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simp-ly-writes · 5 months

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My Glance Meets Your Touch

Ask: Halsin having a touched starved, significant other reader headcanons.

Pairing: Halsin Silverbourgh x Tav!Reader

Warnings: brief mentions of blood.

A/N: I love being a writer- your mind goes blank for days and then at some time during the early morning you are suddenly writing paragraphs upon paragraphs. Hope you enjoy this one! :)

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

↳ After freeing the lands from the Shadow curse alongside Halsin of his duties. You found yourself being able to concentrate more on your main objective- of slaying the absolutes army... alongside furthering your relationship together

↳ Yet in the celebrations being held for this small achievement, you could not help but feel this pit inside yourself, seeing everyone chatting, dancing, and feasting close together as you picked at the skin of your hand

↳ Halsin of course notices your state very quickly as he sets down his drink and try's to resolve your state, ever the healer the party knows him to be

↳ He checks over your hand, dressing the wounds from your picking alongside others you didn't notice from the battle earlier, his large, rough and callused hands encase your own in a gentle embrace that has you leaning your forehead to his shoulder- dreaming to be enveloped in his warmth as you sigh out, your body weight dropping onto his

↳ Slowing his actions from wrapping your frame, he pulls away slightly as you plea out, your bandaged hand starts to move upwards to pull him back as you wince from the pain. Thus snapping yourself out of the trance you fell into- cheeks becoming a feverous pink shade as you turn your head away to think of an excuse for your actions

↳ Halsin hums out lightly, taking in your appearance before tilting your head back to face him once more as your panicked eyes meet his own, he continues to care for you yet his eyes tell you otherwise. He demands to know where your pain is coming from

↳ You look over his shoulder to see all the festivities still roaring into the night as you shake your head and save the conversation for a later time- much to Halsin displeasure he stands back up, offering you a hand before returning back

↳ As your adventures continue, you find yourself absent mindedly pulling your fingers through his shifted-forms coat, untangling small knots while giving his back a slight scratch from your nails as you imagine the feeling in your own hair.

↳ Halsin looks back at you, taking note of your clouded over eyes in his yellow ones before shifting back to help Gale prepare dinner with the group

↳ Halsin watches as you increasingly spend more time around the owlbear cub and scratch, petting them for hours on end when you return to camp and read as you rest your head against their stomachs

↳ In the nighttime you toss in turn as the coldness eats you alive resting alone in your tent as Halsin stays awake as well- worried sick.

↳ Halsin eventually tells the party about your falling condition while you are out trading with local merchants- the worry eating him alive that you may be trying to leave him for a reason unknown

↳ The groups heavily suggests that he should just talk to you (or well Lae'zel had some more... violent opinions) yet nevertheless, Halsin cornered you at the fire as the others fled the scene with their excuses voiced into the cold breeze

↳ You shivered as nestled closer into your lovers embrace as you sighed out happily, your stressing leaving your shoulders- forehead wrinkles disappearing from your face. His hand gently rubs your arm as you nestle yourself further into his side

↳ Before your eyes close into the feeling, you glance up quickly as his circles stop against his skin, his eyes light up slightly as a small yet sad smile overcomes his features as you pick yourself up from him

↳ Yet he pulls you back, now further settled into his lap as his fingers drift through your hair, scratching your scalp and teasing its ends before he speaks softly, "I apologize for not understanding sooner"

↳ Your eyes widen to hear the sounds of his light chuckles as his chest reverberates against your body, a blush covering your face as you move to cower behind your hands

↳ "There is no need to be embarrassed about our needs, you have accepted mine and I have been all to forgetful to observe your own. I made a promise to dedicate myself to you and I have failed my words, it is I who needs to be embarrassed."

↳ You watch as his head hangs low, his chin tucked into his neck as you remove your hands from your face to cup his own, your thumbs ease the worried skin of his cheeks before you sit up to give him a light kiss against his chin

↳ "I am to blame as well, I should have addressed myself with your help before coming to this state" you reply, resting your forehead against his own while reaching to squeeze his hand in your own

↳ From that night forward, you walked hand in hand down the paved streets of Rivington and up into Baldur's Gate as you heard Karlach squeal behind you slightly, her hands clapping exceedingly before Astarion pulled her aside with a hush leaving his lips and Lae'zel rolled her eyes at the whole scene before carrying up the street, leaving you all behind

↳ You all treated yourself to an inn for the reminder of your adventure together as a party. You managed to sneak the owlbear and Scratch into your's and Halsins room as you snickered in delight to your plan working before hopping onto the freshly pressed sheets, burring your face into the scented pillow as you felt the bed dip beside you.

↳ Peaking out from the pillow, you watch as Halsin undresses and feel as he pulls you towards his body underneath the covers, the fire crackles in the background as your legs intertwine and you bury your head into his chest, his hands gliding up and down your spine as you shiver in pleasure

↳ In the morning as the window gives way to the nosies of the streets bustling below, Halsins voice calls to you in a hushed tone above them all as Scratch jumps up and begins licks your face before Halsin convinces him to wake the others as well, the owlbear following in tow

↳ You both treat yourselves to a warm bath as well, your back pressed against his front as you stare through the window and to the sky, watching as the clouds gently glide across the open blue and you sigh out happily

#bg3 fanfic #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 halsin x reader #halsin x reader #halsin silverbough #halsin #halsin silverbough x reader #bg3 halsin #headcanons #bg3 headcanons #fanfic #fanfiction #simp-ly #simp-ly-writes

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caberzatto · 1 month

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distraction (pt. 1)

fem!reader x Minho

summary: After the arrival of a new female glader, Minho begins acting strangely. He’s losing focus and getting easily distracted, which leads to an incident one day when he's out in the maze. Luckily the newest greenie is there to help.

word count : 4.6k

Being a teenage boy is hard enough as it, but being a teenage boy and having spent the last three years in a confined space surrounded by around fifty other teenage boys? Yeah, not the most ideal living situation in the world, I mean you can just imagine the amount of pent up sexual frustration.

I mean it's not like thoughts of sex or women were constantly on Minho's mind, but at the end of the day he's still a teenage boy with needs.

That day you had come up in the box was by far the most genuine feeling of excitement that the boys had felt throughout their time in the glade. I mean for most of them it was the first time that they could remember actually seeing a girl, and a really, really, pretty girl no less.

You can only imagine all the crass thoughts and mental images that made their way through the minds of majority of the boys once they opened up the box, only to find a girl sitting at the bottom.

The crowd of men above you simply stood and glared down at you in silence before one of the boys made a comment something along the lines of "Well how do we decide who gets first go, boys?," resulting in scattered snorts and chuckles from the rest of the group.

Alby was quick to step in, though. Keeping a close eye on you during your first few days in the glade; setting rules and boundaries around you to make sure no one would try anything. He showed you around and how things worked, informing you of all the different roles that everyone plays to ensure smooth sailing, introducing you to people like Newt and Fry and Gally.

And Minho.

You and Minho had never really spoken to each other despite you having been in the glade for almost 2 months now.

The most you'd interacted was one evening after the runners had gotten back from the maze. It was a night of festivities; everyone was gathered around what appeared to be a very large bonfire.

You were sat next to Newt on the trunk of a fallen tree, and as you blankly stared into the orange flames of the fire, you felt someone gently nudge your shoulder from behind, pulling you out of your trance like state. Alby. In his left had he held the necks of two bottles of Gally's secret drink and in his right hand he held a bowl of food, along with two more balancing on his inner forearm.

"Thanks, Alby," Newt said as he grabbed a bottle and a bowl from Alby's grasp, digging right into the plate of food, which honestly looked like a pile of vomit - no offense to Frypan, he does the best with what he’s got.

"Here you go Greenie," Alby offered a bowl of food to you as he climbed over the branch to take a seat beside you. "So, how's life in the glade treating you so far?" Alby questioned in between bites of food.

"Not bad I guess. Considering everything, you know," You placed your half-eaten bowl of food down, grabbing one of the bottles of Gally's drink from between Newt's legs to take a swig, cringing at the taste of the beverage.

As you pressed the bottle to your lips your eyes began to scan over the rest of the gladers sat in their own separated groups. Since Newt and Alby had already shown you around a few days prior to the bonfire, you were somewhat familiar with a majority of the boys and the jobs everyone did.

The 'runners' was one of the jobs that intrigued you the most when you’d first learned of them from Alby, (even though you yourself were a medj-jack), and they were just the group your eyes had landed on whilst you scanned the bunch of boys sat around the fire.

Your eyes settled on Minho, the dark haired Asian boy who was sat in the centre of the rest of the runners. He was the 'keeper of the runners' which is apparently a highly important role. Well, that's just the way everyone else described it.

It was not your intention to stare, and you hadn't actually realised that you were until Newt made a comment that snapped you out of it.

"Hey, Alby. I think our Greenie here might have a little crush," causing a chortle to leave Alby's mouth as he glanced between you and the Asian boy sat on the other side of the fire.

"Slim it you shanks," you were quick to roll your eyes at the two boys sitting on either side of you. Although they weren't totally wrong.

It's not like you hadn't taken notice of Minho when you were, eventually, let out of the box. The first thing you observed about him was his stoic demeanor. Unlike the rest of the gladers, Minho definitely did not appear to be as talkative or interactive as everyone else. He was honestly kinda reserved, only speaking to a few other boys such as Newt, Alby, and Fry.

But there was something about him that intrigued you. I mean, you obviously couldn't deny the fact that he was a very, very attractive dude, but it wasn't just that. There was something more to your interest in him.

Just as you were about to go back to your-unintentional-staring after brushing off Alby and Newt, once your eyes landed back on the spot Minho had been sitting, he was gone. Your eyes wandered around the area, trying to locate him, when you spotted him heading in your direction to which you quickly dropped your head to look down at the grass in hopes that he hadn't seen you staring.

Once he'd reached where you and the two boys were seated, he turned his attention towards Alby. "Hey, Alby, I needa talk to you," his eyes flickered to yours before he continued "It's about the map."

"Yeah sure, let me just finish off here and I'll walk with you to the map room, alright."

Minho nodded in response before finally paying attention to you and Newt, well, more so Newt than you but still. "W'sup Newt,"

"Yo, Minho," pulling his sleeve over his hand before wiping over his mouth to clean himself up, "How are things looking in the old maze?"

Minho placed his hands on either side of his runners' harness, grabbing onto it, causing it to pull down ever so slightly. Why was that so shucking attractive. "Not too bad actually, think we might be making a lot more progress."

Just as Alby had polished off the last of his food and was beginning to get up, Minho turned his attention towards you, giving a quick upnod, "What's up Greenie?" Without saying anything you merely returned the nod before he and Alby were on their way.

And that was the only 'interaction' you and Minho have had since then, if you can even call it an interaction at that.

Since then the two of you haven't exchanged any other words with each other, yet even aside that fact, you couldn't get him off your mind for a reason you couldn't come to terms with, or rather one that you were too embarrassed to admit.

It was safe to say that you had developed kind of a crush on the apathetic runner, although you don't even know how it happened seeing as you've barely said two words to one another in the past 2 months since becoming a new resident of the glade. But even so you would catch yourself stealing glances at the unbelievably pretty dark haired boy, from time to time.

Though you were blissfully unaware, Minho too would sneak looks (and the occasional stare) at you when you weren't paying attention. Even though he acted like it (and very well too) you were definitely not invisible to him. In fact you were truthfully the immense opposite of invisible to Minho.

From the day you had arrived in the box, to you and Minho's very first interaction that night during the bonfire, the boy could not, and I mean could not, get you out of his head.

Now, despite the fact that it was the first time he'd seen a girl in well over 3 years, it didn't change his mind that you were the most gorgeous girl he'd ever laid his eyes on. Ever.

Everyone in the glade knows very well that Minho is not an easily distracted, or crush - having type of guy, so when Ben and the rest of the runners were discussing their plans for their next venture into the maze and Minho was not quick to chime in to either correct something or simply just to add his input, they knew something strange was definitely going on.

"Minho," Ben called out the boys name on the account that he'd been staring at section 6 of the maze for the past 10 minutes without saying a word, or even blinking for that matter, "Minho!"

Minho's head quickly snapped up to look at Ben, before clearing his throat and trying, but very miserably failing, to pretend as if nothing happened at all.

"Yo, Minho, where's your shuckin'' head at today?" Ben questioned as the rest of the group grunted in agreement.

The answer to Ben's question was you.

Minho knew himself very well, and for him to be distracted whilst on the job? is not like himself whatsoever. Being the leader of the runners is one of the most important jobs in the glade, and Minho himself knows that better than anyone, which is why he takes his job very seriously, never allowing his mind to be absorbed with anything else less eminent. He puts it above almost everything else.

But now, suddenly he's constantly finding himself daydreaming about you, about the gorgeous girl who came up in the box almost 2 months ago. And he just can't seem to shake you from his head.

He's tried almost everything he could think of to keep his mind off you : burying himself in his work - sometimes even spending hours in the map room - taking cold showers in attempts to slow his heart rate. But nothing was doing the trick.

It even got so bad to the point where he'd run out of possible solutions to solve his problem, so he did something completely outside of his character - he confided in someone about it.

This specific someone being Newt, who when Minho came to him all tense and awkward and completely unlike his normal self, immediately knew what was causing his newfound dilemma. The newest (female) Greenbean of the glade.

Once Minho had finished informing Newt of his current problem, and embarrassing himself by rambling on and on in the process, a smug, shit - eating grin was plastered onto Newt's face

"For shuck's sake, Newt, you're supposed to be helping me with my problems here, not finding them amusing." A frustrated Minho expressed.

"Okay, okay, you're right, my deepest apologies," Newt placed a hand over his heart, feigning sympathy for the wreck of the usually put together boy standing in front of him. "But alright, you want my advice?"

The keeper of the runners nodded his head desperately, "That's the entire bugging' reason I came to you in the first place, Newt."

"Well," Newt replied, dragging the end of the word almost as if he was unsure of what he was about to say, "You're going to have to talk to her, Minho." He explained as he shrugged his shoulders, almost as if to say it wasn't even that big of a deal.

"No. Absolutely shucking not," Minho babbled on, "I mean, I wouldn't even know the first thing to say to he- what the shuck would I say to her?" Desperately looking to Newt for the answers to his problems.

The blond boy merely crossed his arms over his chest, "That my dear friend, is for you to figure out on your own."

Minho is not a talker, he's simply just not good at it. So unsurprisingly he took absolutely none of Newt's advice. Instead, sticking with what he knows he's best at - running. When he's running between the walls of the maze his mind is clear, well, for the most part. He still has to be alert and aware of grievers on top of having to lead the rest of the runners, but for Minho, that's as clear as it gets.

So that's what he's been doing and it had been working great for maybe a week or so before everything went awry.

The scorching sun was beginning to disappear behind the vine-covered walls of the maze, signalling that the doors were about to close, although today was different from any other day because usually by his time, the runners would have been back already. And they weren't.

