like i will do to you if you bring that hate shit out

*pounds fist on table* ok i need to talk about the god-tier klance moments in s3e03 “the hunted” because damn there’s a couple scenes that are so powerful and important and i just….holy shit. buckle up, y’all.

this episode is fucking great for a lot of reasons, but one of my favorite parts of it is how much it shows the development of keith & lance’s relationship: especially 1) how good lance has become at grounding keith & helping him control his reckless impulses, and 2) how keith feels like he can be open and honest with lance about his fears/insecurities––which is a big fucking deal because we’ve almost never seen him do this. 

the first scene that really struck me is this part where keith is leading the team after lotor and it’s just….a big mess. he’s not thinking about keeping the team together. allura’s falling behind and he’s not paying any attention. he’s not considering that this might be a trap. all he can think about is diving in headfirst without considering the consequences.

and then this happens:

uhhhh….oh my god??

look, we know how keith gets. we know how hot-headed and stubborn he can be. i mean listen, we’re talking about this kid who literally tried to fight zarkon by himself.

and yet…..even in the middle of this intense chase, lance gets through to him. he brings keith down from that battle-rage and makes him see reason. and he does it in a way that’s straightforward and brutally honest (“you’re endangering the team and you can’t do this”) which i think is exactly why it works. that’s the kind of direction keith needs, and tbh out of everyone on the team it makes the most sense that it comes from lance.

i’m just

me: hey can i get a fucking uhhhhh lance being keith’s impulse control
dreamworks: *gives me this*
me: *kicking down the door* HOLY FUCK MOM

and look i was already sobbing over this one small part but then we get THIS….THIS SCENE….

oh boy oh wow where do i stART?!

god damn this scene is beautiful––visually, thematically, it’s just …. so powerful and significant.

first of all i need to freak out a little over the way the scene is set up and how wonderful the symbolism is. 

it starts with keith literally in the shadows, and then slowly emerging and drifting up towards lance with their lions facing each other. lance & red are above keith & black which is really interesting.

as we all know, keith is the leader right now. and yet, both literally and figuratively, he’s not positioning himself higher than lance––in fact, he’s doing the very opposite. and his lion doesn’t have her head lowered in shame either; the lions are directly looking each other in the eyes (which i feel like is pretty damn rare??) and that’s very meaningful. everything about the visual setup of the scene just screams openness, honesty, vulnerability. 

(side note: also wow @ that red and blue background, amiright)

and then we have everything that keith says. and boy….there’s so much to unpack here:

- he admits it was his fault and he led everyone into a trap
- he also admits that everyone warned him (lance warned him) and he wasn’t listening
- and because of that he put everyone else in danger

and man i gotta give huge props to steven yeun here because his voice acting in this scene….jeez it broke my heart. keith says all this so quietly, his voice is literally shaking. shit, he sounds close to tears. this is possibly the closest we’ve ever seen keith to totally breaking down and it’s just…..it hurts so much and it’s so important.

it really hits you in this moment that keith is a kid. he’s 16 years old!! he didn’t want to lead the team & he doesn’t know how to do it. he can’t do it by himself. he doesn’t say any of that explicitly here but it’s 100% clear that that’s exactly what he’s saying.

and he says this to lance of all people. lance, his supposed “rival”! you would think lance would be the last person he’d want to turn to for reassurance or to blatantly admit “wow i fucked up real bad.” and yet….here we are. it’s moments like these that really prove that under the surface, these two don’t hate each other in the least. they like each other. they respect each other. they rely on each other!! (*whispers* space ranger partners….) 

and lance’s response only proves my point even more. he could easily have said “i told you so” or otherwise berated keith for his mistake. but he doesn’t! his answer is:

- yes, you messed up.
- but we’re going to fix it. we. i can’t stress that enough! he doesn’t say “you messed up and now you have to do something about it.” he doesn’t say “you messed up and now i’m going to take over and do something about it.” he’s essentially saying “yeah you made a mistake but that’s in the past….and now we’re going to take care of it together.” 

and that’s?? so great?? because keith more or less admitted that he was feeling this huge burden weigh down on him, and lance––in his own subtle way––lifted that weight off keith’s shoulders. he’s reassuring keith that he’s not alone in this. *wipes tears from my eyes*

and if all that wasn’t enough, keith immediately saying “you’re right” makes it all the more significant. he’s openly admitting once again that he fucked up, but he’s also agreeing with lance’s statement that they can still turn things around and fix his mistake as a team. which is…..wow. 

tl;dr - everything about this pair of scenes just proves how keith & lance work so well together and need each other. it shows how important it is for them to be open and honest with each other, and demonstrates how they both have that capability. 

and i’m gonna scream about it for a hundred years. 

Bulletproof Monk

Witnessed in my friend’s campaign.

Friend of mine asked the GM if his friend could join our campaign. Graduated with a bachelors in fine arts and my friend thought he would bring interesting role-play to our games. So all of us start thinking to ourselves “this guys gonna be at Bard” but we were all surprised to find he actually was a Monk.

And not just a monk. The Bob Ross of monks. The nicest yet simultaneously the most terrifying character we’d ever witnessed. This is the story of how he beat the first serious boss of our campaign.

We were pinned behind cover vs a Gunslinger.

Gunslinger: “Come out. Come out. Wherever you are SO I CAN SHOOT YOU!”

Party talks about what to do and Monk is silent.

Then, as we are talking, he yells, “Ok. I’ll come out, but you better make that shot count!”

Monk OOC: “So there’s about 40 ft between me and him right?”

GM: “Yeah, and your speed would let you get there.”

Monk OOC: “Ok, but I deliberately want to walk slow enough so he gets a chance to shoot me.”

GM: “Uh, ok. Sure.”

Monk going towards him slowly: “Show me what you’ve got.”

