully, as if holding off on warning her about something malevolent that was consuming him. She couldn't see his face, which began to feel no different from the cold, hard window pane it was peering out of.

She stirred, distantly unnerved by his impersonality. He glanced at her, apologetically retracting his hand with a sheepish smile. But that look of consternation remained on his face as he turned back to the window with a furrowed brow, with the air of waiting for something. He visibly relaxed as they approached Portland Row, but she couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling even by the time they reached the doorstep.

"You all right?" she was asking, while Lockwood fumbled with their keys.

"'Course. Why wouldn't I be?"

She didn't respond, and the two of them watched him wrench at the key in the lock, trying to steady his mildly trembling fingers.

"Key turns the other way."

He paused his efforts, and after a second or two turned the key the other way. The door slid open smoothly with a click. He held it open, but she just looked at him expectantly. He sighed.

"I'm fine, I promise. I just...get a little nervous around some parts of London."

"Which parts?"

"Some."

"Scared of what?"

"A few things."

"Why?"

"For fun. Look, I'm freezing out here. Can we just drop this?"

That was more than a mild exaggeration; the sun had only just set and the air was still pleasantly balmy. But he looked so beseechingly, and it didn't take much for her to relent when it came to Lockwood, so they stepped inside and shrugged their coats off in silence.

"I'll tell you some day. I'm sure I will."

That was some day too far away. Now she'll never know if, or why he ever felt like that. Or rather, she wouldn't know when he would feel like that. But it was no matter. It was none of her business then, and it was even less of her business now.

She had mostly forgotten about her conversation with Lucy by the following week, which was why her parcel came as a bit of a surprise, especially since she'd mentioned being swamped by a mountain of upcoming cases.

Y/N -

I was thinking about our call the other day. On a completely unrelated note, here's about every gossip rag from the past month I could find at Arif's.

Love, Lucy.

She was beginning to see what was so appealing about these magazines. As ruthless as they could be, they sure knew how to sell a pipe dream to common folk with less exciting lives. The gala was clearly as glitzy and glamorous as it was every year, and the articles held an air of intrigue now that she was quite separate from Fittes. But that quivering excitement became somewhat muffled as she flipped through the glossy pages.

The Anthony Lockwood she saw now looked worlds apart from the Lockwood she left behind. His well-fitting suit, megawatt smile and carefully styled hair made him look expensive in a way that destabilised her. She flipped through photograph after photograph of him looking jarringly luxurious besides walls of text effusing about the success of their latest case, and what an honour it must have been to be personally invited by Marissa Fittes herself. It weighed at the pit in her stomach to see this unfamiliar silhouette of a friend who was become increasingly unattainable, speeding along roads to prosperity faster than she could ever keep up with.

She sifted through the other rags. The most extensive feature was a few pages long, and was centered more on the exciting, up-and-coming agency that was Lockwood & Co. rather than a specific case. There were pictures from their most recent cases, and in each one he looked unnaturally distinct from the last, but in every single one he oozed an appealingly languid charisma. It was good to see him doing so well. She was happy for him. Or she would be, tomorrow, when she had the strength for it. Lockwood was unbearable in a way that made him perfect for a life in the public eye, a life for which she was somehow always deficient. She traced a too-long strand of hair flopped on his forehead in one of the photographs, as if she could magically straighten it out.

She could see him now, thumbing through the pages with an approving tilt to his head, limbs folded uncomfortably in the armchair he always insisted on sharing with her. "No such thing as bad press," he'd claim absent-mindedly, his too-long hair flopping impractically. And she'd watch him with bruised eyes like she always did, wishing for nothing more in that moment shared with him. In other words, wishing for nothing short of what she could never have.

Maybe it was some lingering wish to break herself before he beat her to it. Because that was all it was; dodging blows, lying through pretty teeth, racing ahead to pull one over on him, cursing the feel of his breath on her. There was simply no calm, no respite, only the all-consuming experience of becoming wrapped up in him and losing bits and pieces of herself which would never again be truly hers.

She picked up the telephone again. It felt too heavy in her hand. Numbly, she spun the dial as if on autopilot, keying in her mother's phone number. The dial tone comforted her in some twisted yet cathartic acknowledgement of the emptiness inside of her.

Looking at it now she could see the distinct air of mystery that engulfed Lockwood and clouded her vision. He was never quite fully present; a part of him was always tucked away to be kept secret in some dark corner, and her mind was only too happy to extrapolate, to construct this most desirable yet entirely mythical figment. She felt ragged, winded and worn from battling reality day after day, all alone. And most of all, she felt so very stupid.

Her mother was saying that she had made the right decision. Not that she needed any reminding. Of course her life had taken an upward swing ever since; she'd be a fool to think otherwise. She was positively paralysed with liberty, bedridden with joy, simply immobile with ecstasy!

She was slowly but surely going very insane. Now making eyes at each other, now disconnect, now love, now heartache, now this, now that, but never any peace. Maybe it was some lingering wish to shatter and let the pent up misery dissipate.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Months passed. The holiday season arrived, and she choked through the November blues with shivering bones and clammy hands. Even with the slight uptick in visitors, as was expected in the colder months, her life provided little to distract her from her own ghosts under the floorboards. So when she received a consultancy request from Fittes one morning, she had written back and mailed her response all while still holding the jam knife.

The train was crowded and noisy with the bustle of the holidays, but as it chugged along through the fields of snow, she couldn't help but perk up ever so slightly at every sigh and creak of its wheels. There was a spring in her step all the way to Fittes headquarters, where she was supposed to collect her apartment key.

A tall, indistinct figure was walking out of the revolving doors as she approached. She flinched when she realised who it was - Lockwood, who didn't seem much happier to see her either. He looked mostly well, though the corners of his mouth were a little strained, his face flushed in the cold.

"...Y/N?"

"Lockwood."

"You're...home?"

"Yeah. Um, how have you been?"

"Good...good. Busy. As busy as winter gets."

He was wearing a different coat. It was quite similar to his old one, but this one was thicker and more structured, and looked like it was at least somewhat effective in keeping the brisk winter wind out. He looked foreign and unfamiliar in a way he hadn't since...since the Investors Party.

It had taken her a while to pick his face out of the pretentious crowd, given how preoccupied she was with weaving through the thicket of people. It had taken her a eyes minute to adjust to the almost nauseatingly charismatic silhouette of an especially-chuffed Lockwood in a newly tailored but otherwise identical suit. She tried to give him a reproaching look, but there was something infectious in his smooth ease as he larked about in his prime which made her lips twitch despite herself as he waded through the crowds.

"You really shouldn't be here."

"You're clearly not drunk enough yet."

"How did you even get in? This is invitation-only."

"Had an invite, didn't I?"

She pursed her lips, shaking her head slightly. He was hopelessly incorrigible in an oddly fascinating way. Her voice dropped to a murmur as she felt herself begin to relent.

"I ought to...tell someone about you."

"That you're secretly in love with me?"

"That we have an illegal stowaway."

"You're not going to rat me out, are you?"

The pleading look on his face was enough to give her pause. She was already beginning to regret her decision, but he looked so vivacious it was difficult to stay disapproving for long.

"Excellent. Now, would you be so good as to point me in the direction of the bigger spenders?"

They spend the next few hours laughing and entertaining the many important men on the boat and their great deal of important thoughts. She'd excuse herself towards the end of every conversation to leave Lockwood and the glimmer in his eye to close a deal. For someone so adept at climbing the corporate ladder, she was surprisingly poor at fulfilling these adjacent duties.

She hated every second of it, and she drank as much as she could without raising eyebrows to make it all halfway palatable, but it was all worth it then. He had wanted to stay for as long as it would have been polite, so when they finally left, long after the media had made their rounds at the event, his jacket was folded over his left arm and his hand was delicately holding hers.

When she was stuck in her drafty cottage on the edge of nowhere, she'd think about the feel of his fingers curling around her palm more than it was appropriate, and wonder how she ever thought she was somehow better off here.

But that evening's sense of camraderie was long gone. Now, she regarded him coolly, holding him at arm's length. They may have had a rough falling out, but that didn't mean they couldn't still be friends. Just friends. Nothing more. But the vaguely intimate look in Lockwood's eye told her he was in no mood to entertain any kind of platonic notions.

"I didn't know you were back."

She relented. It was the season of giving, after all.

"Only for a while. Fittes hired me as a consultant for a few months."

He blinked at her. "You could have called."

"I didn't think you'd be interested."

"Of course I'd be interested. I'm always interested when it comes to you."

She sighed sharply. It was so easy to get swept up and believe him when he said things like that, that she wondered how she found the strength to leave. He was a bastard, a ne'er-do-well who only knew how to break her heart after promising sweet, simple luxuries in whispers over expanses of skin. She made her lips tremble, her pulse quicken, her heart shake in all the worst ways.

But underneath all that, love was there. Love was there...still.

"Ready to go?"

They turned in unison towards a strikingly beautiful girl with glossy raven curls walking out of the revolving doors. The girl's smile only slipped a fraction as she shook her hand, and she was distantly aware of making some kind of clumsy introduction. They stuttered through some stunted small talk, during which all she was aware of was the blood roaring in her ears that gave the whole scene a distantly muffled feel. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Well, this was...lovely. Shall we go, then?"

The girl turned to leave, but some semblance of hesitation prevented her from pulling Lockwood along with her.. His face still had that same confused look.

"You could have called," he repeated tonelessly, like a broken record. The girl's presence made the back of her neck smart and prickle uncomfortably.

"I might, later."

"Bye. Nice meeting you."

"Nice meeting you too."

"We're home all day."

The last one was from Lockwood.

"Just...if you want to drop by. So that Luce and George don't have my head on a platter by supper."

"Goodbye, Lockwood."

He was captivating in a way that made her want to keep him all to herself. No one needed to intrude on this tantalising secret they shared. It was at that moment that she made the very unfortunate realisation that she didn't need to say it out loud to make what she had been screaming from the rooftops of her heart any more real - him and her would forever be unfinished business.

And nothing she could do could make the palpitations of her heart any less real either.