Ben and Minho were the only two to go into the maze today, which made the fact that they weren't back yet even weirder. Typically, the fewer runners went into the maze , the earlier they'd get back, meaning that the two boys should have long emerged from the griever-infested walls.

People had started to gather at the solid doors of the maze, worry beginning to consume the thoughts of one glader at a time. You and Newt were stood at the forefront of the rest of the boys, anticipating the safe return of Ben and his leader.

5 minutes had passed and still no sign of Ben or Minho. "They're not coming back bro," were the words being exchanged amongst the group of dispirited boys. At least 2 more minutes go by and still absolutely nothing; no movement from inside the unwelcoming walls of the maze.

A once sizeable group of gladers waiting under the anticipation of the two runners' return, had now decreased until the only people left were you, Newt, Chuck, Alby, Jeff, and Clint.

"They're not gonna make it." Newt proclaimed to everyone else.

Even though you hadn’t know him long, you couldn't even fathom the possibility of Minho not coming back from the maze. The possibility that you might never see him again. Never see his face again. "They'll make it."

And just as the words left your lips, two figures rounded the final corner of the maze, coming into view for everyone to see.

Chuck's head shot up whilst his arm flung in Ben and Minho's direction "There!"

But the closer the two boys got to the doorway, the more apparent it became that something was very wrong. Minho's arm was slung over Ben's shoulder, whilst his other one clutched his midsection. His head hung down as Ben used all the strength he had left to drag the both of them to the safety of the glade.

A loud rumble erupted in the air, shaking the ground beneath the feet of you and everyone else surrounding you, indicating the closing of the maze walls. By now, it really did look like the two adolescent teens weren't going to make it in time before the doors shut, meaning they would have to spend an entire night in the maze. And no one ever survived a night in the maze.

Without thinking, you lunged forward, heading towards Ben and the injured boy lugging by his side. Your fellow gladers tried to grab hold of you but were unsuccessful in their attempts as you had already set foot in the maze.

Ben shifted his gaze to you, giving you a look as if to say, "You've really done it now, Greenie," yet you couldn't care less. The only thing on your mind was getting them to safety before you were all trapped in there for the night.

Yanking Minho's free arm from his stomach, you pulled it over your shoulder to provide more support for the injured boy who now stood between you and Ben. Shouts of desperation and distress flooded your ears, coming from the now-increased crowd of boys standing on the grass in front of you.

You grunted as you and Ben pushed closer towards the exit, dragging Minho as best as possible along with you. Your safe haven was a mere few feet ahead, looking like the three you might make it, but the doors of the maze were faster, closing in in an attempt to squash you between them.

"Come on!" yelled Chuck and his fellow friends as you approached closer and closer towards them.

An exhausted Ben looked at you with an encouraging expression, as he could see you were beginning to tire out, and with all the strength you both had left, the two of you hastened your pace, Minho's legs dragging along the floor of the maze.

Your bodies were now sideways due to the limited space between the doors, brushing against the cold surface of the walls. With Ben behind Minho, and you in front of him, still clutching onto his limp arms, you squeezed your way through the doors that threatened to crush you.

And just as the doors made their final thrust, you were through.

You hit the ground hard and with a thud after being pushed by Ben, who barely got his arm out in time before the doors of the maze finally slammed shut, resulting in a loud 'BOOM' erupting throughout the glade.

The soft grass brushed against your cheek, your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths of exhaustion. 'I'm safe. I made it." Was the first thought to enter your head.

Using all your effort, you planted your hands on the ground, hoisting yourself up onto your feet, and before you were able to register what was happening, at least 30 boys were clamoring around you and the two other boys that lay on the ground beside you.

Minho.

God, Minho. You looked down and watched as your friends helped Minho and Ben to their feet as best as they could. Without any regard for yourself and your current state, you promptly began giving orders to your fellow med jacks, Clint and Jeff. "Get them to the med hut, now!"

Newt and Alby sat Minho down on one of the beds in the hut, whilst Jeff and Clint attended to Ben to check if too had any injuries. Once Minho was settled, Alby gave orders to the large huddle of boys situated outside the entrance of the hut to pack it in for the night and head to bed. "You guys alright in here?" His words, directed to you, Jeff and Clint.

Your eyes never once strayed away from the Asian boy who was now laying on the bed in front of you, "Yeah, we've got it from here. Thanks, Alby."

"Let us know if there's anything you need," Newt added. And with that, the two of them left the hut to settle down for the night.

Jeff and Clint had completed their inspection of Ben, concluding that he was relatively fine; just a few cuts and scrapes were all, and once they had finished cleaning those up with some rubbing alcohol and plasters, they assisted Ben to his hammock, checking on you before they left, "Yo, Greenbean. You good?" Clint questioned.

Still not taking your eyes off Minho, "Yeah, I got it, thanks guys. Goodnight."

And then there were two.

Minho had both his arms draped across his stomach, clutching his midsection. His eyes were shut tight, his brows furrowed as he groaned in pain. But let it be Minho to still pass a comment whilst being severely injured, "You could've gotten us killed in there, Greenie."

You scoffed in amusement as you carefully began moving his arms away from his stomach to take a closer look at his injuries, "True, but I ended up saving your life didn't I."

No response.

You placed your fingers on the hem of Minho's shirt, accidentally brushing them against his skin, causing him to shiver under your touch. For a second you wondered if it was because of the pain from his cut, or the fact that you had touched him, although you quickly brushed your thoughts away as to not let yourself get distracted.

As you tried to lift his shirt to assess the severity of his cut, it soon became apparent that you need more access to be able to do a proper job of cleaning it up. Meaning he has to take his shirt off. Meaning you're gonna see him shirtless for the first time ever.

Great. This won't be awkward at all.

"Minho," pausing to collect yourself, "I, uh, need you to take your shirt off, y'know, so I can get a better look at the cut on your stomach."

He tenses under your touch. Again.

In your head, you excuse the reaction for him just being in pain. But in reality, Minho is having a full-blown freakout in his mind right now. He has to take his shirt off. In front of you. The girl he's secretly been crushing on since you arrived in the glade.

Great. This won't be awkward at all.

He clears his throat before lifting his head off the table to look a you, "Uh, yeah, sure no-no problem." He's stuttering. Minho never stutters, like ever.

You remove your hand from its current position on Minho's stomach and place it on his lower back to help him sit up straight, but as he's getting up, his hand slips off the side of the narrow twin bed, and in a quick attempt to balance himself he grabs onto the forearm of your other free arm, causing your body to jolt forward.

Your faces are now mere inches away from one another, both of you in shock with wide eyes as you look at each other, registering what just happened. This sudden closeness doesn't last long, though you wish it had, as Minho pulls his arm away.

Once again, he clears his throat, meanwhile, you blink rapidly in an attempt to gain back focus, "Um, okay where were we-right, um I'm gonna need that shirt of yours to come off now."

He simply nods, before lifting his arms over his head, as best as he can, wincing from the pain coming from his midsection. As his arms raise, his shirt lifts up slightly, giving you a peek of his toned stomach in the process.

Focus.

You unhooked his harness, carefully taking it off first before tackling his shirt. Your hands find their way back to the hem of the garment, steadily raising it higher and higher until it's over his head and his arms are through, before placing it on the bed on the other side of the hut.

A now, shirtless, Minho sat before you on the bed as you tried to calm your quickened heart rate. But God was he a work of art. You couldn't help but admire his athletic body, I mean he literally looks like he was carved from stone.

Focus.

"Okay, now let me take a look at that nasty cut of yours," you positioned one hand on Minho's chest and the other on his stomach just below where the cut was.

As you took a closer look to examine the injury closer, Minho's head was just about ready to explode. His head was tilted upwards, barely even breathing, focusing only on the way you were touching him. Touching his body.

What could he have possibly done to deserve this? Aside from maybe almost dying, of course.

Suddenly, the warmth of your hands disappeared, prompting Minho to look down at where they once were, as you walked over to the cabinet to get supplies to clean the affected area. And he couldn't help but wish your hands were back on him.

With your back facing him, you grabbed everything you needed, your mind wandering back to the maze. Minho has never gotten injured in the maze before, he's the best of the best, and he never gets distracted. So what was so different this time?

"So, what the shuck happened out there today?" you made your way back over to him, supplies in hand, "I mean," you paused, placing a cotton ball that was damp with rubbing alcohol on the cut, causing a strained moan to leave his lips. the sound left your mind fuzzy, "you've never gotten hurt, and definitely not this badly, in the maze before right?" You looked up at him, eyes wide with confusion.

That look could have sent him over the edge.

He licked his lips, "Uh-shuck...I dunno, I guess I just..." his words trailed off as he looked back down at you, "uhh, just got distracted I guess."

You couldn't believe what you'd just heard, "You, got distracted?" still running the cotton all over the large cut, "I mean you, the Minho, the always focused, leader of the runners?...surely my ears are deceiving me."

Minho chuckled at your genuine disbelief, "Sure did."

After wiping off the last bit of blood, you put down the now red-stained ball of cotton and picked up the roll of gauze and began unraveling it, "Well...are you gonna tell me what on Earth it is that distracted you or are you gonna make me guess," smiling at him as you asked the question.

He's going crazy right now.

"Uhh..." Okay, deep breaths now Minho, "well, it was uh- okay," The boy was literally a stumbling mess in front of you, his hand flying to scratch the back of his head, "okay-shuck, I mean...okay,"

"Jeez, I can take a hint y'know, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I was just curio-"

"It was you!" He blurts out, cutting you off mid-sentence.

You blink, confused at what has just come out of his mouth. "Me? what do you mean it was me who distracted you?"

Well, there's no going back now.

"I,okay-shuck... I like you, okay? Like, like-like you, and for the past couple of weeks I haven't been able to get you out of my head and I just- I don't know, I mean it's not like me to be easily distracted but you- you just-you're so pretty and sweet and it was getting so bad-not that...liking you is a bad thing, I just mean I didn't know how to stop thinking about you that I even went and asked Newt for his help! Which is just...so unlike me but I-uh-yeah..."

No words. I mean you literally had no words. Minho just told you he likes you?? What is the right reaction? So you just stood there. Frozen.

"Shuck... say something. Please." He asks softly, pulling you out of your trance like state.

"I-uh...I...I like you too Minho," you admitted.

His eyes widened as he stared at you in shock. You liked him? You like him. You. Like. Him. "You...you like me?"

You rolled your eyes at the oblivious boy in front of you, "Yes, you shank, I do." your tone low and faint.

His voice is soft and almost gleeful as his eyes flicker to your lips briefly, "Oh... well that-that's great, I mean its good-I mean-"

You leaned forward, cutting him off, and pressed your lips against his, catching him off guard. He kisses you back almost immediately as you stand between his legs, his hands gently coming and settling on your waist.

"Holy shuck!"

The two of you abruptly pull away from one another, as a third voice fills the hut. Both looking over to the entrance, Newt is leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, and a very big smug smile on his face as he stares back at the both of you.

"I take it you two lovebirds have finally worked things out?" he added, sounding much too pleased for you and Minho's liking.

You turn to look at each other once again, chuckling lightly before awkwardly turning back to face the tall blond boy by the door.

#the maze runner #minho the maze runner #minho x reader #minho x you #minho #Thomas the maze runner #tmr minho #tmr fanfic #minho smut

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kisscara · 1 year

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O9. his way of thanks [fanboy!scaramouche x drummer!reader] ⎯⎯ heartbeat rhythm series

the president of the decorating committee, keqing, makes her way to the front of the classroom. "okay, everyone. let's start planning on what we're going to do for this year's school festival. by the end of today's class, we should have our application submitted to the student council. any ideas?"

yoimiya excitedly proposes, "what about a maid café?" keqing smiles, "i don't know if the guys would be up to wearing those outfits." yoimiya pouts in response, "they could be butlers!" hu tao sputters, "that's boring. you know what we should do? a haunted house."

xingqiu glances at the brunette, "that does seem like your forte, hu tao." ayaka coyly suggests with a tilt of her head, "maybe a drama performance?" keqing uses a piece of chalk to list down the possible options on the board. yoimiya yelps, "why didn't you add the maid café idea!?"

scaramouche is sitting a seat away from you, watching you scribble little drawings on the corner of your desk. his pretty blue eyes deeply analyze your actions. everything you do is just so fascinating to him. "president, could you help us out?" keqing queries.

heizou nudges scaramouche, although it isn't enough to snap the male out of his trance. he hisses, "hey, scaramouche!" scaramouche mumbles, "drawing..."

keqing repeats in a confused state, "drawing?" heizou nervously laughs, "ha-ha, i think what he's trying to say is... ah, maybe we should do an art exhibition!" keqing hums, "interesting intake. any opposing of that idea?"

scaramouche finally gets back to the present and looks at heizou, who gives him a deadpan expression. "i just saved your ass! what caught your attention?" heizou whisper-shouts, scolding his friend. scaramouche glances back at you, where you still seem to be occupied with drawing little animals.

heizou teases him in a lilting tone, "of course."

after heizou leans towards his left side to tell xiao about it, the bell signals the end of class. scaramouche immediately stands up from his desk and goes to where venti's sitting. "hey, give me my headphones. you borrowed them long enough," scaramouche seethes. venti exclaims in return, "no way, the sound quality is so nice!"

the shorter male snatches the headset from him and venti frowns. "fine, i already know it's because you can't last a single day without listening to their drum solos." venti's playful whisper throws scaramouche off.

his complexion goes beet red as he places the headphones around his neck. kazuha lightly laughs, "your face says it all, scaramouche." scaramouche is bound to throw another snarky insult while leaving for the next class, however a tug at his sleeve stops him short.

he turns his head and raises his brow in confusion. "oh, (name). do you need anything?" scaramouche queries, trying to avoid your gaze as discreetly as possible. in the background, venti mocks him, "do you need anything?" scaramouche could clearly hear xiao, heizou and aether quietly chuckling.

"well, no, but yun jin told me to give this to you since she wants you to hear how much potential our band has." you hold out a cd in its case, covered in mostly black but with the unmistakenable, classic and iconic dark blue 5O5 graphics.