Gunslinger: “You’re some kind of stupid, boy!” *Shoots*

GM: “That’s a hit. You take.”

Monk OOC: “I use Snatch Arrows.”

GM: “Wait…does that work on bullets?”

-One Rulebook Check later-

GM: “Ok so the rifle goes off and *Monk* reaches up faster than any of you can see and catches the bullet with two fingers. *Gunslinger* turns white as a sheet.”

Monk then proceeds to walk up and take a seat next to the guy, putting an arm around his shoulders while holding the bullet in his other hand.

Monk: “Hey, friend. Looks like you almost lost this. Good thing I grabbed it for you, huh? Why don’t you put the gun down before you lose any more?”

Monk OOC: “In case it’s not clear that’s an intimidate.”

GM: “Ok, roll for me.”

Nat 20

GM: “Of course it is. *Gunslinger* immediately puts his gun down in front of him and actually starts crying.”

Monk patting Gunslinger’s back: “Aw, there, there buddy. You almost got me. Why don’t you come with us now? Hands behind your back please. I’d hate to have to chase you.”

Our Wizard OOC to my friend: “So why did you never tell us your friend was Ace Ventura?”

about last night (m)

Originally posted by hohbi

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: enemies to lovers | explicit smut, fluff and angst

length: 15k

summary: you had promised yourself; if you were to ever hook up with that asshole park jimin, it would be just a one night stand.

a/n: dis was a monster to write im so tired. i stayed up until 12pm to finish this and now its finally done :) also how does every new fic i write get dirtier and dirtier?? idk. 

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Very important observations from seeing DEH from the fourth row yesterday
  • It’s not an illusion. Mike Faist really is that tall. And yet his pants are so insanely tight like do they even make jeans that tight for legs that long or did they have to custom-make them? I need to know
  • Half of it was hidden behind the bed, but from what I saw, there is a deck of cards, what appears to be an old blanket, a tackle box, and a safe on Connor’s shelf. There is also a Harley-Davidson sticker on the side of it
  • Evan has a three-ring binder and two massive books on his side-table, like thicker than some dictionaries I own
  • Some of Jared’s shirts include one with pictures of flying pigs that says “don’t stop believing,” another that says “coffee is for quitters,” one with a faded superhero logo (I think it was the Flash?), and one that says “Pokemon made me do it.”
  • Evan has a Dell laptop, Jared, Alana, and Zoe all have Macs
  • Zoe and Connor both wear multiple bracelets
  • Connor looks so completely sad during Waving Through a Window and it hurts
  • The one time the actual Connor smiles is when he’s talking to Evan in the computer lab
  • Idk about Ben, but when Evan is singing about climbing the tree in For Forever, MLB starts crying
  • Imaginary!Connor has this dorky grin almost all the time, but especially during Sincerely, Me
  • Cynthia cries into Connor’s pillow during Requiem
  • There’s a point where imaginary!Connor playfully hits Evan and it was so loud like I can see why the Newsies ended up bruised after fight scenes with Mike he does not hold back
  • After the Sincerely, Me reprise, he looks so bummed out that he doesn’t get to be friends with Jared
  • When Zoe is upset or stressed out, she taps her foot
  • When Heidi is yelling at Evan, he gets tense and teary-eyed, like he’s never heard his mom yell like that and it terrifies him
  • Will. Fucking. Roland. Holy shit, this guy needs more credit. I wouldn’t have even noticed if it didn’t literally happen ten feet in front of me, but during Good For You, when Heidi comes back in and he isn’t at all the focus or even in the light, Jared absolutely breaks down. Like, his body heaving as he desperately holds back tears, teeth clenched, clutching his chest, leaning against the wall on the edge of the stage. And just before he turns back and starts singing again, he pulls himself together and lets out this furious shout and it hurt my soul
  • ALSO MLB SANG ALONG AT THE END OF GOOD FOR YOU LIKE IN THE DC PRODUCTION
  • Okay so I’ve seen this show three times now and idk if Mike was just super into it yesterday or what but holy shit the scene where it’s revealed that Evan attempted suicide was different and even more painful. Like, imaginary!Connor was literally screaming “EVERYONE WILL HATE YOU!” and then when he asked “how’d you break your arm?” he said it like he was taunting Evan with what happened, but then once it was all out in the open, his entire demeanor changed. He started slouching a little, his voice got quieter, higher, and started breaking, and then he fucking cried. Like tears just streaming down his face and falling to the stage and when he sang the reprise of For Forever, he smiled, as if the lie was the one hope he had, the one thing he was clinging to, and it was so good that it took away the pain, but his eyes were still red and glistening in the spotlight and ahh I have never felt so much for a literal figure of someone’s imagination
  • During Words Fail, Zoe is just staring at Evan with wide, tear-filled eyes, Cynthia is outright sobbing and can’t bring herself to look at him, and Larry isn’t crying, but he looks so betrayed, like Evan just punched him in the face
  • Kristolyn Lloyd and Michael Park each put an arm around Mike Faist during curtain call
The houses as types of friends I have
  • Gryffindor: Will act like they can beat your ass but forgets about it a day later // Owns a hoverboard // "I hate this song but the guy who sings it has a funny name so let's play it for the 50th time" // Will probably bring you into an abandoned house in the middle of the night and scare the shizzle out of you.
  • Hufflepuff: The Mom™ friend // Will share their lasagna if you're a really close // Respects the heck out of you // "I will beat you!" // "Wait, no pls don't hurt me I was kidding" // Fucking loves cats // "I wear itchy pastel chokers everyday because I'm FABULOUS" // Loves cute nicknames.
  • Ravenclaw: "I would hang out today, but I kinda wanna learn Mandarin first" // Is very open minded and a wonderful person too talk to, unless you say something that they REALLY don't agree with // Actually has a plan but only a 50/50 percent chance of carrying it out // "Awesome, free stuff!" // Won't judge you too hard if your for the right reasons // Knows™ what to do most of the time.
  • Slytherin: "Boi watch me" // Has a resting bitch face // You regret ever angering them // Once swam half a mile to an island on an innertube bc their 7 yr old cousin said they couldn't // Only came back bc they threatened them with no food // "I hate everyone" // Really does hate everyone // "I really don't want to do this but I gotta stay fit and strong and all that shit" // Acts innocent but their friends really KNOW.
the types as bitches i hate in college and also ive had a lot of wine