As the life she once dreamed of walked away from her, all she was acutely aware of was that it was a lingering wish, some half-thought dream, to sit opposite him in a chilly kitchen on blustery mornings, watching him drink his tea while she got drunk on him.

TAGLIST: @novelizt @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @mischivana @mitskiswift99 @houseoftwistedspirits

#lockwood & co #fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood imagine #fanfic #lockwood x y/n #taylor swift #1989 vault tracks #taylor swift 1989 #1989 tv #1989 #1989 taylor's version #now that we don't talk

[posallys]

ok 1 ur desktop theme is GORG and 2 i need (if u wanna) ur thoughts about the show (or show sally in gen bc ur the only one i trust with her)

thank you!! i was actually thinking about updating it but maybe i wont 🤭🤭 and i have a lot of thoughts about the show except none only very few of them are good and i will be crucified by the 13-year-olds

im going to tell you anyway.

i will start with something i like....percy being angry. like yes give me the anger of a 12 year old who feels utterly alone in the world and doesn't understand (or does and it makes him more angry)

the fight scenes are dog shit. the only kind of cool one was in the arch but it was only cool because of percy doing the bait and switch and falling through the arch...the fights are bland boring sucky whatever other synonym you wanna use

uhhhhh sally jackson is not and would never be sitting in the rain pining of the god she told to leave....and especially not to teen pop...if she WERE going to act like a 16 year old and do the pining thing it would be to fucking like...billy joel and ricky martin and donny hathaway and stuff llike that okay...

i will preface this by saying that yes i understand that talking back to an abuser the way sally does in ep 1 doesn't make the abuse less abusive....however i DO not like the fact that that scene explicitly goes against sally characterization in the books....i am not digging my book out atm but the part where percy is like "my mother has never raised her voice or said an unkind word to anyone"....me thinks the writers all read the books 10 years ago and are going off of memory alone + or their brains are so clouded by the obsessive Big Screen Need to make women a badass girlboss slay queen i fucking hate it here

LET ANNABETH BE SILLY AND FUNNY AND CUTE AND CRY AND NOT BE AN ADULT THANK YOU....hated that they made annabeth the one to realize that it was medusa and not grover...give me back grover having to wrangle percy and annabeth into backpack leashes just to keep them on task/stop them from wandering off...book trio i miss you

i absolutely ADORE leah, walker, and aryan though the three of them are so so perfect, A+ casting no notes couldn't have done it better myself. if it weren't for the three of them i would have zero hope for the show i cannot lie...they're carrying. without them it's just..bad.

the pacing???? bad.

why did we waste half of the 4th ep on the train with echidna...stupid dumb pointless i hate it here

i do like the whole not all monsters are monsters and the gods aren't inherently good just because they're gods thing they've got going on though...very inch resting...silently hoping that they do a complete 180 and have percy side with luke and redo the series from there because that would be iconic as fuck <3 a girl can dream because at least then i could take the show at face value and not take 80 health damage every time they mess up a key part of the books...im at -29834 heath rn.

where was the time at chb before the quest??? the oh so important vital scene where luke teaches percy to sword fight???? like BRO that's soooooooooooo important to ME how could you get rid of that

not having annabeth show percy around camp

additionally, not having annabeth feed him the nectar and ambrosia, WHICH BY THE WAY they haven't even mentioned in the show yet...plot armor gone rip

not the fredrick chase sympathy while simultaniously blaming the woman...........rick when i get my hands on you...

annabeth having to EARN thalia's love??? absolutely not probably one of their biggest fuck ups fr.

the scene where sally is talking about Poseidon to percy...i do not like it sam i am. bad. not wistful enough not longing enough not sad enough not gut wrenching enough...also not completely here for sally telling percy that his dad was a god because....sallys whole thing was NOT telling him in order to keep him safe...i know they changed it in the show so sally knew he was going to camp immediately but that does not mean i have to like it

the scene with sally and percy in the pool. i hated everything about that. sally would never talk to percy like that never talk to him about money never make it seem embarassing NOT TO MENTION that percy simply wasn't scared of the water. that's stupid as fuck. theres a part in the book where percy literally says being by the water calms both him and his mom like...come the fuck on just admit you can't fucking read or at least didn't read the book.

sally annabeth get behind me so they cant hurt you anymore

i did loveeeee percy praying to sally though...absoutely insane and true of them. also the "I AM SALLY JACKSON'S SON" yesss baby you tell them about your mommy!!!!!!

them making athena moa level bad in tlt is quite interesting. setting up annabeth siding with percy pretty well.

also the whole impertinence thing over medusa's head was weird to me. when annabeth first said that i had immediately thought that annabeth's impertinence was telling percy to pray to poseidon IN ATHENA'S TEMPLE bc that made much more sense to me...but whatever

the annabeth/medusa parallel is intriguing at the very least

the underwater scene with the neraid was cool even though i hated the parallel to the pool scene w/ sally.

the dumbass pinecone fate line. 0/10 did you read the book? did you pay attention to how empathetic and reflective percy was when he found out about thalia?

honestly....i think disney was just the wrong place to go with this show because it's like what...pg? it should be pg 13 and should have more... sustenance.

this medusa was so cool though. which we could've seen a fight.

i need to know how many women are in the writer's room though...because It Does Not Look Good. funny how the characters that they're fucking up are all women....crazy. weird. totally coincidental.

are we just not going to talk about the vitality and pressure of getting the bolt back on time? where is the inherent inevitable danger, the suspense, the fear of not accomplishing a seemingly impossible talk looming over everything

this is 10000% not all of my thoughts but im not going to rewatch in order to collect them all so this is what you get xoxox

#taylor answers #ask tag #anon #pjo tv #pjo tv crit #pjo show #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson

[whatdoidosatoru]

Sleeping In

PART 3 of The Only Exception

- part 1 - part 2 - part 4 - ao3

pairing: Keisuke Baji x OC (reader)

wc: 4.6k

tags: smut, fluff, no use of y/n, some back story (talk of cheating etc..), oral sex (m and f receiving), this chapter is actually pretty mild, sorry :)

summary: after another night of shenanigans with Keisuke, he cleared his schedule to spend a day with me

music:

Absolutely (Story About a Girl) - Nine Days

The Great Escape - Boys Like Girls

Coffee at Midnight - Stand Atlantic

Always - Panic! At The Disco

Church - Fall Out Boy

Sarah Smiles - Panic! At The Disco

Memories Of A Broken Heart - Crown The Empire

Sleeping In - All Time Low

Always - blink-182

MDNI! 18+ ONLY!

I rolled over after what seemed to be a very short nap to find Keisuke with a very focused face holding a book from beside my bed.

“Everything okay?” I seemed to have snapped him out of his focus.

“Oh, yeah, this is just a bit weird."

I chuckled, “Yeah, it’s quite different. One of the main themes is reinvention of oneself and writing one’s own story. Meaning, in storytelling, you can reshape your life and constantly move from one self to the other and so on. If you want, you can borrow it, I’ve read it twice already.” He put the book away and slid back down to meet me for a kiss. 

“Maybe later, I like the person I am with you now.” He pushed my hair out of my face.

“Uhh so,” I started, clearing my throat, “What was that ‘all mine’ business?”

His face turned serious, “Did you not like it? I’m sorry if it was too much…”

“No, no, it’s not that,” I quickly stopped him, “I was just wondering what that meant to you.”

“I thought it seemed kind of obvious?”

“Let’s pretend it’s not and I’d like you to clarify.”

With a sharp inhale I stared at his face. I couldn’t say I hadn’t thought about it. There’s a certain satisfaction in fantasising about a relationship with a person you’ve only seen in a public space once and couldn’t forget their face. But this was different, he was really here, physically and emotionally, asking me to trust him and let him in.

He sat up and I followed, both completely naked and vulnerable.

"I want to be with you. I want you to be mine and nobody else’s. I really like you, to the point that I don’t know how I survived those 28 hours between leaving and seeing you again, having the confirmation that I was just overthinking things. I want to be the only person to do these things with you. I want to take you out on dates and then come back home with you and hold you until we fall asleep,” he shook his head, breaking eye contact, “and now that I said all this I really hope you feel somewhat the same because if you don’t I might just lose my mind.”

 All I could hear was a faraway voice in my head, repeating a mantra that had kept me from living my life the way I was supposed to.

You’re so obsessed with me and naive, no wonder I could sneak around and bed a different girl every night and still come back to you to take me in. Are you so stupid that you can’t see that we have been over for months now? I just kept you around so your cunt can be useful to me.

Keisuke sighed, reaching to touch my face. “Then I guess I’ll have to try harder to get to know you,” he said with a smile, “I’m not giving up on you, Yuna. I know we’re going to be good together, I can just feel it in my bones. Whatever I can do to help you see it, I’ll do it.”

“Keisuke…” his eyes locked onto mine.

“...I’m not sure you thought this through enough. You don’t really know me, you don’t know what a mess my head is in. I want to say yes and it felt right saying I was yours, but I’m afraid we’d rush into it and ruin everything.”

“Can we just watch something first?” I asked.

“Can you be naked while we watch?” His mouth showed a devilish grin.

“Pervert.” I playfully smacked his shoulder, then leaned over to kiss his soft lips, digging my hand into his hair, now in a very loose ponytail. He bit my lower lip, took out the hair bobble, and shook his hair out. I got up to position my laptop on the desk so we could see the screen and put on one of my favourite series.

~ 

When I got back to bed, Keisuke wrapped his arm around me and kissed the top of my head,

“I’m still going to call you mine until you tell me to fuck off.” I didn’t think that could ever be an option.

Mai Darling, 21:33

i’m going to sleep, getting up early to finish my research paper so you can get spicy wherever

just please don’t do it in the kitchen

i don’t want your sex particles in my food

Yunaaaaasty, 21:34

good night my darling i hope we dont wake you later <3

Mai Darling, 21:34

you’d better not or i’ll rip your boyfriend’s dick off :D

Yunaaaaasty, 21:34

:’(

Mai Darling, 21:35

thought so, good night and stay safe lovebirds <3

Huh. Boyfriend.