"she figured that if you did research on some of our past releases, you wouldn't have found our unreleased songs unless you went to our live performance. these are our most recents and we hope that it meets your standards," you politely say, arm sore from sticking out with the cd in your hand.

you didn't percieve the way he clenched his jaw in excitement, the way sparkles appeared in his eyes and the way he pursed his lips to restrain himself from smiling. "i'll... i'll see if i have any time to listen to it after class," scaramouche mutters. he ends up taking it from you and speed-walking out of the classroom.

xiao steps forward and gives you a few pats on the shoulder. "don't worry, that's his way of thanking you."

tags: @mariusvonhangme @scaramoo @mikismusings @rizakari @akagism2 @sakiimeo @ohmyfinggod @aethersluvrr @scarafrisbee @kaoyamamegami @liliumaraneae @dreamsofminnie @starfart19 @kunisbeloved @luhvashh @makiswrld @kyouzki @mimissubway @loucaroarz @theblueblub @angelunatic @shinjuuz @thenightsflower @coquettemaiden @thefandomcrow @cotton-eee @lovely028 @hrtswinter @duckyyyx @kissingkzuha @dazaisboner @adeptusx @tomotofu @yukiipc @loverhole @star583 @soobasaur @dr8amy @scaraapologist @raideneiari @rvoulte @esquevl @pyrrhicgaze @tjjjrsj @enviouspeanut @d4y-dr3am3r @aromaticism @undecidingfate @idontwantoeatspicy

taglist is now closed as i've reached the max tags in a single post. (50/50 tags occupied + officially removed users whose names aren't linked)

what happens when you, a talented and well-known drummer across the web, grow an intense crush for the student council president, who's also your number one fan? from annoying sisters to nosy bandmates, the next event that happens is always more chaotic than the last!

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goatcheesecak3 · 5 months

Text

Bus stop

Adam stanheight x f!reader

Click here for the m!reader version!

Includes: fluff, implied romance between Adam and reader, brief mentions of violence

Summary: Adam is a social pariah after escaping the jigsaw killer, but while waiting for the bus, he makes a new friend, and things seem hopeful for once.

Adam sat at the bus stop, staring at nothing in particular. He never used to wear hoodies, but since the whole jigsaw thing, he didn't really have a choice. He hated when people would recognise him from the news as a jigsaw survivor, taking pictures of him or asking him questions about it. The worst part by far was when he heard murmurs about how he was technically a murderer. It was true, he had bludgeoned a man to death with a ceramic toilet lid, hit him over the head so ferociously and with so much vigour that his head might as well have been a bag of marbles. However, it was immediately clear to police that this was an act of self defence, if you're chained up in an abandoned bathroom and some lunatic comes running in there with a gun, what else can you do? Adam had tried to tell himself this many times, but it did little to soothe him. He had killed someone, at the end of the day. He knew it, and everyone else knew it. He just wanted to fade into the background and not be seen, and so, the hood stayed up.

Rain hammered into the streets, and Adam shuddered as he held himself tight under the little shelter that the bus stop provided. It was a freezing cold afternoon in mid December, and he couldn't have felt less festive if he tried. Turns out technically being a murderer makes you kind of a social pariah, so he had pretty much no chance of making friends to spend the holidays with. His own company wasn't exactly the nicest either, since any and every little thing seemed to trigger some sort of panic attack or flashback. He would try to simply sleep through the rest of his life away if it weren't for the nightmares, so that wasn't really an option either. The lack of sleep, isolation and constant feelings of anxiety had turned Adam into a somewhat bitter person, he'd never exactly been a ray of sunshine, but at the very least he could dish out witty little quips and sardonic comments (even if they were for the sole purpose of being defiant and sarcastic). Nowadays he didn't have the energy or the patience to be funny, he was just short tempered, angry, and trying not to cry all the time.

He blinked slowly, waiting for his bus and feeling quite sorry for himself, when suddenly a voice broke the trance like state he was in.

"Excuse me?" He snapped, turning to look at the speaker, sounding more pissed off than he thought he was going to

"Sorry to be a bother, but could you tell me if this bus is gonna go to the south end of town?" Asked the young woman who the voice belonged to.

Adam was taken aback by this, the woman in front of him was his age, fresh faced and quite pretty. She seemed friendly and had a welcoming demeanour, which was strange. Ever since his situation hit the news a few months ago, the reception he got was normally aloof or wary, but not from her. She wasn't here to pry, either, she simply wanted to enquire about the bus timetable. She was talking to him like he was any other person in the city.

"Oh.. uh yeah it is" mumbled Adam, stumbling over his words slightly.

"Thanks so much," the woman beamed, "I've asked about five people about the buses and you're the first one to actually talk to me" she chuckled, taking a seat next to him.

Adam gave the girl a perplexed look, as he wondered who would be nuts enough to give someone like her the cold shoulder. Sure, he wasn't exactly the friendliest of people, but even he could give her the time of day, what was everyone else's excuse?

"Y/n, by the way," she smiled, holding out her hand to him.

"Adam," he replied, doing his best impression of a smile, hoping it would add a little bit of cheer into his inflection so as not to scare this pretty girl away, as he took her hand and shook it gently.

"Adam, that's a nice name" she smiled at him.

She still hadn't put two and two together that he was the same Adam from the news... unless she somehow hadn't seen the news. But that would be impossible... unless

"Are you new around here by any chance?" Adam asked, looking for answers.

"Yeah, I am, Only moved to this city a few weeks ago. You been here long?" She replied

"My whole life, one day I'll get out of here though" he replied, staring straight ahead. He thought to himself how many times he'd said that exact same thing; "one day I'll get out of here". It was just wishful thinking at this point, but it was a comforting thought, so he chose not to dig into it any deeper so as not to destroy the illusion of a hopeful future.

"I can't say I blame you for wanting to get out of here. Everyone seems so... cold" y/n said, a tinge of sadness in her voice, "I thought I'd make friends out here I mean, that's what you're supposed to do when you're young, right? Go to the big city and meet lots of new people? I gotta say, I don't know what I was thinking. I'm much more at home in the countryside far away from everyone else. Sorry, I'm rambling" she trailed off.

Adam hadn't quite realised how much he missed just having a normal conversation with someone up until this moment. He knew he'd been lonely, he had been most of his life, but this just hammered it home. Having a small taste of normalcy when he was so used to isolation made him crave it. A destructive part of him felt weak for enjoying talking to this stranger at the bus stop, but a stronger part of him felt compelled to carry on.

"No, it's okay, " he said with a weak smile, "it's actually nice to rambled at a bit. I uh.. don't have many friends either. It gets pretty lonely."

He felt foolish saying this. He was a grown man, and here he was talking about friendship like some little schoolgirl. Christ, if his dad saw him acting like this he'd probably smack him into next week for being so feeble. There was that destructive part of him again, trying to ruin something nice.

"Well, maybe we could be eachother's friend?" Y/n suggested with a warm smile.

She was radiant, so effortlessly kind and warm. Everything about her made Adam want to let his guard down, she just had one of those faces you could trust. If he had to describe her essence in one word, it would have been "lovely".

Hesitantly, and slightly nervously, Adam nodded.

"That would be nice, yeah" he grinned. He grinned. He hadn't grinned in months. It was as though every single wall he'd put up simply melted away in that moment, and the feeling was like a natural high.

"Here," y/n said, handing Adam her phone, "put your number in and I'll text you sometime"

Adam did so, without hesitation this time. When the bus pulled up, Adam graciously offered for y/n to get on first, which she accepted.

"A single to the south end please, and whatever he's getting" she said to the driver, pulling her wallet out and smiling over her shoulder at Adam

"Uh, the same" he said, trying to hide just how flattered he was that she'd offered to pay for his journey, "heh, thanks" he smiled awkwardly.

The pair rode the bus together, talking and laughing about music and films until they reached their stops and went their separate ways home.

For the first time in who knows how long, Adam had a spring in his step. There was something about y/n that made him feel safe enough to come out of his shell. He felt his heart almost melt when he got home, to find he'd recieved a text:

This is y/n from the bus stop :) was so lovely to meet you! You doing anything tomorrow? x

A/n hello! Let me know if you want a part 2 to this!

Replies and reblogs are very much appreciated! I thrive on your validation lmao

Requests are open! Check my pinned post for details and masterlist! <3

#adam faulkner stanheight #adam saw #adam imagine #saw adam #adam faulkner #adam faulkner x reader #adam stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #leigh whannell #saw #saw 2004 #saw franchise #sawposting #saw movies #saw fanfic #adam x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #fluff

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an-au-blog · 6 months

Note

Kissing booth but its zosan

I'll just assume you're not talking about the movie, (if I'm wrong, correct me, I can work with that too... i think) to which I will say: yes. I agree.

I mean listen -

Vivi started a fundraiser for charity and she decided that it'd be fun if they made it in a more festive manner. To which Sanji is happy to help because, how could he say no to a beautiful lady in need? Zoro on the other hand did not want to go but Nami blackmailed him into doing this "eentsy weetsy" favor for her girlfriend. (He still owes her money.)

Luffy, Zoro and Franky help with carrying the heavy things. Usopp and Franky do the lights and music set-up. Sanji does cooks the food and the rest help with decorations and setting up different attractions.

Once the event began, they put Franky and Robin in the haunted house, Book has a performance, Luffy is let to run around because he can't stay in one place and so on everyone is at attractions. Sanji thought he was going to be at the food stands, but then Nami drags him aside to an empty standalone booth. What was even more confusing was that Zoro also had one right next to his.

Nami as if talking to toddlers: You guys are gonna be on kissing booth duty, isn't that exciting?!

Zoro: Wtf? No, I'm not doing that.

Nami, taking out her phone: Let's see, January - 50, February - 25, Match... wow 140 that's a lot, huh? Anyways, April -

Zoro: Okay, okay I get it.

Zoro got a line of beautiful girls, some young some old, but his attitude is the same for all of them. Irritation with slight boredom. Sanji on the other hand, had only a handful of women. Most were Okamas and his line was still twice smaller than Zoro's.

Sanji agrees because he would live to kiss pretty ladies. He doesn't need convincing, but Nami throws in a "I'm putting the two most handsome boys on these stands after all" just to ensure Sanji stays.

She also ended up giving them a quota to fulfill.

In their "hygiene break", Sanji grabs him by the collar and gets real close to his face.

Sanji: You think you're all that just because you got more ladies? Huh?

Zoro smiling for the first time since the festival started: Are you jealous of them, cook? Of you want a kiss, you gotta pay me first.

Sanji becomes furious and starts shouting at him but then a lady from the ones waiting speaks up.

Woman: Um, actually, I'd pay to see you two kiss.

Sanji: ...

Sanji: Pardon? Je ne comprends pas. ("I don't understand" in french)

Zoro looks at the woman: You have the money?

Woman: Yes.

And she put the money in the slot.

Zoro smiles again and shrugs: Welp, money's money. Works for me.

He grabs Sanji by the back of the neck and plants a kiss on his lips. It was short and as if out of spite. Not in a bad way. Im fact Sanji was surprised how much "not in a bad way" it was. His lips were soft and soaked in long overdue passion. He couldn't dare say it was in a good way though, he still had some pride to admit it.

Still, he was frozen in place.

Another "client" raised their hand in the air holding money: I want the same thing, please!

Zoro nodded and kissed Sanji again, ironically enough it broke Sanji's trance-like state. He was a bit too aware of everyone's eyes on them.

Zoro, amused and absolutely sure Sanji wouldn't do it, tilts his head in the person's depreciation, he laughed: You heard the clients, so what ya gonna do love cook?

A third person from the back, throwing in three times the price: I'll pay triple for Sanji to kiss him.

Sanji furrows his brow, takes a deep breath and pulls Zoro into a deep and passionate kiss that caught everyone off guard. Once he pulled away, they were both out breath and everyone was watching them wordlessly.

After a long moment of Sanji's determined eyes looking into Zoro's pleasantly shocked ones, the cook looked back at the people and announced: That's the last show your getting from us. Booths are open again.

After that, until the end of the night qt least eight more people asked if they could make them kiss each other again, but they said "no".

Afterwards Zoro was pulled aside before they could go to the others. He got pinned to the wall, Sanji's hands leaning on either side of his head. They were sharing air, almost like when they were fighting but if felt so much more intimate this time for some reason.

Sanji: Stop me if you don't like what I'm about to do.

After which Sanji kissed Zoro again. Not being watched must have been a factor, because if Zoro guessed by his movements and kisses, Sanji was no longer holding back on him.

Zoro never stopped him.

#zosan #zoro x sanji #sanji x zoro #one piece zosan #op #answers #i wrote this half asleep pls ignore the typos

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avoxrising · 9 months

Text

Miss Nectarine ~ Johanna Mason x Femme Reader

Warnings: Homphobia

This is a hunger games one shot based on the song Miss Nectarine by Ashnikko. Enjoy :)

It started when we were 14. District 7 was unbearably hot in August so you and your best friend Johanna decided to go down to the lake and swim. The specific lake you went to was small and somewhat out of the way of most people in your district, so you two often opted to swim sans clothing as you couldn’t afford bathing suits and wearing wet jeans sucked.

“Earth to y/n,” Johanna states, snapping you out of your trance. You definitely weren’t staring at her…

“What?” you ask.

“We should get going,” Johanna says as she wades towards shore to put back on her clothes. “The mill will be closing for the day soon and I don’t want the creepy old lumberjack men coming over to our lake to stare at us.”

“Fine,” you relent as you exit the water and put on your clothes as well.

“Tomorrow meet me at the lumber yard by my house at dawn,” you tell her. This was your favorite place to meet up besides the lake. She agrees and you depart for your house.

Your parents were less than enthused about your friendship with Johanna. Many townsfolk had seen you two skinny dipping and no matter how many times both of you had told your parents you were just friends, the neighbors still gossiped.

Being gay in District 7 was seen as a big no no. The people in the district were weirdly spiritual, believing that if you were gay you would go to a bad place in the afterlife. Neither you nor Johanna believed any of it but it was hard to avoid hearing it.

You actually met Johanna at a spiritual service your parents took you to for the autumn festival a few years ago. Johanna was the only other girl your age who didn’t seem to be into the lessons either. And she was undeniably attractive.

“Were you out with Johanna again?” your mother asks as you arrive home, noticing your wet hair.

“Yea uh we just went swimming,” you reply. “It’s hot.”

“Y/n what did I tell you about going swimming with Johanna?” your mother scolds you. “People are going to think you’re a homosexual and burn you at the stake.”

You quickly head to your room, realizing that what your mother said was correct even if it wasn’t fair.

Meeting up with Johanna in the mornings before school was always your favorite time of day. The lumber yard by your house sat on a hill that was perfect for watching the sunrise over the forest. The two of you often used this time to laugh about the people at school or talk about the latest neighborhood gossip.

“Omg y/n I met the cutest guy on my walk home yesterday!” Johanna gushes to you.

“Oh uh what’s his name?” you ask.

“His name is Jack and he’s in the grade above us. The super cute guy with the brown spiked hair,” she replies.

“I think I’ve seen him,” you shrug.

“He wants to hang out after school today and I’m so nervous,” Johanna exclaims. “What if he wants to kiss me?”

“Then you kiss him,” you state.

“But I don’t know how to kiss people,” Johanna sighs, seemingly frustrated with herself.

After a moment of silence, Johanna suddenly blurts out, “Can we practice? Kissing I mean. I want to know what I’m doing when Jack kisses me.”

Stupidly agreeing, you proceed to kiss Johanna, the girl you have had a crush on for 2 years, and a girl who would never love you back. Kissing her was even better than you had pictured it, but she was the most boy crazy person you knew. No matter what there would always be boys that would be her first choice over you.

