#OMFG I just saw my old tag
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BABY JOHN HEADCANONS
not like baby baby but like he's MY baby yk? my babygirl as a baby before he was babygirl when he was a little baby boy
• When the gang gets John - cuz let's be real, they get him the way one gets a puppy or a case of smallpox - he's fresh off that attempted hanging. It was more of a lynching than anything, an impromptu eye-for-an-eye killing after John shot a feller with his own god damned gun. What made a twelve year old mad enough, scared enough to kill, and how'd he manage to grab the guys gun? Kid won't say
• kid won't say much of anything, really. The gang had a disgraced doctor running with them at the time, a guy so hooked on his own cures and tinctures you wouldn't trust him to diagnose a hole in the head, and he said the noose had crushed John's larynx. Sure, the boy can still talk, but it ain't ever gonna sound the same and for the first lil while it'll be hard as hell, but he should be able to. So why don't he?
Doc says maybe the lynching, lack of oxygen to the brain made him go daft cuz just look at him, ain't a thought behind those eyes.
But Dutch, he has faith, he knows.
I think just the fear and trauma after the incident sent John to a pretty rough place and he went nonverbal for a space of six or nine months. Not right after, maybe, but in the following days and weeks - enough they got a name out of him, an age (he said 12 but he's got the stature of an eight year old, not nearly enough meat on his bones), a little bit of a story. "Where's your daddy, boy?" Dead. "And yer mama?" Dead.
• John was always told his ma was a lady of the night, knocked up on accident and dead in childbirth. He came out with the cord around his neck and his ma bled out before they could even untangle him.
There'd been a picture, though he'd never had the courage to ask his father about it, drunk and angry as he was. A young woman with round features and hooded eyes, long dark hair parted in the center and braided, his father's hand resting gently on her shoulder, both posed like a portrait.
(john is métis/mixed indigenous and you can pry that headcanon from my cold dead fuckin hands)
• in the winter john is so small and skinny he gets too cold at night and Arthur begrudgingly is like "FINE you can share with me" and so they share a bed until John is like 16 fjjfbfbf way too old to be sharing but imho John is a bit of a late bloomer and sort of, not a mamas boy but just kind of a baby yk?? Arthur is like "dontcha think it's time you got your own tent or something?" and John's like "No." and just walks away and Arthur is like "AT LEAST YER OWN COT??"
• john is reptilian in his search for heat he just wants to be warm ever since they got him he's crawled into Arthur's jacket whatever chance he gets
• during that first year especially, John was clingy and strange.... after a particularly terrible bathing experience (Susan is great but she's fastidious about personal hygiene and if water goes above John's navel he starts to freak) Arthur is just posted up by the fire with John sat between his knees, tucked into his jacket as they sit in silence mutually brooding... and John reaches up to rub the stubble on Arthur's jawline as a way of like, stimming n self soothing and Arthur would stop him cuz it's weird but he feels those boney little shoulders loosen and John says something, and he never says Anything so Arthur knows it's a big deal... so he just let's John keep doing it after that
• Susan is highly against taking in a child when they first bring John around - maybe because she thinks the main childcare duties will fall to her, or because she doesn't trust the gang to be a safe place for a kid - and this manifests as a little bit of short-temperedness towards him. it's not unusual, she's kind of a Bitch on the best days, but she's cold towards him at first... and I don't think anything Happens, per sé, no big event, just over time she sees he's a damaged boy in need of mothering and that's a part of herself she tried to kill a long time ago... but he brings it out of her. She nags him to cut his hair but brushes it out for him anyway; she'll share an apple with John if no one's looking, peeling it and quartering it and sneaking him a piece. She'll complain about the food - "God this stew is terrible what's in it? Rat meat? Here John, you finish it" - because sometimes good food is scarce and he's a growing boy and she sees his hungry frame, remembers how he used to steal and hoard food in the early days. They almost always have enough but she wants him to have more than enough. She reads to him, and then when he's learned to she gets him to read to her. A damp cloth on the forehead when he's laid low with fever, maybe a soft lullaby if she thinks no one's around...
• at age 12 John has a smoking habit. I don't know if this is unusual for the era or not and I dont know what the gang thinks of it but the kid loves his tobacco
• in fact John rolls his own cigarettes and, when he's young, that's primarily how he earns his keep - those tiny little kid's hands did a great job and he ends up getting the chore foisted on to him from everyone fndbbdf ( prerolled cigarettes had been invented only 7 years prior)
• at agw john also unfortunately loves to drink. I don't know if this was unusual for the era but I'm sure Hosea and Susan and even Dutch had something to say about it
and I think that's all I got in my head for now fellers.... thanks for reading mister....
#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#red dead redemption#john marston#OMFG I just saw my old tag#john marstons adult braces#uGH thats such a good HC too#love himmmmb#rdr2 headcanons#he's just a lil squinkum he's just a lil guy!!!!#and Arthur and him have a super close relationship even if they argue often#its not til after john leaves that they majorly fall out and lose the close relationship they have#arthur being cock blocked because his little brother insists on sharing a bed until hes fuckin 20 years old#they just go into the woods to jerk off its fine
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mamma mia | formula one social media au
drivers: sebastian vettel, jenson button and fernando alonso
what the hell is in the water in greece? why are pregnancy tests so expensive and why does seb name his vehicles like that?
fernandoalo_oficial
liked by maxverstappen1, aussiegrit and 803,450 others
location: greece
fernandoalo_oficial: had a great break in greece recharging the old batteries 🔋
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user1: old man who is this woman?
landonorris: who taught you to soft launch grandpa?
fernandoalo_oficial: hey! respect your elders
landonorris: you just called yourself old? and WHO IS THIS?
fernandoalo_oficial: none of your damn business kid
user2: why is he particularly dilfy lately?
user3: he's approaching silver fox territory i fear
jensonbutton: i see that greece was a popular spot for wold champions this break?
fernandoalo_oficial: i also saw, sad not to bump into you old friend :(
maxverstappen1: where was my invite ???
jensonbutton: cool world champions only
lewishamilton: excuse me?
fernandoalo_oficial: idk what to tell you it wasn't planned, me, jenson and sebastian just have good taste
sebastianvettel: i see mary goodnight was appreciated
fernandoalo_oficial: yes thank you for lending me your boat, huge hit with the ladies
sebastianvettel: very happy with my choice to get it deep cleaned before i got there
fernandoalo_oficial: first of all, i'm not dirty. second of all, thanks for the faith in my game big man
user4: i am so confused by this comment section I DID NOT WANT TO KNOW ALONSO FUCKED ON SEB'S BOAT ???
yourusername
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tagged: yourbff
yourusername: (sober) brunch with a side of light baby daddy investigation
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user7: only y/n would end up in a mamma mia situation, stay strong
yourusername: omg i didn't even realise, but donna was always a bad bitch, so i will just be the same
user8: i can't believe i am watching a girl investigate her own baby daddies on the internet (i love this place)
yourbff: if we can't find the lucky men, at least they'll have a cool ass aunt
yourusername: all fun and games until you have to change a nappy
user9: i'm enjoying this saga, BUT, why can't we just wait and do a paternity test
yourusernmae: i still need to know them to do that... and being nosey is far more fun
user10: all i'm thinking is this girl has to have GAME for three dilfs in the span of like three days... RESPECT 🫡
user11: i am so invested in this... please be interesting people 🤞
jensonbutton
liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 401,330 others
jensonbutton: back on sky duty and bumped into a couple of familiar faces
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user12: who let these old men talk about their sex lives on a live broadcast?
user13: i am entertained tbf
user14: obsessed with both needing to reinforce the fact that they pulled in greece
user15: i need seb to jump in on this conversation ASAP
fernandoalo_oficial: not happy with you pinning all of my success on seb's boat mate
jensonbutton: was it all your charming personality?
fernandoalo_oficial: obviously
sebastianvettel: i can confirm that it's always all the boat
jensonbutton: is that a confession?
sebastianvettel: gentleman don't kiss and tell x
charles_leclerc: jesus christ and we're the generation ruining the sport?
jensonbutton: f1 has always been slutty, you guys are letting us down
maxverstappen1: clearly you guys are still active enough to keep up the reputation yourselves
sebastianvettel
liked by charles_leclerc, jensonbutton and 902,180 others
sebastianvettel: retirement is looking fun, glad to take mary goodnight out for her first spin
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user21: did he just say mary goodnight? SEB WHAT?
user22: omfg he is potential baby daddy two??
charles_leclerc: so seb got a bit too lucky in greece?
user23: CHARLES?
user24: i am losing my mind they were right, they are the baby daddies
user25: i knew as soon as she said a nando with a samurai tattoo
user26: @yourusername he's number two !!!!!
user27: @yourusername we found him, boat and all
landonorris: YOU'RE POTENTIAL BABY DADDY TWO SEB WHAT THE FUCK
sebastianvettel: i don't understand lando
landonorris: check your texts
user28: don't forget the others lando
landonorris: @fernandoalo_oficial check your texts (and forward it to jenson i don't have his number)
fernandoalo_oficial: okay?
yourusername: WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK
user29: i think someone needs to check on her
yourusername
liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,509,600 others
yourusername: i hot girl summer-ed a bit too close to the sun, what do you mean the three dilfs were f1 world champions?
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note: AHHHHHH? idk if i love it or hate it? do i know who i plan on being the dad? no. but do i plan on expanding on this? yes. mamma mia chaos will return.
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#sebastian vettel instagram au#sebastian vettel x you#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel#sebastian vettel imagine#fernando alonso#fernando alonso imagine#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso instagram au#jenson button#jenson button imagine#jenson button x reader#jenson button instagram au
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Inside Y/N L/N’s Bag | Vogue | Dad!H
MASTERLIST | PATREON
“Hi Vogue I am Y/N L/N and this is what’s in my bag.”
After she introduces herself, Y/N looks down at the bag in her lap. The bag she had used every single day was a personalized Pleasing mesh bag. It was a light pink color and had a blue ribbon tied onto one of the straps.
It was clear that it meant a lot to her.
“What I carry with me everyday is this.” She says grabbing onto her bag. “You can fit anything in here. And the thing about this is, it’s technically Inez’s diaper bag.”
Y/N then grins at the memory of Harry gifting her the tote.
“This specific bag was gifted to me by my husband a while ago, right before he had launched Pleasing. My son actually loves this bag and has one of his own but smaller. He doesn't go anywhere without it.” Y/N shares.
Setting her carrier onto the wooden coffee table in front of her, the Styles woman reaches into her bag and pulls out a bag of candy. Beau's favorite type.
Y/N remembers the night when Harry had got their son addicted to the chocolate minstrels.
“My son is obsessed with these and when I saw them I had to get them for him.” She laughs. “I spoil my kids way too much.”
The next thing Y/N pulled out was her phone. Just a plain iPhone 14 with a case that she had stolen from Harry or borrowed it, so she said. Once she taps on the screen her face lights up.
Her lock screen was a photo of a newborn Inez sleeping on Harry’s chest with Beau right beside them.
She almost shed a tear.
“This is my phone, nothing special until you look at the lock screen.” Y/N grins. She loved her family so deeply.
After placing her phone onto the table, she slides her hand into her carrier pulling out a blue bandanna. It previously belonged to Harry until Inez came around and slid the bandanna off of her father’s head.
It was truly her favorite thing in the world. You could say it was sort of like a safety blanket for her.
“Harry’s bandanna or should I say Inez’s bandanna. That girl loves this thing so much.”
-
A small bag of diapers, bibs, toy trucks, hair clips that she had stole back from Harry, kids sunscreen, Love on Tour’s backstage/V.I.P passes, bandaids, Harry’s headphones, her family’s passports and a camera
“Since we’re currently on tour and always traveling I always have to carry my children’s essentials.” Y/N explains looking at all the items laid out in front of her. “You can never be unprepared.”
Just five years ago her bag was filled with very different items than now. She was now a mother and had a family with a man she’s always wanted to grow old with.
Two kids later and she’s become a changed woman, a better one. She’s always valued the life she had, especially right now. Y/N couldn't have been more happy.
“Another toy!” Y/N laughs, pulling out another toy from her bag. “A mini statue of our dog Kendall who was actually named after Kendall Roy from Succession since Harry is obsessed with that show.” She holds out a miniature dog in her palm.
Following the toy, she slides out a pair of rings that clearly belonged to Harry Styles since they were his initials.
Y/N leans forward and slips the rings into her back pocket. She remembers the last time Harry had lost jewelry. It was at Coachella and he went insane looking for them.
“We are not losing any more rings.”
Comments:
harryfan2 WHEN WAS THEIR WEDDING OMFG?????
harryfan10 best mother in the world truly
harryfan4 harry’s love for succession has me rolling 😭😭
harryfan8 this. is. what. we. needed.
harryfan13 THE LOCK SCREEN
harryfan7 i cannot stress how much i love this video
harryfan5 the literal girl version of harry
harryfan9 harry is finally y/n’s husband 🧎♂️
harryfan11 i’m literally crying
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tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @cherryfragrancx @milkiane @golden-hoax @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia
#harry styles x reader#dad!harry#harry styles#harry styles au#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#boyfriend!harry#husband!harry#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles fake ig#harry styles fan fic#dilf!harry#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine
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foresight (myg)
It all started with a bad joke and a bottle of Tanqueray.
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader | Darksided AU
Type: One-Shot / Prequel to darksided (no. 2) & blindsided (no. 3,) but can be read as a stand-alone fic.
Word Count: 11.3K 😳
Content: SPICY FLUFF (18+ or else - oral (m receiving) and penetrative, protected sex (p in v)); strangers to lovers au; POV switches; discussion of anxiety and negative self-talk; alcohol consumption (primary setting is a bar); tteokbokki; and just the cutest fucking duo. ft. Seokjin and a surprise cameo by reader's cat.
A/N: The origin story for my beloved babies, which takes place in 2016 (and uses Korean age, fyi.) I found this photo after I finished writing and nearly fell tf over because this was the Yoongi in my brain; jacket and all, omfg. My actual note (and tags) will be at the end! 💕
Listen to the playlist here. Read Interlude: Sunrise drabble here.
Min Yoongi wanted it on record that he tried.
When Seokjin pushed, and pushed, and pushed Yoongi to ask out that girl, he did. She was someone Seokjin knew from somewhere, and she seemed nice enough. All Yoongi really knew about her was that she was pretty, though he hoped to learn that this was the least interesting thing about her.
If nothing else, Yoongi proceeded out of spite. He wanted nothing more than to shove it in Seokjin’s face that he was capable of being a normal, twenty-four-year-old man. He wanted to prove to Seokjin — and to himself, if he were being honest — that he wasn’t a borderline-reclusive workaholic.
Or, at the very least, he wasn’t exclusively a borderline-reclusive workaholic. He did want to get out and meet new people; just in negligible and infrequent doses.
It had been so long since Yoongi last went on a date that three (3) generations of iPhones had come and gone. Children who hadn’t yet been born were now entering pre-kindergarten, making macaroni art with the motor skills they’d obtained during his romantic sabbatical. It was embarrassing; it was depressing; and it all piled up at his doorstep, barricading him inside his apartment.
There was a vicious cycle at play, making matters worse. It casted Yoongi as the lone sock, swirling and drowning inside his washing machine brain. The plot was as stupid as it was repetitive:
Relentless schedule aside, Yoongi didn’t date because it made him anxious. Then, he’d become more anxious because he wasn’t dating. Ultimately, he’d end up too anxious about his anxiety to address the thing that caused it in the first place. And around and around and around he went.
Why the fuck did people subject themselves to this on purpose?
Asking her out was the simplest part. With a quick text and an emoji — the latter of which Yoongi deliberated over for far too long — he’d knocked the ball into her court. She’d responded within minutes, which he assumed was a good sign. Saturday night, they’d decided, at eight o’clock.
Unfortunately, no part of what came next was easy.
Yoongi had spent the four subsequent days in a tailspin. Spiraling over where to take her, what to wear, and what the fuck to talk to her about. In the few interactions they’d had before, all she seemed to do was pepper him with questions about his career. Like everyone else, she was fascinated by Yoongi: the Concept.
Whether or not she cared about Yoongi: the Person was yet to be determined.
Worse, after three years in the public eye, Yoongi worried that he’d lost track of what once made him relatable. That boy from Daegu — with a chip on his shoulder and a fire in his belly — was traded in for a luxury model. He no longer had to debate between purchasing a meal or a bus ticket home from work because he was now loaded and living in Hannam-fucking-dong.
Ugh.
People looked at him with stars in their eyes, but he could never tell if anyone truly saw him. And even if someone did, what was left to see, anyway? Yoongi doubted that he could pick himself out of a lineup now.
Eventually, after three nights of tossing and turning, Yoongi had landed on something that felt meaningful. He would take this girl to a hole-in-the-wall that he loved dearly, which sat relatively unnoticed in a lesser-traveled pocket of Seoul. It was quiet and unassuming, but had a life of its own.
As far as Yoongi could see, it was the perfect place to find the parts of himself that’d dropped on his rapid, record-breaking ascent. Decidedly unremarkable but worth it, nonetheless. There, she could get to know the person behind the persona. Maybe she’d even come to like who he actually was.
Before heading out, Yoongi had pitched his plan to Seokjin and received a thumbs up in response. Unfortunately, her reaction came from two knuckles down. Her departure followed less than sixty seconds after her arrival. She’d fled so quickly, in fact, that she managed to flag down the very same cab before it could clear the block.
Through her window, she’d shouted out her scathing review: Yoongi was cheap; she would never drink bottom-shelf liquor with him in a glorified dumpster; and she both expected and deserved better because he could access better. Yoongi had stood stunned on the sidewalk as she disappeared — likely forever — in a cloud of exhaust.
Somehow, it felt like that cab had run him over as it peeled out.
To be clear, none of this was painful because Yoongi was disappointed; he wasn’t, not in the slightest. Good fucking riddance. It was worse than that. He felt validated, and he knew exactly how fucking sad that was.
See? Told you so, he’d thought bitterly to himself. Then, immediately, Yoongi criticized himself for being too critical. Hypocrite.
So, there he stood.
If Yoongi followed his instinct and went home, he could rebuild his barricade and watch several episodes of Chopped before passing out alone in his bed. A productive night, despite its fruitless start. But then, he realized, he’d have to answer when Seokjin inevitably called to ask what the fuck went wrong.
Fuck it.
Yoongi shrugged to no one but himself. He then slipped from the sidewalk, through the dumpster’s front door, and straight to the bar. Slumping down onto a leather-topped stool, he rested his elbows against the mahogany countertop and dropped his dejected chin in his hand.
Is this rock bottom? He wondered, Drinking in a bar alone on a Saturday night?
Within seconds, there was a loud crash several meters away. Yoongi jerked his head towards the source of the sound, but he saw nothing. His brows furrowed. All was quiet until a whine erupted from the doorway to the back room.
“Shit, shit, shit!"
Upon standing, Yoongi pressed his hands against the bar and leaned forward to investigate; equal parts concerned and nosy.
On the ground in the doorway, he found shattered remnants of what was once a bottle of Tanqueray. Crouching above the pine-scented wreckage, plucking chunks of glass off the hardwood, he found you.
Yoongi immediately grimaced at your chosen method of disaster clean-up. There was already a bandage wrapped around your finger — with a Hello Kitty pattern, he noted — that confirmed your ongoing battle with clumsiness.