ESFJ: that social butterfly bitch that doesn’t understand anything ever without asking twelve clarifying questions before you can explain shit, like i was gonna explain that obvious feature of your new iphone in four seconds chris, how about you chill and stop acting like IM the weird one

ISFJ: that boring nice bitch who has probably never had a unique individual thought in their life. they’re like, solely reactionary beings, the true wobbuffets of real life.

ESFP: that crazy bitch whose super weird but everybody likes because theyre just weird enough to be likable but never hangs out with you consistently because theyre too involved with theatre or ecstasy or some shit idk

ISFP: that sarcastic bitch whose somehow still obsessed with fandoms and superwholock and probably owns a horse back home or something

ENFJ: that starry eyed bitch who loves everybody and wants to save the world or some shit, idk, my eyes glazed over a quarter way through your monologue; besides, it all just pans out to you feeling bad about yourself because you can’t live up to the impossible standards you set for yourself anyways so am i really missing anything???

INFJ: that passive aggressive bitch whos always gotta remind you that they’re the most rare mbti type, and act all ethereal and distant and shit when we all know ur a dime a dozen on a college campus anyways

ENFP: that emotionally dead bitch who convinces everybody that theyre not because theyre so enthusiastic and tells you their whole life story the first time you meet them to cause shock and awe but also to get you lowkey emotionally attached

INFP: that sensitive bitch who wants to be a writer or an artist or something but is too obsessed with memes to get very far 

ESTJ: that polysci bitch who runs for class president when everybody knows damn well you don’t do any real anything on campus and the dean regards you with as much contempt as i do

ISTJ: that awkward bitch who knows they’re not that fun so they try really hard to put themselves out there and just makes it awkward and weird for the whole party

ESTP: that loud bitch who gotta be the center of attention all the time and everybody likes for some reason

ISTP: that angry bitch whose a wannabe sociopath and always telling you how much they hate people and want to murder people for, like, literally no reason like calm down edgelord tom.

ENTJ: that problematic bitch who starts shit right at the end of class because success and proving that they know shit is the only thing that makes them feel anything anymore

INTJ: that condescending sarcastic ass bitch that rolls their eyes whenever somebody raises their hand and is probably one dumb question away from bringing a gun to school

ENTP: that annoying bitch who starts arguments in class with everybody because they think its fun or wanna prove they know useless knowledge or logic or some shit idk stanley and idc just stop arguing with the professor its psych 101 and i want to go home

INTP: that quiet bitch who spends the whole party looking around in the corner and asking their friend if they can leave yet and only talks during class to explain something semi useless and tangental to the topic at hand 

Shiver (One Shot)

A/N: I got this idea from a scene in Twilight (if you’re a fan, you’ll know which scene lol) and I wanted to put my own sexy twist on it with Bucky. I hope you guys like it! - D. 

Shiver: After a mission goes bad, Reader and Bucky are forced to take shelter during a snowy night. What happens when you show symptoms of hypothermia? 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Graphic details of sex. Swearing. Extremely NSFW. There’s also sex gifs used. (If you’re not comfortable with any of these, keep scrolling.) 

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Out-lawyering an Inevitable

 (This happened during downtime as sort of an interview-slash-session-zero for a new player to replace a player who’d dropped out.  The new character is an elf cleric whose backstory has him running an apothecary on the side, specializing in reviving the dead.  There were dice rolls involved, but I was not privy to any of them since this was all done on Discord.  The whole party was listening, but the rest of us had our mics muted.  All kibitzing was done in the OOC text channel, but I’m omitting that here since neither participant was reading it at the time.)

DM:  You see what appears to be a construct approaching.  *Dice roll.*  I’m just going to go ahead and give you that it’s an Inevitable.

Cleric:  Marut, I’m guessing?

 (Note:  Inevitables are construct outsiders who are built to enforce universal laws; Maruts specialize in dealing with people who cheat death.)

DM:  Very good.  Do you try to run or attack?

Cleric:  Nah, I’m good.  I wait for it to approach.

DM:  *Raises a brow.*  Alright, then.  *Clears his throat and does a creditable Michael Dorn impression for the Marut’s voice.*  “You are Taviel Andaris.”  Statement, not question, by the way.

Cleric:  “I am.  What brings… I would ask what brings you to my apothecary, but I think I already know.”

DM:  “If you expect the charges against you, then you already know of your crime.  You stand accused of denying death its due.  To date you have resurrected four hundred and seventeen people…”

Cleric:  “Um, four hundred twenty-two.  It was a busy week last week.”

DM:  *Without missing a beat.* “…Four hundred and twenty-two people.  My programming is to stop this from happening again.  Your options…”

Cleric:  “Defying death?  Um.  Not guilty, actually.”  Not rolling a bluff check, I’m not bluffing.

DM:  Fine by me, I’m still rolling sense motive.  *Dice roll.*  The Marut looks profoundly dubious.  “You not only confessed to your crime, you corrected my outdated count.  You have already admitted guilt.”

Cleric:  “I did no such thing.  Yes, I specialize in resurrections; no, I am not guilty of keeping anyone from the grave.”

DM:  …I think I see where you’re going with this, but the Marut won’t.  “Your arguments are irrreconcilable.  My programming is to stop this from happening again.  Your options are to accept a geas or to be destroyed.”