Something about the notion felt safe and comforting. But that was just a recipe to get hurt again. Especially after last time…

~

“I’ll be out late, don’t wait up,” the voice on the other end of the line said. My heart sank, this had been happening for months now, we never saw each other, apart from him sneaking through my window in the dead of night, waking me up for a quick fuck and then passing out, disappearing before I woke up. Whenever I wanted to bring up the fact that we didn’t spend time together anymore, that I was losing interest in him because we didn’t even talk, he’d wave it off. “I told you I was busy, what more do you want from me?” 

Mai had told me to break it off with him, he wasn’t worth crying over, he didn’t care about me, and I’d find someone who would actually make an effort with me. “Don’t be dumb, Yuna, he’s a little weasel. He’s always seemed a little bit off to me, and you can’t even deny it! You only started liking him because it felt good being with a bad boy at the time. Who knows what he’s actually doing,” Mai would warn me to break things off with him on a daily basis, but I didn’t want to give up on him. I believed I could get him back to how he was before he started to pull away from me. Nobody prepared me for what I’d actually see when I decided to follow him out that night. 

~

“Good morning, sweetheart,” I rolled over and saw Keisuke, already awake, smiling at me from the other side of the bed.

“Mmmmornn.” I definitely couldn’t be accused of being a morning person.

Keisuke chuckled, “I don’t think I know that language, but I’m going to assume you need a couple more minutes of quiet to wake up.” He pulled me closer into his chest so I took a deep breath and inhaled his scent. 

I opened one eye as if to sneakily look at him. I couldn’t get enough of him. I could smell him, but I needed to see him, touch him, taste him. Quickly forming a thought in my mind, I managed to wake myself up for my hand to start venturing lower along his body. He quickly caught on and gave me a naughty smile,

“I take it you’re awake now, hmm?” I replied with a kiss, my hand reaching its destination and making him moan into my mouth. 

My hand wrapped around his cock and started slowly pumping it. As I did that, his hips started rolling into me. His moans turned into groans and soft grunts so I decided to switch my approach. Lowering myself to his crotch, his eyes turned hungrier, his noises needier. I took his length into my mouth, eliciting a long moan from his perfectly soft lips. His hips started thrusting upwards, but only slightly, like he couldn’t help himself.

I moaned at the taste of him, sending him into another long moan from the vibrations on his sensitive tip. I bobbed my head up and down, licking along the shaft and wetting it with my spit. His hands were gripping the sheets and his eyes were squeezed shut, taking in all of the sensations. While one of my hands was on the length of his shaft I couldn’t fit into my mouth, I brought the other to my clit, slowly rubbing circles around it and using the sensation to moan around Keisuke’s cock.

He moved one of his hands behind his head and the other to grab my hair into a makeshift ponytail. I looked up and locked eyes with him.

“You look so pretty with-ah fuck-your lips around my cock I could watch you-ah-suck me forever.” He noticed where my other hand was. “Ah, I see. You enjoying yourself?” He smirked with amusement, gripping my hair tighter and pushing me to take more of him in while I sucked in my cheeks to squeeze him tighter. Now he set the pace and very soon he started moaning louder. I rubbed myself quicker now, incredibly turned on by his using my mouth how he wanted.

“Can I come into your mouth?” I could barely hear him through his panting and I had no way of replying as he was still fucking my face so I removed the hand from my clit and gave him a thumbs-up. He laughed, but quickly returned to moaning and cursing under his breath.

“Fuck your mouth is incredible I could do this all day. Good girl you’re taking me so well. Are you ready? Fuck I can’t hold on any longer-” With another tug of my hair and a loud moan he spilt down my throat and my fingers slowed down, not quite willing to stop. I flipped over onto my back and looked up at him, showing him my empty mouth. He smiled and leaned in for a kiss then dragged me back up and kissed down my front to get to where my fingers were teasing my pussy. 

Flashing his canines he went straight in to devour my needy clit and puffy lips. I let out a cry as he pushed two fingers inside of me, immediately hooking them upwards to make me arch my back in pleasure. He removed his tongue only to instruct me to grip his hair, to which I obliged right away, desperate for more friction.

As he licked lazy circles around my sensitive clit I pulled him in closer, kind of afraid he might suffocate, but he just attacked with more fervour, making me moan even louder than before,

“Yes-ah-Keisuke please I’m almost there,” I needed him so terribly and he chuckled, sending vibrations to my core, almost finishing me. 

“Cum on my tongue, pretty girl, I want to taste how good I made you feel.”

That sentence alone sent a wave of pleasure over me, I arched my back and cried out his name while he was slowing down to ease me down to earth. Once again, he wiped his face and licked my slick off, savouring every drop of me before helping me up and embracing me into a tight hug. I was enveloped in his scent, sweetness with a hint of citrus, and it felt like all my stress and overthinking just melted away.

He pulled away after a kiss on my forehead, grinned, and went to put his clothes on.

“I’m guessing you don’t have classes today?” I went to look for something to wear in my wardrobe.

“No, I have Mondays off from university and work, you?” Now that he was, sadly, dressed, he peered out of the bedroom to check if Mai was still home.

“I already messaged work I’m not coming in today.”

With that I stopped in my tracks. Was this because of me? Am I preventing him from going? Wait, does he want to stay in with me?

“Oh how come?” Somehow I managed to sound cool, calm, and collected…I hoped.

“If I hadn’t, I’d have to leave you in bed around seven to get home and get my things to make it. I’d decided I’d much rather spend time with you, if that’s okay with you, of course.” My heart skipped. I felt the biggest grin forming on my face and his face lighting up when he saw it.

“Of course, um, it’s my turn to cook today so I’ll need to pop into the shop to get a couple of things and Mai will be home around 2 and out by 3. Do you want to give me a hand cooking? You don’t have to, of course, but if you want to that would be cool. Also I have to let her know you’ll be with us, do you have any allergies or something you don’t like to eat?” I felt myself rambling and holy fuck I needed to shut up, but he was still grinning at me as if he’d love nothing more than listen to me ramble. 

“You’re so cute. I eat everything and I’ll definitely help and give it my best to not burn down the building.” He made his way to the bathroom and I followed, my hair was in dire need of brushing.

~

Yunaaaaasty, 10:12

my darling keeper of my very own sanity, for lunch we’re making you your favourite <3

Mai Darling, 10:13

My lady, whomstever doth thou meansth whensth thou saysth we?

Yunaaaaasty, 10:14

you’re giving me an aneurysm 

keisuke is staying here for a bit :| hope thats okay with you pls dont be mad mai

Mai Darling, 10:14

as long as my peppers are done and you haven’t fucked in the kitchen i’m fine 

he really likes spending time in our flat huh

don’t take it the wrong way i really don’t mind, i’m just…noticing things

Yunaaaaasty, 10:16

noticing things, my queen?

Mai Darling, 10:16

don’t you worry your pretty little head with that ;) you have enough worries in there for all of us

i’m just saying he’s trying to spend time with you i think that’s cute

continue with my lunch now, servants!

Yunaaaaasty, 10:17

certainly, your highness *bows, scrapes ground with head, disintegrates into ground*

~

On our way to the shop, I noticed Keisuke battling with himself whether or not reach for my hand so I made it easier for him by entangling our fingers and smiling at him. He stopped in the middle of his sentence, as if shocked by my action, and continued with a slight stammer.

On the way back he decided to take my hand himself, but he was reduced to giggles when I used his hand to drag him closer to me and kiss his cheek. It felt good being out with him, being seen and not hidden like some kind of a shameful secret. Maybe it wouldn’t be catastrophic, being with Keisuke. 

“Have I told you how pretty you are?” I interrupted his thoughts, he snapped his head towards me and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times as if unsure how to start.

“I…I mean you said something like that when we met, but uhhh where’s this coming from?”

“I was just thinking out loud. I like being seen with you. Like this,” I lifted our hands, fingers threaded together, “and not feeling like you’re ashamed of me or whatever.”

“What? Has this happened to you before? Because if someone was ashamed to be seen with you, then they’re a moron of epic proportions.” He brought my hand to his lips and gave it a soft kiss, “If we were together, I’d shout it from the rooftops. I’d become so insufferable that everybody would roll their eyes whenever I mention you.” He was so ecstatic about it that I just had to giggle at him.

Back in the kitchen, I put on my apron adorned with Mai’s and my faces - it had been a birthday present from her not long after we moved in together. Keisuke rolled up his sleeves and started chopping red and orange peppers while I seasoned chicken and popped it into the oven. He had already diced the onion because I mentioned nothing stopped from me crying when I did it. When we threw it all into the pan, I got the seasoning out and Keisuke just stared at me from the other end of the kitchen.

“What is it?” I said with a smile.

“Being here and doing mundane things with you feels so natural.”

I couldn’t help but imagine a reality where this was the norm. Walking together, holding hands, cooking lunch, just existing in the same room and talking. I grabbed my wooden spoon and mixed the peppers and onion, adding herbs and garlic. I took out a tablespoon to taste it and grabbed a spoonful for Keisuke to try. He nodded approvingly,

“This is that dish you said you make often? Fucking incredible.” I grinned, put the cooked rice into the pot and mixed it all together.

By the time the chicken was finished in the oven, Mai barged in, groaning and throwing her bag on the chair before face-planting the couch.

“I hate her so muuuuuuch! She knows I don’t read and she still won’t cut me some slack when it comes to assigned reading. I don’t know how many times I have to spell it out for her that I’m fucking D - Y - L - S - E - X - Y - C!”

I had to smack Keisuke’s chest to stop him from snickering.

“My darling,” I went to check on her, “you do know that’s not how you spell dyslexic, right?”

She lifted her head off the pillow and blew a strand of hair out of her face, “Well that’s how I spell it.”

I patted her head and motioned her to come to the kitchen where I plated up our food and brought it to the table with Keisuke’s help. 

“And is your brother older or younger than you?” I wondered.