You didn’t need to add to that collection and he couldn’t watch in good conscience while you made that outcome more and more likely.
Mind made up, he crossed quickly to the side of the bar he had no authorization to be on. As soon as Yoongi reached you, he saw the nearby bucket labeled “broken shit.” Then, he clocked the small hand-brush and dustpan resting against it. Wasting no time, he grabbed all three; and without a word, you allowed him to carefully usher you out of the way.
Crouching down the way you had, he began to sweep the broken shit into the dustpan. Too preoccupied to glance up, he asked without looking, “Are you okay?”
When you didn’t immediately respond, Yoongi’s eyes quickly rose to find you with strawberry-pink cheeks and wide, vaguely horrified eyes, and —Shit, was he staring?
Say something. Say anything. For fuck’s sake, Yoongi, at least smile so she knows you’re not angry.
What he landed on looked more like a grimace, he was sure of it, and it didn’t seem to fix that look on your face.
“I’m so sorry,” you squeaked once he finished dumping the glass into its designated receptacle.
You didn’t give him a chance to tell you that an apology wasn’t necessary, opting instead to rattle off your perceived sins at an alarming rate:
“I think I’m the only bartender in Seoul that’s this bad at tending bar. I mean, I didn’t even know anyone else was here — because I wasn’t paying attention — and now you, the patron I’m supposed to be serving, are cleaning up after me. It’s definitely supposed to be the other way around —“
A smile was twitching at the corner of his mouth that he couldn’t prevent. Without a door into the so far one-sided conversation, Yoongi had to jump through the window you created when you finally drew a breath. “Have you got a mop?”
Based on the way your eyebrows knit together, you’d been thrown entirely for a loop. You re-opened your mouth, likely to apologize for not following the sudden twist. Yoongi refused to allow further self-flagellation, though.
Classic Yoongi: demonstrating more compassion for strangers than he ever shows himself.
“For the gin,” He chuckled softly as he gestured down to the puddle at his feet. Suddenly and baselessly bold, he shot you a playful look and tacked on, “And for all the words you just spilled.”
The aforementioned eyebrows shot up as your jaw dropped further. Thankfully, it was amusement and not offense glittering in your eyes. Pretty. As you crossed your arms over your chest, you tilted your head and sized him up with a quick glance.
If this was a test, he was determined to pass.
“Maybe,” you hummed.
Yoongi wanted to volley your nonchalant tone, but he couldn’t swallow the laughter bubbling up from his chest. He was grinning like an idiot; there was no denying it. “Maybe?”
Your eyebrow twitched ever so slightly, the perfect overture to the mischief on your lips. When you replied, that microscopic smirk never faltered: “Let’s say, for arguments’ sake, that there is a mop.”
A manicured finger was held up to stop Yoongi from interjecting.
Mystified, his poor brain tried to crunch the numbers. Statically, it made no sense that — out of the thousands of people he’d met in his life — he’d never come across someone quite like you. In a matter of minutes, you’d pirouetted from adorable, to self-depreciating, to coy and confident.
All-encompassing, all electric, you moved through tone shifts far more gracefully than you did through the bar.
And if he’d done the math right, this was the first interaction he’d had in recent memory that didn’t deplete his energy. In fact, it had the opposite effect. Gazing at you, Yoongi began to wonder if this was how extroverts got to feel as they moved through the world. Like it gave back more than it took. Lucky bastards.
Once Yoongi was thoroughly disarmed, you continued breezily, “Hypothetically speaking, would you let me be the one to use said mop? After all, it’s both my job and my mess.”
“Hypothetically?” He repeated, sucking in a breath through his teeth. Your eyes narrowed further as he paused to formulate a counterpoint. Meanwhile, Yoongi’s involuntary smile spread in a straight line across his face.
You’re a goddamn delight, full stop.
“Assuming, for the sake of this argument, that I do concede the mop in question —” Yoongi raised an eyebrow, “— How could I be sure that you wouldn’t hurt yourself? After all, you did just try to clean up broken glass with your hands.”
If this had been a gun fight and not banter behind a bar, you would’ve shot him dead. Like lightning, you quickly unraveled your arms and held your hands at the ready. That effervescent grin of yours might be his undoing instead.
Eyes alight, you threw down the gauntlet: “Gawi, bawi, bo?”
Never before in your life had you played rock, paper, scissors, and lost at every single turn. You’d also never requested a rematch for every loss before, continuing the game into perpetuity; but you had a hypothesis to prove and a perfectly unique smile to make wider.
No matter what you threw, he’d offered a gesture to counter it. If his eyes hadn’t gotten wider and wider with shock as it just — kept — happening, you would’ve simply decided that he was psychic. A mind-reader, predicting your every move before you’d even settled on it yourself.
Spooky.
At the start, his amusement had been more or less concealed. Withheld, even, like it was dangerous to grin with every single one of his teeth. Eventually, though, his shoulders shook the way yours did; and mirth pooled in the corners of his eyes as he wheezed through laughter with you.
You didn’t know him, but still, you couldn’t help thinking: there he is.
At some point during your unending match, he doubled over to catch his breath. Seizing the element of surprise, you’d darted into the storage room before he could’ve stopped you. When you reappeared with a mop and bucket in tow, you’d immediately begun to address the mess you made. It took a few moments of buffering for him to realize what you’d done.
That time around, he hadn’t shouldered your burden for you and thank god for that. First impressions were never your strong suit, and you were already starting from behind. Always too much, you couldn’t be useless, too.
Instead, he’d simply resigned himself to swapped names and spiked blood pressure as you struggled — stubbornly and independently — to dump the contents of that yellow, wheeled mop bucket into the utility sink. Standing quietly out of your way, Yoongi had looked close to proud when you managed to do it all without spilling a drop.
See, you’d thought, I’m verifiably Not Useless!
Once the evidence of your clumsy crime had been disposed of, you’d returned the cleaning supplies to their rightful space in the storage room’s closet. Similarly, you and your patron returned to your rightful places: him on his stool at the front of the bar; you, finally fixing him a drink behind it.
Ardbeg, single malt, neat.
After sliding the glass across the mahagony to his waiting hand, you glanced towards the front entrance. As usual, there were no pedestrians wandering this way; no cars on the street, either. The only quiet part of Seoul — especially on a Saturday night.
The bar routinely bordered on empty, but it had some magical quality to it: Nobody you saw inside for the first time seemed to be there for the first time. This was especially odd because it wasn’t a place anyone went to, just a place they ended up. Nobody’s first choice, it was a last resort only visible to people who knew where to look for it.
Yoongi was the first one to speak, unknowingly putting an end to your mythologizing. You just barely flinched at the surprise of his voice, but he managed to catch it. Then, he conducted a brief yet careful study of your face to determine whether you were simply jumpy, or experiencing some sort of medical event.
A gesture like that, done in passing, shouldn’t have meant so much to you. Really, all he did was look at you. It felt like more than that, though, because it was the second-kindest thing anyone had done for you in months — and it occurred merely twenty minutes after the first-place winner.
Now, that’s depressing.
“I haven’t seen you in here before,” He hummed, “I only ever run into Yang Daehyun-nim, though it’s been a minute. Honestly, I don’t even know if he’s still around. You know him?”
“Yes, absolutely. He’s my husband.” You deadpanned and Yoongi nearly choked to death on his drink.
You were, of course, fucking with him. The man in question was swiftly approaching ninety, but he looked twice as old. You successfully maintained your ruse until Yoongi’s tongue breached the barrier of his lips and gathered his runaway whiskey.
Where am I? Who am I? Is that legal?
Yoongi simultaneously picked up the joke and his glass. He raised both with pure amusement on his face, “Cheers to the happy couple, then.”
Never one to raise a toast empty-handed, you quickly dumped what little remained of a nearby soju bottle into a shot glass. His eyes sparkled as he watched you race to catch up; even more so when you leaned in to clink your glass against his.
Oh, so he’s pretty pretty.
“To the happy couple,” you echoed.
With both of your drinks dispatched, you grabbed the bottle of Ardbeg to top him up. Expensive taste, you noted, not the low-rent version you were destined for.
If Yoongi hadn’t shown up to order it, that bottle would’ve continued to gather dust on the top shelf. Like you, none of your regulars had the capital to even glance that high. Granted, the sample size was abysmally small at only three (3) people, but the point still stood.
Until Yoongi mentioned Daehyun, you couldn’t think of a single reason why your employer bothered to keep anything like that in stock. Now, that piece seemed to fit. Still, you were puzzled as to why Yoongi would come to a dive like this to drink liquor like that.
Clearly, the man sitting in front of you contained multitudes.
At the exact moment you asked how long he’d been coming here, Yoongi wondered when you joined the staff. Your respective answers came simultaneously, too. His six years easily dwarfed your eight months.
True to form, you joked that he was more qualified to tend bar here than you were. He said his only relevant skill was cleaning broken glass.
It made you sad in some stupid way to realize that you could’ve met a hundred times over by now. Had more conversations like this, haunted the joint jointly rather than on your own. Truthfully, though, you were at least semi-soothed by the timing.
You were a horrible bartender now, but you’d been even worse before. He might not have survived this long.
Once again, Yoongi set your runaway train-of-thought back on track. “Eight months ago.” He took a sip, then he asked, “Is that when you moved to Korea?”
It was a simple question, certainly not an offensive one. The reason it nearly bowled you over was that no one had ever bothered to ask. Nobody seemed to notice the non-native accent that occasionally appeared when you spoke — not unless you referenced its existence first, that is.
Even then, people forgot. You wished you were confident that they simply got used to it, but you had the sneaking suspicion that nobody really listened when you spoke. After all, no one had a reason to give a shit about you, so long as you kept their glasses full.
The weight of your curiosity caused your head to tilt to the side. You allowed a tiny smile to spread as you asked, “What gave me away?”
“Don’t get me wrong —” He held up his hands to prevent a reaction you’d never dream of giving. “It’s not obvious. You’ve got a better grasp than some of my friends do — which is kind of sad, actually. They’ve lived here their whole lives.”
He gifted you a reassuring smile, then came the true prize: he licked his lips absently before speaking again. You had to clench every single muscle in your body to keep from swooning.
That cannot be legal.
“I noticed it earlier, but you were already embarrassed. I didn’t want to risk making it worse.” Yoongi still looked like he was afraid to hurt your feelings. “When you word-vomit — like you did earlier — your consonants sound like they would in English.”
This linguistic assessment didn’t surprise you; it was dead-on. It didn’t embarrass you, either, but you blushed nonetheless. Without thinking, you mused, “Makes sense that you’re the first to say something. You spend more time overseas than most, right?”
For a split second, you swore you saw Yoongi frown. A little twinge, one you would’ve missed if you weren’t so fixated on his every micro-expression. If you could have, you would’ve hit the rewind button and reverted back thirty seconds.
Was it off-limits, finally acknowledging that you knew who you were dealing with? Did it bother him that you did know, and proceeded to speak to him like the glaring disparity between the two of you didn’t matter? Did it matter?
“You mean to tell me —” He started quietly with a flex of his eyebrow. You feared the worst, even though Yoongi didn’t strike you as the type to make your failure to fawn a problem. “— That the place you lived before wasn’t under a rock?”
As soon as he saw your expression morph from panic to blatant relief, his eyes crinkled until every one of his facial features contributed to his smile. It was difficult to process how an expression that gentle hit you like a punch, but it did, and you felt a bit dizzy.
Professionalism be damned, you cracked open another bottle of soju and filled not one, but two glasses. Yoongi smirked — likely unsurprised by your willingness to drink with him on the clock — and easily accepted the shot you slid his way.
“To the worst bartender in Seoul,” You cheered as you raised it.
He rolled his eyes at your self-depreciation, but followed your lead without any meaningful resistance. Like it was choreographed, you both downed your shots in unison. Straight, no chaser. Just the slight burn in the back of your throat and the very first thing your scrambled brain could think to say:
“Do you want to hear a joke?”
Yoongi was clearly stunned by your sudden maneuver, but you didn’t wait for him to co-sign your antics. You cleared your throat like you were about to say something worth hearing, then you warbled, “Knock, knock!”
You expected him to pause again; or worse, to leave you hanging entirely. It was, frankly, stupid how much of an effect the latter always had on you. You were a demented scientist and your bad joke was a litmus test, ready to reveal on the front-end what kind of person Yoongi really was.
Translation: Tell me now if I’m too much. I’m always too much.
“Who’s there?”
He didn’t hesitate. There was no blink of an eye, no breath taken in between your call and his response. This time, it was you who needed a split-second to buffer.
When your brain finally reloaded, you peeped, “Cargo.”
“Cargo who?” Yoongi asked slowly, growing visibly suspicious about where this stupid, stupid road was leading. Somehow, he looked as amused by you as he did continually bewildered.
Springing the trap, you accentuated your shitty punchline with a sing-song tone and pantomime for emphasis, “Car go beep beep!”
Nobody had ever — ever — looked at you the way Yoongi did when you concluded your comedy routine. As if your teary-eyed grin and raucous laughter were something beautiful; and your presence alone wasn’t killing off one, sorry brain cell for every minute that passed.
“Knock, knock,” Yoongi volleyed with a soft chuckle, and without breaking eye contact.
As if you weren’t too much.
Yoongi needed a minute to take inventory.
When he left his apartment at a quarter-til-eight, he was headed out for his first date in a long damn time. It was Seokjin’s setup and that girl’s letdown. For Yoongi, it was another drop in the bucket; one final reason to commit to life as a hermit.
Troll that he was, Yoongi was ready to crawl back under his bridge; emerging only to pose impossible riddles to passersby who didn’t know to stay away.
His brain had given him an out, but for once, he didn’t take it. So, what did he end up with instead?
You, sitting on the bar, going shot-for-shot with him; and telling your self-titled villain origin story with award-worthy narration.
Equally as enthralling as the story itself was the tangential webs you weaved along the way. As he’d already learned to expect, you apologized frequently for the way one thought trailed off in a direction you didn’t intend. He wished you didn’t; he had no trouble following wherever your mind led you.
You, born here but not raised here, returning to claim a master’s degree in photography and to reclaim what you felt you missed out on. Yoongi loved your foreign take on local foods, even if you hadn’t yet acquired a taste for pickled vegetables.
We’ll get you there, he’d promised.
You, gesturing with hand movements so impassioned they nearly knocked you off balance; right off the bar. He was down to listen to you talk about whatever — for any amount of time — because he could feel how much you cared about — well, everything.
Animated, fully alive, and so fucking refreshing.
Him, with one hand on his drink and the other hovering on the bar top near your hip — just in case your full-body laugh did, in fact, provoke a fall.
Yoongi, who do you think you’re fooling?
So, maybe it was never exclusively about concern for your safety — even though you’d demonstrated from the jump that it was warranted. Yoongi was quickly coming to realize that, when it came down to it, he simply liked having you close. He liked you, full stop.
Every now and then, you’d wiggle where you sat, and the denim of your jeans would brush against his knuckles. It was as innocent as contact could be, but for someone so secretly touch-starved, it was bliss. Is this the kind of feeling he gave up, locked away in his tower? It sure as shit made leaving feel worth it.
He was buzzed, sure, but not drunk enough to blame the warmth he was feeling on the liquor. Any flush on his cheeks would only be partly genetic. The rest of it was all you — and the way you talked with your whole body, and that giggle.
Seriously, what the fuck is that giggle? A wind-chime made out of stars?
“Yoongi?”
It didn’t dawn on him that he was staring until you called his name. Then, it dawned on him that he didn’t care if he’d been caught — not even a little bit. Red-handed, all Yoongi could do was smile up at you as you blinked down at him.
He’d thought it before and now he was thinking it again: You are goddamn delight.
You threw your head back and laughed. Maybe it was the soju, or how fucking obvious he made it that he was infatuated with you. Whatever the cause, the effect was music to his ears. He’d record it, if he could, and play it on loop to appease the butterflies going wild in his stomach.
Unfortunately, he was accurate in his prediction. The sudden movement of your laughter sent you reeling, but before you could fall, Yoongi was quick to intervene. He stood abruptly from his stool to secure you; one hand on your hip and the other — unintentionally — on your thigh.
“Shit — Sorry,” Yoongi muttered, though he was very much still holding you. Oh, fuck, his brain screamed as he glanced down at his hand on your thigh. Heart pounding, his gaze flitted from his touch to your face.
Your mouth was still slightly open, but that could’ve easily been attributed to the fact that you’d so narrowly avoided launching yourself headfirst at the ground. If it wasn’t that, then you were looking for the words to yell to get him to back off.
Those were the only possible explanations; and any minute now, his hand would accept his brain’s signal to pull away.
Any minute now. Any —
Yoongi watched it all happen in slow motion and he still couldn’t believe it when you leaned in. Or when your hair slipped over your shoulder and brushed against his. Or when you kissed him quick and pulled back just to smile from mere centimeters away.
“Impressive reflexes.” You were breathless but you still managed to sigh. Have you had freckles this whole time? “What’s that saying? Not all heroes wear Lewis Leathers?”
Your playful tug at his jacket had no force behind it, but even with his feet firmly planted, Yoongi knew that he was falling. His stomach fluttered from the pinnacle of that emotional rollercoaster and, for once, he wasn’t afraid of heights. He’d kiss you again and follow that thrill all the way down.
Or, he would have, if the bell above the door didn’t chime.
Just as quickly as you’d kissed him, you spun around and prepared to dismount from your perch on the bar. Yoongi’s hand still seemed to vibrate, even when you slipped out from underneath. It was absolutely ridiculous that his body missed you already — automatically — but he couldn’t think of any other explanation.
He wasn’t a violent person by any means, but he was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to throw the incoming patron out on their ass and lock the door behind them.
The audacity. Who does this clown think they are, coming into a place of business during their business hours? For fuck’s —
“Finally!” You squeaked as you stuck your landing. Then, you skipped around the edge of the bar and continued on your way towards the door.
Jesus Christ. Even the way you walk is cute.
Yoongi was initially too preoccupied with watching you to notice the intruder, but when he did, he couldn’t force the exasperated look off his face. That is, until he saw the panicked look on the prepubescent face of the delivery boy.
The poor kid’s eyes bugged out at Yoongi from under the brim of his uniform cap. Immediately, Yoongi felt inclined to atone, to bow. Instead, he offered a mildly apologetic grimace for the heart attack he didn’t mean to cause.
You accepted the bags of food into your arms, beaming like the fucking sun as you glanced over your shoulder to Yoongi. “You said you liked Hongdae Dakgalbi, right?”
Yes. Yes, he did. But his brain was spinning its wheels in the mud because —
What he finally said wasn’t a question, but it certainly sounded like one: “You ordered food.”
Clearly, Yoongi was missing something. He glanced around and confirmed that there was, in fact, an operational kitchen still situated at the far end of the room. He pointed to the small window carved out for taking and producing orders. “What about —?”
“Binna called off,” you shrugged through your explanation. Then, you tilted your head with a coy smile, “Were we supposed to starve?”
Yoongi had questions. A lot of them.
First and foremost: When did you summon takeout and how did you manage to go unnoticed in the process? He was certainly staring at you for long enough to catch it. Or maybe his heart-eyes were getting foggy with age.
Also, we? As in, you ordered food with the intention of sharing it with him? And you paid for it?