Your routine of practicing kissing with Johanna continues up until you’re 16. You claim it’s so you can “get really good at it” but really you just want to kiss her. In those moments you can close your eyes and pretend she’s really yours.

Meetups now involve liquor and short shorts as you continue riding the fuzzy line between friends and more than friends. It was never more than kissing, and never more than platonic on her end, but you wish it was something real.

This dream shatters when her mother catches you two kissing at the lumber yard one morning. Johanna had forgotten her lunch at home so her mother had gone to your house in an attempt to find her, and your mother pointed her in the direction of the lumber yard. Her mother flew into a rage, more over the kissing than the alcohol, and dragged Johanna by her hair back to her house, screaming at her the whole way.

You immediately followed and tried to apologize. Saying how it was all your idea and Johanna had nothing to do with it. Tears streamed down your face as you realized what Johanna’s parents would do to her. No matter how much you tried to take the blame for what happened, you both were now painted as “sexual deviants”. Maybe if you attended more spiritual events with your mother this feeling inside of you would go away, and you would be seen as normal. Maybe you could “fix” yourself in the eyes of your community.

You didn’t see Johanna for almost a year after that date. Her parents sent her off to a camp for troubled youth and your parents grounded you and kept you in the house. Every single day you wished you could go back and undo it all; save Johanna from the punishments she’s enduring. It’s not fair. Maybe one day you’ll live in a district where you could love anyone you wanted to, but not now and not here in 7.

The next time you saw Johanna was at the reaping ceremony. Her hair was longer and her body seemed strong. The camp she had attended was known for working the kids in the forests so her muscles had grown. She seemed angry and dejected, as if she was still being punished for what happened. You wanted more than anything to go stand next to her but her mother would have your head if she caught you.

After that day you realized that you could never have Johanna. Your boy crazy best friend was shipped off to the games and came back a victor. She moved to the other side of the district and now had her choice of any boy she wanted. You would always be the second choice.

She was your Miss Nectarine, and you were the girl who ruined her life.

#hunger games #the hunger games #hunger games angst #the hunger games fanfiction #ashnikko #johanna mason #Johanna x reader #Johanna x y/n #hunger games x reader #district 7 #femme reader

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chyckles · 5 months

Text

New traditions

━ A Dean Winchester one-shot

━ Pairings: dean winchester x spaniard!fem!reader; platonic sam winchester & spaniard!fem!reader

━ Summary: Where you and the boys travel to Spain to spend new years eve with your family.

━ Words: 3.7k

━ Warnings: just some suggestive comments here and there, and my bad English

━ A/N: I know, I know, a little late, but better late than never.

This is so self indulgent that I might cry. The family of the reader is not like mine, but I still feel like it's me, there, with Dean 🥺.

There are a lot of Spanish dialogues, I'm sorry, but the translation is right next to them. This was so confusing to write because of that, so I'm sorry if I made any mistake.

masterlist

Saying you miss your family is an understatement. It’s been six years since the last time you saw them, six long years where you’ve spent Christmas alone, where you have received the new year alone.

You moved to the United States because your boyfriend lived here. Then, after a few months you decided that you were in love with the idea of him, not with him at all; so you two broke up. You still didn’t return to home, you now had your life here: a job, friends and even a cat. Plus, after entering the hunting life, you didn’t want to bring it to them, it was far too dangerous.

But now things are different. You have Dean. And Sam. And you finally feel like you have found a second family. You have spent Christmas together, and although it wasn’t the most thematic celebration, you have enjoyed it like a child. Because after six years, you are not alone; you have someone who loves you and who wants to spend those special days with you.

You’re still nostalgic, though. You miss Spain, you miss your family, you miss your home.

“What’s on your mind?” Dean asks when he sees you lying in bed, looking at the ceiling, almost in trance.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter” you say, although it does matter. Christmas has been fun, really fun, and you don’t want to ruin it with your nostalgia and your longing.

“I know something’s in that pretty head of yours” he says as he makes his way to the bed. He then lays next to you, his arm behind your head. He smiles at you, that smile that you can’t deny anything to.

“I miss my family” you confess. It’s rare the times you talk about them “It still feels strange to celebrate Christmas without them”

“How long since you saw them for the last time?” he asks.

“Six years”

“Well, that’s a long time. It’s normal to feel like that” he says, rubbing your arm.

“Yeah, but I still feel… I don’t know, they probably miss me too, I just left them there and never came back”

“Hmm, we could always fly for New Year's Day, we still have time” he says. This surprises you, not only because Dean hates flying, but because of the nature of the offer.

You turn around so you’re half lying on top of him, your hand on his chest.

“You really mean that?”

“Of course, you deserve to spend that special day with your family” he says “I know you love these festivities, so it’s only fair to share them with the people you love”

You smile sweetly at him “I’m already spending them with the people I love”

He returns the smile and his hand travels to your cheek “You know what I mean, sweetheart. You deserve to meet them again, to spend that special day with them”

“But I don’t wanna bother you” you confess “It’s a very long flight, I know you hate flying. Plus, it’s a lot of work to do, a lot of preparations for just a few days”

“Don’t worry about me, I can handle it” he says softly “And we could stay there a few weeks, the monsters can wait”

You smile, hearing him really taking this seriously is making your heart all warm.

“I don’t even know if we could find tickets. We’ll have to leave tomorrow if we want to make it on time” you say, getting more comfortable with the idea.

“Leave that to me” he says.

You kiss his cheek and then rest your head on his shoulder. You feel his hand making small circles in your arm.

“Fine, but how are we gonna tell Sam? He’s not gonna be thrilled for a more than ten hours long fly”

“Oh? We’re taking Sam with us?” he says playfully.

“We’re not gonna leave him alone on New Year” you say, slapping his chest softly, also playful.

“Ouch” he fakes “Fine, we don’t leave him alone. I’ll tell him, leave it all to me, sweetheart. Just pack everything and be ready for tomorrow morning”

“I’ll be” you say softly “You really are a sweetheart, you know?”

“Oh, I know”

You hate seeing Dean in this situation, but well, he’s the one who put himself in it in the first place.

You’re on a plane, flying to Spain. And Dean hates planes, they make him anxious. He has his headphones on, listening to rock music to calm him down, but it’s not working, he’s all sweaty and nervous.

You sigh and hold his hand, rubbing it with your thumb. You take one of the earphone speakers and tell him:

“Why don’t we watch a movie? Maybe it would calm you down better. Or we can talk, distract yourself”

“Hmm, sure. A movie, fine” he says, erratic.

“C’mon, honey, we’re halfway through it, just a little more and we’ll be at land again. And in another continent, it would be fun, right?”

“Yeah, super fun”

You smile caringly and continue rubbing his hand “You’ll meet my family, doesn't that excite you?”

“Sweetheart, this is about calming me, not about me making me more nervous” he jokes.

You continue smiling at him, now with a light chuckle.

“Sorry, you’re right. But we’re gonna have fun, just wait and see” you can’t hide your excitement about meeting your family again.

He looks at you and sees the way you’re smiling, the way this excites you so much, and that’s what calms him down a bit. He tries to smile.

“What about that movie?” he asks, giving you one of the earphone speakers so you can listen to it together.

“I miss my baby” Dean complains as he drives the rented car through the city. After the plane, there’s still a few hours in the car to get to your home.

“C’mon, it’s just for a couple of days” you try to reason with him.

“I still feel like I’m betraying her” You and Sam can’t help but snort at that, he really is dramatic.

“It’s just a car, brother” Sam says, and you look at him with wide eyes, how could he?

“Just a car? Just a car?!”

“It’s not just a car, Sam” you try to calm the nerves “It’s… his baby”

“Yeah, listen to her, she knows what she’s saying” Dean says.

Sam scoffs and looks out the window with an amused smile.

“So, t/n, tell us about some Spanish traditions for New Years Eve” Sam says suddenly, intrigued.

“Have you heard about the grapes?”

“Yes” says Sam.

“No” says Dean.

“Well” you begin to explain “We eat a grape with each of the last twelve clock bells of the year, it’s said to bring luck for the new year”

“Twelve grapes in twelve seconds?” Dean scoffs “You Spaniards do have big mouths”

“Hey!” you protest playfully “It’s just the tradition here”

“I know, but it’s funny imagining you trying to fit twelve grapes in your mouth” he says, looking at you with a smile.

“Well, you’re now in Spain, so you’ll have to try it yourself” you challenge.

“Oh? Is that so?” he asks amused.

“Yeah” you laugh “Oh, and one thing I haven’t mentioned is that you’re gonna for sure enjoy the food. We have a tradition, at least at my hometown, not in the rest of the country, to eat roast food that day”

His mouth almost salivate at the thought “Hmm, what a good tradition”

“Yeah, right?” you laugh.

“Any more traditions we have to know about?” asks Sam from the back seat, eager to know.

“Not really. People celebrate it with their families until midnight, then they go partying, at clubs or bars” you answer “They usually throw fireworks, but I guess that’s a thing that we all share”

Sam nods and then yaws. It’s past 3 AM and you still have some time until you reach your hometown.

“You should sleep, Sam” you say, noticing his tiredness “I’ll keep the driver’s company”

He nods and rests his face in the door, trying to fall asleep.

“Talk to me about your family” says Dean after a few moments.

“Hmm, for beginners, don’t get scared, they’re pretty loud. We all Spaniards are”

“Oh, I’ve noticed that” he winks at you, and you hear Sam groaning in the back seat, embarrassed to be hearing about his brother’s sex life.

You both laugh at that.

“So… loud, hmm?”

“Yeah, we all shout a little bit. At moments you’re gonna think we’re fighting because of this, but it’s just us being ourselves”

He nods with a smile, and then he makes a face, worried.

“You think they’ll like me?”

“They’re gonna love you” you comfort him “You treat me well, that’s all they need”

“Yeah but… we are not going to be able to communicate, do they know English?”

You bit your lip “No. I grew up in a pretty poor family, most of them didn’t get to go to school, because they needed to work since young ages”

He nods, understanding “What about the young ones? Your cousins and your siblings?”

“They’re all too lazy to learn another language, even though it’s taught in school since we’re like 3” you scoff “I’m the only one who really cared about it”

“You’re kind of like the nerd in the family, hmm?” he jokes.

“They always make fun of me because of that, yeah” you laugh.

“They shouldn’t, it’s endearing” he reassures you.

“You only say that because you love me”

“Maybe” he reply with a smile.

“My mother is going to love you” you assure “She never got to meet Jake, but she loved him because he loved me”

He makes a face upon the hearing of your ex “What if she doesn’t? What if she thinks I’m too old, too messed up for you?”

“She’s gonna love you” you reassure you “She is the kindest woman you’ll ever meet. My father is also gonna love you, once he accept that I’m not just his girl anymore”

“You think so?”

“Yes, you actually have a lot in common once you think about it. He loves horror movies, but has a thing for dramatic movies in his heart. He loves rock music. Oh, and he loves driving”

“What car does he have?” he looks excited.

“I don’t know, you know I couldn’t name five car brands if it were a matter of life or death” you joke with a smile.

“Well, I’m gonna have a good conversation with him then. You’ll have to be our translator”

“Carefully, don’t fall in love with him”

He laughs at that “Oh, if he loves cars is gonna be hard”

You smile sweetly, loving hearing him laugh genuinely, without worries.

“What about your siblings?”

“Oh, my brother is gonna be hard. He’s always been a little protective over me, scared boys off when I was at high school” you laugh, remembering those old times.

He nods “Be careful with your brother, noted”

“My sister, on the other hand, is going to like you. She likes everyone”

“How is she?”

“The sweetest younger sister I could ask for, and also the most different from me. Think of any trait I have, well, she’s absolutely the contrary” you smile, you miss her the most “I always dragged her to the movies and begged her to play video games with me; she always dragged me to her obscure concerts and begged me to do makeup with her”

“Obscure concerts?” he says funnily.

“Oh yeah. You know, those bands that nobody knows, that play at bars that nobody visits” you laugh “She always dragged me to those, I never liked them, but came every time just to make her happy”

“You are a good sister”

“She is too” you assure.

He smiles at you briefly before turning his gaze towards the road again.

“Your family sounds amazing”

“They are amazing” you smile “Got on my nerves when I was a teen, but still amazing”

“Oh, you were a rebellious teen?” he asks mokinly.

“No, more of an emo one” you confess “But without the black clothes and the bad taste in music”

He scoffs at that “Talking about that, I’m dying to see the photos from when you were younger. I’m sure your mom would be thrilled to show them to me”

You whine “You really don’t have to see those”

“Oh, but I do, sweetheart, how could I live without seeing the little you in diapers?”

You spend the rest of the night in a motel, and the next morning, New Year’s Eve, you make your way to your home.

You had no time to warn your family you were coming, so it’s gonna be a surprising and teary reunion.

Once you are at the door, you bite your lip, nervous. You look back at the guys and both of them give you a comforting smile. You smile back and turn around to face the door.

You ring the bell. You hear noise inside the house, and the next thing you know, you’re face to face with your mother.

“Hola, mamá {Hi, mom}” you say with a bright smile. She doesn’t say anything, her face says everything. After a few seconds of shock, she makes her way to you and hugs you. She hugs you as strong as she can “Te he echado de menos {I’ve missed you}”

“Y yo a ti, cariño {Me too, darling}” then she separates from the hug and holds your face with both her hands “Estás guapísima, cielo {You’re so gorgeous, darling}”

Then she turns around and yells for your father to come. You smile remembering what you told Dean last night, about your family being loud.

“¿Qué? {What?}” he says, appearing at the door.

“Mira quien ha venido {Look who has come}” she says with a smile.

Your father looks past her and his eyes water at the sign of you. Your father has always been an emotional man.

“Cariño {Darling}” he whispers.

“Papá {Dad}” you say with a smile.

He comes, almost running, to your arms. You hug him tightly, after all, you haven’t seen him in six years.

“¿Qué haces aquí? No es que me queje {What are you doing here? Not that I’m complaining}” he says once you separate.

“Hemos venido a pasar la nochevieja con vosotros {We’ve come to celebrate New Year’s Eve with you}” you say excited.

“¿Hemos…? {We’ve?}” your mother starts asking, then she realizes in the presence of Dean and Sam “¿Quienes son, cariño? {Who are they, darling?}”

You take a step back towards them and hold Dean’s hand.

“Mamá, papá, este es Dean. El novio del que os he hablado {Mom, dad, this is Dean. The boyfriend I’ve told you about}” you say proudly “Y él es su hermano, Sam {And that’s his brother, Sam}”

Dean doesn't understand a word you’re saying, Sam is just understanding some words. But they both smile, knowing that you’re presenting them.

“Encantado {Nice to meet you}” says Sam, he has spent the whole flight learning Spanish words and phrases.

“Yeah, whatever he said” nods Dean with an awkward smile.

You scoff “Dice que encantado de conoceros también {He says nice to meet you too}” you translate.