After we finished lunch, Mai grumbled away into her bedroom and got ready for work while Keisuke and I washed up and put away leftover rice. We still had a good few hours before he had to go home to make dinner for him and his brother so I suggested we go for a walk.

This time holding hands felt natural, and every time we passed someone I knew I didn’t feel like I had to let go and hide. He told me about his coursework, how he had always known he wanted to be a vet, about his favourite things, and his childhood friends. 

“Well, he’s not actually my brother, but he may as well be. We’ve been friends since we were in school. Funny story, actually,” He chuckled to himself, “He wanted to bully me but I ended up saving him from getting beaten up. You’re gonna have to meet him one day soon.”

I stopped in my tracks. He wanted to introduce me to his best friend/brother?

“No, not at all. I’m actually looking forward to meeting him.”

He looked at me, worry in his face, “Something wrong?”

I shook my head, trying not to show I was tearing up,

“You’re so weird, did you know?” He pulled me closer for a kiss. In public? In front of people!

Our kiss got broken up by a bicycle bell so we fled out of the way and just kept walking around. When we passed my university building I pointed it out.

“Looks like a prison, sorry,” Keisuke noted.

“Sometimes it feels like one, too. I need to get something from the library though, wanna come with?” He joined me inside, perusing the shelves of different sections in the library, while I went to the linguistics section to get a massive tome I needed for my next paper. On the way back home he offered to carry it for me when he saw the sheer size of the book. 

“Not gonna lie, Kei, you look really hot with a book in your hand.” His raised eyebrow made me giggle.

“Kei? I like that. I’ll start carrying a book with me at all times.” His hair was shining in the sun and I was overwhelmed by the need to run my fingers through it. Get it together, Yuna. 

I ended up recounting how I had met Mai, how she essentially ‘adopted’ me when she realised I was revising for the same midterm she had to take and she could listen to me revise instead of suffering through her own notes. Then we very quickly became best friends and I asked her if she wanted to move in with me since I had a free room in my flat.

“You own the place then?” Keisuke asked. This story always made me sad.

“Yeah, it was my grandma’s, but she died just before I started university and she left it to me, fully paid off, and she left me a savings account for my tuition. Technically I’m only working to cover my spending money and pay for food.” He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and caressed my cheek.

“Sorry to hear about your grandma.” I smiled at him, now approaching the front door. 

As I was struggling to find the apartment key in the sea of keychains, Keisuke started nibbling on my neck, “Hmm this feels kind of familiar, don’t you think?”

I hurried with the keys and pulled him behind me, heading straight into my room and starting to take off my clothes. His mouth was pulled into a devilish grin, canines poking out, making him look like a vampire, and he took his shirt off before pulling his hair back and attacking my neck again.

~

While we were lying entangled I couldn’t help but overthink the situation. I could feel myself digging the hole of obsession deeper by the minute, which is something I had told myself wouldn’t happen again. But, that said, this didn’t feel like last time.

Keisuke opened his eyes and nearly startled me when he spoke. “You look sad.”

Last time I jumped into a relationship without weighing out my options, just because I liked the look of him and he charmed me into thinking he’d stay like he had been that first week. Then I ended up spending six months constantly wondering where he was, and, on the rare occasions he actually spent time with me, being hidden from the eyes of anyone else.

We’d never held hands or hugged in public. He’d never introduced me to his friends or family. Then he’d said he was just keeping me around for sex and my whole self-worth collapsed. 

Not a question. I didn’t want to bother him with my problems, but it was like he had a sixth sense for it.

“Did you forget what I said to you last night? I want to be with you, and that means taking on a portion of your sadness as well as making you cum daily. Let me help you.”

His usual goofiness is gone, replaced by a serious tone, seeing directly into my soul with his intense eyes. He moved one hand to my hip and started caressing me. 

“I was just overthinking things. I know, I know, when do I not?” With a sigh, I continued.

“I wasn’t allowed to express myself in the last relationship. I’m still trying to learn how to communicate with a partner because I didn’t get that before. That’s why I’m so conflicted because I was drawn to you from the start, but the past experience says it only leads to a catastrophe.” I felt the need to shut my mouth immediately. I’d said too much and laid out my emotions too soon.

My mind was racing, but I’d decided. “I think it’s too soon to say, but there’s another Emo Nite event in 11 days and that might be a good day to decide.” 

Keisuke touched my face, looking deep into my eyes.

“Funny you said that, I also felt drawn to you when I first saw you. I was rude to you to try and stop myself from acting on that feeling, but it clearly didn’t work.” He gestured at us lying in each other’s arms. “But I’m glad this happened because now I can show you how a real man treats his partner. What the actual fuck was this guy’s problem? You’re so smart, kind, funny, and interesting, I can’t wait to hear every next word from your mouth. I really hope you give me a chance to show you how serious I am about all of it.”

“Sounds like a date. Gives me time to talk to my friends and get them to come with me again. Apparently they had a decent time after I left.” 

“Does that mean I could meet them then?”

He leaned in to kiss me and chuckled, “Sweetheart, you’re meeting them way sooner than that.”

~

With a million kisses to go and no firm plan on when we’ll see each other next, I saw him to the door and said goodbye. It hadn’t been five minutes before I got a message from him.

Keisuke, 18:32

I can smell you on my clothes. It’s making me smile in public. c:

Yuna🖤💙, 18:33

thats funny because we spent most of the time with no clothes on

but i can smell you on my pillow and im just gonna sit here and snuggle it for a while

Keisuke, 18:33

That’s probably the lamest thing I’ve ever heard.

Please keep it up.

I’ll give you my hoodie or something next time.

Yuna🖤💙, 18:34

PROMISE?!

Keisuke, 18:34

Woah eager beaver C;

Yeah of course. Seeing you in my clothes might send me to a hospital, but I bet it would be worth it. c;

Yuna🖤💙, 18:35

if you get a heart attack whos gonna eat me out until i cry from overstimulation??????

Boyfriend Material🧛🏻, 18:36

Hey I’m hospitalised, not dead!

Yuna🖤💙,18:36

youre ridiculous. let me know when you get home safe <3

Boyfriend Material🧛🏻, 18:37

How cute, she’s worried about me c;

~

Yuna-chan, 19:03

i spent the past 22 hours with him 

hes sooooo not like any asshole from before

like

he held my hand when we walked

he kissed me in front of the library?!?!?!!?

he asks me stuff about me

chat is this real??? 

Hana-chan, 19:05

Dibs on picking bridesmaid dresses :)

Seriously though Yuna Im so happy for you

He sounds really nice

I expect an in-depth report on Sunday :D

And I want to see both of you at the event next Friday ;)

Yuna-chan, 19:10

thank you hana i couldnt have done this without you

seriously

[1 image attachment]

HE TOOK A POLAROID OF ME FROM THE FRIDGE!

Hana-chan, 19:12

Thank fuck it wasn’t a pair of panties hahah

That’s kinda cute ngl

You have one of him he has one of you.

Yuna-chan, 19:15

i’m smiling uncontrollably ??????? can’t stop send help

btw you got homework done for tomorrow?

~

After a few more hours of general upkeep of the apartment, texting with Hana and Keisuke, and sniffing the pillow whenever I walked into my bedroom, Mai arrived home from work and headed straight into the kitchen for leftovers. We sat at the kitchen table, catching up, when she pulled out a bag of popcorn from her bag, along with a couple of pots full of nacho cheese dip.

With a grin, we switched to the living room and put on our favourite show to rewatch, snacking on the loot from the cinema. 

#baji keisuke #keisuke baji #fanfic #baji x oc #fanfiction #writing #baji fanfic #baji x reader #tokyo revengers fanfic #wip fic #keisuke baji x you #keisuke baji x reader #baji keisuke x reader #tokyo revengers baji #baji #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fic #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers manga #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x y/n #keisuke baji fluff #baji fluff #baji keisuke smut #baji keisuke fluff #baji smut #keisuke baji smut #whatdoidosatoru

[catiuskaa]

new task: valentine’s day (ACTS)

A/N: reposting by acts! [see full version here]. wanted to see if this format works better (and yes i will squeeze everything in this one right here cause its amazing and i 100% worked my ass off on it)

PAIRING! seungmin x reader ; enemies/rivals2lovers!

SUMMARY: boring classes, boring classmates, boring assignments…to seungmin, everyone is boring even if he’s used to pretend otherwise, but you seem to get on his nerves. you, your stupid poem, and his stupid letter.

WC: 3.150k

CW: fluffy comfort, use of spanglish (not relevant to the plot, dw), use of text format, the reader is stupidly short (which i know all about), academic rivals, bad student reader x good student seungmin, mentions of the unability to deal with complicated feelings, mentions of masking feelings, slight hint of bullying, mentions of being followed, (pet)names: little one, shortie, shortcake, smallable, pretty, hyunjin as a walking therapist, and the ending is kind of a reference to a show i'm obsessed with (not gonna say it so i don't spoil it for you guys hehehe)

|PROLOGUE| |ACT 1| |ACT 2| |ACT 3|

[☆★🌷★☆]

{ACT 1: NOT A LOVEFOOL… YET}

To be in the same class group than him was slightly tolerable.

Is what you’d like to say if you were in a good mood. But it wasn’t the case.

You were mad. As fuck.

“I just need you to give it a chance,” Miss Fernández stated once more, and you had to hold back to not roll your eyes at her.

“But Miss. I know that this subject is difficult and that he could, uh, help me out with the project,” you muttered reluctantly, because on normal circumstances, you wouldn’t go as far as to let Kim Seungmin help you with chemistry. Not ever.

You weren’t in need of help that desperatly.

And that was a fact, not a matter of ifs, buts, or maybes. That was an absolute. Something that lovely-yet-not-so-much teacher Lucía Fernández, spanish accent and all, was not getting.

“Listen. We both know that your grade is the best I can offer considering your behaviour in my class, despite of your average knowledge of the subject. And in this case, I am offering to set that aside if you work on these following assignments with your classmate Seungmin.”

Her harsh tone was also an absolute, and that made you clench your jaw. You blamed Lucas for her attitude towards you —after all, that one accident with a Bunsen Burner had been mostly his fault—, but you breathed in, trying to offer your most pity-inducing grin.