When his broken brain snapped back to attention, it registered the fact that you’d settled on top of the stool next to his. You either didn’t notice the smoke flying out of Yoongi’s ears, or you accepted his brain damage for what it was. Either way, you were too excited about the piping hot tteokbokki in front of you to notice the way he still lingered by the door.
The delivery boy was long gone by now; he took the first opportunity to get as much distance between himself and the visibly annoyed person he’d interrupted. Looking at it now, Yoongi’s fingers twitched with a desire to engage the deadbolt. But he didn’t — he, a coward, wouldn’t — so he simply reclaimed the spot next to you.
You immediately held up a pair of chopsticks as you fished out napkins with your other hand. Yoongi stared at them for too long, prompting you to look quizzically up at him. You asked no questions, and he couldn’t think of a single reason why he said it, but he blurted out:
“I’m supposed to be on a date.”
Unfazed by the lack of context, you gently tucked that pair of chopsticks into his useless hand. Yoongi blinked down at them like he didn’t know what to do with them. You went back to unpacking your takeout.
“And I’m supposed to be working,” You chirped, as if what he just said — unprompted — wasn’t completely idiotic. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Yoongi shook his head, praying it would knock his trapped thoughts loose. “I meant that I was supposed to be the one buying dinner.” He frowned down at the spread you’d provided. “If I knew you were hungry, I would’ve —“
“Taken a bite by now?” You teased with wiggling eyebrows. “Come on, Min Yoongi, you know the rules. The eldest eats first.”
Stunned wasn’t adequate. Entranced? His mouth hung open, primed to speak, without a single, coherent response on the horizon. Mystified, at the very least. You were always one step ahead of Yoongi, dancing off in a brand new direction.
How on Earth did you do it so easily? How were you so effortlessly bold when he couldn’t even blink without deliberating over the idea for days?
Yoongi wasn’t even jealous the way he would’ve expected to be, meeting his non-neurotic foil. He didn’t want to steal that spark for himself, or try to mimic your fearlessness. If he could just continue to witness it, that would be enough.
You threw him off again when you plucked a small piece of tteokbokki from one of the cardboard containers below and gently maneuvered it into his unwitting, waiting mouth.
Game over. Min Yoongi is done for.
“There we go,” You cooed with a smirk. Then, those chopsticks grabbed a piece of tteokbokki of your very own. You smiled adoringly down at it, winked up at him, and said, “Now we’re off to the races.”
After several minutes of deeply contented, quiet chewing, you turned slightly to gaze at him. You didn’t say anything at first; you simply watched and let your lips curve slightly into an understated smile. Yoongi didn’t care if that was all you did because — for once — he felt seen.
Eventually, you did speak. Your voice was soft, barely casting a ripple through the silence. “Can I ask?”
Your eyes scanned over his face for permission. Yoongi had no idea what your question was, but he doubted that he was capable of saying no to you. Fire at will.
“About the date you’re not on,” You clarified.
The one I was supposed to be on, or the one I might be on instead?
“Why aren’t you on it?”
He didn’t know how to explain any of it without sounding pathetic. He knew he’d rather die than have to relay his earlier misfortune to Seokjin; somehow, though, Yoongi didn’t hesitate to respond to you. Like everything else about the past few hours, it felt laughably easy.
“She’s a friend of a friend,” He began as soon as he wiped excess gochujang from the corner of his mouth.
“He basically harassed me into asking her out because I, uh — I don’t get out much. And I know a lot of people say that, but I really do mean it. You can probably guess as much from my frighteningly translucent complexion.”
Your mouth hitched up at the corner when he joked, but you didn’t laugh. In some odd way, he was grateful that you didn’t — not just because you didn’t enable his self-depreciation, but because you seemed too invested in what he was saying to interrupt him.
Nobody had ever looked at him quite like that before.
He cleared his throat, then he pressed on, “So, I did — and that part was fine. After that, though, I don’t think I slept at all. For, like, days. Now, I think I was just dreading the whole thing, but while it was happening, I figured I was nervous. Rusty, you know?”
Yoongi looked down at his hands, which fidgeted autonomously with his chopsticks. “I put way too much thought into the whole thing — I always do — even though I had this feeling that nothing was going to happen the way I planned.”
He paused, poked mindlessly at a lump of rice, and exhaled a breath he hadn’t intentionally held. Nothing had happened the way he planned, but if it did, who would’ve hand-fed him tteokbokki because they were too impatient to wait?
You dropped your chin in your hand as you continued to watch him. Wordlessly, you reached out with your other hand. Yoongi noticed just in time as you gently removed a piece of lint that had stuck to the tip of his jacket collar. Your eyes followed it as it floated off towards the floor.
Yoongi couldn’t see anything but you.
“You picked this place,” you murmured. Slowly, your eyes drifted back up to his face; he froze solid. The only thing moving was the pounding heart in his chest. “Must mean a lot to you.”
He wanted to be brave and tell you that it meant even more now. He wasn’t brave, though, so he swallowed that thought down with a mouthful of soju.
“She was not a fan, as it turns out. Hated it so much, just from the sidewalk, that she jumped right back in her taxi — yelled at me through the window that she deserved better than to drink bottom-shelf liquor in a dumpster with me.”
You furrowed your eyebrows and he wondered which part of that statement bothered you the most. Having your place of employment referred to as a dumpster would be a reasonable sore spot; one he probably should’ve avoided. Fuck. Could he rewind thirty seconds and omit that part?
“Well,” you frowned, “Joke’s on her. This dumpster has exactly one bottle on its top shelf, and it was apparently reserved just for you.”
He could kiss you. He really, really could.
You shifted on your stool, though, and stared out into the middle-distance at nothing in particular. Deep in thought, too, judging by the way your frown curved even further.
“It’s kind of funny, in a shitty sort of way. She more or less told you that you’re not enough, and people love to tell me that I’m too much.”
It was Yoongi’s turn to frown. Who in their right mind could look at you, experience the goddamn magnet that you are, and willingly detach themselves from you? The thought alone made his jaw clench.
There hadn’t been a single second since he met you — albeit, not that long ago — where he didn’t want to see and know more of you. Where he didn’t beg those seconds to slow the fuck down because the night kept moving faster than he wanted it to.
So far, no amount of time felt like enough.
“You’d think it would be nice, being everyone’s favorite new toy,” You laughed, to Yoongi’s surprise.
Looking genuinely amused, you glanced over your shoulder at him. “And I guess, for a minute, it really is. You do your silly song and dance; and everyone loves you — until they don’t anymore. Eventually, your tricks get boring; you burn them out; then they take out your batteries. You get shelved pretty quickly.”
There was a flicker of genuine hurt in your eyes, but you were smiling when you picked your glass up off the bar and raised it. “To always being the wrong amount!” You giggled.
“Nah.” Yoongi shook his head. He grabbed his drink, touched his glass to yours, and winked, “To being just right.”
One way or another, you spent most nights watching the clock, holding your breath, and waiting for midnight.
On New Year’s Eve, it was hope that bloomed bright in your chest like fireworks. When those final seconds dissolved, it meant closing one chapter and opening another. Something bigger, something better, something blank for you to fill in. A year in fresh white paper, with every color at your disposal.
Ten — nine —
For the rest of your midnights, it was relief that finally allowed you to unclench your jaw and drop your stiff shoulders. Closing time. Freedom to clean up, clear out, and drag your tired, little body back up to your apartment.
Thankfully, when your work hours were over, there were only three flights of stairs separating you from your bed, your cat, and your Netflix subscription.
Eight — seven —
Tonight was an outlier, a statistical anomaly. As the short hand inched closer and closer to twelve, your pulse picked up its pace. For once, it wasn’t relief and it certainly wasn’t hope. It was distinctively dread forming a pit in your stomach.
Even more than that, it was a telepathic plea shooting out from your brain that begged, and begged, and begged for more time. Five more minutes, just five more minutes.
Six — five —
You felt stupid, of course, because you knew that neither of you would turn into a pumpkin when the clock struck midnight. There was no spell, just two strangers who happened to be in the same bar at the same time, with bad jokes and a bottle of Tanqueray.
No bomb would detonate, no one would drop dead. When it was over, you’d simply go home, and Yoongi would go home and then…
Four —
That “and then what?” had you frantic. What if this moment ended and nothing followed? What if the magic didn’t survive the night?
You couldn’t take that disappointment; you knew that much. Gripping tight to your last first night, you tore your eyes away from the clock and looked at Yoongi.
He didn’t notice you staring because he had also become fixated on the clock ahead. His brow furrowed just slightly as he observed it, and you wondered what it meant.
Three —
You knew what you hoped it meant.
For all you knew, though, he might’ve been begging that hand to move faster. The end all, be all of justifications to say goodnight and go. To drop the moment in the bin with the spent, citrus garnishes on the way out; and then crawl back into that bed he spoke so fondly of.
The way you did whenever four zeroes lined up in a row like cartoon cherries on a slot machine. A personal jackpot any other midnight, but the farthest thing from a prize now.
Two —
No. You refused to believe that.
In the reality you’d chosen, he was strapped into that rollercoaster car beside you. He felt his stomach flip the way yours did as you stared down at the path ahead. You didn’t know how you knew it, but you were sure that you weren’t up there alone.
So, when the countdown was over, you took a deep breath and stated, “I’m calling a time-out.”
In actuality, it was more than a statement. It was a shout and it startled him so badly that he flinched.
As soon as he resettled on his stool, Yoongi’s neck could’ve snapped with how quickly he turned to look at you. His eyes were wider than you’d seen them at any point in the last four hours. Those once-knitted brows shot up to kiss the blonde strands brushing against his forehead.
You envied them, as stupid as that was.
“You’re — what?” He peeped.
Even louder than before, you blurted out your explanation. “I’m stopping the clock!”
You might’ve been the sole American in the entire neighborhood, but you could guarantee that you still knew less about football than Yoongi did. Knowing all of that didn’t stop you from making your worst attempt at a metaphor, or throwing your hand out to mime your way through it.
“Flag on the play — or whatever, I don’t know.”
At first, his expression didn’t change and you began to panic. Maybe you could duck down behind the bar and he’d eventually forget that you were hiding there. Then he wouldn’t see how pink your cheeks were; how the hope in your eyes bordered on desperate.
Shockingly, you weren’t delusional. You’d simply underestimated him.
Yoongi glanced down at his watch — already two minutes into Sunday — and then back to you. “Wow. Would you look at that? Only a minute til midnight.”
You could kiss him; you really, really could.
“Do you want to, uh, hang out? With me? Like, not here?”
Yoongi was smirking slightly at your stammering, just enough for you to notice, but you didn’t faint the way your body wanted you to. Instead, you doubled down.
“I live in the apartment upstairs, and this isn’t a proposition — it’s also not, not a proposition — but I need to lock-up here, and I still want you with me when I’m done.”
He blinked rapidly like you’d once again shook him off your tail. You watched in slow motion as his smirk dropped, and his brows dipped back into thoughtful wrinkles at the lowest part of his forehead. It hurt, physically somehow, that there was something to consider.
Were you really this egregiously wrong in your conclusions, or had he finally hit his quota with you and decided that you — this — were too much, too soon?
You wanted to explain yourself, to say that you were just offering for him to come up and sit on your couch with you. Because you wanted to keep this night alive and keep talking for as long as you could. Because this was something and you knew it.
You opened your mouth to do so, but he was the quicker draw.
Yoongi looked genuinely conflicted and you believed him when he said, “I don’t think I can. I have to be up in four hours to —”
“It’s okay!” You chirped. Stupid little bird, flying headlong into a window. You smiled and prayed it looked genuine, but Yoongi didn’t look convinced. Still, you breezed, “Raincheck, then — maybe.”
Maybe when you take the trash out later, you can heave yourself into the dumpster with it.
Deciding that your disappointment shouldn’t be his burden, you grabbed the takeout containers from the counter and whisked yourself over to the trash bin to discard them.
In a magnificent showing of restraint, you didn’t stuff yourself inside it, too. Instead, your tidy tornado kept spinning, picking up every glass you encountered and shoving them hurriedly into the dishwasher below the bar.
Are you suddenly Employee of the Month? Why is this the moment you choose to actually do your job?
With your hip, you nudged the dishwasher door closed much more clumsily than usual. Then, you began wiping down the counter at warp speed; damn near scrubbing a hole straight though the wood.
Why are you so frazzled? Are you really this sensitive after being politely turned down by someone you just met? This is what they mean when they say you’re “too much,” and you know what? They’re right.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Yoongi asked because he was lovely.
You were, as it turned out, as bad an actor as you were a bartender. Your reassuring smile was more unsettling than anything else, but you hoped that — maybe — the shake of your head was enough to dispel the concern from his face.
In case it wasn’t, you quipped, “You’ve already done more than your fair share of cleaning tonight, I think. Thanks again for that, by the way. I ran out bandages, so…”
Your sentence petered out when you finally looked up and locked eyes with Yoongi. His expression was indecipherable and, only for a moment, it made your hurried hands stop moving.
“So, I’m glad you came in,” You finished through an exhale, quiet to the point that it was hardly audible. You hoped he heard you, though, as loudly and clearly as you meant it.
Straightening up, you dropped your bar rag into the “dirty shit” bucket underneath the counter. You quickly wiped your hands against your jeans, laughed with no real joy behind it, and hid your wobbling voice behind a poorly imitated French accent, “Et voilà.”
Yoongi was still staring, still unreadable. For a few moments, you simply looked at one another. Neither one of you made a sound — at least, nobody spoke. There were gears grinding in his head, judging by the look on his face, and you swore you could hear them from across the bar.
“I guess I should — um,” Yoongi eventually muttered as he gestured to the door. He briefly glanced at it, but you doubted that he registered what he was looking at.
Oddly, it wasn’t awkwardness that seemed to have him short-circuiting — not as far as you could tell. It was like his brain was moving faster than it could form words, leaving his mouth open with nothing to say.
You nodded. You knew where he was going with this, and you didn’t want to prolong whatever he was so visibly toiling with.
“Yeah, of course,” You squeaked. Somewhere, the world’s tiniest violin began to play as the corner of your mouth hitched up. “I’ll see you around, I hope?”
Then, Yoongi’s gaze dropped to the phone in his hand. If he heard your question, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, deep in thought, he mumbled, “I need to — fuck, okay —” Urgently, he looked back up at you and said firmly, “I’ll call.”
He dashed out the door before you realized the problem with his plan: he had no way to call you.
You’d been so caught up in each other that you never thought to exchange phone numbers. Not only was he now gone, but he hadn’t actually said goodbye.
Seems kind of fitting that yours is the only fairytale without a happy ending, huh?
You occupied the borderline between being a hopeless romantic and a masochist, so you immediately decided that, if you ran, you might catch him before he was truly gone.
Kiss him or kick him, it didn’t matter — you just couldn’t let it end like this.
You skirted around the bar and darted to the door, throwing it open and shocking the bell above it. You were already out on the sidewalk before it had the chance to chime. It was the only sound, and it echoed through otherwise dead air.
Similarly, you were the only person on the street. Judging by the dark windows lining the road, you were the only proof of life in that little corner of Seoul. The lack of visible stars was likely due to light pollution, but you wouldn’t be surprised if they dipped out on you, too.
No matter how many times you looked up and down the street, Yoongi didn’t appear. So, you closed your eyes like an idiot, and wished on a star you couldn’t see that he’d be there when you re-opened them. Standing on the other side of the street, laughing, and asking how you’d missed him on your thirty previous scans.
But he wasn’t.
Yoongi had disappeared like smoke right through your fingers; exiting your night as abruptly as he’d entered it.
You weren’t inclined to stand on the sidewalk all night, stunned by your complete failure to see the plot for what it was. You slipped from the sidewalk, through the front door, and locked it behind you. And once you did, you stood there with your hand on the deadbolt for several moments — just in case.
When no one came to knock, you turned all the lights out and flipped the sign in the front window from open to closed. From there, you made your way to the back of the storage room. Finally reaching the stairwell door in the far corner, you unlocked it slowly like the wait would make a difference.
As you climbed the three flights to your apartment’s entrance, the night’s events formed a whirlpool in your mind. The playback settled it: there was simply no way that you were this wrong — not about this.
Clearly, you weren’t clairvoyant to the extent that Yoongi seemed to be. You hadn’t seen it coming when you nearly fell backwards off the bar, but he did. He’d kept his hand close all night like he sensed you’d need it. Just like he sensed every rock, paper, and scissor.
Even still, it felt like a premonition every time you turned to look at him at the same time he did; and you couldn’t put a finger on it.
That something was more than simply chatting with a person stuck in your close proximity — more than commiserating and drinking simultaneously. That was the nature of your job: circumstantial friendship. Not uncommon, not designed to last beyond last call.
This, though? Cosmic interfere or craziness, maybe, but not nothing. You weren’t superstitious and you didn’t necessarily believe in fate, but the odds of all of this had to be shockingly low.
It felt cinematic, in a way, or straight out of a dream. You would have believed it either way if the pinch of your fingers on your forearm didn’t debunk both theories. It was all too perfectly timed to be a coincidence, though, you knew that much.
Out of all the nights you’d worked at this bar — and all the years he’d been a customer — this was the one time your paths had crossed. And when they finally did, he found you right when you needed him. The same, you hoped, could be said for him.
Too Much meeting Not Enough, proving perfect balance. It was just right, but the ending didn’t fit.
Sure, he knew where to find you — but that was assuming he wanted to. With his quick and wordless departure, your confidence in that assumption wavered as you unlocked your apartment door and stepped inside.
The ball’s over, Cinderella. Sorry about your shoe.
When his third call went to voicemail, Yoongi was ready to launch his phone down the alley.
There was no fucking way that Seokjin — of all people — was asleep already. This could not be the night that he turned off whatever game he was playing and went to bed at a reasonable hour. Seokjin was rarely reasonable. As it turned out, he wasn’t reachable, either.
Yoongi growled, kicking the nearby dumpster. He thought that some explosion of physical activity might take the focus off his anxiety, but it didn’t — it just made his foot hurt.
“Fuck!”
He didn’t even want to make the plans he was now trying desperately to reschedule. He didn’t like fishing; he liked his friend, and his friend liked fishing. So, Yoongi agreed to share the cost of renting a boat that he would have to leave at five o’clock in the morning to catch.
If it's 00:17 now, I have three hours and forty-three minutes until —
The unexpected chiming of his phone stopped Yoongi’s pacing before he could wear a trench into the concrete. “Finally!”
“Do you always yell at people instead of greeting them?” Seokjin scoffed. As expected, Yoongi could hear some sort of video game blaring in the background.
Typical.
“Hyung, I’m so sorry, but I'm not going to make it back in time. Can we re-schedule this fishing thing?”
Yoongi felt awful for having to ask in the first place, but he felt even worse as he anticipated Seokjin’s reaction. Yoongi swallowed disappointment and stewed in it. Seokjin was quite the opposite, and Yoongi didn’t want to ruin his night.
To Yoongi’s surprise, he did not get yelled at the way he expected to. Instead, he got Seokjin’s juvenile, sing-song voice directed right into his ear, “Ooh, staying with Hyunjoo, are we?”
Yoongi, having completely lost the plot, paused for a moment before asking, “Who?”
“What?”
Oh, fuck, was that her name? It’d slid out of his brain the second that abuse slid out of her mouth.
Quick to avoid that conversation, Yoongi sputtered, “I’ll give you the story tomorrow, hyung, but I really need to go. Can we push the fishing thing to another day?"