Your father takes a step and shakes Dean’s hand with a nod and a meticulous look.

“Encantado {Nice to meet you}” he says and Dean continues smiling awkwardly.

“Pasad, pasad {come in, come in}” says suddenly your mother with a big smile, gesturing for the three of you to come into the house.

You nod and, still holding Dean’s hand, make your way to the house where you grew up in.

Away from vampires, demons and shape-shifters, that’s the most amazing day that you spend in a long time. Your mother makes lunch for all of you, and tells embarrassing stories that you have to translate to Dean and Sam. She also insists on showing them your photos from when you were small, to Dean amusement. You spend the day reconnecting with two of the people you care most about in this whole world, and love every second of it, especially since the person you love the most is present.

You and Sam help your mother prepare the dinner for that night, meanwhile Dean and your father have a (not) interesting conversation about cars thanks to google translator. They seem to be getting along pretty well.

You’re making stuffed eggs and preparing some starters. You will make the meat later, once everyone is here. You explain to Sam while you cook:

“In Spain starters are very important, even more important than the main food for some people”

You hear Dean chuckling in the background and smile for yourself, your mother, of course, notices it.

“¿De verdad te gusta ese chico, hmm? {You really like that guy, hmm?}” she asks with a confidential smile.

“Sí, yo… le amo, mamá {Yeah, I… love him, mom}” you clarify.

“Y él te ama a ti, lo noto {And he loves you too, I notice it}” she smiles kindly. Then she approaches you and puts one of her hands on your cheek “Estoy muy feliz por ti, y porque hayas venido {I’m so happy for you, and because you have come}”.

“Fue su idea, en realidad {It was his idea, in fact}” you smile.

“Es un buen hombre, yo noto esas cosas {He’s a good man, I notice those things}”

“Realmente lo es {He really is}”

Then you hear the bell ring.

“Probablemente es tu hermano {It’s probably your brother}” your mother says.

It is indeed your brother. You’re so happy to see him. He’s always been like a role model for you, he’s a doctor, you’re so proud of him. After a teary reconciliation with you, he finally meets Dean. He scans him from head to toe, you can sense Dean’s nervousness, despite being taller and bigger than your brother.

“Nice to meet you” says your brother with poor English and a nod.

“Yeah, nice to meet you too” he nods, swallowing “Nice jacket” he adds.

“Nice…” he gestures to Dean’s clothes, not knowing the name of it in English.

“Flannel” you scoff.

“Ah, nice flannel” your brother nods again.

That’s the most awkward conversation you have ever seen, but at least it’s over.

The presentation with your sister is much more… different. She hugs him and gives him two kisses on the cheeks, leaving him astonished and flustered.

You laugh at his expression and explain: “In Spain is very common to meet people by kissing both their cheeks”

“Tu novio es guapo {Your boyfriend is cute}” she says with a devilish smile. Dean, somehow, understands this and gets even more flustered.

“Aww, you’re getting all red” you say to him with a teasing smile.

“Shut up” he whispers and turns around.

You hug him from behind and laugh “You look cute”

The rest of the guests keep coming, and suddenly the house is filled with laughter and loud talks.

Sam has taken a liking to one of your cousins and you give him a wink while she’s not looking. He gives you one of his looks and goes back to talk to her in his poor Spanish and her poor English.

“Sam is having fun” you say absently.

“Hmm, me too” Dean hugs you from behind and kisses your cheek “Your family is really amazing, they’re very… unique”

“Unique indeed” you laugh and turn your head to give him a peck in the lips “I love you”

“I love you too, beautiful” he says with a soft smile.

You eat dinner pretty late in Spain, so you begin it at 10. Meanwhile you eat, your father and uncle prepare the fire to cook the meat. The conversations around the table are loud and funny, and you translate some of them to Dean in a whisper.

“They’re talking about when we were small” you translate to him “My mother is saying my brother and my sister were angels, but I was a devil in disguise when we were babies. Says I used to bite her when I got my teeth”

He can’t help but chuckle at that and as nobody can understand you he says teasing: “You’re still having that habit of biting, you know”

“Hmm, you’re too irresistible not to bite you” you add also with a teasing smile.

“Hmm, am I?” he asks with one of those smiles, one of those smiles than sends your stomach do cartwheels.

“Ey, ¿de qué habláis vosotros dos? {Hey, what are you two talking about?}” one of your cousins interrupts you.

“Solo le traduzco {Just translating him}” you lie.

“¿Ah, sí? No sabía que había que estar tan cerca de alguien para traducir {Ah, yeah? I didn’t know you had to be so close to someone to translate}” he laughs and the rest of the family laughs too, embarrassing you. You can’t help but notice the cousin who’s talking with Sam laughs too, so you make your come back:

“Eh, tú no te rías tanto {Eh, you don’t laugh too much}” that makes the family laugh again, and Dean and Sam share a look, not understanding anything.

The dinner continues like this, between teasing, jokes and laughter. The dessert arrives, and with that sweets that Dean has never seen.

“Those are ‘mantecados’, they’re delicious. Although don’t abuse them, they’re full of fats” you explain to him when he takes a bite.

“They’re indeed delicious”

“Better than pie?”

“Never”

Without even realizing, the moment of eating the grapes arrives. Each one of you takes twelve grapes on their plates and looks excitedly at the TV, where the ring bells will sound live from ‘Puerta del Sol’.

“First we’ll hear the quarters, then, in the last twelve bell rings, we eat the grapes” you explain “They don’t have seeds, so you don’t have to worry about choking” you add.

He smiles at you and looks with excitement at the TV, where the presenters are talking. You can’t help but admire his pretty profile.

Finally, it is time. You start to eat the grapes, some of you laughing, some of you almost choking. At the end, only some of the older ones weren’t able to end all their grapes.

Dean looks at you and smile “Happy New Year, sweetheart”

“Happy New Year, Dean” you say and kiss him, the sweet taste of the grapes still lingering in your lips.

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chikokevo-music · 1 year

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#YouTube #Bigroom House #Progressive House #Trance #ASOT #EDM Festival #Mainstage Music #a state of trance #in a state of trance

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haeresysabound · 6 months

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Seeing @sodalitea's Sabzerus Festival Dottore reminded me of an entirely self-indulgent headcanon I came up with some time ago, but never actually got the chance to share.

Imagine, if you will, that post-Irminsul purification, dancing thrives throughout Sumeru's history. It is such a huge part of their culture, in fact, that dancing even makes its way into the Akademiya as a method of meditation. After all, dancing is used to honour Kusanali and celebrate her Wisdom.

In dancing, Sumerians allow their bodies to separate from their conscious mind by losing themselves in the flow of the music and the familiarity of the steps. With their bodies conducted in this manner, they no longer need to worry about the basic, underlying functions that take up quite so much of their mental faculties. Instead, they are able to let their minds wander; to contemplate their theses without distraction, to unlock the true depth of their Knowledge and access the whole element of Dendro for its Wisdom.

In their belief, they are as close to Kusanali in these moments as when she actively walks among them - closer, even, as it is almost like accessing fragments of that imaginary state in their dreams that contains their most powerful and influential discoveries. It is her divine energy that allows them to separate mind from body without dissociating from themselves entirely, without drawing themselves abruptly back until their solutions have been found.

So, naturally, most Sumerians do this when they've hit a roadblock in their research and are in desperate need of a fresh perspective or new inspiration.

When studying inside the Akademiya, it isn't unusual to see a fellow student abruptly stand up, access a side-room dedicated entirely to this practice, and dance for minutes on end before jolting, abruptly, from their trance, only to come rushing back in again with trembling fingers eagerly grasping for parchment and quill.

It's considered so vital, in fact, that the Akademiya has official classes to teach the method to foreign students. Sumerian students will even take it upon themselves to teach their classmates should they clearly be struggling to grasp the dances. It becomes as ingrained within them as it is within the native Sumerians themselves, and even once they've completed their studies and returned to their home nations, it's not uncommon to see them continuing the practice with startling regularity.

Which does lead me to the culmination of this piece (because this was never not going to be about him):

Dottore, alone in his laboratory, slowly dancing to a melody he hums to himself, trying desperately to return to the trance he once knew as a student, seeking that hit of inspiration for a breakthrough he's been on the verge of for months and months. But Dendro does not reach him in his godless abode, and he does not find himself slipping away from his body into the warm embrace of Kusanali's limitless Knowledge. Still, he dances. He dances for the God he forsook; dances in her honour when he has none. Sumerian blood runs through his veins, regardless of how frequently he flushes them out.

#dottore #genshin impact #haeresysrambles

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adore-laur · 6 months

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FRUITCAKE

— a new year’s addition to southpaw 🎆

——

The sparkler in Sawyer's hand burns out with a lackluster fizzle, just like the end of another year. Staring at the Orlando skyline, everyone, including the twinkling stars above, is out celebrating tonight. Free spirits roam the streets across the centerpiece lake with liquor-infused veins and festive accessories decorating their faces. Straight ahead, each apartment complex window is lit with strobe lights in various colors and a mixture of music booming in each square.

From where Sawyer stands on an unfamiliar balcony, she is just a spectator on the sidelines. She isn't that much of a social butterfly. Parties of any kind are where her fragile wings curl inward, shy and shielding her from a potentially awkward state of affairs. Dressing up is the only reason she agreed to attend the New Year's Eve celebration at some high school acquaintance's studio apartment. Harry, too, she supposes. He's her date tonight. However, mingling comes much easier to him, so he's probably inside having more fun than she is.

His wrist has just about healed, thanks to the time he's been dedicating to physical therapy. Sawyer has been by his side every day, taking care of him and loving the new way they can be around each other since that stormy night outside 7/11 four months ago. It's been challenging keeping up with his bustling life as a professional baseball player and trying to balance her job with how often he travels, but it all proves to be worth it when she feels giddiness course through her veins whenever she's near him.

Harry is the sole reason why Sawyer looks forward to waking up in the morning. The rays of light that shimmer through her bedroom curtains are nothing compared to when she sees the smile on his face, topped with two dimples that make a home for the sun. A sleepy smile when he picks her up and drives her to work bright and early, always with two McDonald's hash browns and a large orange juice to share in his cup holder. A childlike smile when he holds her hand while strolling through the city, swinging their arms as he points at different houses he would like to live in. Her favorite is a radiant smile when she visits him at practice, and he spots her sitting in the scout seats. He always jogs over to her in his dirt-stained uniform and leans past the barrier to kiss her hello, leaving her with a lingering taste of Bazooka bubblegum. She really likes it when he kisses her.

To put it in celestially simple terms, she's over the moon in love with her sunray.

As the party inside rages on, Sawyer sighs between her chattering teeth. Orlando gets nippy at night, and all she wants to do is fall asleep under a nice, warm blanket. Or against Harry's chest. It's hard as a rock, but she doesn't mind since his hands and lips make up for it.

"Southpaw's not out here with you? Bummer."

The hauntingly familiar voice makes Sawyer jolt out of her lovesick trance, a sudden feeling of unease twisting her stomach into a knot. It belongs to her ex-boyfriend, the one who decided to cheat on her behind her back. She had seen him walk in with his buddies and managed to ignore him... until now.

"Leave me alone, Jordan," she calls out monotonously without turning around to see his smug face.

"You got all dolled up, and your boyfriend isn't even paying attention to you," he says mockingly, his voice and footsteps getting closer.

"Go away."

"Are you two a thing now?" he presses like an interrogator.

Ugh! The audacity to ask such a thing! Sawyer turns to face him and brazenly replies, "That's totally none of your business."

Jordan removes his tattered trucker hat, ruffles his hair, and then puts it back on. "I think it is my business, considering you basically left me for him. You moved on fast."

She laughs to herself. "You're so delusional. Take the hint."

"Whatever," he says dismissively. His dilated eyes grossly run up and down her body. "You dress sluttier now."

Sawyer feels like she just got punched in the gut. It's one thing to hear him insinuate that she changed herself now that she's dating Harry, but it's another thing entirely to be degraded by someone she used to have idle respect for. An unsettling fusion of frustration and embarrassment seeps into the open wounds of her wings. Nevertheless, she puts on a brave face.

"Don't make me get Harry," she says with the most threatening tone she can muster up, "otherwise you'll be leaving here with a black eye."

"All right, all right." Jordan backs away, holding both hands high in surrender like a wimp. "Just don't get your dainty little heart broken."

"Screw you."

He doesn't reply and just gives her one last taunting look before sliding the squeaky patio door open to head back inside. Sawyer crosses her arms defensively and swallows down the burning lump in her throat. She's miserably cold, so she begins to cry. Not a sob, but a puny noise that gets stuck on the way out of her mouth and causes tears to fall past her bottom lashes. She knows wholeheartedly that she shouldn't let Jordan get under her skin. The flippant remarks he spewed are irrelevant and don't deserve to make her sensitive side come out of hiding. His words still hurt, though. Her confidence when she arrived has been completely demolished because of a stupid boy she once knew.

After ten minutes, the patio door opens again, and Sawyer hastily wipes away her tears with the back of her hand. Maybe she should just go back inside and find something to distract her; maybe join in on a lousy game of beer pong in the kitchen or find the television so she can watch Boyz II Men perform on Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve.

Looking up, she sees Harry standing in all his exuberant glory, wearing a cozy brown sweater and his trusty corduroy cap. He's also holding a plate with fruitcake on it. She doesn't have the energy nor interest to ask where he got it and why he has it.

"There's my girlfriend," he says happily, one hand casually perched on the doorframe. "You and me, let's go. They have Heart queued up for karaoke; we're doing "Alone.""

Sawyer wraps her arms around her shivering body. "I don't wanna sing right now," she says, trying to mask the glumness in her voice.

"Why not?" he asks as he walks toward her. "It's our song. Or we could get crazy and do "Barracuda." Or I could ask for "Suddenly, Seymour," if that's more your speed."

"No thanks."

"C'mon," Harry begs, setting the plate on a nearby table and embracing her in his strong arms. He tilts his cap up to smack a few warm kisses on her cheek, then murmurs, "I need you for the harmonies."

"You can do all the parts." He's a decent singer, surprisingly. "I believe in you."

He huffs and starts playing with her fingers, twisting her rings and rubbing his thumb over her glittery nail polish. "Please?"

In her pretty dress and tiara, Sawyer tilts her head and looks at him with big brown eyes that never fail to weaken him. She knows what she's doing—she's been doing it to him for years.

Harry immediately shields his face and says, "Don't give me those eyes."

"Give you what eyes?" she asks innocently.

"Sawyer Alejandra," he says as a warning.

She stomps her foot and cranes her neck back. "Do not use my middle name."

Smirking, he cradles the back of her head to tilt it forward again. "You stomping your foot only makes me want to kiss you. Stop being stubborn and tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing. I just want to go home."

"It's not even midnight yet. Did something happen?"

"No..."