Cleric:  “If you wish to place a geas on me to prevent me from, as you phrased it, denying death its due, then you are welcome to do so.  It will not affect my business or business practices.”

DM:  The Marut looks sort of bemused.  “You do understand what a geas is, correct?”

Cleric:  “I can cast them, myself — and break them.  I would not need to break yours to continue my business.”

DM:  *Dice roll, snort.*  It’s not happy with that answer.

Cleric:  *Laughs!* I can make it a lot unhappier, but I’m not set up for this kind of a one-on-one fight.  “Let me explain myself.  How much do you know about my business besides the resurrection count?”

DM:  *Dice roll.*  It scowls at you.  “I will allow this, but be brief.”

Cleric:  “Let me rephrase that question, actually:  How many people have I granted immortality?”

DM:  *Snickers.* I stand corrected, that’s not where I thought you were going with this.  It doesn’t like that answer, but it doesn’t move.  “You have granted no one immortality.”

Cleric:  “And how many people have I brought back to life who were not killed by old age or disease?”

DM:  *Dice roll.*  It gives you a triumphant look at that.  “Three.”

Cleric:  Shit.  Um.  “Those were deliberately administered diseases with the intent of killing the victims, two from traps and one that was later successfully tried as a murder case.  They can not be considered natural deaths.”

DM:  Nice save!  *Dice roll.*  I’ll allow that.

Cleric:  Yes!

DM:  “Discounting that, you have resurrected no one who has died of natural causes.”

Cleric:  “Then how have I cheated death?  It’s natural and even more inevitable than you are.  I’ve only postponed it so that…”  What was that number again, anyway, four-twenty-two?

DM:  Uh, I think so, yeah; close enough.

Cleric:  “…So that four hundred twenty-two people could have a chance to finish lives that would otherwise have been cut short.  I firmly maintain my not-guilty plea.”  And I put my hands on my hips and glare up at it.

DM:  It glares right back at you.  “Your arguments are based on a technicality.”

Cleric:  *Defiantly.* “No.  Your charges are based on a technicality.  My clients will all die.  Eventually.  I cannot change that.”

DM:  *Dice roll.*  …Hm.  *Dice roll.  Snicker.*  Well, then.

Cleric:  What?

DM:  “Your answers have satisfied my programming.  You are free to go.  But be aware:  You actions will be monitored intently.”  *Laughs.* I hate you.  That was supposed to be the start of a fight that I was going to get the rest of the party in on for our next session.  You just broke how I was supposed to introduce you all.  …Who the hell even tries to out-lawyer a god-damned Inevitable in their own area of expertise, anyway…?

anonymous asked:

I don'tknow if you already answered this but do you have any anime recommandation?

i’ve never been asked for anime recommendations in my inbox before usually i just recommend some to ppl that message me or my friends irl but IM ACTUALLY REALLY EXCITED TO DO THISSS -

okay here are 15 anime i’ll recommend to you anonie :)

these are in no specific order 


1: Boku No Hero Academia - character develoment? check. Non-neglecting of side characters? check. Bomb af graphics? double check. Loveable best boy? yep yup. Great fandom that collectively hates Mineta? yesh

2: Diamond no Ace - sports anime that actually shows the struggles of different teams? yesss. epic scenes that are so great it could be a meta anime but it still retains the basic functions of baseball? huehue double yes. the mc is such a ball of energy and genuinely wants to be the Ace and has so much development as a character that you honestly start wanting him to get that number? yes yes yes yes yes

3: Nichijou - one of the greatest work anime has produced. really its so effing hilarious and it really pinpoints the things everybody does in everyday life. like flip a police officer for mistakenly confiscating your boys love manga. accidentally stabbing your thumb with a mechanical pencil, the struggles of ordering at Starbucks or even..

Originally posted by leonardotaku

yeah.. ordinary life ha

4: Magi - a smol baby boy tryna bring peace to the world? check. fucking strong girl that can beat any kind of wild beast there is? heck yeah! magic? yup. loads of backstory that actually makes sense and relates to the arcs? checkity check. villiains that really arent villains and good guys that truly are the bad guys? ho boi yessss. a magical recorder? you got it. also the graphics are great

5: Mob Psycho 100 - another smol baby boy just tryna navigate middle school. blessed with amazing psychic powers but powerless in terms of popularity and friendships. truly such a great anime that teaches a lot of moral stuff and has A M A Z I N G fight scenes. our boy mob is such a freaking god and the art style is very different but so expressive 10/10 would recommend

6: Danshi Koukousei no Nichijou - [Daily Lives of High School Boys] like nichijou, this is another anime that is at the height of comedy gold. every episode is such meme worthy. the main protag really isnt the main protagonist, so many puns, great side characters, and i cant express how much of a feel good anime this is

7: Bakemono no Ko - okay this is a movie. and when i say this is such a fascinating movie, i mean it. this really smol boy gets adopted by a bear after he runs from home. this big bad bear™ is actually so pure and best dad. the uncles are great and so punny i cant. okay, they also have some really epic sword fights.. i really cant explain this movie without giving spoilers lmao but go watch it if you want, you wont regret it

8: Hunter x Hunter - young fisher-boy and young assassin-boy walk into a hunter exam together, who survives? friendship.. and the newly acquired dads they found along the way [honestly go watch it, i was skeptical at first but i never loved anything more in my life] also the arcs are so monumental, really great plot and friendship!!

9: Yuri On Ice!!! - edgy ice skating and gay couples that reaffirm what love is? check. little smol bean yurio tryna act all mighty and tough? yep. amazing soundtrack? heck yeahh! great characters that in no way hate on homosexuals? you got it. amazing graphics? best boys? well dang, you got it!