“Oh, I forgot to book the boat, so don’t worry about it!” Seokjin cheered and Yoongi was this close to following through with chucking his phone like a grenade. “Have fun with —”
Not inclined to wait another second, Yoongi hung up and turned to sprint up the alley towards the bar’s entrance. When he reached it and found the lights out, he skidded to a stop so forcefully that he almost fell over. What the fuck? He tugged at the door handle just to make sure he wasn’t missing something.
Didn’t he tell you he was going to make a phone call?
Fuck! He'd said I'll call. He didn't say that he was going to call Seokjin, and he sure as shit hadn't clarified that he was going to do so right that second. There'd been no explanation, no “please wait because I promise I’m coming right back for you" — just a mad dash out the door to get rid of the only thing standing between him and more time with you.
Shit, shit, shit.
Yoongi never indulged in unadulterated rage because he decided a long time ago that it took more effort than it was worth. In that moment, though, he felt the overwhelming urge to punch himself right in the face. How did he fuck it all up this badly?
Instead, Yoongi scrubbed his hands over his face and begged his brain to figure out a better plan. He couldn’t just call you because he was too busy making googly eyes at you to ask for your number. He couldn’t pick the lock because it was illegal — and because he didn’t know how.
Unable to do anything else, Yoongi threw his head back with every intention of screaming at the sky. But before he could let his frustration rip out of his mouth, he saw it: his saving grace.
Mere moments after he sprinted up the alley, Yoongi was tearing back down it like his life depended on it. The end of the iron emergency ladder sat too high off the ground for him to comfortably reach it, but — thankfully — he had garbage at his disposal. Without a second thought, he stacked whatever semi-sturdy trash he could find to bridge the gap between him and your fire escape.
With all the strength and recklessness of a lovestruck teenager, Yoongi threw his twenty-four-year-old body upwards and grabbed hold of the nearest rung.
Maybe you overestimated that strength a little bit, eh, Yoongi?
He gritted his teeth and pulled himself up enough to swing a leg up, too. Groaning triumphantly, he hooked the bottom of his shoe on the lowest rung.
From there, it was easy enough to reach the first landing. When it came time for Yoongi to tackle the other two, he picked up the pace — and he didn’t give a shit about how sore he’d be tomorrow.
Finally, finally, finally, he reached his destination. Unfortunately, that fleeting moment of relief was replaced by fear as he stooped down to knock on your window. Staring back at him through the darkness was a pair of big, yellow eyes.
Yoongi shouted as he stumbled away from the window. He knocked over a planter on his way down, landing on his ass with a crash and a grunt. Adding insult to injury, that black cat looked positively smug as it stared down at him.
It was quiet when you called out — in English — from another room. “Toph, did you break something? I thought we talked about this, bub." As your voice grew closer, you switched to Korean, "You can't ruin my stuff until you start contributing to this household.”
What's the incubation period for lovesickness?
Yoongi heard footsteps headed towards whatever room he’d failed to break and enter. He saw the light as it flicked on, and then he saw you — wearing a fluffy, tan headband with little, round ears at the top —with a bare face glistening as if you’d just finished tending to it.
Oh, fuck. Is lovesickness terminal?
If your eyes opened any wider, they might’ve fallen right out of your skull. They would’ve landed where Yoongi did — in the mass grave of pepper sprouts he’d just outright annihilated. But they stayed beautiful where they belonged, and you simply gawked at each other.
Yoongi spoke first despite not thinking first. “Toph? Like, Beifong?”
Your shock gave way to the biggest, brightest smile and Yoongi was thankful it didn’t blind him. If it did, he would’ve missed the way your cheeks went pink to match the tips of your ears. Whatever the shade, it was his new favorite color.
Just bury me in this potting soil, doll. I'm dead.
“Yoongi,” You started with a giggle that turned into a hum when you pursed your lips and tilted your head. Your eyes narrowed and then you asked, “Any reason why you chose the fire escape over the door?”
The what?
Sensing his confusion, you leaned out the window and pointed. Yoongi’s eyes followed the invisible line from your fingertip until they located an awning, which sat mere meters away from his impromptu stepstool made of trash.
Inwardly, he winced. Outwardly, he turned to you with a lopsided smile. “I was checking out your little garden."
Yoongi cleared his throat, now wincing outwardly, “And, uh — then I killed it, a little bit. I promise I’ll replace everything as soon as the shops open. I am so —”
“Cold? I bet,” You interrupted with a smirk, “Come inside then, Min Yoongi. Just don’t break the window too, alright?”
You didn’t have to tell him twice.
Immediately, he was on his feet, furiously dusting potting soil off the back of his legs. When he suspected that he’d gotten it all, Yoongi turned around and glanced at you over his shoulder. Even without a question, you knew what he was asking; you signaled okay with your fingers and a giggle.
With more care than he’d ever shown in his life, Yoongi crawled through the gap you created when you ducked back through the window. Once he had his feet underneath him again, he quickly toed off his shoes and plucked them off the tile.
As soon as he was upright again, you took his wrist in your hand — oh god, your skin is so criminally soft — and led him through your kitchen to the living room.
Gently, you set his shoes down on the mat beside your front door. Then, you turned back around to gaze up at him. Looking at that face of yours, Yoongi forgot every word he’d ever learned. It was just his hammering heart beating in time with yours, until:
“So, this is where I live.”
You were close enough that Yoongi could smell the toothpaste on your breath when you spoke, but still too far. You must’ve thought so, too, because you shifted your weight to your other foot and wound up slightly nearer to him.
Yoongi hummed in reply, though he could barely hear it over his pulse pounding in his ears, “It’s nice.”
He didn’t actually know if that was the case because he’d spent every second so far staring at you, but he had faith that you’d prove him right.
More quiet, more anticipation disguised as quickening breaths.
Like a magnet, you drew him in. Yoongi echoed every tiny move you made towards him until the distance was gone; and he could feel the heat of your body mere centimeters from his.
This close, he could see flecks of gold in your irises that he hadn’t noticed before. Yoongi knew he shouldn't have been surprised. If he'd learned a single thing tonight it was that hidden treasures were par for the course with you.
“Yoongi.”
It was baffling how you could sound so shy, even with desire blowing your pupils wide. Just as confounding was the fact that Yoongi knew, without question, that you felt it, too — that this new and perfect something was the start of everything.
“Please, just kiss me already.”
That wasn’t an opportunity he’d ever expect to turn down.
You were already breathless, weightless, and floating in fucking space when you finally crossed over the threshold into your bedroom.
Because, fuck, that man took your oxygen with him whenever his lips left yours. Without even trying, he’d fashioned himself into a ventilator that you really might suffocate without.
Thankfully, whenever he pulled away, he didn’t stray far. Even as you both stumbled towards your unmade bed, tripping over obstacles — up to and including Toph, whose favorite spot was between your ankles — there was always one hand on your hip and another lacing fingers through your hair.
As you moved, you couldn’t help thinking of the leftovers you’d brought home from work before. All single-use encounters, wastes of time that you normally didn’t care to recall. Though he may end up being the last, Yoongi wasn’t the first person to have you in this position.
He was, however, the only person to rescind his tongue just to comment on the tiny, design details of your shit-box apartment.
“How did you —” He paused to moan into your mouth when your teeth gently claimed his bottom lip. “Find a place with — oh, fuck, you taste like spearmint – original crown-molding in this —” The back of his knees bumped into the edge of your mattress and suddenly, he was sitting. “Neighborhood?”
There was no way you could ever explain Min Yoongi’s duality. He was unequivocally, fatally hot — and simultaneously, he was the most endearing, grandfatherly person you’d ever encountered. Somehow, this mind-boggling man turned architectural factoids into dirty talk.
You might orgasm on the spot if he brought up your built-ins, and you didn’t know or care what that said about you as a person.
“I’ll show you the blueprints later if you want,” you giggled while Yoongi ‘s cheeks flushed. Before he could find a reason to feel embarrassed, you tilted his chin up in order to kiss him properly. As you did, you murmured against his lips, “But if you take those jeans off, there’s something else I’d like to show you first.”
Your little finger was near to his throat as you held his chin captive, so you felt it when it when he growled. Against your knuckle, in your chest, and in that growing ache in between your thighs. There was roughness in him that you’d only seen snippets of, but you’d bet that you could pull it out if you tried.
Maybe not now while you were both masking nerves, but eventually.
When Yoongi made to stand, you backed up to give him room to do so. You were already on your knees when his belt came off, unbuttoning his jeans before the leather even hit the floor. As you pulled that zipper down — slowly and carefully — you glanced up at him from under your lashes and watched the breath catch in his chest.
It wasn’t the first time you noticed how fucking beautiful he was; in fact, that thought had been looping through your mind all night. But there was something new in his expression as he observed you taking his cock into your hand.
Something reverent, like he believed he should be the one on their knees.
A few languid, kitten licks at the tip, and his eyelids fluttered. They screwed shut entirely as you ran the flat of your tongue along the vein underneath. When your mouth finally enveloped him fully, his head drooped backwards as he groaned.
Your name would never sound better than it did exhaled from Yoongi’s chest.
More often than not, fellatio felt like an obligation. A quid pro quo, you always figured, though none of them kept up their end of the deal. But with Yoongi buried in the wet heat of your mouth, it was a gift you might never get tired of giving. Every breathy moan and involuntary twitch felt like a prize — and still, neither came close to the way it felt when he looked at you.
In those fleeting moments when he could focus, of course.
“I’m fucking dreaming,” Yoongi groaned, bringing his hands up and scrubbing them over his face. “Shit. Perfect figment of my imagination, that’s the only explanation for you. Where the fuck have you been my whole life?”
You hummed as you let him slip out of your mouth. In turn, it prompted a flurry of expletives to slip out of his. Tracing a feather-light line from hilt to head, you smirked up at him, “Waiting at a bar for you to show up, Min Yoongi. You sure did take your time.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” He laughed, “I already plan to regret that for the next — I don't know — forever?”
He dropped his hands from over his eyes and held them out to you. “Come here, angel. You’re too far away.”
As soon as you were back on your feet, Yoongi enveloped you in the warmth of his arms. You were halfway to melting when he kissed you; dead and gone when he laid you back against the mattress; and downright astral projecting when the weight of his body was added to yours.
Not to be dramatic, but is heaven a place on Earth?
With your head resting comfortably on the pillow, you gazed up at Yoongi as he addressed the tied waistband of your sweatpants. It wasn’t until that knot came undone that you realized: if he’d come home with you earlier — before you’d swapped out your street clothes for shapeless knits — he would’ve had a prettier present to unwrap.
Lace over your hip bones instead of cotton briefs. A black, balconette bra that made your tits into something worth looking at; not lackluster bareness that barely registered under your paint-stained t-shirt.
Unintentionally mimicking him, you covered your face with your hands to conceal the way you were blushing. You didn’t even dare to peek through your fingers at him while he dragged your sweatpants down over your legs.
That is, not until you heard the world’s softest chuckle and it hit you like a bus.
“Pretty girl,” Yoongi hummed. He left a chaste kiss on the top of your left thigh, and you whimpered. So sweet, so brief that your skin still tingled when he moved to mirror that kiss on your right thigh. “Where’d you go, baby?”
Baby.
That settled it. Min Yoongi was trying to kill you.
Nobody kissed you that carefully, not ever. No man, no woman, no one in between or beyond spoke to you that softly; turned you to putty in their hands with gentleness alone. Not like he did.
You were going to love him — you already knew it — and that stupid, four-letter word just sealed your fate. There wasn’t a single thing that you could do to prevent it, even if you wanted to. So, your options were limited to one:
Leaning into the fall.
You reached out with the hand that once covered your face and grabbed him by the shirt to pull him closer. Once he was within range, with the tip of his nose bumping into yours, you stared him dead in the eye and told him just how badly you needed him inside of you.
It took no time at all for the two of you to cast aside what remained of your clothing. Hand-me-downs mingled with designer items that exceeded the cost of your rent, and you didn’t give a fuck. You discarded your inhibitions in that heap, too, sitting up on your knees as he rolled a condom down his length.
Yoongi’s return to you was marked by his hands cupping your face. He kissed you until you were no longer breathless, until you felt the rush of air filling your lungs. You followed his lead back down to the mattress where he rested on his side; and without any need for instruction, you draped your right leg over his hip.
It was the closet you’d been to him, but it still wasn’t close enough
“Is this okay?” Yoongi broke the kiss just to look at you.
The fondness in his eyes was competing with concern, but that didn’t surprise you. Considerate to a fault, he’d no doubt been thrown for a loop when you went from zero to one hundred in merely half a second. “I can —”
Oh, I bet you can.
But you couldn’t wait. Impatient, through and through — and thoroughly dripping — you shook your head.
Your hand left its place on his bare bicep and dipped down to wrap around his cock. There were two individual heartbeats hammering in sync as you guided him to your cunt, though it sounded a lot like one.
“Like you said earlier,” You sighed as he pushed into you. “Just right.”
Six years later...
tagging: @mgthecat @jihopesjoint @jaejoontrashpanda @taebaelove @cyanide-mustard @xjoonchildx @borahae-k @i-purple-buff-bunni @pamzn @myimaginationsrunningwild @nonbinary-demonbrat @yoongiphoria @sstarryoong @xcherrywaltz @btschimeyplanet @persphonesorchid @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @goodsoop @jkoofier (couldn't tag)
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likes are always appreciated, but it's feedback that means the most — whether that's in a comment below, PM, reblog, tags, etc. tysm for reading ✨
a/n: holy shit. just, holy shit. i've spent less time on literal thesis papers than i did on this. i'm so thankful for everyone who blew up darksided and blindsided — i really hope this provides context for how these two got together, and how tf they love each other that much. i will not apologize for the sexual cliffhanger because this smut wasn't going to be included, initially! this was going to end at the bar, lol.
also, this is an ode to those very special (very impermanent) nights with someone new that feel like perfect lifetimes in just the span of a few hours. in my experience, they never went anywhere (which i think made them more special, in hindsight) but i wanted to write a fic where things didn't stop there.
anyways, i'm very tired of writing words now, so please enjoy and let me know what you think 🫶🏻
#myg#min yoongi#yoongi#suga#bts#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts fluff#bts smut#yoongi fanfiction#yoongi fanfic#yoongi fic#yoongi fluff#yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi x y/n#min yoongi fluff#min yoongi smut#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x you#min yoongi x y/n#re: darksided#re: blindsided#re: foresight#suga fluff#suga smut#bts suga#jade writes
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Hi sweet pea.Could you write something about reader being in a famous like rock or metal band and basically being a total slut but then she gets a girlfriend (Ellie) and tells everyone she has a girlfriend but not showing anyone what Ellie looks like or telling them her name and then one day reader is doing an interview with another band who they are on tour with and talks about having a girlfriend and the other band is like wtf no u don’t ur literally a whore and then reader brining Ellie out to show them
it’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable doing this okay bye love you <3
omfg sweat pea??? literally marrying you rn cause that's so cute!! also i literally LOVE this idea like rockstar ellie has been on the brain!!
also i followed the main inspo of your ask, but changed it slightly, sorry!! i just think it fit better as i was in the middle of writing!
enjoy my love!!
p.s. love you too!!
"rock n' fucking roll" (rockstar!ellie x rockstar!reader)
word count: 3.5k
warnings: 18+, lowercase intended, switch!ellie, switch!reader, marijuana use, ellie is kinda a loser for reader, twinge of angst from ellie, smut, they fuck while high but they're like barely high, ellie has a happy trail and a hairy pussy, cunnilingus, nipple sucking, fingering, relationship talk, love confessions, mutual pining, reader has nipple piercings bc i'm living vicariously through this
also i am not really knowledgable of bands, music, or performing, so if something is inaccurate, you saw nothing...
important note: ellie and reader are referred to as "sluts" in this fic. that is simply for the purpose of the story and because the anon asked for that specific element. i do not encourage or condone slut shaming of any sort
tags: @m-3-ijiworld @seraqhites @uraesthete @hehatesmati @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @elliespookie @dropsofs4turn @millersaurora @jjmaybankslittleslut @lonelyfooryouonly
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can't stay at home, can't stay in school
old folks say, "you poor little fool"
down the streets i'm the girl next door
i'm the fox you've been waiting for
hello, daddy, hello, mom
i'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb
the music is deafening in your ears as you begin to perform. singing your heart out to the angry and aggressive beat, with ellie by your side on bass, and dina behind you on drums.
the venue was dirty and full of drunk and stumbling people, but you didn't care. not when the sound of the bass was nearly rupturing your eardrums as you swayed your hips in your miniskirt and pranced across the stage, mic in hand. your thighs were adorned with provocative garters and ripped tights, and your shirt was a 90's baby tee with some alt band's logo plastered on the front. you were a perfect mix of girly, provocative, and alt, just unashamed to be yourself when on stage.
ellie was quite the opposite next to you. her dirty and beaten black converse stomped the floor to the beat of dina's drums. she wore ripped, tight jeans, with a vintage flannel opened over a white wife pleaser.
her guitar was cherry red, almost the same shade as the lipstick you were wearing, and she had her signature rainbow guitar strap slung over her shoulder.
pouring your soul out into the lyrics and feeling the music, you fell to your knees on the dirty stage, whipping your hair around messily as you stared into the audience. you felt ellie get closer to you, standing just above you and looking down at you with a nefarious glint in her eyes as her fingers flew over her guitar strings.
the song finally came to an end, and you sung the lyrics as you continued to hold ellie's gaze.
hello world i'm your wild girl
i'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb
cherry bomb
cherry bomb
cherry bomb
cherry bomb
cherry bomb
ellie strung her guitar a few more times, letting the sound echo through the room before reaching her hand down to grab you by the chin, pulling your head upwards and signaling you to stand up. her signal of dominance sent the crowd into a frenzy. cheers and screams filled the room as you heard distant comments like "i love you ellie!!" and "top me please ellie!"
you just rolled your eyes at the panic of the crowd. you were used to ellie's stage antics at this point, and you knew it was for nothing more than attention and crowd engagement. besides, you always had your own fans at the shows. finally standing to your feet and catching your breath, you spoke into the mic.
"thank you all so much for coming out tonight, you guys were amazing! have a great night!"
you, ellie, and dina all threw up peace signs at the cheering crowd before retreating backstage. the three of you were exhausted, all covered in sweat but high off adrenaline and the praise of your fans.
you all entered the green room and found yourselves collapsing into the nearest chairs. ellie handed you and dina bottles of water to ease your sore throat and dehydrated states.
"wow, what a fucking night," ellie commented.
"yeah, i think you made about half the girls out there drop their panties," you teased.
"oh shut up."
"come on, don't act like you don't know what you're doing," dina chimed in.
ellie could only laugh and roll her eyes before letting her head roll back and rest on the plush chair, too tired to argue with the both of you.
after a few minutes of reflecting on the night's show and wolfing down water and snacks, you noticed dina making her way out of the room. when you asked her where she was going, she explained that she had made plans earlier with her friend jesse and was going to be out the whole night. how she had the energy to go out after that show, you had no idea, but you honestly didn't care in your exhausted state.
you suddenly realized how much pain you were in, and how uncomfortable and sticky your outfit had become, and you felt a need to change immediately. all you wanted was just to go back to the band trailer and slip on some comfy clothes and relax the rest of the night.
ellie clearly had similar ideas.