Judging by her glare, it wasn’t working.

“Miss, I—”

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t look like she was. “It’s my last word. And I think that after coming three days to my office on each of your free periods, this is getting a bit tiring.” She sighed, adjusting her glasses by a soft push of her finger.

Nope. She definetely wasn’t sorry.

Witholding a groan you left her office, and huffed as the door closed behind you, swiftly heading to meet your group of friends when they got out of their Biology lesson in other building within the school grounds.

It was a chilly evening, maybe not too much from what one could expect for the first week of February, still one that made you hide your face in your scarf and you hands in your jacket pockets.

You settled your headphones where they belonged, humming to the music to hold back the need to rant and rave against your chemistry teacher, when your phone dinged.

< henry li🫧: everything ok? saw you in lucifer’s office rn

< henry li🫧: did you do smth again? you cheekyyy 🙊

You gingerly laughed, and started typing out your answer, when, out of nowhere, you bumped against someone, making all of the books that they were carrying fall down of their grasp.

You pursed your lips, then pressed them in a thin line. Staring at their— his back, you saw that his backpack was almost empty. Why the fuck would he carry all of his books on his hands then?

The guy had quickly bent down to get his books back, and you followed too, taking your headphones off and quickly trying to prevent the papers from getting wet because of the floor, that was damp from the rain before, when your hands softly brushed against each other, still, you forced yourself to ignore it.

“I’m so…” the word dissapeared in your mouth.

“It’s ok, don’t… oh.” He blinked, his face showing nothing. For fuck’s sake.

Why did it always have to be him?

He swiftly took all of the things from you, as if your touch could be worse than the wet floor. You frowned, feeling a cold shiver trail up your spine, and you crossed your arms in front of you, struggling to seek some warmth.

“Watch it, little one.” He mocked with a light smirk. “I might accidentally step on you one day.”

You looked at him through your eyelashes. What. An. Idiot. You passed a hand through your hair, chuckling dryly.

“I-,” you sighed, shaking your head sideways. “Nah, you know what? I don’t have time for this crap.” You smiled at him widely, full of sarcasm.

But just when you were about to leave, you felt a tug at your sleeve, the fabric of your shirt not thick enough to hide the warmth of Seungmin’s grasp on your forearm. You frowned, confused at the lack of any uncomfortable feelings because of it. There was none, but rather a need to cover yourself with it and wear it like a jacket.

“Did you fix it?”

You blinked, trying to get your brain to focus on his words.

“Huh?”

He rolled his eyes, but his hand didn’t move an inch. “You said you were going to talk to Miss Fernández so we wouldn’t be partners, which is, well, so mature, congratulations,” he tsked, but then continued. “But did it work?”

You licked your lips and swallowed, your throat feeling dry. What was going on? You needed to focus.

In a harsh motion, you moved your arm away from his grasp. You forced yourself to ignore how your skin missed it.

“I… no. She settled. You- I mean… we…” the word felt awkward when it rolled off your tongue.

We? There was no such thing in between Seungmin and you. No we, no us, no nothing. And it was like that for a reason. One that you had almost forgotten with how softly his slender and warm hand had been holding your forearm. Ugh.

As you struggled to say those infamous words, your phone dinged again, and you mumbled a short “oh, wait,” and unlocked it.

< henry li🫧: leaving me on read, shortcake?

Seungmin stared at your phone, shoving his hands on his pockets when he saw you smile at the bright screen. He bit his lower lip. He hadn't taken all of his stuff out of his backpack just for this.

“So,” he licked his lips, and it almost shocked you the sudden roughness on his tone and demeanour. “Chemistry is easy. We can meet up on Friday in the public library. An hour or two should be enough, even for someone with a fun-sized brain like yours.” He chuckled meanly, the motherfucker.

Ever since that stupid text from him, you had made it your mission to surpass him, or at least reach his level, and to be honest, you were even succeding in some cases, like philosophy, art history, spanish, technical drawing and business studies. But Chemistry?

Chemistry would always kick you in the ass.

Before you were able to come up with a comeback for his stupid snicker, the bell rang, and you felt an arm laying its weight on your shoulders.

“Smallable!” Lucas laughed, then realized that you were talking to a certain someone and ful Ty ly gasped. “Oh my god. Are you two finally dating and I interrupted— AH!” He was interrupted by your elbow hitting his side. Noa and Atenea chuckled behind him.

“No. Seungmin was just leaving.” You huffed with a frown, but then you smiled, almost excessively, like a small maniac. “Right?”

But before he was able to reply or mock you, Atenea spoke, ruining your chances of kicking him away.

“But we all have English now,” she said, and if it had been someone else, like Lucas, you would’ve stepped on his shoe or something. “We’re going to the same place, we can go together.”

Seungmin felt you stare intensively at him. He smiled at Atenea, finding that he enjoyed having you look at him, reason why he loved annoying the shit out of you.

“Sure!” He smiled politely, almost sheepishly, and you bit your lip to hold back the need to scoff at his 'obviously fake' kindness.

Because except for you, the rest of your class —heck, probably the rest of the school— were smitten with Kim Seungmin.

Top of the class, funny, kind, and cutely introverted Kim Seungmin was just a dorky student who tried to get along with everyone.

But that was wrong. And you may not have any proof aside from his mean attitude towards you and only you, but you knew it.

Seungmin had to be more than just a pretty boy with high grades, and it was only with you that he proved you right.

You stayed next to Lucas, hoping that Seungmin would at least stay with your friends and ignore you.

But to your horror, he smiled at you, a pink dust on his cheeks. “If you don’t mind?”

Oh, son of a bitch.

“No… it’s whatever.” You huffed.

Because against his dorky self, to the rest of your class —heck, to the rest of the school— you were the quote on quote “bad student.”

Troublesome, mean, class clown? Check. You laughed at teachers in class with Lucas far more than what could be ignored, the dresscode had always been more of a guide in what to wear, unlike what most students usually followed, and you may have been expelled a bunch of times.

Even if you were somewhat kind to the people in school, and even if they all knew your rivalry with Seungmin, God forbid you were mean to him.

You wouldn’t see the end of it.

And he knew it.

Bitch.

So there you were, walking to English class with your friends plus innocent Seungmin —who no one had called, not even the ghostbusters—, who was snickering and giggling with Atenea about who-gives-a-shit. Something class-related. You couldn’t be bothered to listen.

Lucas chuckled next to you.

“Careful, Spongebob.” He laughed. “Some could say you seem jealous.”

…WHAT?!

“Of… of Kim Seungmin?” You snorted. “Are you on drugs?”

He ruffled your hair. “Sure, sure, keep lying to yourself, shortie.”

Finally, you arrived to class, but before you stepped inside, Seungmin stopped you, whispering in your ear.

“Yeah, shortie.” He teased, his lips almost grazing the shell of your ear. “Don’t be too jealous. We wouldn’t want everyone to know you love me.”

His whisper would’ve been almost enticing if it weren’t for the fact that it was Kim Seungmin the man in question, and he snickered, pushing his glasses back.

But then someone cleared his throat behind you two.

“Care to sit down? I don’t have all day.” Mister Holmes grunted, carrying a monster drink and a coffe at the same time.

That mas was slightly terryifing.

You squinted at Seungmin and then walked to your place at the back of the class, hoping that your cheeks felt warm because of how the teacher had startled you and definetely not your classmate’s honey-like voice.

“Pssst. Heeey,” Noa smiled teasingly, whispering with a smirk. “Pssst. You’re blushing…!”

“Shut up!” You frowned at her, but you were unable to hold back a smile. But it was because of your friend Noa. Not Kim Seungmin.

Mr Holmes cleared his throat, and finished off his monster, throwing it to the bin.

“So. I’ve been hearing from some students in the hallways that you’re all excited for saint valentines’ day.” He stated in a strong voice, one that filled the class with little to no effort. “And sadly so, I was thinking of putting an exam that Wednesday…” he faked a sigh, and you had to hold back a laugh, contrary to the frowns and groans that appeared in your classmates faces. Pfft, what a character. “Unless… you guys want to do something in true valentines fashion.”

Mr Holmes crossed his arms, laying back on his chair, his stare cold and face lacking any kind of emotions.

“Say… any ideas, Mr… Kim?”

Seungmin sat up straight at his name being mentioned, and you rolled your eyes, holding back a mocking smirk.

“I ugh… I wouldn’t want to bother my classmates with a lot of work, sir… but maybe… maybe a writing assingment related to the topic would be… enough?” Seungmin stated, his tone soft and shy, and there was even a blush that trailed up from his neck, but he stayed staight and firm as he spoke.

“A valentine-themed task.” Mr Holmes enunciated as he pondered. “It’s a… decent idea. Any complaints?”

You felt some of your classmates’ eyes on you, and you sighed, crossing your arms in front of you, remaining silent. As long as it wasn’t an exam, you’d accept whatever.

“With that settled, I’ll upload the task online this afternoon, but it’ll have to be written by hand. Be sure to hand in a picture of your assignment on time, or your final grade will be affected.” The teacher turned on his laptop, and started taking assistance.

[☆★🌷★☆]

Time had passed dreadfully slowly, until the bell rang and Mr Holmes dissmissed all of you so everyone could leave for the day.

“A valentine-themed task.” You huffed in annoyance as you stuffed your locker with books you weren’t going to take home.

“I thought it was original.” A voice snickered lowly behind you, and you slapped your locker close, smiling at him.

“Well, Henry. It’s no surprise your taste sucks.”

You chuckled when he rolled his eyes.

“I was waiting for your reply,” he mentioned with a soft tone.

You closed your locker, and you two started walking together. “Oh, sorry, I totally forgot,” you apologized with a smile, but he brushed it off. “Yeah, I was with Lucifer earlier. She’s making me work with Seungmin for this term’s assignments.”

Henry frowned. “And we hate that guy… right…” you chuckled.

“Exactly. We don’t like him.”

“So then, don’t do it. You were going to meet him to study, right?” You nodded, smirking slightly at him.