10: Shokugeki no Soma - food. food. food wars. great scenes that have food giving you orgasms? basically a sports anime but about food? great mc that really deserves all the love he gets. when they tie a bandana on their forehead, shit is about to get started. food. food. food wars.

11: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood - as i write this, i cry. this was so good and i was wary of watching it bc there was/is so much hype around it but alas IT WAS SOO GOOD I CANT. like two brothers? amazing morals? the fact that nothing is as it seems? kickass female characters. alchemy. the hype is real with this one, but its so worth it and i 10/10 would lower you down FMA hell.

12: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! - [also known as Reborn!] i found this by mistake and my life really hasnt been the same. mafia story. first few eps are just comedic and really dont tell you jack shit about the storm thats coming afterwards. holy heck, a main character that set standards for how to demolish your enemies? friendship! fight scenes that make you wanna fite anyone? so many powers that actually make sense? checkity check. friendship!!

13: Bungou Stray Dogs - hidden powers that main character doesnt know about? check. good dad dazai. another mafia story. a mafia boy tryna kill the mc because of his powers and dazai has become mc’s dad instead of his [okay i’m trolling lmao] but really this is a great mafia anime. theories. villainous characters that have been blackmailed into being bad.. really it has it all

14: Haikyuu!! - small chibi boy just wants to play volleyball in peace. “i can jump™” meets skyscraper black-haired blue-eyed god who rules the court. [trollingg] but honestly, this has to be one of the most accurate sports anime i’ve watched. spiky main and side characters that are completely adorable and its kinda hard not to get sucked in, but you will

15: Kono Subarashii Sekai ni Shukufuku wo! - gamer dude dies [by mistake] and on his way to the afterlife, he’s given a chance by a goddess to go to another world and defeat the demon king. grants him the possibility of taking any one thing to this new world, my guy picks the goddess [fukin dead] and whoops there ya go lmaoo. but no honestly, its great and funny and the explosion/action scenes are beyond E P I C. also best girl, Megumin, is there so you should def check it out


— obviously these recommended anime are in my opinion. im not some anime god but thanks anon for giving me a reason to finally do this *finger hearts* —

Office-mate who loves CNN but doesn't understand how televisions work is destroyed by that which she loves most.

I work in a small office with only 6 people. The way the office is broken up I share my office with another person, so we’re essentially facing each other. It’s away from the other offices, so we’re kind of left to our own devices. I’ve been working here for about three years now, and have always gotten along with my office-mate. My old office-mate left to start a family, so I’ve been alone for a bit before they hired Marge.

Marge is what you’d find if you googled “worst office-mate.” She brings in smelly food she eats at her desk, she plays loud music in our shared space (even after being asked not to), she fights with the boss on every little thing, she’s nosy (always asking me where I’ve been when I walk back into the office, and I’ve literally caught her listening in at the bosses door). She asks me invasive questions, and when I finally snapped at her to mind her own business she acted like I’d personally assaulted her.

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fourth of july: fahc edition

(bc i’m slightly tipsy and there’s already ppl shooting fireworks outside)
(under a read more bc i have no control  and must be stopped)

jack

  • wears bright red lipstick and blue eyeshadow bc she’s feelin p a t r i o ti c
  • is in charge of the food
  • her apron says “quit bitchin’ in my kitchen”
  • actually the kitchen is strictly off-limits while she’s cooking get the fuck outta here
  • seriously one time she threw a knife at ryan’s head when he tried to grab a potato chip
  • goes all out for the fourth of july y’all. we’re talking buttery corn on the cob, fresh guac, fried green tomatoes, salted watermelon, mac n cheese, apple pie mmmmMMMMM
  • follows an old patillo family recipe to make the best goddamn potato salad this side of the mississippi river holy shit like,,, it’s so fucking good god bless the patillos
  • uses a secret ingredient in her potato salad that she’ll take to her grave don’t even bother asking buddy she’ll laugh in your face
  • (jeremy thinks it’s white wine)
  • (gavin thinks its cocaine)

geoff

  • wears leather sandals and american flag-printed board shorts why geoffrey why
  • is in charge of drinks
  • obviously
  • imports single malt whisky straight from scotland
  • then steals 2 dozen crates of bud light from the 24/7 supermarket down the street
  • geoff there’s literally only 15 people at this party do you really need 10 bottles of tequila
  • likes making mixed drinks for people who didn’t order them
  • his “signature drink” is called The Firecracker™
  • everyone’s pretty sure it’s just fireball and actual gasoline
  • always ends up ranting about how fucked up the american founding fathers were
  • “guys thomas jefferson was such a dick i fucking hate that dude”
  • “we know geoff”

ryan

  • shifts into Ultimate Dad Mode™ on the fourth of july bless his heart
  • unironically wears USA t-shirts from old navy and a backwards baseball cap
  • it makes him look * c o o l *
  • is in charge of the grill
  • looks way too comfortable using a meat cleaver and a butcher knife
  • ryan that’s just *beef* in those burgers right?
  • has an AK-47 strapped to his back just in case they come
  • “just in case who comes?”
  • “they”
  • likes to sing 80’s rock music while grilling 
  • there’s a video of him belting jessie’s girl into his spatula
  • ryan is not aware of this video
  • it’s saved on jack’s laptop (encrypted and password protected)

jeremy

  • is in charge of the music
  • turns into the biggest Dudebro™ on the fourth
  • yells ‘merica before doing anything
  • uses red white n blue spray-on hair color and completely fucks up the bathroom sink with it
  • his playlist is called “'freedom muthafukaaaas”
  • songs include: bruce springsteen’s “born to run”, warrant’s “cherry pie”, ELO’s “mr. blue sky” and abba’s “dancing queen”
  • insists on being called DJ rimmy tim for the whole day
  • keeps trying to get people to play pool volleyball with him
  • drinks anything geoff puts in front of him
  • he and jack end up trying to parachute from the cargobob into the pool
  • “jerEMY NO”