"hey, wanna go back to the trailer and smoke and chill the rest of the night?"
"fuck yeah"
back at the trailer, you wasted little time before making a beeline for the shower. you nearly moaned at the pleasurable feeling of washing away all the sweat and exhaustion from your skin. you probably wasted too much time in that small room, but you didn't care. stepping out of the cramped bathroom in nothing but tiny sleep shorts and a tank top, you found ellie relaxing on her bunk. she had stripped down to her wife pleaser and some black boxers, and was scrolling through her phone.
hearing you move towards her, she looked up at you, sitting up to grab and light the blunt hastily thrown on the table near her bunk. as you crouched down to sit next to her, you didn't notice how she looked you up and down, staring at your chest through your thin top.
were those nipples piercings?
her thoughts were interrupted as you held out your hand to take the blunt from her, taking a long drag and turning your head to blow the smoke away from where you were sitting. you took another, shorter, drag before passing it off to ellie. she took the blunt between her fingers with a shaky grip, and nearly choked on her inhale as if it was her first time smoking. she couldn't take her eyes off of you.
she shamefully stared at your soft thighs barely hidden and covered by your short shorts and your tits perfectly in her eye level as you relaxed and enjoyed the beginning of your high. you looked tired, but blissful and almost angelic. her heart ached and longed for you, tired of her desperate stage antics just for an ounce of your attention, and a second to stare into your pretty eyes.
she wanted you so bad. she wanted your body, of course, but she wanted your heart even more. her chest twinged with pain every time she heard you laugh loudly at someone else's joke, or when she pretended to be asleep as you got fucked by some random chick in your bunk after a show. your moans were just too pretty to sleep through, and she wanted to commit them to memory so she could imagine it was you under her every time she had a quick fuck on a bathroom counter.
she always left those girls satisfied, and she gained quite the reputation as a good lay among the fanbase, but it was never enough. every time she made a girl cum on her tongue, or fucked someone until they were dripping all over her strap, she just imagined it was you. not as a one-night thing, but as her girlfriend.
of course that would never happen. you didn't do relationships. you were a rockstar and you were on the road constantly, who had the time? you only wanted to get off and forget a girl's name the next morning. you would never want ellie. you would never love her, never belong to her, never moan "i love you" as she fucked her strap into you over and over-
"earth to ellie?" you looked at her concerned, your eyes wide.
"oh shit, sorry. my bad." she had drifted into her own mind, and had been holding the blunt, sitting and dreaming about you for the past few minutes, without addressing you or caring to even pass the blunt back.
"it's fine, are you okay?"
"yeah, m'good."
"okay, will you pass me the blunt then?"
ellie didn't know what came over her. maybe it was her starting to feel her high, the slight fuzziness in her brain, or maybe it was just exhaustion.
"actually, no."
"no??" you responded, looking both offended and confused.
"no, we're gonna talk instead."
"ellie we can talk and smoke-"
"no, i need you to hear me."
"okay, els, you're freaking me out." you backed away from her slightly, your eyes narrowed, confused by the change from her usual kind nature to this abruptness and rudeness.
"sorry, i don't mean to scare you, i just..." she sighed. "i'm fucking tired of this shit. i'm tired of what's going on with us. it needs to end." shock was evident across your face.
"ellie, what? are you tired of the band, a-are you tired of me?"
"no! i mean, yeah, but that's not it."
"ellie just fucking spit it out!"
"i'm in love with you!"
your eyes softened, and your mouth gaped slightly.
"i'm in love with you and i have been for a while," ellie's voice quieted, and she looked down at her lap, unable to meet your gaze. "i'm tired of pretending like i don't want something with you. all those stage antics, fooling around and flirting with you in front of our fans? i just want you to look at me. and i fuck around with the fans because i have to distract myself from you or else i'll lose my mind. and i'm fucking tired of hearing you fuck other girls out there when i know i could treat you so much better. i just want you, and i'm tired of pretending that i don't." ellie sucked in a deep breath, almost winded from her rant. she slowly looked up, to find you looking at her with tears in your eyes.
"wha-," she started before you were practically leaping into her lap. you grabbed her face in your hands, forcing her to look at you.
"els, you have no idea how long i've waited to hear that."
you crashed your lips onto hers, meeting in a messy and desperate kiss. she whined into your mouth as you licked at her bottom lip, relishing in the fact that you were finally able to kiss her. pulling away, you left her breathless.
"sooo, you feel the same way?" ellie was flushed bright red, but all you could stare at was the love in her eyes and the prominence of the small freckles all over her nose and cheeks.
"yeah, i do. i love you, els."
"fuck me..."
"planning on it," you quipped back with a giggle and a smirk on your face.
"oh no, i didn't mean- we don't have to if you don't want to. we can go out on a date first, take it slow if you-" you stopped her ramblings with a kiss.
"els, i've been wanting to do this for so long. we're gonna this right now, okay? unless you don't want to, or?"
"no no i definitely want to i just wanted to make sure you didn't feel like we were rushing this."
"not at all, baby," you said with a smile, returning your lips to hers as as the kiss quickly got heated. ellie was whining into your mouth as her hands found your hips and your hands started to travel up under her wife pleaser. you started to tease her, finding that she had gone without a bra as your fingers brushed the underside of her small tits, making her shiver. her hands traveled lower on your body, cupping your ass and massaging lightly as you both moaned quietly, full of desperation and overwhelmed from the relief of the pent-up tension between you.
"fuck, els, go ahead and lay back for me,"
ellie looked up at you with a puzzled look on her face. "what, oh no, you really don't have to, this isn't about me."
"i promise i want to, okay? now lay back and let me play with that pretty pussy."
ellie nodded reluctantly, before laying back on the bed. you slid down to the floor so you were kneeling between her spread thighs, taking in the sight before helping ellie slide her boxers down her legs.
you could've cum from the scene before you. ellie was looking up at you with pure need in her eyes, desperate to feel your mouth, your fingers, whatever you would give her. she was absolutely dripping, so worked up just from kissing you, and her pussy was so pretty. she had a gorgeous happy trail leading down to her hairy pussy, and you couldn't believe it was all just for you.
"again, you really don't have to, girls usually don't-"
"shut up and let me taste you"
you dove in, your tongue finding her clit and causing her to moan above you, her thighs closing around your head before your grabbed them and pinned them to the bed. you finally reach her needy hole, already clenching and dripping for you as you start to fuck into her. you were moaning at the sweet taste of her as she pleaded above you.
ellie feels like she's in a dream. the girl she's been miserably pining over for months actually loves her back, and now that girl is between her thighs doing magical things with her tongue. already she's overwhelmed because no one's really ever pleasured her like this before, and she still can't believe that it's you that's making her feel like this.
"gonna use my fingers now, okay?"
ellie can only let out a high pitched whine as you take you hand off of one of her thighs, and bring it to her hole as your tongue finds her clit again. you suck lightly on her throbbing clit as you plunge your fingers in, slipping in easily from all her arousal and your spit.
you look up at her, making eye contact as you find that sweet spot inside her, speeding up the pace of your fingers to hit that spongey spot over and over again. ellie was seeing stars, and she was already embarrassingly close to cumming.
"fuck...gonna......cum....fuck"
"shh, baby, just relax. cum on my face els, i know you can do it baby."
without warning, her thighs tremble uncontrollably and she gushes all over the lower half of your face. you fuck her through her orgasm, slowly pumping your fingers in and out as you lick up her juices and carefully leave feather-light kisses all over her sensitive pussy.
she sits up on her elbows, smiling down at you as you finally pull away from her, putting your soaked fingers in your mouth and sucking, tasting her once more.
"holy fuck, baby. you're gonna be the death of me," ellie teases breathlessly. "now get your ass up here so i can return the favor."
you obey, climbing up into her lap. she smirks knowingly when she feels the wet fabric of your sleep shorts touch her thigh. her hands find the hem of your tank top, meeting your eyes for permission before slowly pulling the clothing off of you. she gasps when she sees that her suspicions were correct.
adorning your pretty puffy nipples are cute heart-shaped nipple piercings. her mouth gapes wordlessly, and you start to get worried at her silence.
"do you not like them?"
"oh my god, no, baby, i love them, i'm just speechless because they're so fucking pretty."
"oh," you giggle at her astonishment. "do you wanna suck on them?"
ellie doesn't even answer you before her mouth is latching onto your left tit, bringing her hand up to circle and pinch your right nipple as her tongue starts to flick deliciously and she starts to suck lightly.
you moan and gasp at every suck and lick, the pleasure almost overwhelming on your sensitive nipples. you grab ellie's hair harshly, pulling her hair impossibly closer, and feeling yourself soak your shorts even more when ellie moans at your roughness.
you start grinding yourself on ellie's thigh, seeking pleasure and relief from the wet mess that is now between your legs. "ellie…mmmf….need your fingers baby."
only continuing to worship your tits, ellie takes her free hand and snakes it down into your pants, moaning when she feels how you've dripping down your inner thighs. she circles your clit lightly before finding your hole and sliding two fingers in. her fingers move slowly, as she wants to savor the moment and the feeling of your puffy nipples in her mouth.
she continues alternating between your tits, making them shine in the light from all her spit. you move your hips to the rhythm of ellie's fingers, fucking them deeper into you. ellie is relentless on your tits, absolutely fixated on them as well as the feeling of your dripping and clenching pussy on her fingers.
you moans start to get louder as you let our desperate pleas for your release, babbling incoherently.
"ellie, please let me cum, oh god i just wanna cum."
ellie detaches from your nipple for just a few seconds to answer you, "cum for me baby, never said you couldn't."
and so you do, feeling your release drip all over ellie's hand as she enjoys the last few moments of her mouth on your tits, sucking on them through the waves of your orgasm before finally moving away, not wanting to painfully overstimulate you.
you're both speechless, just enjoying the bliss of your orgasms that is heightened by the few hits you took earlier.
"wow," you say, your thoughts too flighty to think of a more coherent statement.
"yeah, wow." ellie agrees.
wordlessly, she kisses your forehead and moves to place you down on the bed. she grabs washcloths and clean clothes from your bunk, cleaning you and herself up, wiping away all the sweat and cum. she helps you into your new clothes, and she dresses herself in comfortable sweats before moving to lay down next to you.
your mind is now clear of the fog from your orgasm, but the exhaustion has finally hit you, and you feel yourself drifting off as ellie pulls you into her muscular arms.
"love you els"
"love you more than you'll ever know, baby"
1 YEAR LATER
...
"thank you so much madison square garden, you've been amazing! have a great night, we love you new york!!" you call out in the roaring crowd, signaling the end of your show as you make your way off stage, ellie and dina in tow.
you enter the green room, in disbelief and still riding the high of the show as you're met with the sight of your opening acts relaxing and enjoying the refreshments and peace of backstage.
"holy fuck babe, i can't believe we just played the garden!!" ellie comes up behind you, scooping you up in her arms and kissing you passionately.
"i know els!! i'm so proud of us!!"
"get a room you two," dina grumbles, making you roll your eyes playfully.
"babe? that's a surprise," a voice calls from the other side of the room. your head whips around to find it belongs to the lead singer of the first opening act for your show.
"excuse me?" you ask, your tone clearly full of annoyance and surprise.
"well, sorry, just never thought that either of you sluts would commit to a chick," he comments, smiling devilishly at your surprised look.
"what the actual fuck is your problem dude?" ellie shouts, before you can even think of a response.
"in my book, once a slut, always a slut," he taunts, causing a small chorus of laughter among his bandmates.
you and ellie move in sync towards the man, but a flash of dark brown hair is faster. dina steps in front of the man, winds up, and punches him clean in the nose, causing him to stumble backwards and fall as he trips over his own feet.
you and ellie stare in shock at dina's actions.
"i'd suggest you get the fuck out of here," dina says, seething. the band members quickly scramble to the feet before practically sprinting out of the room. "oh, and you're never opening for us again, you sick fucks!"
dina smiles as they exit the room, before turning to you and ellie as you're both still frozen in shock.
"what? no one messes with my favorite couple."
<3 <3 <3
hope y'all liked this!! i honestly love the rockstar au and i'm totally willing to do more fics and drabbles with these characters!! send me some asks if y'all want more :)
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Lesson Not Learnt
Loki Laufeyson x f!reader
Warnings: Loki he's a warning. SMUT SMUT SMUT LIKE FILTHY SMUT. Swearing, a lot of sex, like a lot lot, um...oral (m and f receiving), praise a LOT of degradation (dont look at me like that) umm. Literally just. Smut okay disgusting filthy stuff
A/N: So this took well over a month to finish (wayyy more) and I don't know if I like it because its umm definitely a lot? TO BE FAIR I took like weeks worth of sexual frustration and dumped it all out here so :/ It in fact did go off script and I just..went a little crazy ngl. it's definitely a lot. But :D umm oh!! I'm gonna tag whoever seemed interested in the snippet I posted like a million years ago but PLEASE DONT FEEL PRESSURED TO READ <3
-Clem
Synopsis: Despite how many times Loki told you to behave yourself before this party, you couldn't help causing a little bit of trouble. (or, alternatively, friendly flirting with Matt causes Loki to flip out and fuck you to heaven and back)
Word count: 3.9k (omfg...)
MINORS DNI BEYOND THIS POINT
Tied to the bed, legs spread wide open.
Hours of merciless torture.
Or hours of endless pleasure and pain.
Your mind spiralled with image after image, each worse than the last. You could barely focus on the task at hand, the actual setting up to the big finale.
You knew it was wrong.
You knew how risky it was to tick him off. You knew it would only be your downfall.
But Loki always made that punishment too sweet for you to stay away from.
You stood at the bar, fingers tapping on your thigh. It was one of those big Avengers nights, tonight you were all treated to Tony’s nice collection of drinks, and a loud party.
You had every intention of behaving for the night. You could still hear Loki’s whisper as his hands moved up your thighs and under your skirt, be good tonight, and maybe you’ll get a reward hm?
Your legs squeezed together at the memory. But you knew he knew that as soon as you walked downstairs you’d do everything not to behave like he asked.
So there you were, shamelessly flirting with one of Natasha’s old friends- Matt.
He was attractive, no one could deny that, and he went along with you perfectly, every move well placed. They did always say he was too aware of his surroundings.
He took a sip of his drink, smirking slightly. “I think everyone in this party can feel the jealousy oozing off of him,”
You shrugged. “Good. Means we’re doing it right, aren’t we?”
“Hm. You know I came here with every intention not to die tonight,”
You chuckled. “You won’t, he wouldn’t do that,”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
You paused. “....Well.”
“Mhm, I pro-”
“Murdock.” Loki’s cold voice sliced right through the conversation. He looked collected, but you swore you saw a storm growing in those gorgeous eyes. You felt him move behind you, his body caging around your smaller frame, arm rested and leaning against the bar.
You kept your eyes trained on your hands in your lap.
“I believe this is my girlfriend you’re talking to, no?”
“Laufeyson,” Matt took another drink. “What can I say, the conversation was interesting,”
“And here I thought you were a respectable man,” Loki tsked. “But I must say, it did look very interesting.” He leaned down, lips grazing your ear. “Were you keeping Mr. Murdock quite entertained, pet?”
Your breath caught in your throat. “I-..um.”
Matt hummed quietly, a laugh clearly starting to build up inside of him. “I think I’ll..be going now. Enjoy the rest of your night folks,” There was definitely something in his tone there. You threw a sharp glare at him as he walked away.
It’s silent between you and Loki for a second, before he grabs you by the arm tightly, pulling you out of your seat. “Let’s go.” He said firmly.
You frowned as he started walking, and with how tall and quick he was, you felt like you were going to trip and face-plant. “Slow down. Go where?”
“We’re going before you get yourself into any more trouble,” He gritted out as you walked down the hallway.
You were heading to his room!!
“Trouble?” You scoffed. “I wasn’t even in trouble,”
Instantly, he pushed you against the wall, his hands planted on either side of your head, his body so close, his face was merely inches from yours, and the fury in his eyes sent shivers down your spine. “Oh? Is that so, pet?” He spat. “You think you aren’t in trouble? Not even after flirting so shamelessly with Murdock? Like a whore?”
You inhaled sharply, feeling your thin panties start to soak from his words. “It…it was friendly flirting. I was just making conversation,”
“Don’t lie to me, darling. I know what friendly flirting looks like, and it was not that. You were getting nice and close, hm? Did you want him to know how much of a slut you are? Or were you just wanting to rile me up, hoping I’d swoop in to take you away and fuck you until you can’t even think anymore?”
You felt a blush creep up your body, his words shouldn’t be affecting you this much, but the way his voice dripped with anger and hints of lust, the way his grip tightened on your arm you were sure it might bruise. You felt pathetic, being so turned on by his words, it was marvellous how he’s studied you and memorised you so well he knows just what to say to get you in the right trap.
“No I-” Before you could finish your sentence, he finally takes you to his room, practically throwing you at the bed and slamming the door shut. He points to a chair in the room. “Sit.”
You sat up, the covers on the bed wrinkling under your touch. “What?”
“Sit. Now. Are you too dumb to understand such simple commands? Will I need to repeat them as if I were talking to a dog?”
You quickly scrambled up, rushing and taking a seat in the chair without further arguments. This was a new side you’d never seen of him. You could feel your heartbeat pick up as Loki watched you with darkened eyes. Your nerves felt like they were vibrating inside of you, you couldn’t sit still even if you tried, the excitement was too much.
He sighed then, and started carefully unbuttoning his shirt. You sat up straighter, leaning in. He stops midway, before discarding his suit jacket and taking a seat on the bed, scooting to the back and dramatically laying on his back. You frowned, not sure where this was going until he slipped a hand into his pants. You let out a quiet gasp, leaning in forward to get a better look. You could see the outlines of him slowly stroking himself, and you could feel arousal pooling between your thighs. You watched in full attention, your body getting up on its own, eager to go over and please him yourself.
“Stay in the chair.” Loki spoke, his voice laced in pleasure. He shot you a glare, before adding, “And no touching yourself,”
You felt something tighten in your lower stomach as you sat back down. “What? That’s not fair!”
“Oh I think it’s very fair, darling. Especially after what you pulled downstairs,”
“That’s different!” You grumbled, yet still moved back to the chair.
“Mm…I don’t think it is,” He mumbled before getting lost in the moment, his hand moving faster under his pants as he leaned his head back and groaned.
You felt like bursting into flames. He sounded so pretty and it was unfair that you weren’t pulling those noises from him yourself.
“Loki,” You started, digging your nails into your thigh. “Please take off your pants Loki- I wanna see,”
He groaned louder, his free hand gripping the sheets tightly. “I don’t know if you’ve been good enough for that,”
You made a noise of protest. “Loki! Please, I asked nicely, didn't I?! I’m doing everything you’re asking!”
He sighed, pulling his hand reluctantly out of his pants and quickly discarding his clothes before laying back down elegantly, naked and glorious. His hard cock stood to wide attention, the tip red and angry and so desperate for attention- attention you craved to give it.
“Better, pet?”
You nodded, eyes fixed on him. “Yeah…” You breathed out.
You could see his lips curve into a smirk before his hand wrapped around his cock again, slowly gliding along it and pumping. He let out a shuddery breath, his eyes fluttering shut. You watched intently, your eyes never leaving his body for a second as you took in every detail, from the soft lines of his body to the small buck of his hips as he neared his climax.