“We agreeded to meet on Friday to start, in the library.” You added, watching his smirk widen. “What are you thinking?”

He stopped walking, smiling at you. “There’s this club that opened recently. Been wanting to go have a look. Apparently, it’s like exclusive and shit. And it’s Friday.” His light-coloured eyes shined as he looked at you. “Meet me there?”

You grinned cheekily.

“Sure. Can’t wait.”

[☆★🌷★☆]

You hadn’t noticed Seungmin on the school bus until this year.

Because he had made himself noticeable, sitting at the back of the bus, a couple seats away from you, but oh, dorky Seungmin was always friend of everyone, sheepishly starting conversation with any kinds of people in the bus, no matter the year they were in.

Before his text, you had even thought he was cute as he gingerly chatted with a group of kids who were probably starting high school.

“Is it too difficult?” A little girl asked.

And it surprised you how he turned to her and smiled, almost tugging at your heart strings, eyes like crescent moons.

“It’s only difficult if you stop trying. And we don’t give up, right?” He stated cheerfuly, and all the kids shined at his sheepish and bashful brightness, high-fiving the girl that talked to him.

You forced yourself to shove those memories to the back of your mind. That Seungmin wasn’t real. And you didn’t like him. The real him. Right?

“Oi, Kim Seungmin.” You called, as it was only you two left on the bus.

He was surprised at your call, but only side-eyed at you, lazily raising his brows, signalling that he was listening. You frowned.

See? You thought to yourself. He’s mean. He isn’t sweet, nor cute. Focus.

“What kind of lame ass idea was that?” You huffed with a mean smile. “A valentine-themed assignment.” You snorted.

His bus stop was close, so he ignored you as he picked up his coat and backpack, but you kept on talking. “You know? Hallmark office called, they want their boring clichés back,” you mocked, laughing.

Backpack on and coat hanging on his arm, he stared at you, and waited for a red light to walk to your seat.

He settled next to you, still staring at you as you chimed mean remarks about his originality and such and such.

“Anything else to mumble? I couldn’t hear you from down there.” He snorted meanly, and you were too focused on annoying him that you didn’t notice his stare at your lips as he licked his own.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a lame guy. He gave you the chance to choose, and you chose that piece of—?!”

His lips tasted as sweet as his voice that day with those little kids.

You felt his hand slowly creep up and cradle your face, his eyes closed as he kissed you, and slowly, your eyes closed too.

It was sweet. So sweet. But what was it? It was a flavour that you knew. Its sweetness was so familiar, but you couldn’t seem to figure out what was it.

You kissed him back, and he let out a surprised whine as you sighed, your hands, which had been frozen on his shoulders, waiting for your order to push him away, slowly followed up and remained on his face, your thumbs almost stroking his cheeks.

You wanted needed to know what he tasted like.

But it was when your hands went into his hair that he sighed too, melting under your touch, that your brain clicked.

…

what were you doing?

…

WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!

You pushed him away, and your breath hitched.

He didn’t look like fake Seungmin.

In front of you was not the innocent boy who had straight A’s and was shy enough to not be able to say no to a lot of things, who sheepishly spoke up in class, or who treated everyone with a bashful kindness that was so endearing.

This Seungmin was different. His glasses had a bit of a fog in them, his hair was all messed up, and his lips were plush, pink from your tinted gloss and slightly swollen from your kiss.

This Seungmin was a wreck, all flustered and kissable, and he looked like a mess.

But it felt real.

And for a second, you wanted to kiss him again, yearning to figure what that kiss tasted like, the word for it almost in the tip of your tongue.

He panted, struggling to catch his breath.

“Finally,” he huffed with a smile, but his dark eyes didn’t match the mocking in his tone. A small part of your mind thought that they looked prettier than any light eyes you had ever seen. “So you were able to shut up, after all.” He gulped, still panting.

He moved away from you slowly, as you remained there, frozen, like a piece of art in front of him, cheeks blushed, lips flushed and parted as your eyes stared at him, an emotion much different from this evening.

He found himself enjoying this one even more.

“Eh… T-this is my bus stop.” He muttered when the bus stopped. Maybe it wasn’t, but he didn’t care. He felt like he would have the energy to run home if needed. “I-I’ll… see you tomorrow.”

You blinked as he stood up and walked away.

What…

What had just happened?

[☆★🌷★☆]

#stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #soft hours #kim seungmin x reader #skz seungmin #seungmin fluff #kim seungmin fluff #skz headcanons #skz x reader #seungmin skz #kim seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin headcanons #kim seungmin fic #kim seungmin #skz soft thoughts #skz imagines #skz fics #skz fanfic #skz fluff

[trials-era-sam]

Gonna get chick-flick-momenty for a minute if you don’t mind!!!!!

In 2018 I told myself, “it’s already season 13, the show is bound to end sooner or later and I’ve already been watching this show and been obsessed with it for almost 10 years, I HAVE to meet Jared this year.” I got incredibly lucky that this was the one and only year Creation decided to host a con in Birmingham, UK, a city I’d already been to and felt comfortable going to on my own (unlike Rome haha) and that very first con was AMAZING. Had a great photo op with Jared - but most of all, got to meet my amazing friend @malnourishedsamdean who became my convention buddy. We’ve now gone to three more cons together, only one of which Jared did not cancel - whether he was there or not though, he may be our fave but we had tons of fun and made up for it by meeting more of the cast!!!! - and it would have been four had I not made stupid financial decisions, but oh well. I’ll always treasure these memories with C and hope to make more, and we also met some amazing people there!!!!

Then last year I went to my first JIBcon, finally confident enough to do it having been to Rome in the meantime, but mostly confident because I was going with the wonderful @schielegon and had SUCH a fun time ♥️♥️♥️ the events were incredibly fun (especially a meet and greet where Jared gave me the very last question 🥰) BUT the highlight was definitely meeting this gal I just tagged as well as @ghost-go-roasty-mctoasty , @arwenadreamer , @takikojou and other lovely people <333

There was also that one con that C and I booked on my 28th birthday and only got to go when I was 31, but I don’t think I need to explain why, no one needs the reminder lol. It was SO worth the wait - especially because our beloved @jellybracelet got to come with us <3333

JIB was so amazing I nagged her and @seanwinchester to come this year, and we just had the most wonderful, wonderful weekend because these guys are the most fun, and met more lovely people 🥰🥰 can’t even put it into words because of the sleep deprivation but I’m still floating on that high!!!!

And now that I’ve told my life story as if I was a fan asking Jared and/or Jensen a question,

TL;DR - I feel so, so incredibly lucky and happy. I really hope this doesn’t come across as braggy and I’m sorry if it does - I genuinely, genuinely want everyone to experience stuff like this. It’s the absolute best. I don’t think another show would have provided me with the happiness, the memories and the FRIENDS this show has. I’m so grateful to all of you and also to the cast who will never read this ♥️♥️♥️♥️ they say never to meet your heroes but my interactions with Jared have been so great, he really is as kind and funny and sunshiny as he seems (yes I know I am parasocializing hard idc) and, as I don’t think I’m stopping cons now because they’re so addicting (HOW HAVE I ALREADY BEEN TO SIX. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ONE), I’m so excited to meet more of you in the future <33333 I love you all so so so so much this is the best community ever!!!!!!!!!

Also now that it’s on yt for everyone to see and while I’m pouring my heart out, hi! I’m Anaëlle. Please continue to call me Ana <33 but know that I freaked out hard when Danneel’s character had my name in the show lmao

#personal #long post #I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH

[ben-drowned-me]

Hello can I request some Ben drowned headcanons? Like how do you picture him to look like or act like? I am like literally obsessed with your headcanons, have a nice day/night!!‼️‼️

✧.* ben drowned headcanons

that is the sweetest compliment ever !! thank you sweetheart, i appreciate it so much<3 ben is one of my faves! i kind 'f strayed off a bit i feel but i hope you enjoy :)

he doesn't wear the hat all the time i swear

i just don't think it's all that comfortable for him to wear (why does link wear it at all??)

i know canon he's pictured as majoras mask link but i picture him more hyrule warriors link

his hair is a bit more ashy though, not like a super-pigmented blonde

only wears the outfit while on hunts, does NOT clean it either

probably sticks w green colours but also stupid graphic tees (see; jesse pinkman outfits)

eyes don't consistently bleed but like atp its stained there

i mean he could wash his face but.. will he??

with all of them, they can have pretty violent mood changes but i think honestly ben is on the more mellow side

yes he's been through some shit, but he's had a lot of time to come to terms with it (barely aging does that to 'ya)

i think he like ages super slow btw so he's not like 8 forever lolz

but on average he's pretty decent with emotions n shit

still has bad days but handles it better than some of the others do

bad nightmares tho which he does not handle well

very observant, always looking out for people

more of a show not tell guy?? if he notices that someone hasn't eaten then he'll hand them smth silently yk?

enjoys quality time with people

rage quits games sorry i dont make the rules 

then hacks the other peoples' devices cause he's mad

menace.

pranks everyone even if he knows he'll get his ass beat

everybody's little brother

all in all is an absolute sweetheart who is also a jackass!!