"It's endearing how bad of a liar you are." His inquisitive gaze travels around her face, stopping at the slight wetness visible under her eyes. "Hey," he says softly. "Have you been crying? Why are we crying, baby?"

Sawyer sniffles and stares at the ground. "Is my outfit too much?"

The crème satin dress with a pleated bust outlined in gold flows elegantly down her body just the way she likes it. The tiara on her head arches with glimmering silver beads, an accessory she was so excited to wear. In the full-length mirror at her house, it seemed like the perfect outfit. Now, she's second-guessing it all because of Jordan's imprudent comment.

"Why? You look like an angel," Harry says while drying her leftover sadness with the sleeve of his sweater. "I almost didn't let us walk out the door, remember? We were kissing until we got dizzy."

She quirks her lips to the side and chews on the inside of her cheek. After a moment of insecure contemplation, she quietly asks, "Am I too much?"

He smooths out her eyebrows, his own becoming furrowed. The warmth and gentle caress of his calloused fingertips give her a sense of safety. "What brainless birdie is pecking nonsense into my girlfriend's head?"

"Jordan," she says with a wince. "Um, he came out here and tried to talk to me."

Sawyer braces for impact since his name has always been a touchy subject around Harry. She still remembers the time she told him the news about Jordan cheating. It was almost scary the way he was so willing to throw a screwball at him with a broken wrist. He might have been joking, but she fears he would have done something marginally worse if she hadn't persuaded him to leave it be. Karma probably unleashed her wrath anyway.

"What did he say to you," Harry says, jerking his chin up. It's not a question; it's a demand.

There's no way he's going to let her wriggle her way out of this one, so she truthfully relays, "He told me I dressed sluttier now."

Another brace for impact. Sawyer racks her mind for ways to restrain him if he moves to go find him. Judging by the size of her arms compared to his, she highly doubts she'd succeed.

"Which way did he go?" he asks in a calmer tone. His hand moves to her hip and flexes, almost as comfort for her and a way to suppress anger for himself.

"Please don't cause a scene," she says hurriedly. "The year doesn't need to end in a fist fight. Or another wrist injury."

Harry doesn't listen and glances behind his shoulder. "Do you want me to get him, or do you want to?" he asks through a tightened jaw.

"I think doing neither is the smartest choice."

Looking back at her in bewilderment, he says, "That dumbass made you cry, Sawyer."

"I cry all the time!"

"Yeah, over puppies," he stresses with flailing hand gestures, "and The Golden Girls. This is something serious that clearly made you upset!"

Sawyer scoffs. "Excuse me, The Golden Girls is very serious."

"That's wonderful, babe, but you need to listen to me." He points at himself. "I'm pissed, so what I'm gonna do is go get Jordan and have a civil conversation with him, 'kay?"

"Can I try my very hardest to convince you otherwise?"

Harry starts backing away, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "If you use those eyes on me again, we're going straight home, and you'll be in big trouble."

"I would actually love to go home right now."

He pokes his Shirley Temple-stained tongue out on his way to the door. Just as he's about to turn around, he stops and begins walking forward. He reaches behind his neck to remove his knitted sweater, then gently tosses it to her. "I thought I told you to bring a coat, Sawyer," he says before retreating inside.

The graphic tee she gets a glimpse of fits him well — a little too well — and the thin silver necklace he wears briefly catches in the light, the 'S' pendant he's had for years. He always teases her and says he got it because his last name is Styles. Sawyer smiles at the thought and absentmindedly toys with the 'H' pendant around her neck. She then puts on his sweater and lets his leftover warmth engulf her. It smells like his house, his cologne, his sheets--just him. It consumes her in an overwhelmingly beautiful way.

Harry is gone for no longer than a minute when he comes out again, this time with Jordan trailing behind him like a dog with its tail between its legs. He guides her to a chair and pulls her down on his lap, taking his cap off and sticking it in his pocket like always. Some curls fall over his forehead, and it makes her heart squeeze.

With one tattooed arm winding around her waist and the other holding his ankle propped on his thigh, Harry starts the conversation with a casual, "Long time no see, Jordan."

"Styles." His eyes narrow and shift over. "Sawyer."

"I heard you two already had a chat out here."

He uncomfortably readjusts his footing. "Yeah, we bumped into each other."

"Oh, did you?" Harry asks sarcastically. "You know, you're digging yourself a deeper hole by lying."

"I'm not lying," Jordan replies with too much confidence.

Harry laughs in amusement. "That's funny." Sitting up a bit, he tightens his hold on Sawyer. "I suggest you tell the truth and tell me exactly what you said to her."

"Dude, it's not that big of a deal."

"It is when my girlfriend is involved."

Jordan scoffs and looks around incredulously. "Well, maybe if you were out here with her instead of ignoring—"

"You fuckin' cheated on her, mate, don't tell me—"

"Stop it!" Sawyer blurts, stressfully swiping a hand over her forehead. "Both of you, just stop."

Harry takes a deep breath and cracks his neck. "I want you to apologize," he continues more calmly, "and if you're not willing to do that, then I'd be more than happy to have a little chat with you myself."

Jordan's hesitant body language speaks for itself. He knows not to mess with him. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"Sorry for what?" Harry asks.

"For saying—"

"Speak to her, not me."

Jordan grinds his teeth, making awkward eye contact with Sawyer. "I'm sorry I said that you dressed sluttier now. You... look great. You look happy."

"Thanks," Sawyer mutters while picking at her chipped nail polish.

"See?" Harry says, flipping his palms up. "That's all we needed."

"Can I go now?"

"Sure thing, bud. One last thing: I never want to see your face again or hear that you've been talking to my girlfriend, got it?"

"Jeez, chill out. Happy fucking New Year."

With that, he removes himself from the interaction with a drunken peace sign. The thick tension in the air disperses, and Sawyer releases the breath she'd been holding while curling into Harry's chest.

"Boys are so exhausting."

Harry hums, lightly scratching her back. "You're not wrong."

"Not you, though." She kisses his jaw and then scans the balcony. "Hey, is there a reason why you brought an entire fruitcake out here?"

"Oh, it's— I, uh," he stammers, his shoulders slumping. "I forget."

Sawyer cradles his cheeks and giggles fondly. "You make me laugh, sunray."

His skin grows warmly rubescent under her touch. "I burn brighter when I'm around you. How could I not when I get to hear that laugh?"

She plummets deeper in love, a straight drop into daylong devotion. "My sunray."

"Forever." Harry goes off into his own world for a bit. After studying his surroundings, his face suddenly lights up like he mentally stumbled upon some profound epiphany. "Wait, listen to this. You asked me if you're too much, yeah?" He nods to where the dessert he brought out sits. "You're like that fruitcake. On the outside, people who don't know you assume things about your character, like how people judge fruitcake by its appearance. They say it doesn't look tempting before they even try it. But on the inside" — he gently pokes where her heart is — "there are all these delightful little fruits that make up who you are. They take people by surprise."

Sawyer hides her face in his neck. "That was a really stupid analogy."

"You were so about to smile," Harry says, giving her a playful noogie. "I can tell."

She slaps his hand away. "Ow! I was not."

"Were too."

A sudden boom interrupts their harmless bickering as fireworks begin shooting off in the sky, making Harry instinctively pull Sawyer closer due to the startling noise. They both turn their attention past the balcony railing and admire the colorful, celebratory explosions. They burst and crepitate amongst the stars, grandly signifying the start of a new year. She was so enamored by Harry that she didn't even hear the partygoers chanting the countdown inside.

"It's 1992," Harry says in her ear. Over the thunderous noise, his voice sounds like a deep rumble, but it's still comprehensible to her since she's tuned into him constantly.

Sawyer turns her head to find him already staring at her. She smiles. "Happy New Year."

"Our first year as a couple," he says as he fixes her crooked tiara.

Shyly averting her gaze, she whispers, "Yeah, it is." It's probably impossible to hear.

"Can I kiss you?"

"You don't have to ask, Harry."

"I know." The fireworks look mesmerizing in the reflection of his pupils. "It's just that you get so nervous. I want to make sure you're comfortable since our dynamic has changed."

Sawyer passes a hand over his stomach and hooks her pointer finger in one of his belt loops. "I'm always comfortable around you. Besides, nothing has changed too much, has it?"

"No, I suppose not." He smirks and glances at her lips. “Except we kiss now, which is super cool."

She scrunches her nose. "You're silly."

"In all seriousness," he says with a squeeze to her hip, "take however long you need to warm up to this whole thing. I can be patient for you."

"I'll get there."

"I know. I know you will. We're dating now, but that doesn't stop you from still being my best friend."

Sawyer rests her forehead against his. "I love you," she mouths over the sounds of revelry in the sky.

"In what way?" Harry mouths back.

Beaming, she speaks up loud and clear. "In a way that makes me want to kiss you all the time."

His eyes close for a second before he replies, "You can't say things like that. Shit, you're making my heart go crazy right now."

She places her palm on his thumping heartbeat. "Then kiss me, summerboy."

"Mm. Once I start, I won't be able to stop."

"That's fine by me."

Harry nudges his nose with hers before diving in, capturing her lips with a slight clashing of teeth. Deep and slow, he lets each one linger while guiding her face with one hand. He's a face-grabber when he kisses, and it makes her entire body shudder. She can taste the maraschino cherries he always eats first before sipping his virgin cocktail. Sour and a little bit sweet, something she can never get enough of.

He eventually pulls away with a soft pop. Over the past few months, he's gotten quite acquainted with Sawyer's mouth by kissing her like he's making up for every time he wanted to but couldn't. "I love you so much." Kiss. "And I'm obsessed with you." Kiss. "And I could look at you forever."

Sawyer gets her own kisses in, three smacks in a row that make him hum blissfully during each one. "You'd get bored of my face," she replies breathlessly.

"I would absolutely not." He twirls a strand of her golden hair and stares at her attentively. "Your eyes are such a dark brown, but they still light up when you smile or laugh. I fuckin' love it when they do that. You're my brown-eyed honey angel."

"Do not start complimenting me."

"God, and when I first met you on the beach" — Harry looks off into the distance and shakes his head slowly — "I thought you were so pretty. Like, it blew my mind how someone could be that pretty."

Sawyer presses her fingers against his swollen lips. "Literally shut up, Harry."

"Then I heard your voice, sweet and soft like a songbird." He's giggling through his words now, but they still come out with complete sincerity. "My heart made room for yours right then and there. I was a goner."

She blushes profusely. "Stop it, or I'll push you off this balcony."

"Then you almost gave me a concussion, but I feel like that was fate. You made me dizzy then, and you make me dizzy now."

"Enough!"

"I'm going to love you for a lifetime, Sawyer," Harry confesses candidly. “I hope you know that. You could push me off this balcony, and I'd still follow you to the end of the earth."

"That's oddly romantic, but let's love each other through 1992 first," she tells him, patting his dimpled cheek. "Okay?"

"Whatever you want, fruitcake."

She laughs and shoves his firm chest. "Your nicknames for me suck!"

He steals another kiss, smiling into it. "See what I mean? That laugh lights me up. And hey, fruitcake is a better nickname than shortstop, right?"

"I guess," Sawyer mutters, "but I… I really like it when you call me baby." The last portion is whispered quickly and sheepishly, yet the gleam in her boyfriend's eyes tells her he heard it all.

"Yeah, baby?" Harry murmurs with a satisfied groan as he readjusts her in his lap. “You gotta stop saying things like that. It's got me going weak in the knees." Sawyer bites her lip, causing him to lull his head to the side and clutch where his heart is. “God, everything you do makes me want to kiss you for hours."

So they do. Not for hours, but long enough for the fireworks to fade out and the party inside to die down with remnants of confetti and glitter on the ground. Under the stars, they kiss until they become dizzy with love and secret exchanges of words they have yearned to say to each other for so long. Just the two of them on a random balcony, falling deeper and deeper in love with each other until it's time to go home.

They shine too brightly to be dimmed.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles x oc #harry styles #adore-laur #southpaw #fruitcake

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sailtomarina · 1 year

Text

Will it fit?

Hermione stood in front of the mirror nervously smoothing the pleats of her dress, a floaty, ephemeral thing hitting just above the knees that Luna insisted appropriately fit the pagan holiday. Hermione had never been one for celebrating anything aside from birthdays, Christmas, and New Year’s, but ever since entering the Wizarding world she found herself on a treadmill of festivals and holidays almost every month of the year. This time, it was Ēostre, or Ostara, or Easter, whatever you preferred to call it. It was one of a handful of celebrations of spring.

This year, rather than celebrating at one another’s homes like usual, their friends had opted to sign up for the Ministry-sponsored event. Guests were invited to frolic in fields and plant literal seeds for harvesting produce later in the season. A feast would follow that same evening under the ceiling of the night sky. It all seemed terribly whimsical and romantic, and normally Hermione would be excited if not for one more pesky detail.

In addition to the event signup was an optional service: matchmaking. And of course, her friends scribbled her name down for both.

So what if it had been months since her last romantic relationship? She was perfectly pleased with her life at the moment. Her days consisted of work, meals, reading, and evening walks. She even included socialization with semi-weekly trivia at the Leaky Cauldron and Flourish and Blotts’ monthly book club meetings.

It was with irritation and swiftly growing horror that Hermione discovered not only was she to attend the silly Ēostre event, and she would do so with a blind date. Pairs were provided with thin golden arm bands that slipped over the elbow and twinkled with a color matching only one other. Hermione’s armlet sparkled white gold.

“Does it fit?” Luna’s head poked into the washroom where she continued to examine herself.

Gesturing to the band that magically sized to fit snugly around her bicep, Hermione nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. Let’s hope whoever I end up with fits just as well.”

“Oh, you needn’t worry about that. The matches include compatibility charms,” chirped Luna, as she braided small white blossoms into Hermione’s curls.

“Compatibility…charms? Is that even legal?”

She tittered as she waved a wand over her handiwork, ensuring Hermione’s hair and makeup would stay in place for several hours. “Yes. It doesn't affect your choices or anything sinister like that. Just points you in a promising direction and lets you figure out the rest.”

“Hmph. Well I suppose I could use the help given my poor choice in partners.”

“Your last one wasn’t that bad, Hermione, and Oliver was definitely worth the time.” Hermione blushed at Luna’s knowing wink. Oliver certainly did give her some delicious memories, and their breakup was friendly enough given the circumstances. “No more dilly-dallying! It’s time to go.”

Slipping on a pair of leather Grecian sandals and taking one more peek in the mirror, Hermione took a deep breath and tried to smile. Compatible sounded like a good thing, didn’t it?

***

“Oh, my god.”

Draco Malfoy stood frozen in front of her in a similar state of shock. An identical arm band fit around his arm. He cut a fine figure, if she was being honest with herself, in his cerulean chinos and tailored white oxford, sleeves rolled up to bare his muscled forearms with prominent veins cording the length of them. Shaking his head as if waking himself from a trance, he stepped closer to wave his hand over her arm. The resulting pulse of light confirmed their suspicions.