You squirmed in your seat, trying to keep your pathetic whimpers at bay. He just looked so goddamn gorgeous, the way he looked blissful and caught in the moment. You couldn’t stop the question tumbling from your mouth, “Are you thinking of me when you’re touching yourself like that?”
He let out a near feral sound. “Fuck- yes. Always, you’re all I see. Every time, I just wish it was you on your knees, taking all of me in your mouth like a good slut. My good little slut.”
Fuuuck.
You shifted in your place, squeezing your thighs tightly together. You were absolutely positive the panties you wore right now were going to be thrown in the garbage by the end of the night.
You whined. “Then let me help you! I’ll be a good slut, right? Please. I’ll be really good!”
He chuckled, pausing to move to the edge of the bed and sit. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes shadowed with lust. “Mm, I bet you would, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes!” You got up quickly, eager to get closer to him. “I would be really-”
He didn’t let you finish your sentence, because midway through he snapped his fingers and cast an illusion- an illusion of you. It sat on its knees right between his thighs, and wasted no time to lean in and take Loki in its mouth with an obscene amount of noise. Loki groaned loudly, throwing his head back in pleasure.
You felt your mind just…shut down. You stood there in shock as you watched the scene unfold right before you. You stared, you couldn’t help it. It intrigued you, in a sense. Did he do this often? Whatever it was, the illusion was definitely professional with the way Loki was moaning. “Oh fuck-”
You inched back slowly, sitting back down before your knees gave out. Everything ached. You ached to touch him, to feel him, to please him- you ached for his entire being to be pressed so close to you that you shared the same breath.
He pulled the illusion’s hair, wasting no time to start fucking her throat harshly. It was cruel, what he was doing. He knew just how desperate you get to please him and he enjoyed watching you squirm too much. He lasts a few minutes before his hips halt as he hits his climax, floating in bliss. He looked angelic, to say the least, his face flushed as he let out a sigh of content. The illusion melted away instantly, and Loki shifted back properly onto the bed, a look of fake pity on his face. “Tsk, poor pet. Are you feeling lonely?”
You nodded, trying to find a comfortable position to sit in.
He tsked again. “Come here then,”
You immediately shot to your feet, rushing over to his side without hesitation.
“Sit, darling.” Not a request, not a question, simply a demand. An order, one you were more than happy to obey. You quickly took off your dress, slipped out of your soaked panties and bra. You got onto the bed, carefully hovering over him.
“Go ahead, darling,” He grabbed your waist tightly, letting you lower yourself onto him at your own pace. He knows you have limits, but the way you were dripping wet, it didn’t take long before he was flush inside of you. He ran a hand up along your thigh, humming as he watched you with a lustful gaze. “Such a good girl, hm? Think you deserve some fun now?”
You nodded, feeling the burn of the stretch fade into pleasure. He squeezed your hips gently, slowly helping you find a good starting pace. You should’ve been a little suspicious for letting you out of trouble so easily, but you couldn’t find the energy to care right now, you just needed more. You tried picking up your own pace, to ride him faster but naturally, Loki wasn’t done with you. He held you tightly in place, a pathetic look of sympathy on his face. “Oh no, I don’t think so,”
“What?!” You punched his chest lightly. “Loki please-”
“No, darling. You don’t get to go around flirting with other people and expect me to be nice to you after. You should’ve known better,”
“Lokiii,” You whined. “It was a joke! You know I didn’t mean it!”
“But do I?” He thrust his hips up lazily. “A joke, hm? You wanted me to get upset?”
You shook your head, trying to move your hips but his grip on you wasn’t letting up.
“No, I don't believe that. I think you wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted me to get all angry so I could fuck you senseless? To play with you like the dumb toy you are?” He groaned, feeling you clench around him at his words. He couldn’t keep this self control act up. “Fuck- why don’t you show me how sorry you are, hm? You wanted to be a useless whore, show me how good you are then.” He loosened his grip on your hips, giving you the freedom to ride him. You quickly take control of the freedom, eager to feel the slow climb of pleasure, but all there was were few sparks that light and blow out almost immediately. You could feel frustration start to bubble up inside of you as Loki lazily thrust up into you every now and then. He was making no effort to help, and you felt ready to crawl out of your own skin.
“Loki,” You groaned. “It’s not working,”
“So?” He looked infuriating, smirking up at you with blown out eyes and a light flush on his cheeks. What. An. Ass.
“I need help! Please-”
“Oh no,” he chuckled. “You can keep going,”
You whined. “Loki! It’ll take ages, I’ll give up right now,”
The sound he made was damn near a growl as his hands tightened on your hips. “You are in no position to make threats, pet. You misbehaved, now you deal with the consequences. Argue again and it’ll be much worse,”
You grumbled, but the threat sent a shiver through you. “Sir please,”
His grip suddenly turned bruising, his eyes wide in an almost feral need. “Oh? You’re using sir now, are you?”
You nodded quickly, trying to build up to your high again. “Y-yeah...thought you liked it?”
“You’re right,” He started as one of his hands drifted lower, flicking a teasing finger over your clit. You were so desperate the slight action alone ripped a moan out of you. “I do. But I also know you’re only saying it to look like a good girl,”
You choked out a cry, needing another touch so badly you’d start crying for it. Not that he’d have anything against the idea of you in tears for him…
“I’m not! Loki p-please please I need you so bad please sir-” You blabbered.
He can’t resist you, he’s never been able to, so you supposed it was why he gave in so quickly. He snapped his hips up to meet yours, sending a shockwave of pleasure rippling through you.
You moaned, digging your nails into his chest. “Th-thank you sir,” You managed to choke out. He makes a sound of disapproval as he holds you down in place, fucking into you at an unforgiving pace.
You moaned loudly, feeling the knot of pleasure intensify in your stomach as he hit deeper and deeper. He took one hand off your waist, reaching in between your bodies and pressing down harshly on your clit. It didn’t take long for the pleasure to wash over you in mind blowing waves.
“Loki! F-fuck Loki-” You moaned louder, breathing heavily as he pushed you through your high and pushed through his. You were sure that the people through the halls could hear from how loud Loki was, but he sounded so pretty, muttering sweet nothings to you, you couldn’t be bothered to care.
He flipped you over, pinning your hands above your head with one hand as the other gripped your waist, his hips relentless as they smacked into you over and over again.
You withered under him, tears welling up in your eyes from the intensity. You leaned up a little, pressing your lips tightly to his to drown out your cries. He eagerly kisses you back, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He pulled away after a bit to catch his breath, his lips with a light bruise on them. “You’re doing so well, princess. Such a good little whore,” He said before kissing you again, letting go of your wrists to wrap his hand around your throat.
This was definitely your fucktoy moment.
He was just using as he pleased, taking and taking until he was satisfied.
He picked you up and flipped you around, forcing you on your hands and knees. He’s still got one hand around your neck as the other one palms your ass as he continued to fuck you roughly. You had lost track of everything. Everything but the feel of his skin touching yours, his heavy ragged breathing, and how wonderful it felt to have him buried so deeply inside of you. All you could think of was how the pleasure was blending with a pain that was absolutely delicious.
You could tell he was close from the way his thrusts started getting a little sloppy, and his breathing ragged as his hands roamed across your body, trailing messy kisses down your back. You moaned loudly, pressing yourself back against him as you felt the pit of your stomach tighten, the waves of pleasure crashing through you. Your arms wobble, threatening to give out from your exhaustion.
He groaned as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, keeping you in place as he reached his own release, his hips stilling as he came with a shuddered gasp. He breathed heavily, pulling you from your hips to sit up and press your back against him. Your bodies were slick in sweat, chests heaving. You could feel your mind slowly grow hazy from the pleasure- it always happened with Loki. He knew how to work your body better than you could’ve ever thought possible, and only after a few rounds you felt your mind slip into the cloudy haze of pleasure and float in clouds of joy as he kept having his way.
You had thought today might be different, perhaps he’d deny you that calming bliss- but it seemed just the excitement from his show earlier and this was enough to send you flying.
He pressed wet kisses on your shoulder, his lips trailing up your neck as he sucked and bit lightly, leaving small love marks littered across your shoulders.
“Loki-...” Your breath hitched when his lips kissed over your pulse. His tongue dragged over the skin loosely before he started sucking on the spot. You knew there’d be a dark bruise there in the morning.
“Loki…” You started again but your words dissolved into a mumble of confusion and frankly, a bit of hurt when he lifted you off of him. You felt empty without him in you, and it was a feeling you did not enjoy. He laid you gently on the bed, leaving your legs spread open for him as he hovered over you.
“Shhh,” He pressed a kiss to your jaw, another under your ear, one on your cheek, another messy and quick at the corner of your mouth. His messy hair tickled your face, but all of that was lost when you felt his finger slowly rubbing your clit. You gasped, your head falling back on his shoulder.
“Loki-”
“Shhh, pet. I know you can give me another. You can, can’t you? Such a good girl, you’ll let me pull one more out of you, yes?” His skilled finger pressed on your bundle of nerves, sending an electric shock of pleasure coursing through your body. You moaned, torn between moving away from him or begging him for more.
You felt like you were going to explode- he was both too close and too far. You wanted more, but your body wanted to shy away from his touch, the sensitivity making your whole body tremble.
He lowered his face, kissing down your body as his fingers continued their work. His lips left soft kisses on your quivering thighs before starting to suck on your clit. A cry fell from your lips and your hands flew to fist his hair, tugging at it as the feel of his fingers and tongue became overwhelming. You couldn’t think of anything but the growing feeling of pleasure pooling at the pit of your stomach, and the god before you as he wasted no efforts to continue devouring you, the sinful squelching sounds making your brain go haywire. Your eyes pricked with tears, your pussy feeling too sensitive from his relentless attacks.
It’s pathetic how quickly you came again, and as he slowly worked you through your high, you knew for a fact you would not be able to do anything tomorrow but stay in bed and sleep.
You felt completely and utterly wasted and used and you felt a bit of relief trickle in when Loki finally pulled away from your aching cunt, a satisfied smile on his lips.
He leaned in and kissed you, and you could taste yourself on his lips. You were both breathless when he pulled away, and if you had the energy you’d reach up and run a hand through his hair, working on detangling every strand. You hummed happily, feeling your mind drifting dangerously close to the edges of sleep.
“Mm,” Loki kissed you again. “My precious girl. You did so good darling, let’s get you cleaned up, shall we? C’mon, up you go,”
You chuckled lightly, feeling your eyelids get heavy. “Loki-..I literally can’t even move my finger,”
He laughed, and you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Did I tire you out too much?”
“Yes,” You mumbled. “I’m not getting up,”
“Very well,” You felt the bed shift, and suddenly it felt cold without him near.
“Loki come back,” You got no answer. You yawned, your eyes drifting open and close with every passing second.
When he did finally come back, you were but a step away from blissful rest. You heard him chuckle, and you frowned deeply but refused to open your eyes.
“That tired, hm? Well, at least you learnt your lesson,” He got back in bed, carefully cleaning you up the best he could. With a snap of his fingers, the dirty bedsheets were replaced with fresh, warm new ones, and you almost wept in joy as your body melted completely into the mattress. You rolled yourself up in the blanket, burying your face in the pillow.
“Lesson not learnt,” You yawned loudly. “Good night,”
He laughed again, and what a blessed thing that it was the last sound you heard as you fell asleep, feeling his arms wrap around you and pull you into him.
Despite how upset he might have been at your little joke, or how exhausted you felt, you both knew it wouldn’t be the last time you played dirty for his attention.
#loki laufeyson#loki x reader#loki smut#loki laufeyson smut#marvel#mcu#loki#loki laufeyson x f!reader#loki x f!reader
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I came here to ask for Rockstar! Cove rambles and saw the Rockstar! Baxter art you reblogged omfg it's so good.
Please can we get some of your Rockstar! Cove (and/or Baxter if you feel like it) rambles 🙏
(Hope your holiday has been great 💖)
this is more. rockstar!cove backstory but YKW ITS FINE BC ITS BEEN WHATS ON MY MIND LATELY
we'll have to talk abt him again bc this post was getting LONG especially w baxterrr
tags : SFW, headcanons, step 2-4, rockstar au, so ooc, bullying mentioned, fighting, baxter's tags are below before his hc's
listen....
im ngl. i want him to be maybe a little toxic. a lil crazy.
or into things he's not canonically into/does often
at least he's rough n impulsive at first
whenever he can get away with it, and before he got famous, he loves taking a long ride on his motorcycle
compared to when he was a young teen, he tries not to take drives when he's angry
bc when he was young, he'd put on some music and blast it as loud as it could go, and he'd drive and drive and drive...
ended up with a few warnings and speeding tickets that way because he'd get lost in riding n his thoughts n the music
but now that his life isn't so turbulent, he doesn't do that anymore
i wanna imagine he doesn't grow up with you next door n you didn't know each other until junior year of high school
he sees you n he's sold...
thinks you're so fucking beautiful/handsome and he sees you laughing n smiling w your friends n he's so, so whipped for you
he's still a sweet shy boy, so it takes forever for him to talk to you
n it's terry who introduced you two!!!
he's all flustered, bc you're even more lovely up close
n if you're all bubbly n extroverted, he thinks you're like sunshine
if you're more reserved, he thinks you're very cool or that it's amazing how calm you are all the time
if you're shy/easily flustered, will sometimes (and now that he's grown, always) mention out loud he thinks it's cute when you blush...
either way, just loves your personality n thinks you're amazing n cute
you actually calm him down. you ground him.
he used to get into fights kinda often.
i like to think rockstar!cove got like this bc his parents stayed together longer than they did, n there was no brilliant neighbor to reach out to him
he n his dad were still like oil n water, and the kids at school were less than friendly but usually didn't dare fuck with him
key word is usually.
just had a thought actually... cliff's family living nearby
not his parents. he moved as far as he could
and with him n Kyra on the brink of divorce, her moving out the house, n all cliff has to do to keep them afloat..
he didn't think his equally shitty cousins would be a problem.
but surprise!! they're a few doors down n too happy to "catch up"
cove n cliff avoid them pretty well, n cliff really didn't need to tell cove to avoid his cousins bc he was already 2 steps ahead of him
but his cousins dont get that message, they also think its a good idea to pick on cove...
so between the short patience of most hormonal 13 year olds, his parents (finally) separating, cove's intolerance for bullshit....
cove ends up rocking his 2 cousins shit when they snatch his glasses off his face, bending the frame
ignores his cousins mom yelling at him n cliff to apologize for hurting her kids. feels a bit warm when his dad tells her his son is more well mannered than both her kiss combined, even laughs when he says a rabid raccon has more sense n poise
but is even happier when his dad, after a moment of silence in the car, asks him if be used the right hook he taught him
n tries to hide his smile when his dad ruffles his hair n goes "that's good. good job son."
he does hear the whole, "violence isn't always the answer" and "pick your battles" thing
but he shrugs off the lecture when he and cliff have a tub of ice cream each n cliff holds a bag of peas to his face
anyway.
he fights like a DOG. he arGRHHH HE HAS EVERYTHIGN TAKEN CARE OF. TRUST.
professional at sneaking out n sneaking YOU out
cove at 4am: wanna get mcd's?
dont even bother saying no bc he's already outside
dont pretend to be sleep either bc he FUCKING SEES YOU.
will leave you alone if you genuinely don't wanna fuck around in the middle of the night, but how can you say no to him?
ah. before i forget
Will kiss you if you're bandaging his face
asks you to ice his bruises...
SINGS YOU SONGS N SHIT
kryptonite. creep. p!nk and lady gaga PERIOD. all of it
serenades you with his guitar and/or voice
sometimes he's just fiddling with the strings, switching between cheery beats and trying to rick roll you but the beat is wayyy off
loves when you fall asleep to his music too, plays the sleepiest tune he can think of
you being his biggest supporter is what makes him fight to make a name in the music industry
after supporting him in his personal life, through all his lows and highs, then supporting his music that he was too scared to go for
he puts his best foot forward for his sake and yours
+ TAGS: mention of FWB, toxic baxter <3, so ooc ofc, mm implied partying/drinking
now rockstar baxter....
i want him to be a problem. he's the toxic one here
compared to cove, who is soft n sweet but impulsive and always willing to fight, rough but well meaning...
baxter is your situationship
your friends with benefits
friends if a loose word, since you hardly ever talk since you've met and unless arguing, bickering, or sexting counts as getting to know each other...
than you're best friends!!!
he's the big headed musician who always asks "wyd" and "u up?" whenever he's in town
at least he sends you money to doll up or eat, or whatever before he gets in town
"make sure you eat before i come. bc im not letting you go once i get there"
so.... if you want commitment. he's not it...
just saw *this tweet, and rockstar!baxter IS the type to email you after you block him
omfg. if any of yall have read armin x reader fanfics... yk how he is in those fics? all toxic n shit?
thats baxter.
not THAT bad. like baby trapping bad or cheating on you, manipulating you etc.
but he's bad
definitely the dumb choice you make at 18-20 smth years old n once you mature, you drop him because he doesn't grow up quickly...
he won't even have the realization that you're the one until he's MINIMUM 37-40+ YEARS OLD. AND FLYS UP FROM THE BED LIKE HE'S SEEN A GHOST
curses n curses himself to high hell and low heaven
now depending on how bad he's fucked you over, or you've moved on, etc... he understands if you don't wanna try being together, bc he was a fucking mess
at least, if he sees you catching feelings or himself, he does break it off
but there's still good times between you!!
he sends you things for your birthday
and when he's not on tour showing his ass, he comes to spend it with you
is very happy if you come to spend his birthday with him!!!
starts to look forward to it, but he doesn't really show it
although after the first time, he can't help crying, thought the first time was just a one off thing
unless you make the first one a big thing, than he cries then
even if all you did was get/make a cake and decorate your small apartment, he's so so happy
mm i started thinking abt smth
i don't think he's that bad, impulsive, etc. before his career
before, he's pursuing music because his parents hate it. its "not a useful career" and "embarrassing"
but then he starts to love it, its an outlet for him and then it's become a passion
but once he gets a deal with a record label, it's just a downward spiral
puts everything into music, ignores everything else and doesn't take breaks like he should
i think what breaks your "relationship" is him getting caught up in the darker side of the music industry, and losing himself.
he doesn't laugh or anything like before
doesn't make random trips to see you anymore
in fact, probably ends up flaking on you or suddenly canceling, or going weeks without talking to you
its rough. and you two definitely need time apart for him to grow and realize that this is serving anyone besides the companies pockets well
#our life: beginnings & always#olba#cove holden#cove holden x reader#baxter ward#baxter our life#baxter ward x reader
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Lockwood falling in love with the type three ghost of a girl.
That's it.
That's the ask.
The Haunted Boy and His Ghostly Girlfriend
Prologue
(pt. 1) (pt. 2)
Anthony Lockwood x fem reader
Warnings/Tags: Reader is in this for like 2 paragraphs, Romcom 😭, Ik you gave me angst but everything I touch turns romcom I’m so sorry, George gets mad at Lockwood for a bit, Old people clients, mentions of death, Reader is literally a fucking ghost 😭, please tell me if there’s anything I forgot to tag
Notes: I absolutely adored this request omfg. When I saw it, I just KNEW I had to write it omg. This is— this needs to be multipart I’m so sorry. I can’t get it out of my head that he’ll have a little ghostly girlfriend PLEASE ITS SO CUTE IN MY HEAD. Also; very badly edited!! I was exhausted when I first posted this and am still currently combing through it for errors.