michael

  • is in charge of the fireworks
  • doesn’t buy fireworks tho are you kidding me fuck that this isn’t amateur hour sON
  • spends all of april/may developing homemade fireworks with trevor and matt
  • has almost lost multiple fingers while testing their creations
  • also nearly blinded himself while trying to modify a bottle rocket
  • tbh this is the most dangerous thing he does all year and he’s a Professional Criminal for a living
  • created a firework that explodes in bright red brocades and makes the air smell like roses
  • he calls it “the lindsay”
  • every year there’s an illegal massive fireworks show on mt. haan that gets set up anonymously and is electronically detonated
  • everyone knows its the fakes but literally every person in town comes out to watch it and it’s basically a los santos tradition so the LSPD are like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 
  • they get a tupperware of potato salad for their troubles
  • (it’s the best goddamn potato salad they’ve ever had)

gavin

  • likes to remind everyone that’s he’s british and that he’s offended by their patriotism
  • “congrats on your bad healthcare and shite chocolate”
  • paints a lil british flag on his cheek bc fuck u guys
  • but then #brexit rip
  • has the most insane shit delivered to the penthouse for Funsies™
  • last year it was a massive bouncy castle that blocked off the whole street
  • the year before he brought five thousand water ballons filled with ice, blood, flour, and some weird goo he somehow smuggled in from china
  • jeremy almost had to go to the hospital
  • geoff was not a fan
  • literally no one has a clue what gavin has planned for this year and they’re not sure if they should be terrified or excited
  • (it’s actually a lads vs gents nerf battle with tranquilizer-loaded darts)
  • (geoff will not be a fan)

the fakes

  • just bc it’s a national holiday doesn’t mean they’re not heisting
  • jack wears his gaudiest hawaiian print
  • ryan switches his black face paint for blue (sometimes he’ll even add stars)
  • the lads load up on homemade grenades and bombs that sparkle and whizz as they detonate
  • they hit every major bank and big business within the city limits as the los santos sky explodes with color
  • on july 5th, planned parenthood, greenpeace, the national immigration law center, the trevor project, the ACLU and countless other NGOs get their annual summer donation - always impressive, always anonymous
  • bc the fakes know that they’re country is no longer truly the land of the free
  • and they may be criminals but goddamnit they’ll do their best to fix it
  • bc who better than america’s most wanted can give america what it needs the most?
my what a guy, gaston!

okay so i know i already did one of these for beauty and the beast (for fuck’s sake shana write about some new fairytales why are you like this) but i listened to sam tsui’s cover of a tale as old as time and OH BOY, OH MY HONEY OH MY DARLING

okay, so in the very early stages of the original beauty and the beast, gaston was an aristocrat. that eventually got scrapped, but oh what if it didn’t

so say gaston is the son of someone very high up in the royalty chain, someone who’s parents are important enough that he spends an awful lot of time at the castle? and our prince adam isn’t really down with this whole ~being a prince~ thing, he’s a brat, like so many other kids are brats (but these kids don’t get turned into beasts by random witches, like i’m sorry but i’ll never not think that beast didn’t get the short end of the stick there) and so he spends the least about of time possible parading about with a crown on his head. he likes going outside, like riding his horses and playing in the woods, and all sorts of other things that make his parents shake their heads and despair at the inability to have another child, because their son is a small disaster.

and here comes gaston, who’s older and more long suffering. gaston in naturally dramatic, okay, he likes being flashy and fun and loud, all the things the son of a noble shouldn’t be. so by the point he meets adam he’s listened to his parents, folded himself up nice and tight into this quiet boy who just doesn’t want any trouble. adam loves trouble. if he can’t find it, he invents it.

so he grabs onto gaston like glue, and gaston is irritated, but he’s the prince, he can’t say anything or his parents will kill him. so he lets adam keep dragging him out horseback riding and hunting and rock climbing and all sorts of things little noble boys aren’t supposed to do. they spare, and no matter that gaston is bigger and older he never wins, adam always ends up pinning him to the ground with his arm to his throat and he’d more irritated about it if the prince didn’t look so delighted every time he won. adam loves all the animals that he’s not interested in eating, and gaston tries to point out that it’s a little weird how thrilled adam is to take down a deer when two minute later he’s trying to entice a wolf to come closer so he can pet it, and also holy shit adam that’s a wolf what’s wrong with you

adam loves his staff, the people who do their best to reign in this little terror but don’t try that hard, because the thing about bratty kids is that they’re rarely brats all the time, as an adult you swing between wanting to strangle them and finding them so adorable and charming your chest hurts. so mrs. potts indulges him, likes the way he’s only ever really patient while he’s playing with her son chip when he’s snuck into the kitchen to beg her for some extra cookies. lumiere and cogsworth are his tutors and spend more time arguing with each other than teaching him, and he’s delighted by that.

and so adam is this loud, exuberant little prince who slowly but surely picks at gaston’s barrier until gaston almost feels like himself again, and adam doesn’t do what his parents did. adam doesn’t make fun of him for how much he cares about his hair, about how he hates dirt under his fingernails. as long as gaston keeps following him into dangerous situations, adam doesn’t care about much of anything, and gaston loves him for it.

and gaston’s on the cusp of teenagerhood when he realizes he loves adam, the prince, this is awful and he immediately has a panic attack over it, he’s to be lord and adam is to be king, it will never work, oh, and adam probably doesn’t like boys, and – oh my god, all those schoolyard taunts about him being gay we’re right this is a nightmare.

he’d freak out about this properly and probably go charging to the castle to confess his love in true embarrassing 12 year old fashion – except his parents set him down, pale, and say, “they’re gone, they’re all gone, the king and queen were found dead and the prince is gone and now a monster lives in the castle.” and of course gaston takes this to the most logical conclusion – a beast broke into the castle, killed the love of his young life, and now he’s claimed the castle for his own.