“Uh…” Could she be any less dull-witted? Where were the words that usually flowed out of her mouth like a bloody flood? Her mouth clicked shut—hanging open earlier like an imbecile—when he lifted his elbow to offer an escort.

“You look lovely, Hermione. It would be my pleasure to accompany you.”

Her tongue loosened at last. “Malf—Draco. What a…pleasant surprise.”

He smirked at her obvious difficulty at pleasantries.

“I would have never expected you of all people to require matchmaking.”

“Yes, well, I suspect we both have well meaning, meddlesome friends.”

She had to share a smile at that.

It wasn’t that she loathed Draco Malfoy. Quite far from it, actually. She had definitely noticed him over the years as their circles occasionally bumped and overlapped. First it was the occasional work collaboration, then it was friends dating. The formerly thin and haunted young man filled out, his eyes lightening and gaining confidence. He was now the object of many a glance when circumstances threw them together, and even a friendly word now and then.

She just couldn’t fathom any dimension where he’d be interested in dating her, and she’d rather bite her tongue off than admit to fancying his appallingly good looks.

Damn Luna.

“Shall we go pick our seeds?” He guided them towards the tables where others gathered.

“Not quite done sowing your oats?”

Why in Godric’s name did she have to be so nasty?

Rather than getting insulted, he surprised her by chuckling softly. “Long past that stage of my life—does that disappoint you?”

He picked up a small basket and guided them towards the root vegetable section.

“So are you actually looking to settle down? Find the next Lady Malfoy?” Hermione snagged parsnip seeds, to which he nodded approvingly.

“I’m strongly considering it.”

“I’m not exactly Malfoy material.”

“I know.”

Turnips made their way into the basket. She licked her lips imagining sharp bites of the taproot in a bed of arugula and prosciutto. She couldn’t find any fault in his chosen produce. If anything, they’d make a fantastic salad together.

“But you’re my preferred material.”

Jerking to a stop, she looked fully up into his eyes for the first time. He gazed back, not a hint of humor on his face. He was serious.

She could barely breathe the question shouting against her skull. “Since when?”

He reached forward with one hand to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear before running his fingertips down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Grasping her hand in his, he prompted her to resume walking out towards the fields.

“For longer than I’d care to admit right now.” He didn’t elaborate, and Hermione found herself utterly devoid of any courage for further inquiry.

Following the rows of carefully labeled signs, they made their way silently to the appropriate section to cast their seeds out into the dirt, where they magically burrowed into the earth.

“Well that was much easier than expected,” he mused, glancing around to watch as others similarly finished.

“It’s more symbolic than literal planting, isn’t it? No digging into the dirt by hand here.”

Appraising her form with an appreciative eye that resulted in a pretty flush, he responded, “And a good thing, too, given our attire.”

She snorted in agreement. “I don’t know what Luna was thinking, picking this dress out.”

“Probably what I’m thinking right now. I meant what I said earlier, Hermione. You are lovely.”

She couldn’t take it anymore. Where did he get off being so…charming? So complimentary and intriguing? With a scoff, she pushed him back a step, her palms flat against his chest.

“Stop it, Malfoy. You don’t have to force yourself to be nice just because we were coincidentally matched together.”

Warm hands grasped her wrists, gently holding them in place.

“I’m not forcing anything. And even if neither one of us were signed up for today, I would’ve asked you out on my own soon anyways.”

There he went grabbing her attention again. It felt like rather than her wrists he was holding, it was her heart in a tight fist.

“All these years I've always wondered why I’m constantly drawn to you. Why I started out unable to stop teasing you, saying anything that came to mind to catch your attention. Stupid things. Regrettable things.”

“So stupid.” Her soft interjection pulled a wry smile from him in the middle of his speech.

“And after all the shite, the war, the trials, the slog of adulthood, I realized something.”

She could barely breathe listening to his words.

“I like you. I more than like you. I want to get to know you. See if we fit together as much as I think we will.”

Standing in the middle of a field, an uncharacteristic British sun beating down on them and people milling all around casting seeds in the hopes they’d take hold and grow into more, Hermione’s breath came back all at once. Pulling one hand loose from his grip, she returned his favor from earlier and brushed a silken strand of platinum hair off his forehead.

“I think we will, too.”

Or perhaps it wasn’t the sun that shone so brightly, but Draco himself as he smiled wider than she’d ever seen before.

#dramione prompt #dramione #draco malfoy x hermione granger #draco malfoy #hermione granger #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter flashfic #luna lovegood

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bunny-atsunset · 1 year

Note

hello, this may be a bit...odd...but can I request a Leona x afab bunny reader NSFW scenario of him comforting them while they are on their period? Maybe they are a bit embarrassed about it and need some...uh loving. thank youuuu🐇

[Leona x GN afab Bunny!Reader on their Period] N S F W

Content Warning: 18+, Periods, Blood, Breast Play, Penetration, Creampie, Reader is afab but GN, 2k A/N: I tried my best! It got a little longer than I intended but I hope you enjoy bunny anon!

You had been feeling bloated and achy all day as fresh rain pitter-pattered against your window. After classes, you went straight to your bed. As you lay on your side you burrowed yourself in blankets and surrounded yourself with pillows and your small collection of plushies, mostly gifts from friends. Honestly, you didn’t really have any …accommodations, and going out in the rain just didn’t seem worth it. You weren’t even sure if the school store would have what you needed. So, you chose to sacrifice a pair of your old underwear instead.

“Hnggggg.” You hugged your chubby orange lion plush to your chest, it was the one Leona had won for you at one of the festivals on Sage’s Island. You were a bit surprised he even bothered that night, but it made you laugh right? At that, he told you it was worth it. Curling up into a ball, you lamented the higher powers, the medicine you took earlier not quite enough to take all the pain that pulsed in your abdomen.

You were so distracted by all this that you hadn’t even heard the creak of your bedroom door until it was too late. This made you gasp, sitting up from your sleepy trance, and tossing the blanket off. Your soft bunny ears flicked up in alertness, and your nose twitched at the new familiar smell.

“Bun?” It was none other than your grumpy lion, he closed the door behind him before laying his head back against the wall, his brown ears flicking toward you. Leona was a beastman and there was no way he didn't know. “L-Leona! W-what the hell are you doing here?” Your face flushed at your vulnerable state as you pressed the chubby lion plush further onto your lap, hiding your shame and the fact you weren't wearing pants.

He chuckled a little, wondering why you were bothering to be so coy about it and try to hide from him. Nothing really phased your logical mate and he seemed to ignore your panic. “You alright, Bun? I saw how you…scurried off after your last class.” He retorted nonchalantly. So, he wanted to make sure you were okay. “Ya barely touched your food today too… Not like my bun to not have a big appetite.” He grinned cheekily, lifting his hand in the air.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine! I just don’t feel good, Lion.” You rolled your eyes at him, a bit of whine in your voice, waving him off. “Go away!” You scowled, choking the neck of your poor plush when your eyes widened. You felt it, a bit of wetness between your legs, staining your inner thighs and pooling onto your clean sheets. “Oh, no-” You stood up, looking down at the mess you made.

“Dammit-!” You turned and balled up your old thrifted sheets in your fists, eyes burning. You knew it was gonna stain no matter if you dealt with it now or later, and you didn’t have the funds to replace them right now. You felt a bit silly but held it together, laying your pouting face on the head of your lion plushie as you plopped back down defeatedly. “...Why are you still here? Just take a picture, it will last longer…” You poked your lips at him, large ears laying flat over the top of your head. This was a telltale sign you were not to be trifled with.

Leona chuckled a bit as he sat down next to you, much to your dismay. “My poor bun…” His voice was dripping in his usual condescension, but you could sense that he at least meant it. “Eh, don’t worry about the sheets…how ‘bout I just get ya a new set, hm?” He shrugged, but still kept that irritating smugness to his tone.

“Hmph.” You pouted, lifting your nose in the air, your fluffy tail twitching indignantly behind you. “That’s not the point. I just feel…gross.” You emphasized to him, pulling your oversized shirt over your knees, and tugging at one of the ears of the fuzzy stuffed animal in your lap. The toy was currently taking the brunt of your irritation toward your partner. It was quiet for a bit as you mustered the energy to get up and go clean yourself when Leona made a sound in his throat.

The lion sighed at your dramatics, rolling his eyes, “Awe, well don't.” His voice lowered, and he lounged back across the foot of your small bed. “Is a perfectly natural thing. Don’t bother me any.” The lion’s lids lowered over his green eyes. “...What can I do to make my bun feel better?” A small smile etched on his face and he cocked his head back to watch you closely. “Hm?”

It was more of a pondering than a question, but you answered him anyway. “I don't know.” You scoffed, crossing your arms. You knew you were being way more childish than usual, but you had earned it in your eyes. Another cramp came up to bite you in the ass causing you to slump forward. “Ughhh.” You clawed at your midsection miserably, waiting for it to pass.

“Hmm,” He muttered thoughtfully, a small wrinkle in his brow as he watched his poor mate suffer. The lion got that look in his eyes like when he played chess; he was thinking of all the options and was gonna solve your problem for you. “Well… maybe there's a way ‘ta…counteract the pain.”

“Huh?” You swallowed at the sudden gleam in his emerald eyes. He got up in one fluid movement and came before you, slipping your plushie from your arms, and tossing it aside. ”How about…the real thing instead?” He smirked, coming toward you and bumping his forehead against yours.

“What?” You snorted.”You jealous, Lion?” You teased him and lifted your brows as he crawled over you, causing you to fall back onto the soft bed. Almost immediately he was at your neck, one of his favorite places, moving your stray hairs out of the way and kissing the soft skin there. “Mmm, maybe.” He confessed near your ear, his warm breath causing you to shiver. Your heart began to race at his sudden gentleness, you didn’t feel particularly attractive right now: bloated, in your old shirt. Still, he looked at you like you were royalty.

“Can I…see, Bunny?” He asked, knowing just how to lower his tone to get on your good side. “Huh? Right now?” Your ears shot up and you curled up your nose at him. “B-but I haven’t got a chance to clean up…” Your cheeks tingled when he only nodded again. You guessed you didn’t see the harm, sliding up your oversized nightshirt to reveal your stained underwear to him, as well as the spot below you on the sheets. “I’m so stupid...” You breathed, holding up your top. “I should have known it was coming and saved some money for-”

Leona hissed as he brought fingers over your sides, petting your love handles. “Hey, you ain’t stupid.” He began nudging up your shirt even more, taking a peek at the bottom of your chest. “C’mon don’t tease your Lion now...I wanna see more of you,” He whispered, and after you nodded he rolled the fabric up to free your bare and swollen breasts.

Your breath caught as his hands wandered upward over your soft skin, rubbing your belly, the lion’s kneading taking the edge off your pain. You bit your lip at the way he looked over your half-naked body in pure rapture, tongue flicking against his lip a few times. “Perfect…” He shifted so he laid between your open legs, chin pressed into your lower belly. You had to admit, the pressure and extra heat over top of you felt…nice.

The man had no fear of getting anything on him as he laid his face over your tummy, rubbing his hot cheek against you. “Mmm, so soft.” He purred in his deep voice, laying a few licks on your midsection before he moved up, and began to lap at one side of your chest, one of his hands cupping the other.

You mewled softly, bunny ears lowering over your shoulders as he played with you shamelessly. He brought the mound of flesh to his lips, calmly watching your reactions to his tongue. “Feel good?” He shuddered and stuck one of his fingers in his mouth, wetting it with his drool before running the fingertip across the top of your nipple. The touch was so light, edging you closer with each move, your underwear soaking with your wetness now too. Damn him.

“Y-yes…” You moaned softly, arching your back into his touch as he fondled your nipple with his fingertips, still using his tongue to tease at the other. “Good.” His tail whipped behind him in satisfaction, glancing up at you with lusty eyes as your legs trembled around him. Your breaths quickened, the rain still beating relentlessly against your window, building in intensity as you gripped the sheets below you.

“Awe…so cute.” He pressed his fangs hard into his bottom lip, following each of your movements with his lazy cat eyes as he laid back to admire his bunny. He licked his other fingers too, wetting them so he could use his index fingers to work the peaks of both your breasts. You whined and wiggled under him, his erection throbbing against his uniform pants. You knew he loved to tease you, like a kitten playing with a new toy, delighting in finding all new ways to make you come.

You began to buck your hips against him for some relief as he got the message that he was doing well and his plan was working. A wry laugh rumbled in his chest. “There's my needy bunny. All wound up as usual.” He sighed and gave you a bit of a break, rubbing the entirety of your sore breasts with his palms.

But you whined when he stopped, his dark hair splayed all over you. You growled at him, how dare he when you were so close. He seemed to catch wind of your apparent irritation and only laughed at you some more. Reaching down, he pinched your flushed face, craning down to lay a small kiss on you, muttering into the heated skin.

You lurched up and bit his cheek hard in response, sinking your teeth into him to show him you weren’t pleased with how he was acting. His eyes widened as he jumped back, but after a moment his expression shifted. Leona’s emerald eyes glazed over with pleasure, his tongue falling from his mouth. Fuck. His heart was going to explode at how damn cute you were.

“Hm, impatient, are we?” He sighed facetiously. “Very well.” He grabbed onto the discarded lion plushie to his left, replacing it where he just was in your arms, before flipping you over onto your belly. “Hey!” Your tail wiggled in response and you huffed at him getting the better of you. He was…lucky you didn't feel so good.

“...I know what you really want, bun.” He licked his lips, before he adjusted your plump ass, grabbing onto the meat of your sides firmly and using your plushie to prop you up to the right height. “...I got something else for you if you are gonna be so…disagreeable.” He grit his teeth as he yanked down your bloody underwear to your ankles. “It’s a shame…your lion wanted to play with his bunny some more.”

You felt drool pull in your mouth at this new position: ass up, legs dangling off the bed, your tiptoes propped up on the floor. Squeezing the plushie under your chest in anticipation, you knew exactly what was coming next as you heard him fumbling with his belt buckle behind you. “Steady now, Bunny.” A few sounds of pleasure rumbled from him before he slapped you hard across your backside, bringing redness to the surface of your skin. He laughed when you huffed at his spank, arching your back perfectly for him now.

“Mmm.” Leona bent down to give your sore cheeks a little lick in apology before you felt him slide his throbbing cock inside you, mounting you on the side of your bed. He growled as his ears lowered in defeat to you, his pants and underwear falling completely around his ankles. “Better brat?” He sneered, hovering somewhere over your ear, resenting the chokehold his you held over him.

“Mmph-!” You cried in relief, muffled against your stuffed animal, drool dripping from your mouth onto the toy’s indifferent face. The length of his cock filling you up caused your whole body to relax, releasing some of the uncomfortable pressure in your lower back. “Mmhm, yes, yes.” You sighed, squeezing yourself contently around him, looking up at your other plushies lined up against the window sill. Your lion only chuckled triumphantly, coming closer and propping one of his knees on the bed, reaching around until he found your clit, caressing it with the side of his thumb.