Summary: It starts, as all things do here: with a meetcute, the undead, and maybe a bit of tomfoolery. It goes, as it almost never does, with meeting the undead love of his life. What a big day for Anthony Lockwood.
Word Count: 1.5k+
Lockwood is staring into the eyes of the most breathtaking girl he has ever seen, and she isn’t even alive anymore. The girl looks as she probably did when she was alive; a beautiful face with only the most kissable lips he has ever seen in his life, not that he ever could kiss her. He should be calling for Lucy and George— yelling for them to tell them he’s found their ghost, but instead…
“Hi,” He says, clearing his throat, “I’m Anthony. Anthony Lockwood of Lockwood and co. You’re a ghost.”
He winces when your frown deepens, and feels bad immediately for blurting that out. Before he can apologize, he sees you mouthing something and realizes quite late that he does in fact need Lucy and George here to be able to talk to you.
“I can’t really hear you, sorry. I have… my friend can though. Just a second—“
Before we can go forward, we have to go back a little to just before this began. So let’s start with a fact: even with Skull being able to talk with Lucy, Lockwood still had his reservations on type threes. Type ones and type twos were the predictable result of certain situations— murders, death by illness, accidents, and all the “good” things that made the visitors more likely to visit. Type threes? It took the literal manifestation of the actual thing for him to even accept they existed. Suffice to say, Lockwood didn’t think he could ever fully warm up to the idea of a ghost he couldn’t understand.
Then one day, a case comes to him with a rather peculiar situation. The living don’t often find themselves attached to the undead, especially ones with no relation to them. The Thistlebrows prove to be an exception. The case? Their family ghost is lonely now that their granddaughter’s been sent away.
Lucy and George have stepped out for supplies when the old Thistlebrow couple stops by, so he takes them to the sitting room and prepares them tea. From the first word that comes out of them, Lockwood thinks he’s having some sort of hallucinogenic episode.
That’s more of an exaggeration actually as it seemed reasonably normal at first; strong presence, solid apparition visible enough that even in their old age they could see wisps of it lurking. Nothing more than a stubborn spectre, he was sure. Then—
“It’s an old house,” Mrs. Thistlebrow croons, sipping her cup of tea. “We’ve only lived in it for a few years, and we doubt we’ll be able to keep her company for much longer.”
“I’m sorry?” Lockwood asks, genuinely confused. He was sure he must have misheard them, before Mr. Thistlebrow spoke.
“We don’t know where she is, really, nor have we ever fully seen her… but our granddaughter is taken with her. We thought at first she just had an imaginary friend, but then…” He pulls out a polaroid.
There was nothing in the photo worth noting— a pair of shoes on the windowsill of an open window. The flash of the camera didn’t illuminate past the frame, but that was expected for a photo taken so late. He keeps a patient smile on his face, but he nods slowly with his brow furrowed in worry.
“The window was locked when we left the room. It’s too tall for our granddaughter to reach, and nothing was moved before or after this picture was taken— at least not by the living. Our granddaughter had asked her to open it to prove to us she was real, and the ghost left her shoes on the windowsill to hammer it in.” He leaves the photo in front of Lockwood, pulling back into the seat.
Lockwood’s brow scrunches in confusion as the gears turn in his head. Many type twos form apparitions, but poltergeists do not. Incidentally, only poltergeists can interact with heavy objects and the window certainly wouldn’t have been light. It looked to be a thick pane of glass with a metal on wood frame, pushed open farther than a stray breeze could push it.
“How old is your granddaughter?” He asks, his own voice distant to him. The photo makes something in him itch to solve the case.
“Just turned 7,” Mrs. Thistlebrow says with a click of her tongue, bringing a hand up to her wrinkly cheek. “Her parents sent off abroad when they realised she had Talent; didn’t want her having anything to do with the Problem. Heart broken, she was. The ghost was her first best friend.”
The Thistlebrows look genuinely devastated at that, and Lockwood bites back an incredulous frown. Oh the story he has for Lucy and George when they come back, absolutely mental it all is.
“We know this might be a lot to ask, but we’ll pay you as much as you need to keep the ghost company. Our granddaughter was so devastated knowing the poor girl would be lonely without her, and we certainly couldn’t talk to her no matter how much we tried.” Mr. Thistlebrow picks an envelope from his suit pocket, and slides it across the table to Lockwood. It’s a thick thing with obviously quite a bit of cash, and a cheque is peeking out from where the lip has opened.
Now, he could absolutely refuse the case. The agency was stable and the cases they have lined up were far less troublesome than finding and keeping another possible type-three ghost; George would even call him stupid for not refusing it right away, but…
“We’ll do it. You both have nothing to worry about,” He says instead, reassuring as he can be as he pulls on the lapels of his jacket. Mr. and Mrs. Thistlebrow’s faces split into smiles, and Lockwood can’t find it in him to regret his decision.
“—And you took the case?” George says, all but yelling as he leans over the table to stare wide-eyed at Lockwood. Lucy’s frozen in her seat, her pen still on the thinking cloth.
“I authenticated the money, and they offered to meet us at the house as soon as we can if there were any more issues with compensation.” He takes a spoonful of supper, and hums in delight. “You’ve really outdone yourself today, George.”
“That’s not the problem, Lockwood,” George hisses, always so dour. He doesn’t settle down into his seat, even going so far as to cross his arms in disapproval. Still, he mumbles out a quiet ‘thank you’.
“Did they say anything else?” Lucy finally speaks up, her eyes still on the thinking cloth. It’s good she’s at least started doodling again, so Lockwood manages to look back up at both of them (which is very hard when George is glaring at him so severely).
“Their granddaughter’s name is Pepper, thought it might help us if we pretended to be her friends at least. It…” He pauses, tapping his spoon against his supper as he thinks of the right way to say it, “As far as they know, it isn’t aggressive and seems cooperative. They even— actually, wait.”
He pulls out the polaroid from his inner pocket, looking it over (even though he knows nothing would have changed) before sliding it to the center of the table. Lucy and George both lean in to have a look, coming back to stare at him in confusion.
“It was able to unlock and push the window open, then left the girl’s shoes on the windowsill to further prove it existed. Not only that, but both the Thistlebrows have said it is a rather heavy window too high up for their granddaughter to reach.” He takes another bite of his dinner, watching their expressions morph.
“But they said it had an apparition?” George asks first, seeming on the edge of worried and heavily intrigued. “Spectres can’t interact with heavy objects, but poltergeists can’t have apparitions. This ghost can’t exist unless it really was…”
Lucy is deep in deliberation as her eyes flit to somewhere out of the kitchen; the skull, Lockwood realizes quickly. “If this is a type three… and it was cooperative…”
A pregnant pause fills the room, only the ticking of a faraway clock echoing about the walls. George settles into his seat with a sigh, finally picking up his utensils. Lucy, rests her hands in her lap. They all look up and at each other, waiting for a beat, before falling into a quiet supper. They were definitely going to have to see this through now.
So here Lockwood finds himself in front of the house that starts and ends it all; that houses what might just be the strangest thing to happen in his haunted life. He meets you in a flurry of strange things— through a polaroid of an open window, a ghost goose case, and then meeting the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen— before he finds himself asking:
“Would you like to come home with us?”
You nod quickly in surprise, your eyes shining in mirth and other-light. He doesn’t even need Lucy to translate that as anything but a firm ‘yes’.
A/N: Everything I touch… turns to romcoms… I am like King Midas of romcoms PLEASE.
Also! Starting a silly taglist, just somehow reach out if you’d like to be added!!
Taglist 🏷️
@tangledinlove
#portie writes fanfic#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood x you#lockwood x reader#lockwood x you
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HELLO IT IS I AGAIN (Razor's mom /real)
So you know those imposters aus where characters chase the reader for being an 'impersonator'?
What if... It's a continuation from my ask (where we meet Razor first before everyone), and Razor is just confused at the patrolling knights near Wolvendom constantly asking him if he have saw 'the impostor'
Tbh he just shakes his head. Who tf is the impostor????? Wtf is an impostor???????
Many question marks later..
He had encountered an epiphany (not really it's just the Springvale ppl talking about someone copying the creator's looks).
The 'Impostor' they have been searching is you.
But you're not an impostor! Razor knows it! Andrius knows it! And with how the nature and the monster responded to you, Teyvat knows it too!
So like the good son he is, he sheltered you even more severely.
Ur not allowed to go out of his sights at this point (he'll still take you to places with many lampgrasses if you still wanna make a crown w it)
And my imagination ends there, do you think there's something else he'd do?
Ty for answering my last request btw, ur the best and I hope you get your favorite characters w one 10 pull and your desired artifacts w the best stats <3
Much love and sweets
-Razor's mom
RAZOR'S MOM!! HELLO aw im so glad u liked it :)
Srry about the late reply! 💜💜💜
Ok, so I think this is a good time to point to my shiny
Writing Requests/About Me Post I have pinned on my 👉 blog!!👈💅 taaa daaaa :) i did it guys here ya go
Yall have been GREAT so far abt keeping the requests chill and fun, and i dont have that many "Donts" that arent obvious (homophobia, transphobia, ableism,etc)
♡
Dont worry Razor Mom, i just wanted to use this as a way to talk about this!! /nm /gen
♡
About Imposter AU, there are plenty of other blogs/posts that write for that or posts under SAGAU tag! :)
I said wayyy earlier on in some of my first asks, but basically I really want to lighten up the Genshin SAGAU / Isekai tag and branch out from all these darker Imposter AUs :)
And also add more world-building posts or AUs <3
(language brainrot for example)!!
◇
TL;DR: I am not accepting hunting down/yandere/cult au/imposter au Genshin Sagau, only a funny or chill version of it.
Please check my writing rules post :)
Example: u look like Creator, but everybody's like, "oh lucky them wow rlly blessed, have a free drink, etc.
OR omfg where r they?? They descended to Teyvat oh fuck we lost our god-"
♡
Heres the Razor post !!!
If u wanna check it out :]
Cracks knuckles, Saddle up Baby, bc its time for my version of the Imposter AU 🤭😋😈
(and sorry for answering super late/possible scare Razor mom anon!! :'/ )
♡
So it begins rlly small right?
Like, Razor does not know the new knight patroling Wolvendom's borders
,, weird but ok, he thinks basically
And then when it was time to visit some domains a little closer to Springvale for grinding
(Or rlly just to get some of their tiny restaurants homemade food yumm)
He notices more Favonius knights lurking around than usual
Or at least widening their patrols
And hes like wtf?
Ur like, huh.
I'll ask Springvale ppl wtf goin on
The locals respond that the search for the Great Creator has begun.
...
...you and Razor: 👁👄👁 w h o m s t ❔️
◇
Upon further questioning
(which was apparantly weird that yall didnt know, but eh, u just used the whole "feral wolf child with feral blacksmith parent living in woods ignorance" excuse)
Admittedly yall, quite literally, live under a rock lmao
They explain theres a whole ass prophecy
Abt how the Great Architect would succumb to a long slumber somewhere else in the vast universe after making the planet.
And when the time is right, they will reconnect to Teyvat, and awaken, and descend in a mortal form
(like the archons)
◇
..but the kicker is nobody knows wtf they look like bc:
1. All that lore is hella crumbly and old, and very hard to translate
2. Mortal forms sometimes look different than god forms, so even if they did know some defining features of the Creator, that wasnt guaranteed to be them...
◇
(i.e. they will have brown eyes, well. Thats a fuckton of ppl with brown eyes innit? 💀)
♤
So thru certain signs, that this mysterious prophecy wooooo
Said would happen, the nations of Teyvat and their many supernatural inhabitants are aware the ultimate god has descended
(The crops flourished? Animals got more wily, many of the sick ppl got better for no reason, the Irminsul started regrowing/filling out its base- like how it looked like a lightning struck tree rn 💀)
So every country are now trying to find them to be the first to welcome them home
Needless to say its lowkey a competition
◇
Meanwhile you and Razor are just:
... (゜▽゜;)
"Haha yeah cool..."
(Andrius already told u what u r to Teyvat and explained to Razor)
Ur both immediately slapping a cloak on u and keeping the hood up all the time
Yall dont wanna be seperated :(
Ur both paranoid for diff reasons,
Razor's just scared his Lupical is going to be taken from him again bc there r better, more refined humans wanting to be ur Lupical ;-;
And ur like-
Omfg that sounds like sm work 💀
While its nice to daydream abt what itd be like to be famous, realistically,
U could not handle that shit.
People crowding you all the time?
U cant just look busted anywhere u go, like a midnight snack run
Ppl would also expect u be,
Responsible??
To act like a competent ruler maybe???
Hell no.
U just wanted to play a pretty gacha game and spoil ur skrunklies
(At least, if they do wanna call u that, they dont make u do anything political 💀 but u doubt it)
◇
Needless to say, Razor is glued to ur side everywhere u go.
A domain a half mile away? Oh he'll come with dw
Ur gonna go stop by that food merchant further up the road for ingredients? Cool he'll sniff the best ones!
Ur going to see Andrius??
Oh he needed to see him too-
😭😭🥺🥺 poor babe
♧
Surprisingly enough,
Or maybe not his house is right tf there
Diluc is the first person to actually recognize you.
Razor had been subtly steering u away from Mondstadt for 3 weeks now, ever since yall talked to the Springvale locals
An u cant say u didnt notice, but u werent rlly stopping him
You wanted to be like Venti, chillin among the ppl regardless of ur powers, not the Raiden Shogun :/
And maybe shock some ppl who dont know ur a god like him too lol
◇
Diluc had been looking around the lesser patroled areas of Mondstadt to search for the Architect
He didn't even need those incompetent knights to tell him their god had finally descended
He already saw the signs long before Mondstadt
Bc youve been in Wolvendom, the area has flourished over time, more fish in the water, more game to hunt and bigger, crows making circles in the sky despite there being no corpse
And one of the closest places to you,
Is the Dawn Winery.
Diluc's security against Venti began to hold up better, the staff didn't have to clean as much things like dirt or weather damage to the manor,
His hawk had never been faster delivering his letters, he almost thought the little guy had been drugged with something
◇
He patroled Stormterror's Lair, and deep in the woods surrounding the manor that the knights hadn't bother to go into
Afterall, he figured you'd never had a mortal form before, so u were unlikely to fend for urself for very long in the woods lol
so he wanted to find u quick (aww softy :')
He even made a trip out to the Thousand Wind Temple and Dragonspine (he did report that one to the knights, he didn't want Amber, Bennett, or Creator-forbid Klee, being the few pyro users to have to explore it)
Finally, after doing the further away locations, siginificant in history and rich with leftover magic
Diluc figured that's where you might land first, so he saved Wolvendom for last
It would at least let him check on that wolf kid and maybe get to talk to him long enough to ask him if he's seen anything unusual.
The lord of Dawn Winery manor heads into the Wolvendom woods, just as sunset colors the trees...
◇
It was a Friday evening, the sun was setting, the weather was pleasant and it was time for all of the Lupical to come together and eat a big feast!! :)
About once a month, Andrius will come out for a few nights and dine with all of yall
Hes an old wolf give him a break, he takes long naps
So u cook lots of Mondstadt favorites to eat on and a few Liyue dishes too
Razor, ur favorite helper, has helped u finish the last dish and is now romping around with the puppies bless <3
U guys have dragged ur coffee table dining table setup out to sit and eat at
Andrius lets out a not too loud, not too quiet howl, and as the wolves, Razor and you lmao join in
Yall dig in, bones flying everywhere, spagetti noodles flingling around, it would put toddlers to shame lol
◇
Diluc hears a howl that is too... big to be a regular wolf.
It filled the air of Wolvendom like no howl before it, as he used the glowing lampgrass to help light the path deeper
He sneaks past a hilichurl camp or two, all fast asleep
He scans the woods, and figures he'll search the woods besides the path after he gets to that old stone carved pit-
Food?
Diluc sniffs the air, and squints deeper into the forest
The black branches shade the way ahead, but just barely... he can see the flicker of orange and blue light?
He summons his claymore, bracing it on his shoulder, and creeps into the treeline to better hide him
◇
You swear to god (dammit swear to.. you??) someone is watching you.
You look around the piles of fluffy doggos, happy and stuffed full they r slowly forming puppy piles
Andrius is finishing his meat platter, also sitting on all four legs on the ground
Razor is splayed on his back beside you, eyes closed, his feet sticking out the other side of the table, u chuckle at him
But not a single Lupical seems to be looking at you.
Gulping down your last few bites, you scan the treeline
U refuse to be that bitch in a horror movie where their gut says smth is off and they brush it off or barely look at their surroundings
Turning around to the treeline behind you, u see something... red fur?
U sit up some more, peering over the bushes at the bottom of the trees
You meet a pair of warm brown eyes, widened like they're just as shocked to see you
As u notice his familiar red high ponytail (but also not?? Its weird going from 2D to 3D and still recognizing bitches)
U peer down at his chest, as he carefully stands out of the foliage-
That familiar star shaped button that u can press for the character menu screen, the same thats on Razor, on Benny, on Fischl, on Lisa-
Hovers over Diluc's chest.
◇
Diluc is in the bush, observing the human(???) stranger (he really doesnt want to attract the attention of that.. giant spirit wolf thing)
The figure sitting at a ... table?? (He can barely process all these absurdities at once, hes only got so much brain space)
Has sensed his presence, and as he grips his claymore, ready to demand answers,
Razor startles, and jumps up, smelling the pyro user, he summons his weapon-
The figure locks eyes with him, and all he sees is gold.
Diluc drops his claymore.
☆
♡
☆
Have a cliffhanger bc idk 🤷♂️ Also srry it wasnt exactly Mondstadt finding u, and it somehow turned into a whole scenario?? Idk man
🤧 welp i hope that was decent Razor mom! Tysm for ur sweet feedback abt our beloved son 🙏💜🐺
Feel free to always talk again, thru comments, asks whatever!! :D
♡
Cheers,
💀♒️
(guys im so stupid i coud've been signing off with this simple emoji combo the whole time,, 😭i didnt actually think abt emojifying my name, just making it look pretty with some of my fav emojis... 😔)
If anyone reads this u should let me know which one is better lol
💀♒️
OR
🌒🌧🌊Aquarius♒️🌌🌘
OR like a combo???
♡my beloved♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist
#bless yalls soul u sent these so long now#jfc its feburary#wtf#hope u like it razor's mom!!#sorry abt my lateass reply 😭#also sorry i didnt do that version of Imposter AU u originally asked for#i just like my silly little shenanigans ok i cant stop#sorry im just a goofy silly little guy😔#genshin impact#genshin sagau#my asks#sagau#genshin imagines#genshin sagau ideas#gender neutral reader#genshin isekai#genshin god reader#self aware genshin#platonic genshin#genshin razor
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Got tagged by @skinnedcorpse to share 10 songs I’ve been listening to recently! So uhh here are some of mine. :)
Geneva Jacuzzi — Cannibal Babies. Omfg I saw Geneva Jacuzzi perform last night and she was INCREDIBLE. Genuinely like absolutely mindblowing, one of my favorite live shows I’ve seen in a bit. This song in particular has been really sticking out for me.