#creepypasta x reader #ben drowned #creepypasta #creepypasta blog #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta hc #ben drowned hc

[hatsunevitu]

au about kyman entering the same university somewhere far away from south park, where not a single person knows what kind of reputation cartman had back in his native town.

so cartman decides it’s a chance for him to replay the game and change the way he is treated.

he acts nice, he makes wise decisions, he makes friends with those who can help him in future, he doesn’t break a single law and studies hard, he becomes a perfect version of eric cartman. and everyone falls for it, because he seems absolutely cool, funny and charismatic to them.

the only person who’s not buying it is kyle, who decides it’s his moral obligation to “expose” the true nature of eric cartman, so he tries to sabotage him in any way but fails every time eventually humiliating himself. by the end of the first term even the professors know that kyle broflovski is obsessed with fighting with cartman and most people assume that he’s either a simple fatphobic bully or is in love with cartman.

by that time kyle is considered to be a loser and is pretty much avoided by most of his peers meanwhile cartman is surrounded by people who love and admire him. so it happens that cartman is the only friend kyle’s got now hehe.

the whole first half of an au is basically kyle who’s trying to set cartman up so he can reveal his “evil side” but he ends up as an unbelievable piece of shit himself.

and kyle is pissed because how can’t anyone see the truth??

he complains about it to cartman because he doesnt have anyone else.

cartman, meeting kyle in the morning: Hey, so how will you try to set me up this time?

kyle: I am not “setting anyone up”. I simply want people to know the truth about who you really are.

cartman: Seem kinda obsessed with me, huh, Kahl?

kyle: Do not provoke me, Cartman.

cartman: I am not. Just… what’s the truth, tell me? Who am I, then? I seem to have forgotten it since everyone here thinks I’m great.

kyle, raising his voice: You’re an unbelievably psychotic fat ugly piece of shit and you do not deserve what you get, that’s who you are, you hear me, asshole?!

everyone in the class: …Woah, Broflovski. Nice job, jerk, now you made him upset. What’s even wrong with you?

cartman, raising voice so everyone hears him: Wow, Kyle, I guess you really haven’t changed since high school. And I was stupid enough to hope we could be friends here…

kyle, confused: Wait, that is not what… That’s… Fuck!! You planned it since the beginning, didn’t you?

imagine kyle who was DREAMING about his university life? he thought he’d be noticed because of how smart he is, he thought girls would love him because he’s intelligent and nice, he thought everything would be different. but instead his life was once again about cartman – and he couldn’t forgive him for ruining his life of dream.

kyle: Why on Earth would you do this? It was supposed to be the best year of my life, but you just had to show up and ruin everything!

cartman: I ruined everything?

kyle: Yes, you did! Why else would you go to the same university?!

cartman: I’m sorry, Kyle, I don’t quite get it. You think I went to this university just because of you? How highly do you think of yourself?

kyle: Why not? You’ve been obsessed with me the whole time!

cartman: I’m obsessed? Isn’t it you who devotes all his time in his first year of university trying to set me up? Tell me about being obsessed, Kyle!

kyle: What’s that supposed to mean?

cartman: I came here, to the university as far from South Park as possible, to start a new fucking page of my life without prejudice. Have you seen a single person here who would refer to me as “fatass” except for you?

kyle: Oh, don’t even start it with “fatphobic” shit, you can’t possibly be offended by this, that was just friendly bantering!

cartman: Was it? Was it, Kyle?

kyle: Well–

cartman: And even now that I’m here you still can’t let it go. You still can’t accept the tiny possibility that I might’ve changed. So you just have to go there and shout “hey, everyone, he’s a piece of shit, you should hate him with me”. Does that help your self-esteem?

kyle: I… ugh, I didn’t think it was like that…

cartman: I know you didn’t.

#ive come up with this au while sleeping #fucking kyman #rotting my brain #also i truly believe kyle wouldnt miss the opportunity to ruin cartmans reputation #he just sees people liking cartman and he just feels like he MUST go and tell them how shitty cartman is #tell him about being obsessed kyle #south park #sp #eric cartman #kyman #sp kyman #kyle broflovski #kyle x cartman #cartman x kyle #kyman headcanon #sp cartman #sp kyle

[madaboutmunson]

sad-rockstar-Steve x tour-photographer-Eddie

Little idea I had and decided to write it

"I do NOT want this assignment, Marney!" Eddie pushes the flimsy file back over to his agent. He already knows what's inside. It shows up at least once a year, which was a relief comparing it to how frequent the request used to be.

"Eddie, baby, hear me out. It’s not an assignment. It is a project. It could get you back on the radar. It's not even a tour, really, it's a residency, and his team have already provided you with a list of shots he wants for the book. It's pose, point and shoot, Ed. Easy money." She slides it back over to him, keeping her fingers on top of it firmly, drumming her bright red talons on the card as she looks him right in the eyes, "and it's not like the gigs have been rolling in for you, now have they, sweetheart? Other than the family portrait business that I know you absolutely adore!" She smirks and holds his gaze. Using his favourite pet name against him makes his blood boil, but he isn't angry with her. It was Him.

"Gigs drying up for us is not my fault! The last client wanted all candid behind-the-scenes shots. I provided that. I edited them, barely, because they wanted the realism of life on the road, and they ok'd them. It's not my fault the internet is a cruel, unforgiving place!” Eddie exclaims in annoyance, “Especially when it’s full of Harronites, or whatever those lunatics call themselves." Eddie mumbles under his breath.

She raises her eyebrow at him, "He asked for you specifically." She says, and flicks open the folder revealing an old photo Eddie had taken of Rock Phenom Steve Harrington at one of his shows. He didn’t know what was so special about the picture. He’d taken this shot hundreds of times for artists. It's on a list of shots they can ask for. The artist climbs the barrier, and the hands of the fans reach up to them like worshipers praising their false idol. Eddie waves his hand, and the artist looks straight down the lens. It's supposed to be a duality of intimacy. The solid eye contact with the camera whilst in the arms of strangers, eager to reach out and touch their obsession which none of them would ever possess. Lest of all, that guy. 

What a piece of work. Ruined Eddie’s career and, damn, near ruined his life! 

"He says," she balances her reading glasses on the tip of her button nose and pulls the sticky note from the photo, "no one captures his truth like Eddie Munson." She flips over the message so Eddie can see, “Signed it too. Could be worth something?”

"I've never even spoken to the guy. Why's he so obsessed with me?" Eddie whines, and his agent shrugs.

"Does it matter, Ed? There are a lot more zeros here than we'd see normally."

"Something seems off about this. I don't like it."

"You like his stuff, don't you?"

"Did! I did like his stuff until I published that stupid photo. He's been on my case ever since."

"Not flattered, Eddie?" She laughs

"At first, sure. Until his demands started rolling in, and his fans started giving me grief for declining them. They called me washed up! I hadn't even begun! I thought that picture was gonna be my big break! It went viral! Remember you told me that! But it was actually my demise, Marn!" Eddie seethes, “Imagine calling up your horde of rabid fans because you couldn’t get your way!” He closes the file and folds his arms. “No fuckin’ way! I can’t post a picture of a fucking sunset without his fans all over it like a rash.”

“Then just say yes, Eddie. It can’t be any worse than it is right now.” Marney says with a kind smile of compassion. She did want what was best for him, and though it killed him to admit it, he did need that money. He was in debt up to his eyeballs, barely breaking even at the studio, and the numbers on the cheque he saw, could clear that and then some.

Eddie sighs and sinks back into his chair, “I’m gonna regret this. I know I am.” he says tensely, running his hand through his hair.

He looks up at her, and she is already back in her chair, phone in hand, finger poised over the green call button. 

At his lowest, Eddie admits defeat and nods.

#eddie munson #eddiemunson #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fan fiction #steddie #steddie fan fiction #steddie ficlet #steve harrington

[starlightsearches]

I love the idea of coworker!eddie so much! and now I'm thinking about this nerd this doofus this absolute fucking sweet dork of a man leaning over the counter in between customers and making handmade buttons for the basket by the register to sell. He's got the classic styles, you know, band logos from a variety of genres but the bulk of them lean toward metal, as well as some goofier ones with gross jokes on them. But he makes some personalized ones for you, featuring your favorite bands and pickup lines, including one that says You're my rainbow in the dark because obviously he has to slip a Ronnie James Dio reference in there

He's stupid. He's perfect. I love him.

Mixtape

Yes, god, coworker! eddie lives inside my brain like a little mouse. Here's something I threw together because I love the idea of the pins 😩 Comments, likes and reblogs make me very happy!

Eddie x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: language, mutual pining, some angst, this one's a little sad in the end but I'm sure we'll see more of them at some point (if people are interested).

"Hey, asshole."

Eddie dodges the empty cardboard box you lob his way without much effort. He's gotten way better at sidestepping your attacks since he started here. You wish you could say the same for your aim.

"You planning on doing any work today?"

Eddie has the nerve to look offended—like you haven't been running around your whole shift, restocking shit and fixing the displays and helping everyone and their mother find a copy of Whitney Houston—holding a fist to his chest like he'd been stabbed.

"That hurts, baby. I am working. See?"

He shakes the basket of pins in front of him as you lean over the counter, smiling wide. It's that fucking smile that makes so many people buy his stupid buttons—even if they've never heard his any of the artists he's obsessed with, even if they're not worth the dollar fifty you're charging for them.

You set the basket back down, swallowing the butterflies in the back of your throat. "No offense, but I think we have enough Metallica pins to last us through the end of time."

"I was actually making pins for you," he says with falsely-innocent eyes, meeting you halfway across the table, the collar of his worn-out band shirt dipping just slightly until you can see the slightest hint of another tattoo brushing his collar bone, "but if you don't want them . . . "

You hold out a hand, hoping your exasperation might distract him from your wandering eyes. "Show me."

You wish he wouldn't do this—flirt with you so much. Your crush on him was already embarrassing enough without the pins and the inside jokes and his wandering fingers pinching at your sides until you have to laugh. Sometimes you want to scream at him, tell him to stop making fun of you, that you'll get over it if he gives you enough time.

You're not sure if you could ever get over it. Not if he keeps looking at you like this.

Eddie drops the pins into your hand one at a time, tongue caught between his teeth—eyes flashing between your face and your open palm. You do your best to keep your expressions in check.

There's a few band pins—Fleetwood Mac, ABBA, even Wham!, despite all the shit he'd given you about them.

"And for the finale—" he says with a flourish, his fingers just brushing against yours when he drops the little black button into your hand.

"Rainbow in the dark?" You read the words quietly, looking up at him with furrowed brows. He's fidgeting, twisting one of the rings around his finger, biting at his lips.

"Yeah, because, uh . . ." he laughs shyly, glancing down at his hands, "you haven't- you haven't listened to that mixtape I made you?"

Your stomach sinks, and you press your lips together, shooting him a guilty look.

"Oh, come on—" he rolls his eyes at you, and you let the apologies pour out, hoping to wipe the hurt from his expression, even if it's all theatrics.