this is gaston’s defining moment okay, this is the point where he snaps and never goes back. he rebels against his parents, refuses to fit himself back into the mold of the perfect son, tries to live his life like adam would have wanted him to. that means being exactly who he is and damn the consequences. he focuses on his hair and his clothes and his looks, he pursues hunting because it reminds him of adam, because so much of their friendship took place in the woods, covered in mud and laughing. he pursues hunting because, one day, when he’s the very best he’s going to go the castle and kill the beast that killed adam. and his parents are furious about all of this and they disown him in favor of his young siblings and he just. doesn’t give a shit.

so he moves to the town, and everyone loves him, of course they love him. he’s loud and arrogant, but – he’s not cruel. he’s beautiful and brings in more pelts and meat than any other hunter and gaston doesn’t miss the days of being a young lordling in the slightest. but girls keep throwing themselves at him and he doesn’t know how to keep refusing either outing himself or hurting their feelings, so he goes to belle. belle, who is every inch as pretty he is. belle, who is smart and quiet and kind in a reserved sort of way. if there’s anyone who won’t judge him, it’s her.

so he goes to her, and tells her the truth – that he only likes men, that he’s not interested in advertising the fact, and asks her to pretend to be his lady. and belle, kind sweet belle, agrees. she does it out of sense of duty to help those in need, because nothing she knows of gaston says she will enjoy this. but she’s proven wrong, because gaston was raised to be a lord of course he’s educated, just because he doesn’t really care about any of that stuff doesn’t mean he doesn’t know it. and belle can speak with him like she can no other, because gaston has more formal education than anyone else in this village. and to their surprise, gaston and belle become friends, become the closest of friends, and gaston hasn’t known this closeness since adam, although it’s different because he loves belle but he’s not in love with belle.

and one day belle and her father are out traveling and sudden snowstorm forces them into the castle. belle knows there’s some sort of monster that supposedly lives there, but it’s either the castle for refuge or dying of cold outside, so into the castle they go. and instead of a hideous monster there’s adam, the beast. he’s rude and gruff and calls them twelve kinds of idiots for getting caught in a snowstorm in the first place. he offers them a room before sulking back into his study, watching the last petal threaten to the fall from the rose.

the castle is so excited to have guests, to have a young girl that may be their saving grace, and beast doesn’t know how to tell them that he likes girls well enough, but the only person he’s ever loved is a prickly, stuffy little boy who used to wring his hands together whenever they went looking for wolves. the storm doesn’t abate, and belle and her father stay. beast likes belle, likes how much she loves his library and the courteous way she speaks to all his staff even tho they’re all furniture, and he wishes he could love her, she is a woman that deserves to be loved. but he can’t.

back in the village, gaston has had it. the beast took adam from him, and he wont allow that thing to take belle. he rallies the villagers and goes marching to the castle, determined to save belle and her father, determined to kill the thing that killed adam.

so they storm the castle and he and the beast fight. belle and her father rush forward to stop the rest of the angry village men, and belle is screaming at gaston to stop, that things aren’t as they seem. but he’s mad with bloodlust, with revenge, and he’s about to take the beast’s head off with his axe when the beast lunges and pushes him to the ground, pinning him with an arm to his throat. and the muscle memory is so sudden and visceral that gaston freezes and stares at the snarling beast and whispers, “adam?”

and the beast blinks, and pulls back a little, and goes …… “gaston!?”

literally everyone is so confused, but they only get more confused when gaston throws himself at the beast and there’s a rush of magic as the last petal falls and the spell is broken. gaston sees beast for who he really is, loves him wholly and completely in the way only children can, and the curse is broken.

so gaston goes from having the beast in his arms to having a man, and he kisses him, outing himself in front of the whole village and not caring in the slightest. “i’ve missed you,” adam says, reaching out a hand to cup gaston’s cheek.

his staff are people again, and the cloud of darkness that had fallen over the castle is lifted. the old and irritable third cousin twice removed who’d been running the country is more than happy to hand it back over to adam, so happy in fact that he doesn’t question anything about this incredibly weird situation.

gaston and adam were children with a children’s love, but as adam gets his castle and kingdom up and running again, gaston is there. and their love deepens, and strengthens, and becomes something much more real and true than it ever was before. and gaston knows he can’t keep this, that adam will need to take a queen and gaston won’t be able to be with him after that.

except no one told adam that, because he goes to belle who just, never left the castle because she likes it and it likes her and her two favorite people are here. and also they’ll pry her from that library over her dead body. “hey,” adam says, “so, i’m kind of the king now.”

“i noticed,” belle answers, and doesn’t look up from her book.

adam considers closing it, but also considers that he likes his hands attached to his wrists. “want to get married? we’ll need to produce an heir or two, but beyond that you’ll get all the books you want and a whole country to boss around.” one of the things adam had quickly learned was that belle loved bossing people around.

belle doesn’t look up from her book. he hadn’t honestly expected her too. “okay. I’m dating plumette. im going to keep doing that.”

“nice,” he says, because plumette is a lot prettier now that she isn’t a feather duster.

so adam find gaston and tells him that he’s marrying belle, and gaston’s whole heart breaks but it makes sense, adam and belle make sense together, and he wishes he could make himself hate either of them but he can’t because he loves them both. but then adam is talking about how belle will have the rooms next to theirs, and gaston should probably stop paying rent for his house in the village, he lives in a literal palace, come on now.

and gaston figures out that adam is planning to stay with him, that belle is his wife and queen in name only and and gaston will continue to be the one in his heart and in his bed. adam is talking about how they all really need to sit down and do something about the redistribution of tax revenue, and they should probably do it before the wedding because otherwise their subjects will only show up to throw fruit at them. gaston cuts him off by pressing his king and love of his life against the wall and kissing him breathless.

cogsworth and lumiere walk by and pause mid-argument to wolf whistle at them before continuing on their way. gaston and adam end up having to hold each other up as they laugh so hard they can’t breath.

and everyone lives happily ever after.


read more of my retold fairytales here

This morning I was thinking about the LGBT+ community I know vs the LGBT+ community now, and something dawned on me. The LGBT+ community doesn’t respect its predecessors. Gay culture has changed drastically over the last 10 years, and I’m okay with us moving forward naturally with what people within the community naturally want - I’m not okay with us shitting on the past, erasing the past, degrading the past, as we do so.