HEALTH — L.A. Looks. Been on a little bit of a HEALTH kick and this song in particular just fucks so hard. It’s so euphoric and bright. Also I love living in LA.
ACTORS — In Real Life. One of my favorite darkwave bands put out a new single!! I’ve been really hype for new music from them and this track is really good. Been listening to it a bunch.
Clan of Xymox — Louise. I’m about to throw some real classic obvious stuff at y’all cuz I’ve been spending some time with some old faves recently. Been having a Xymox moment. They’re so good.
Siouxsie and the Banshees — Monitor. Man the other day I just threw on Juju for the first time in a bit and was like damn. I can’t believe she did all that. 1981 dropping like legendary iconic classic after classic back to back like that. It’s a cold take I know but god I love this song.
New Order — Age of Consent. This song came on at the club for the first time in ages recently and it went offffffff it was so nice to hear it.
Virgin Prunes — Bau-Dachöng. Sorry for being goth. Was reminded of this album awhile back so I’ve been revisiting it a bunch. I swear it was before St Patrick’s Day I’m not one of those guys I promise.
Male Tears — Creep Distance. This album just screams summertime for me, especially summer 2022 for me. As the weather clears up a little here and the sun is finally coming out I’ve been super nostalgic. Sounds like rum and cherry cola with lime.
Choir Boy — Two Lips. Polar opposite of Male Tears, Choir Boy just screams the nostalgia of cold winter nights, especially their first album.
Beborn Beton — Another World. Goth club staple from the past couple of decades, I’ve heard it in clubs for YEARS but never actually went out of my way to look it up and listen to it recreationally and damn. It goes off actually.
Idk who to tag!! @lysistra @ourladyofomega @omegaversereloaded @testure-1988 @theonlycure? If y’all want ofc!!
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Hello, Stranger
Warnings: none, pure fluff
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Female Reader
Summary: In which Y/N and Eddie re-meet for the first time.
a/n: this fic is basically based off the scene of the conversation Eddie and Chrissy had minus the whole drug thing lmao. That scene was super cute to me so. Also this gif of him.. omfg he's the cutest. Lmk if you want to be tagged for Stranger Things Content.
© Maybanks-Luver, please do not steal or translate my work
You were walking in the woods, heading to the table that you would usually sit at when you needed to clear your head. So many things had gone on this week from drama with your friends to drama with your family that you just needed a break, some place to clear your head.
You had the feeling that you were being followed or watched. You tried to forget about it but, you just couldn't shake the feeling that someone was following you. You finally decided to turn around and you jumped when you saw Eddie standing behind you.
"Sorry." Eddie said with a chuckle. "Didn't mean to scare you. You okay?" He asked. "I- uh- yeah." You said with a nod. "You just scared me, that's all." You said as you sat down at the table. You were shocked when you saw Eddie sit down across from you. You studied his face for a moment. "Eddie Munson, right?" You asked.
"Yep, that's me." He said with a nod. "I figured you would still remember me." He said. You looked at him confused. "What do you mean?" You asked confused. He looked down at his hands for a moment before he spoke.
"Well, y'know.. this isn't exactly the first time we've umm... hung out." Eddie said. "No?" You asked. "You don't remember?" He asked. "I'm sorry.." You said as you shook your head. "It's okay." He said softly. He sat there for a moment quietly before dramatically putting his hand on his chest and flinging himself off the chair onto the ground. "Oh!" You yelled slightly in shock.
"I wouldn't remember me either, Y/N. Honestly." He said as he got up. You laughed as you watched him. "Uhmm.. do I have stuff in my hair?" Eddie asked as he used his fingers to comb the leaves out of his hair making you giggle. "You don't remember me?" He asked as he crossed his arms and looked over at you with a grin. "I'm sorry!" You said with a laugh.
"Middle school. Talent Show. You were doing this cheer thing. You know the-" He lazily began to do part of your old cheer act with his hands. "That thing." He said. You giggled as you watched him. "It was pretty cool actually." He said. "And I... I was with my band-" "Corroded Coffin!" You cut him off. "Corroded Coffin!" Eddie mumbled as he clapped his hands and spun around before pointing at you. "You do remember!" He said.
"No of course! With a name like that how could I forget?" You said. "I don't know. You're a freak." He said. You smiled a little. "No, you just... you looked so-" "Different?" He asked. "Yeah, well. Uhmm... my hair was buzzed and I didn't have these sweet old tatties yet." Eddie said as he pulled down the collar of his shirt revealing some of his tattoos.
"You played guitar, right?" You asked. "Uh-huh, still do. Still do." He said. "You should come see us. We uh, we play at the hideout on Tuesdays. It's pretty cool, we actually got a crowed of about five... drunks." Eddie said. You giggled and looked down. "It's not exactly the garden but you gotta start somewhere, right? So." He said as he gently punched the tree a few times before turning back to you.
"You know, you're not what I thought you'd be like." You said with a smile. "Mean and scary?" He asked as he grabbed some of his hair and put it over his mouth. "Yeah.." You said quietly. "Yeah, well.." He smiled as he started to walk back over to the table. "I actually thought that you'd kinda be mean and scary too." He said. "Me?" You asked. "Terrifying." Eddie said with a smile as he sat back down.
"Wow, okay thanks." You said with a laugh. He just shrugged and chuckled a little. The two of you sat there quietly before someone spoke. "So, uh... are you busy tonight?" Eddie asked. "No, I don't think I am, why?" You asked. "Well, I was just wondering if well... y'know... if you maybe wanted to come over to my place, y'know? Just to hang out or something." He said.
You smiled a little and looked down before looking back up at the brunette boy. "Sure, I'll be there." You said with a smile. Eddie grinned. "Alright, sounds good." He said. You smiled and nodded before getting up. "But, I should really get going." You said. "Okay." Eddie said with a nod. "See ya tonight?" He asked. "You bet." You said with a smile before walking away.
a/n: I hope y'all enjoyed this fic!
#st#ST#Eddie Munson#eddie munson#eddiemunson#eddie#munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x oc#eddie munson x y/n#fluff#st fluff#stranger things fluff#eddie fluff#eddie munson fluff#joseph quinn#joe quinn#stranger things#strangers things#stanger things#st4#stranger things s4
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Genshin Creator AU idea
Basing it on the fact I saw an au about the creator of teyvat can shapeshift.
Imagine the reader actually turning into a pokemon or legendary pokemon- hdhdhdhhdhdhfhfhghtjrjdhfg
Imagine a lucky 10 year old is using their actual God to play pokemon battles with a hilichurl or just making their friends join in so they can create basically elite four but 10 year olds.
But if you had a friend or sibling join you? Legendary Pokémon time
I can just imagine the acolytes discover an argument between reshiram and zekrom while a Kyurem is just chilling watching this happen wondering who will win.
Reshiram (friend 1): FUCK NO WE ARE NOT ORDERING PINEAPPLE ON PIZZA! WE ARE GETTING FUCKING CHEESE!!!
Zekrom (friend 2): omfg- BRO LET ME HAVE MY PIZZA- I SAY WE HAVE IT PINEAPPLEE!!!!
Reshiram (friend 1): you know what’s the truth? That your ‘ideal’ pizza is FUCKING GARBAGE!!!
Zekrom (friend 2): you know what? In my ideal world I want you to fucking burn in hell.
Reshiram: OH YOU WANT TO GO BITCH?!
Zekrom: IM READY AS ILL EVER BE MOTHER FUCKER!!!!
Kyurem (Creator reader): Damn this is the best entertainment I’ve ever seen.
Hanging out with your creator while they are a playful mew is so wholesome.
I imagine Ei hanging out with a Thundurus, Venti with a braviary, kusanali with a Xernas, shaymin, Celebi, or virizon, and Zhongli with rayquaza or Kyurem, and probably regigigas. Hydro archon maybe with a suicune or kyogre. Pyro definitely entei reshiram or Moltres. And maybe the Tsaritsa with a kyurem, articuno, and Regice.
Imagine people trying to get the creator in victini the victory pokémon to ensure they can have victory in their battle.
A creator reader in gardevoir or froslass when they feel graceful.
If they are probably want to playful or want to sleep, then delcatty.
If someone is gonna make a fic, I beg- tag me pls 🥺
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opposites attract | mick schumacher social media au
pairing: mick schumacher x reader
they say opposites attract, so when mick is linked to a girl no one would expect, safe to say no one expects it. (mick is still on the grid in this cause fuck you haas i dont care)
yourusername
liked by emmachamberlain, mickschumacher and 101,776 others
tagged: yourbff
yourusername: weekends that finish in random people's kitchens >>>
view all 9,056 comments
ynstan4 i love her so much but her willingness to do anything gives me so much anxiety
ynfan55 yeah she's insane but that's why i love her
user22 is this girl famous for any actual reason?
ynforever34 1) insane 2) cool ass internet show
user77 honestly i was converted after i saw her interviewing at the golden globes
f1girl33 so we all saw that mick
minischumi bro it's an instagram like he hasn't proposed
metgala
liked by mickschumacher, oliviarodrigo and 220,675 others
tagged: yourusername
metgala: after many, many requests we listened and y/n y/ln has taken the night off from her crazy life to do the interviews (and look stunning) on the met gala red carpet, stay tuned to watch!
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user450 idk who she is but why did she slay the theme more than the actual guests
ynismyqueen she's so mother !!! it's so weird seeing her looking professional rather than lookng like she's just been ran over
f1babygirl okay this is the second y/n-related post mick has liked in a row ...
yngirly33 yall ever heard of a hobby?
yourusername thanks for having me baby
mickschumacher posted on their story
[caption: maybe i should put her on a leash]
yourusername
liked by mickschumacher, pierregasly and 320,876 others
tagged: mickschumacher
yourusername: what the fuck is a soft launch
view all 14,560 comments
mickschumacher so this was not how i planned to do this but love you
yourusername i love you more micky
schumijr WTF IS GOING ON ?????
user67 i for one love this pairing
f1stan55 same it's giving opposites attract
danielricciardo has anyone checked on seb?
yourusername check yourself ricciardo, i met seb after the second date KEEP UP
user56 she kills me
mickschumacher
liked by yourusername, estebanocon and 421,078 others
tagged: yourusername
mickschumacher: dragged her all the way to sweden
view all 8,045 comments
yourusername i'm happy wherever you are <3 (you may have made a mistake because the alcohol is strong here)
mickschumacher i love you dumbass
user78 so she's at race of champions? the bitches there are already crazy
ynstan69 where can i put a bet on that she goes in the ice water?
estebanocon don't have too much fun without me
yourusername so when are we all double-dating?? i was thinking like sky diving or maybe area 51??
mickschumacher maybe dinner will be good for now
yourusername added to their story
[caption: when in sweden]
daniel3.jpg
liked by mickschumacher, yourusername and 234,768 others
tagged: yourusername, mickschumacher
daniel3.jpg: a weekend with chalk and cheese - never again these two make me feel so old
view all 8,129 comments
yourusername i thought you were the party animal of f1 and you can't handle someone cutting bangs in your bathroom?
danielricciardo no i can't, you got me there
mickschumacher i think they look lovely but maybe we should leave hairdressing to the sober professionals :)
user66 omg i wasn't sold before but i think i love them now
f1fan45 i love how much more of mick's personality we see now, he seems more sure in himself
yourusername
liked by mickschumacher, danielricciardo and 506,223 others
tagged: mickschumacher
yourusername: count your days steiner you drive to survive merchant
view all 17,096 comments
user68 OMFG
f1stan09 SHE WENT THERE
schumistan66 now we know where mick got his confidence on the radio from
mickschumacher i love you but stop threatening my boss with violence
yourusername he deserves it <3
f1girl38 i'm so glad mick has someone to stick up for him
ynismymum i have no doubt she probably said something in the garage as well
mickschumacher
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 602,348 others
tagged: yourusername
mickschumacher: happy anniversary love!! i can't believe it's been a whole year already, but i've loved every moment with you. not only have you made me more confident and brave, but you've shown me a whole new way to view life. i love you, here's to many more years xx
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yourusername OMG I'M GOING TO CRY, no but on a serious note, i love you too baby!! you're the kindest soul in the world and you deserve everything and more. you make me want to be better and you deal with my constant weird shit I LOVE YOU
charles_leclerc this is cute but some of us are lonely so keep it to yourselves xx
yourusername fuck off sharl
user45 man i'm alone
f1wagupdates i think she might be my fave after that comment
schumibaby and not after she threatened steiner and threw up on jenson ???
f1girly56 she was so real for all of this
#f1 instagram au#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 x reader#mick schumacher#mick schumacher x you#mick schumacher x reader#mick schumacher instagram edit#mick schumacher imagine#mick schumacher instagram au
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hey u ok ? i was going thru my inbox and saw u or maybe another mod's old message [on anon] abt how funny it was to them that i put the lyrics to bomb rush blush in the tags so i went to come see how this tournament turned out but . i guess it didnt ? just wanna make sure ur ok do you need me to summon you with the power of bomb rush blush
oh my god. holy fuck. shit damn. I FORGOT THIS EXISTED. 😭😭😭 IM GONNA KILL GOD OMFG
so i have this thing called school and it made my Dumb Ass forget about this tourney entirely. I STILL WANNA DO IT!!! i just Completely Forgor sobbing emoji
I’LL MAKE ANOTHER POLL ASAP!!!
#mod s replies#mod s updates#soundtrack splashdown#game osts#splatoon#splatoon 2#splatoon 3#tournaments#vgm#splat3#splat2n#splat3n#i forgot literally all of my tags#fuck#😭😭😭
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I saw you got the Mass Effect collection a while ago and wanted to say a little fun fact that there’s some OG Baldur’s Gate references in ME2 and 3 because Bioware made the first two BG games. I won’t say what they are for spoiler reasons but one of them you’ll get right away. Hope you have fun with ME! It’s one of my favorite RPG franchises
I answered this ask 4 different times but each time tumblr refuses to post it and it comes back to my inbox- I don't even know what to do anymore bc I had to rewrite a long response each time.
If this one gets sent through, I'll try to edit it on the browser to include my actual answer.
Edit: it worked this time around, just my luck.
Okay so, I've never played ME before or heard anything about it, so I'm going in fully blind. I made an earthborn war hero vanguard character.
Bc I like earth, I like being a hero and I like mele characters.
I put the difficulty at vetran so I can add more spice, I might regret it, probably.
My name is shepherd? Like are they sheep and I herd them or? Is this a Mary and the little lambs situation.
Game started and man that is one hot alien, like a zebra! Oh wait that's just white paint on his face-
Why are people being mean to him :( and oh I get dialogue! Hell yeah i will defend my alien friend.
Racism against aliens? In my human galactic civilization game? More likely than you think.
I'm walking around the ship and talking to people, man these guys are really mean to the alien. If Nihlus turns out to be a traitor I wouldn't even blame him, I'd be one too if people talked this much shit behind my back.
Also corporal Jenkins!!! He is so precious omfg. I will protect him with my life and we will spend our honeymoon watching his favourite spykids movies <3
He is talking about being a hero and awful a lot tho- kinda worrying.
A nice small detail is the npc gaurds saluting to me when i walk by, since I'm a commander and all. It's really nice!
Okay I talked to the hot alien again and I think i have a shot with him! Let's fucking go!
We're on the planet, hot alien isn't with my team but hey! At least Jenkins is here.
I'm trying out weapons, I like lance so far. I have shit accuracy so fast fire rate makes up for it. But the controller layout is really confusing, there are 4 different buttons to switch to different weapons but the crouch had to be the awkward joystick press, why?
.
Jenkins died.
:(
:(((((((((
I'm killing everyone I meet.
Rip babygurl, you would've loved lego batman.
Also I can level up now, I'm not sure what any of those skills do or what any of those words mean so I'll throw all my eggs in the charm and intimidation basket until things become too hard to kill.
Maybe then I'll look up a guide and curse my past self.
I met Williams, she seems nice and I let her tag along on my team. I miss Jenkins </3
So far I'm really having fun tho and enjoying the game! Do you have any tips or recommendations? I'd love to hear them. I genuinely am clueless and just waddling around gawking at the surprisingly good graphics for a game this old.
Here is my character btw! She is nb in my heart <3 still I'm glad that we even get the choice to be a woman. The character edit screen reminds me of dark souls character edit.
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They are very much part of my upbringing and my culture whether I like it or not. It's a very intricate subject and I did a poor job at explaining it, but I get what Matty means.
// omfg @steel-elle (cant tag but holy shit, do I get you)
As a Croatian I can relate to all of your experiences, to the point where my dad is a non-believer (I believe he would say he's an atheist, but imo he is more in the pursuit of understanding and knowing instead of belief/religion). And my mum is a believer but on a very mild level (we go to church for the big holidays, mostly as a tradition nowadays).
But I myself have been saying I'm culturally catholic in the sense of upbringing and basically everything that surround me. Religion as class in school (from ages 7-15; then I took ethics in high school), religion all around, and I just started rejecting it very early on (I was about 10-11) - becauseee basically I was going to get the first communion sacrament (fancy), and at the age of 9 to be allowed to do this i had to;
Go to religion classes once (maybe even twice my memory is hazy) a week IN SCHOOL (secular state my ass)
Go to religion classes in church once a week (after school)
You HAD to be present at both, you couldn't opt out at school and say I'm going to church things. It had to be both.
Sing in a choir - even though choir practices coincided with my acting classes I had to alternate for a whole year (surely God would have wanted me to). And wasn't even a type of child who would sing solos, I was one of 20ish others just singing in the background. My acting on the other hand - spectacular (for a 9 year old at least).
I wasn't allowed to miss choir practice without a valid reason.
Had to go to specific Sunday mass even if I had volleyball games, or if we were out of town my mum had to explain we were idk on a family trip and I would have to go to another time-slot in the week.
So that was the academic from age 9-10. And of course once communion has been squared away I wanted to not go, like this was it for me. The bs that started it all was me having to miss my drama classes. And I wanted to stop going to religion classes in school, my parents supported me, but thw nun(!!) who would come in to teach saw me in school hallway twice within first two weeks of school and basically said she was "disappointed in me" and idk implied goinf to hell. So I went back home distraught and asked my mum to like get me into religion classes bcs it was the better option.
Anyway, I've got a weird religion/catholic kink now so the jokes on them.
Best religious experience was that I went to a full on catholic kindergarten and that was amazing. (probably did not help the kink tho). But it was very light and easy going, we had funky lil childrens prayers, and listened to stories about how we can do kind deeds n shit.
(sorry this is so long but I read the words religious discourse or see the word catholic and my brain just... needs to join)
Don’t apologize at alllllll!!! This is really really interesting for me to learn actually. And it’s a way for all of us to collectively expand and explain the notion of culture vs theology or religious practice that Matty hinted at.
And I think it varies so much from one country to another too! Like you guys (Italy and Croatia) have a different experience than me/ in the US. I was talking to Ambrose @bookish-strawberry about it last night, but I feel like England is very chill about atheist and it feels like the norm whereas in the US, even though the constitution says “freedom of religion” and separation between church and state, government is VERY fearful of atheism AND tons of Republican lawmakers use the Bible as a justification. (Which is the opposite of what the country is supposed to be founded on but that’s a whole other thing.) so my experiences with religion and culture here are very very different from y’all. And then my own personal beliefs as a Muslim existing in an Islamophobic country. All of this is super clarifying and interesting to hear how others around the world have experienced this stuff! I love it when you all chime in!
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