"I've been meaning to listen, Eddie," you tell him, "but it's your music is really loud and I've got neighbors and I need to get a new pair of headphones for my cassette player . . ."

None of that's true. You've started the tape multiple times, laying back on your bed with your perfectly-functioning headphones on snugly over your ears, and you just. couldn't. do. it. Listening to songs that Eddie picked for you—cute, ridiculous Eddie with his too-tight jeans and wild hair and fucking to-die-for smile—it was like carving your own heart out of your chest with a butter knife. A reminder of what you'd never have.

He stands with his back to you, hands on his hips. When he turns over his shoulder, he won't meet your eyes.

"Well," he says, tapping his knuckles against the glass countertop, "that's from one of my favorites on there. It's always kind of . . . reminded me of you."

"Oh."

You don't know what else to say.

"Anyways," he coughs, but the atmosphere stays heavy with the weight of awkwardness between you, "I guess I'll go unpack some boxes in the back. You good on your own out here?"

"Oh yeah . . . totally."

He sighs, stalking off to the backroom, leaving you with only a sick feeling in your stomach and a pile of pins in your hands.

Part 2 Here

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #my writing #gender neutral insert #harley tag 💖

[eirian]

i love how i went from obsessed with danny phantom to Very Normal about dragon ball to absolutely str8 up batshit insane about inazuma eleven

its like. ok so i was seriously obsessed with dp for a long time, if yall followed me from that u remember how i was. it was my life. i literally named myself after dan phantom, thats why my name is dan and that is my legal name to this day. but dragon ball came along and entranced me so hard i actually was completely pulled out of danny phantom despite it being such a huge thing in my life at the time. and that lasted for a few years until suddenly these children with their silly powers and a soccer ball came into my life and said "join our soccer club!" and i was like yknow? i will do that. i will join your soccer club

so inazuma eleven was so strong and good that it pulled me out of my dragon ball obsession (for the most part). i am still HEAVILY interested and in love with dragon ball--i have four db tattoos and my middle and last names are dragon ball references for crying out loud. I WEAR GOKU SHOES!!!--but like. inazuma eleven is str8 up my favorite anime. probably my favorite show in general. it SURPASSED dragon ball as an interest for me and that was a huge feat if you knew me

i swear dude like there was a point where my ENTIRE FIT, EVEN WHEN I WENT OUT IN PUBLIC, was dragon ball. literally from head to toe. hat, shirt, necklace, pants, socks, shoes, and yes, even underwear. i wore dragon ball underwear. honestly i still fucking would if i hadnt grown too fat to fit into them anymore but hey i can always buy new ones baby!!!! i was kind of embarrassing to look at, frankly!!!! like oh my god you can ask my wife and even my family i had this one shirt (i even drew myself in it a few times) that was like, raditz's armor? but you could see his cleavage a little too, it was like one of those stupid muscle shirts. and everyone around me HATED IT (i found out abt this later thankfully LOL) but it was my FAVORITE shirt. it made me SO happy to be wearing merch of my favorite blorbo at the time. and i loved it so much i didnt even register (or care i guess?) how ugly and embarrassing it was. i was blinded by love tbh

where was i going with this. erm

yeah like. dragon ball is still a big part of my life but inazuma eleven is probably more important to me now tbh. and im not complaining abt that at all

dragon ball is how i met my wife, and it shaped a lot of who i am today, but inazuma eleven is kind of something my wife and i share specifically between us and bonded over heavily and thats part of why its so important to me <:3 so. ya

sorry for another super long text post ramble abt inazuma eleven im just very feeling it tonight i guess !!!!

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

What's the point of th's supposed popularity if no one is listening to his music? He's basically an influencer at this point. The Kardashians have more ig followers than Beyonce and Taylor Swift, but they could easily lose those followers, unlike Beyonce and TS, who have the most loyal fan bases in the world. Quality over quantity, honestly.

Wdym his instagram likes don't matter???!?!?!

I think it has to do with everyone's obsession with "GP". Kths started that conversation around some grammys red carpet, I don't remember what year it was when they said "locals" kept asking if taekook were a couple. That's the first time I remember being taken aback and confused about this "gp" and "locals" validation. Then it was because he was in that kitchen show and they all went "omg gp darling this, gp darling that". And it hasn't stopped since solo era started. Do you have any idea of how tired I am of reading "gp" - take a shot everytime you go on army/solos spaces and read those letters.

Nobody cared about "gp" when BTS got all those billboard hot 100 positions and streams thanks to the huge fandom. As I've said before, BTS had a huge fandom for a while but only became somewhat "popular" (as in, random people would know about them - oh sorry, I meant precious GP would know about them) after butter or maybe my universe. Mind you, I've never in 6 years heard anyone in real life say "BTS". Literally Never. Meanwhile I just started this new job a month ago and I've already heard 3 different groups of people of all ages talk about Taylor. I've got students umproptly coming up to me and say "Miss, I've been listening to Taylor Swift songs to practice my English".

You'll see.. kpop fans are stereotyped as white, chubby/obese high school girls with blue hair who spend too much time online daydreaming about celebrities and have no life and get no sex. The truth is that some fans -even if they themselves are white chubby blue haired girls- are obsessed with not being associated to that stereotype. They don't want Taehyung's fans to be some miserable, lonely losers. They want him to have "LOCALS" admiration and respect. When the members opened their own ig accounts, those interactions were a gateway to that, mostly because instagram is you know.. theee place for the skinny, tanned, successful, pretty LOCALS.

I've always thought the whole obsession with "gp" and "locals" was so stupid. There's absolutely nothing wrong in having a big fandom. That's literally how BTS came to be what they were until last year, and armys weren't praying and begging for "gp" support. Taylor gets the numbers she gets because yes, many people around the world know her name and willingly listen to her music; but also because she has a huge ass fanbase. She's been building that fanbase for more than a decade. Three years ago, if you listened to Taylor you would've been considered a pathetic, lonely loser too.

At the end of the day, all this popularity talk it's just fans' own insecurities and their itch to distance themselves and the idol from the image of a "fandom" because they know what everyone thinks of people who are part of fandoms. Ironically, most BTS fans started out as people who didn't know anything about kpop -gp- and two years later they're getting hit tweets calling Jennie a lazy slut and saying "my fave is so popular amongst locals."

Taehyung stans clung to his ig interactions because they thought having the likes of "locals" made him more important or better in every way than the other members. However, in music, it's always better to have a huge fandom that will make eight hours long playlists of your song and play it multiple times a day -investing their own money and time on you- than it is to have random people liking your ig posts. And if what I'm saying it's not enough, take his china bar activities as an example. They bought almost a million albums; there's no 800k "locals" that would've bought his album.

[bygiornogiovanna]

Hello, how have you been? I humbly invade your ask yet again for a yandere Giorno request because we crave your content like fuel.We stan your works in here religiously😤 But no rush obviously, and of course only if u wish to do so

Can we have a darling who is in awe with Gold Experience? Not only is darling fond of him but wants to physically show affection like holding hands and hugging? How would Giorno react?

Yandere! Giorno x GN! Reader who likes G.E.R

A/N: Hands down my most loved request I got since I started. It's the second time I write this since tumblr trolled me and didn't save my progress. Anyways I'm extremely tired (only exaggerating, I'm just normally tired) so I hope I can still meet your expectations (this is kinda really crack so enjoy xd) :D

You've been in this mansion for a few months, in which you had multiple (failed) escaping attempts. You honestly didn't hate this place as much as you should, and neither hated its owner.

Your...boyfriend, also known as Giorno Giovanna, you two had a more 'special' relationship. More like he was your kidnapper and you had to deal with him daily because no way in hell he was going to let you go.

Moving on, as a stand user, you tried to attack him once or twice so you could escape, but to no avail. He was stronger than you and had more fighting experience, resulting in Gold Experience Requiem defeating you both times.

To be honest, you were absolutely flabbergasted when you found out he had a stand too. And you were even more shocked when you realized you grew fond of GER. It was something about that stand that attracted you, and not in a love-like way. You just wanted to hug that stand and spend time with him, even if that meant spending time with Giorno.

Actually, you didn't have something against the blonde, he was always nice to you and never hurt you (except when you tried to hurt him or escape), so you couldn't say you hated him. You could say you considered him rather attractive than not. But what you like the most about him was his stand.

"Giornooo, can I see GER again?" you said, clinging onto his arm. "Y/N, amore, you saw my stand two hours ago, why is it necessary to see it so often?" Giorno said, caressing your hair. He honestly didn't know how to feel about this. The man liked that you offered him this much attention and he surely loved that you liked his stand, which was basically him.

But, it really felt weird to watch you want to give physical affection to his stand. "I don't know, I just feel connected to your stand. Can't tell you why exactly, but I want to see him againnn." you shrugged and whined, making Giorno roll his eyes.

"Fine. But you do know that liking my stand means liking me too, don't you?" he raised an eyebrow while revealing his stand and you giggled, taking GER's hand in yours. "It's not the case, I think. I'm not sure if I like you." You joked, making him take a deep breath.

"It doesn't make sense. You can't like the manifestation of my soul but not like me. Doesn't work like that, darling" he stated, making you roll your eyes. You chose to ignore him and play with his stand's hand, making him scrunch his nose in annoyance.

"Can you stop ignoring me and play with my stand like I'm not here? I feel everything you do!" Giorno said angrily and retracted his stand. Was he really jealous of his stand? "Noo, bring him back!" you whined and he nodded his head negatively.

"No, you're not seeing GER until you learn to give me attention too!..." he started rambling and, after a two seconds long pause, "Am I jealous of my own stand? Yes. Is it stupid? Also yes. Do I care? Absolutely not."

Seeing him get so worked up over nothing made you start laughing uncontrollably. "Nah, no way you are jealous of your stand." you say after two minutes of laughing, making him sigh. "Leave me alone, you are the one obsessed with me."

"You are the one that kidnapped me." you replied and he rolled his eyes. "Irrelevant."

"Come here little baby." you rolled your eyes back at him and hugged him.

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