”Yes-!” You whimpered out again, biting down on the plushie in your arms as Leona pleasured you with his fingers and cock at the same time. Your legs shook, barely able to stand as he fucked you slow and hard, just how he knew you liked. With each stroke, the tip of his dick massaged your sweet spot, tossing your whole body against your pillows, and knocking down a few of your plush friends in the throes.

Truth was, he didn’t care about the mess you two were creating, or who heard. In fact, he never minded when your quality time together got a little messy. Leona was only focused on one thing. “C’mon. You can do it, Bunny.” He praised you, pressing a few fingers from his free hand into your lower back, adding even more pressure behind his thrusts, causing you to claw at the sheets. “Ooo, I feel it comin’…” The lion mused as you tightened around him, his pre-cum leaking freely into you as he watched you flail.

You couldn't hold it back anymore, crying out as you came hard on him, still chewing on the wet fabric of the plushie as he bounced you over his cock faster, making sure to ride out the waves of your pleasure until you stopped screaming. “That’s it…” He panted and retracted his hand from your front, instead wrapping both arms around you, holding you close as he slowed his strokes to suit you.

“Come... Come with me.” You ordered him in a whisper, knowing that it should be okay. “Yes, yes, Bunny.” A small growl ripped through his throat, the lewd squelching of him fucking you harder mingling with your small whines. It wasn’t long before you felt him shiver, filling you up with his warm seed, his cock twitching inside you.

“Ohh,” Your tail waggled and your back arched into him, not wanting to break the bond, his come dripping from your sacred connection down your quivering thighs. The sensation tickled something deep and primal inside of both of you and you heard his elated laugh fill the room. He flopped on top of you, keeping his cock inside while he caught his breath. You didn’t mind, enjoying the way he felt. “Utakuwa kifo changu…Sungura.” (You will be the death of me…Bunny)

You twisted your head to peek back at him, your half-lidded eyes shining up at him gratefully. “Thank you, Lion.” His ears moved down to you as he lounged on your back and his eyes lit up at your acknowledgment, giving you a wink. “Don’t mention it.” He smiled before he frowned, pulling himself out of you in dismay. You flipped over on your back and stretched out your limbs as you yawned softly, your body completely relaxed now.

Leona unbuttoned his vest and uniform shirt to feel your skin when he lay back over you, replacing the lion plush in your arms with himself again. After a few minutes of reveling in your afterglow, he yawned and groaned. “Let’s go get ya cleaned up, hm?” He proposed, giving you a half grin and flashing one of his fangs at you. “Stay with me…in Savanaclaw? At least…till we can order you some new sheets.” He didn't say please but he might as well have.

Normally your pride would have made you refuse, but… the way he said it made your heart squeeze, your ears laying down around your face. You almost felt bad for how grumpy you were toward him earlier. “Okay,” You agreed when your stomach rumbled loudly against his, making him chuckle. “Let’s…order some food though…I’m starving.” You said sheepishly. At this, Leona’s grin became substantially wider as he glided the tip of his nose against yours, the rain continuing outside.

“Whatever you say, Bunny…”

#twst #twst smut #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona smut #leona kingscholar x gn reader #leona kingscholar smut #leona twisted wonderland #leona twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst fic #twst afab reader #twst imagines #twst writing #twst gn reader

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goatcheesecak3 · 5 months

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Bus stop

Adam stanheight x m!reader

Click here for the f!reader version!

Includes: fluff, implied romance between Adam and reader, brief mentions of violence

Summary: Adam is a social pariah after escaping the jigsaw killer, but while waiting for the bus, he makes a new friend, and things seem hopeful for once.

Adam sat at the bus stop, staring at nothing in particular. He never used to wear hoodies, but since the whole jigsaw thing, he didn't really have a choice. He hated when people would recognise him from the news as a jigsaw survivor, taking pictures of him or asking him questions about it. The worst part by far was when he heard murmurs about how he was technically a murderer. It was true, he had bludgeoned a man to death with a ceramic toilet lid, hit him over the head so ferociously and with so much vigour that his head might as well have been a bag of marbles. It was immediately clear to police that this was an act of self defence, if you're chained up in an abandoned bathroom and some lunatic comes running in there with a gun, what else can you do? Adam had tried to tell himself this many times, but it did little to soothe him. He had killed someone, at the end of the day. He knew it, and everyone else knew it. He just wanted to fade into the background and not be seen, and so, the hood stayed up.

Rain hammered into the streets, and Adam shuddered as he held himself tight under the little shelter that the bus stop provided. It was a freezing cold afternoon in mid December, and he couldn't have felt less festive if he tried. Turns out technically being a murderer makes you kind of a social pariah, so he had pretty much no chance of making friends to spend the holidays with. His own company wasn't exactly the nicest either, since any and every little thing seemed to trigger some sort of panic attack or flashback. He would try to simply sleep through the rest of his life away if it weren't for the nightmares, so that wasn't really an option either. The lack of sleep, isolation and constant feelings of anxiety had turned Adam into a somewhat bitter person, he'd never exactly been away of sunshine, but at the very least he could dish out witty little quips and sardonic comments (even if they were for the sole purpose of being defiant and sarcastic). Nowadays he didn't have the energy or the patience to be funny, he was just short tempered, angry, and trying not to cry all the time.

He blinked slowly, waiting for his bus and feeling quite sorry for himself, when suddenly a voice broke the trance like state he was in.

"Excuse me?" He snapped, turning to look at the speaker, sounding more pissed off than he thought he was going to

"Sorry to be a bother, but could you tell me if this bus is gonna go to the south end of town?" Asked the young man who the voice belonged to.

Adam was taken aback by this, the man in front of him was his age, fresh faced and quite handsome. He seemed friendly and had a welcoming demeanour, which was strange. Ever since Adam's situation hit the news a few months ago, the reception he got was normally aloof or wary, but not from this man. He wasn't here to pry, either, he simply wanted to enquire about the bus timetable. He was talking to Adam like he was any other person in the city.

"Oh.. uh yeah it is" mumbled Adam, stumbling over his words slightly.

"Thanks so much," the man beamed, "I've asked about five people about the buses and you're the first one to actually talk to me" he chuckled, taking a seat next to Adam.

Adam gave the man a perplexed look, as he wondered who would be nuts enough to give someone like him the cold shoulder. Sure, Adam wasn't exactly the friendliest of people, but even he could give this guy the time of day, what was everyone else's excuse?

"Y/n, by the way," he smiled, holding out his hand to him.

"Adam," he replied, doing his best impression of a smile, hoping it would add a little bit of cheer into his inflection so as not to scare this handsome guy away, as he took y/n's hand and shook it gently.

"Adam, that's a nice name" he smiled at him.

He still hadn't put two and two together that he was the same Adam from the news... unless he somehow hadn't seen the news. But that would be impossible... unless

"Are you new around here by any chance?" Adam asked, looking for answers.

"Yeah, I am, Only moved to this city a few weeks ago. You been here long?" he replied

"My whole life, one day I'll get out of here though" Adam replied, staring straight ahead. He thought to himself how many times he'd said that exact same thing; "one day I'll get out of here". It was just wishful thinking at this point, but it was a comforting thought, so he chose not to dig into it any deeper so as not to destroy the illusion of a hopeful future.

"I can't say I blame you for wanting to get out of here. Everyone seems so... cold" y/n said, a tinge of sadness in his voice, "I thought I'd make friends out here I mean, that's what you're supposed to do when you're young, right? Go to the big city and meet lots of new people? I gotta say, I don't know what I was thinking. I'm much more at home in the countryside far away from everyone else. Sorry, I'm rambling" he trailed off.

"No, it's okay, " he said with a weak smile, "it's actually nice to rambled at a bit. I uh.. don't have many friends either. It gets pretty lonely."

"Well, maybe we could be eachother's friend?" Y/n suggested with a warm smile.

He was radiant, so effortlessly kind and warm. Everything about him made Adam want to let his guard down, he just had one of those faces you could trust. If Adam had to describe his essence in one word, it would have been "lovely".

Hesitantly, and slightly nervously, Adam nodded.

"Here," y/n said, handing Adam his phone, "put your number in and I'll text you sometime"

Adam did so, without hesitation this time. When the bus pulled up, Adam graciously offered for y/n to get on first, which he accepted.

"A single to the south end please, and whatever he's getting" he said to the driver, pulling her wallet out and smiling over his shoulder at Adam

"Uh, the same" he said, trying to hide just how flattered he was that y/n had offered to pay for his journey, "heh, thanks" he smiled awkwardly.

The pair rode the bus together, talking and laughing about music and films until they reached their stops and went their separate ways home.

This is y/n from the bus stop :) was so lovely to meet you! You doing anything tomorrow? x

A/n hello! Let me know if you want a part 2 to this!

Replies and reblogs are very much appreciated! I thrive on your validation lmao

Requests are open! Check my pinned post for details and masterlist! <3

#adam imagine #adam faulkner stanheight #adam saw #saw adam #adam faulkner #adam faulkner x reader #adam stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #saw #saw 2004 #saw franchise #saw movies #sawposting #leigh whannell #adam x reader #x male reader #x masc reader #fluff #saw fanfic

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fibula-rasa · 1 year

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Cosplay the Classics: Maya Deren in Meshes of the Afternoon (1943)

My closet cosplay of Maya Deren in her film Meshes of the Afternoon

I’ve been sitting on this cosplay for a shamefully long amount of time at this point. Originally, I thought to myself, “self, there’s no need to write anything long-form or meaningful to accompany this cosplay. Everybody knows Maya Deren.” But, then I did a quick little search around the internet and felt the inauspicious tug of the Curse of Knowledge.

Over the eighty years since Maya Deren made Meshes of the Afternoon, images of Deren have become emblematic of experimental film, both here in the United States and internationally. I’ve been privileged enough in my life to have formally studied the history of independent film in America and have also worked at an institution that specializes in preserving avant-garde film. So, for me, Deren’s shadow looms large. She is, no exaggeration, one of the most important figures in the American experimental film tradition. On tumblr, Deren’s image (particularly in Meshes of the Afternoon) has proliferated even further with popular sets of gifs and stills. That said, I can’t pin down quite how much the average film fan knows about Deren’s films and ideas. To put some things in context, I’d like to start by highlighting how she became an icon of experimental film.

Picture it: America in the 1940s. You’ve delved into filmmaking for the first time without a production company behind you. You’ve independently created a short, silent, poetic, experimental film at the height of the US’ studio era. The same qualities that might classify a film as niche today were even more pressing in the 1940s. So, how do you get it seen? Maya Deren had some ideas about that.

Deren was confident in film as an artistic medium. Over the course of the 1940s and 1950s, Deren arranged her own screenings by renting out a playhouse, and marketed and packaged her films for universities and artistic and cultural institutions in the US and in Europe. Deren also wrote pretty extensively about film form and also about the nature of and meanings behind her films. Deren would also speak at screenings of her films. So, basically, before there was a festival circuit or arthouses or cinematheques in the US, Deren positioned herself as author and primary marketer of her films. This necessary self promotion was pattern setting for the time, but also created an indelible association between her image and the developing independent film scene in mid-century America.

Deren’s image being the emblem of experimental American film is largely due to the way she continually promoted her films and engaged directly with her audience and with discussions around her work. (Additionally, seeing as Deren’s movies were self-produced, how much she could make renting and screening the films would provide the budget for the next film.)

If you’ve gotten this far in this write up and haven’t seen many/any of Deren’s films, first of all, thanks, but second of all, I recommend checking out a triple feature of films commonly grouped together as her “trance” films: Meshes of the Afternoon (1943), At Land (1944) [my personal fave], and Ritual in Transfigured Time (1945). They are all less than 15 minutes by the way, so don’t be daunted at the suggestion of watching three films in a row! Keep in mind that all three of these films were initially conceived of and released without a soundtrack. There is an authorized score for Meshes of the Afternoon composed later by Deren’s third husband, Teiji Ito, but how well that score serves the film is debatable. So, depending on where you choose to watch her films you may want to watch them soundlessly the first time, just to be sure that the music doesn’t get in the way. (Though I will say some of the scores I’ve seen people make on their own are crackerjack!)

As a preface to your viewing experience, I’d like to advise you not to get too caught up in overly logical and literal thinking—don’t intellectualize. Getting too hung up on whether you “got” a piece or art or not is just a barrier to genuine experience. Oddly, this is something I bang on about a lot in real life (and maybe I have on here before, I don’t remember) but it was pretty exciting reading more of Deren’s writing and coming upon this very relevant passage:

“It is therefore relevant to underline, here, the fact that the appreciation of a work based on experiential, or inner, realities consists not in a laborious analysis based on the logic of a reality which a ‘prepared’ spectator brings to the work. It consists, rather, in an abandonment of all previously conceived realities. It depends upon an attitude of innocent receptivity which permits the perception and the experience of the new reality. Once this reality has been perceived and experienced, its logic may be deduced if one wishes. Such a deduction is not necessary to the perception and can only follow it as a secondary activity, much as an analysis of love, for example, can only follow upon the experience but can never induce it.”

— Cinema as an Art Form" by Maya Deren, New Directions 9, 1946

The anecdote I often bring up to illustrate “innocent receptivity” to people who are reticent to take my advice is from David Lynch. Lynch recounts a private screening of his work for Mel Brooks when Brooks was considering him to direct The Elephant Man (1980), which Brooks was producing. Lynch assumed that that was the end of the line for him, but instead, Brooks loved his films and shared his own emotionally-grounded read on Eraserhead (1977). Lynch hadn’t anticipated Brooks’ intelligence as an artist and film enthusiast or his receptivity to the form. Lynch was obviously hired. Basically, we could all do with being more like Mel Brooks.

If you get the chance, and you’re interested in expanding your understanding of film as art, I strongly recommend checking out Deren’s writing. Her prose might seem florid, but I promise it’s a floridity based on precision of explanation, it’s not an exclusionary type of wordiness. There is a collection of some of Deren’s work from 2004 called Essential Deren (available on the Internet Archive). I’ve also been considering recording a reading of her essay “Cinematography: The Creative Use of Reality” if having an audio file would be appealing to anyone?

Well, thanks for making it all the way through! I know I haven’t really been doing longer-form stuff for this blog lately. Words are kind of a struggle for me and I get pretty easily discouraged to express myself with them, but upon reflection, I knew Maya Deren deserved the effort. I hope that I’ve provided sufficient inducement for you all to check out her work!

A couple of reference photos for my closet cosplay

P.S. I posted some excerpts of Deren’s writing over on my “whatever” tumblr

Buy me a ☕

#Maya Deren #Meshes of the Afternoon #1940s #1943 #cosplay #cosplay the classics #closet cosplay #american film #independent film #avant-garde film #experimental film #female filmmakers #female filmmaker friday #film #movie recommendations #classic film #film blog

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