The LGBT+ flag is topical so I’m going to start there. During the aids crisis, we never gave up. People were faced with something that was killing them on a biological level, and they said “Fuck you”. People had “going away” parties after being diagnosed where they would go out and drink and drink and drink, not going home for days, they would kill themselves because they didn’t want to let aids have the last say - they said “Fuck you, I control my life, I control when I die”. Other people, even some of the first to be diagnosed while they were still giving out numbers with each new diagnosis, are still alive today - they said “Fuck you, I’m going to take everything I can and do everything I can, you are not taking me, bitch”. We added a black line for those people. And now people think that those struggles don’t deserve that colour any more, that instead of using the pride flags they already have for the intersection of race and LGBT+ issues, they can appropriate all of those deaths.

Punks and rockers in the 70s and 80s stood by gay people, we shared our fashion sense and our flare for the dramatic, bright hair colours and clothes that stood out. Punks and rockers got beaten up for being presumed gay. The leather and spikes in the metal community were popularized because gay artists in that community wore those things on stage - it came from gay culture. And now those very bands and communities have to constantly remind people that they’re left-leaning, that they’re for gay rights, that they’re against systems of power - because somewhere down the line someone decided that gay culture was now flower crowns and unicorns, and that the other subcultures have been against us all along.

Drag queens and leather and revealing clothes are constantly pictured online with captions saying that they’re inappropriate at Pride. Fucking Pride - a protest, a party, a celebration of all of the wild and wonderful aspects that we incorporated into our culture when we said “We’re outside of the norm and so are you, so lets rock it together”. They were our body guards, they took the brunt of the insults and violence while those who were afraid hung back and looked “normal”. They are our history. They are the communities we stood with because we all understood what it was like to be ostracized and judged, and we accepted each other, and we became stronger together. Pride is a protest and a party in one, it’s not a safe space, it was never supposed to be - and if you’re okay with a woman wearing nothing but a lacy thong and marching at a Free The Nipple protest with “Slut” on her chest in permanent marker, as I see so many of the people who decry Pride outfits celebrating, it’s a giant fucking double standard to not be okay with revealing outfits at Pride. If you’re okay with someone dressed as a slutty unicorn at a Slut Walk, then why aren’t you okay with leather short shorts and a leash at Pride?

And alcohol!? People complaining about the alcohol in the gay community are so utterly unaware of our history. Gay bars were our first real “Safe Spaces”, Harvey Milk and other incredible gay activists rose to popularity partially because of their incredible personalities, their parties, their fun and kind nature, how they welcomed people in and offered them drinks and fun and friendship with no question. Our history is full to the brim with proof that being fun and exciting and rebellious was what drew people to us.

And the one that grinds my gears the most is slurs - is how everyone is so quick to be offended by words. That’s not what the gay community has ever stood for. The film “Pride” said it best when it said that when we’re called a name, we take it and we run with it. The “Pits and Perverts” concert happened because the newspapers called us perverts and we said “That’s catchy”. You can’t take away people’s power by giving that word all of the power and then saying that only bad people can use it, only people that hate you can use it - because now the word means “I hate you, I have power over you, you disgust me” - you take their power by making the word meaningless, by taking the word and going “ours now”. That was one of the staples of the LGBT+ community, a motto that we all lived by. But now people talk about how those words have “always been used to oppress us”, as if that never happened.

Y'all act like you want the world to think that LGBT+ people are pastel coloured, young, innocent, harmless angels - we’re rebels, we bring the fun, we bring the energy, we fight to the death and we’ve won over and over and over again; we wear our hair big and bright, we wear our labels on our chest, not because we want to ~normalize~ and ~raise awareness~ but because we’re daring the world to fucking try it, because we’re saying to the homophobes “I’m not scared of you” and we’re taking their power and their words. This modern LGBT+ community isn’t doing that, it’s screaming “Think of the children!” like the conservatives of old, it’s insisting that we’re quaint, middle class, and “just like you”, instead of “Fuck you we don’t have to conform”. It’s becoming what we fought, it’s turning on its own members, past and present, for engaging in parts of our culture and our history.

~ Vape

If Attack on Titan was in the style of “The Office”

Eren: *gets to work two hours before everyone else*

“HAHA those cowards. If they were real soldiers then they would be here early like me!” 

*falls asleep*

*wakes up as everyone is going home and realizes he slept through the entire work day* 

“DAMMIT!” 

*explains to Mikasa and Armin that it was the fault of the titans” 

Mikasa: *glares angrily at Eren flirting with Levi*

“There’s no one here that I hate. However, if a certain individual in the survey corps were to suddenly catch fire and I was the only one who had a bucket of water…I’d drink the water.” 

*smiles evilly at Levi* 

Armin: *chaos erupting behind him*

“In my opinion, do I think I am smarter than everyone else?”

 *turns around to see everyone being dumb and building on fire*

“I would say it’s more of a fact.”

Jean: *staring at Marco* 

“Who do I think is the hottest in the trainee corps?”

 *shot of Marco doing something so unbelievably adorable and Jean blushing* 

“Yeah…I’d have to say me.” 

Marco: *smiling into the camera looking all cute*

“I know I said I’d wait till marriage but Jean told me that God can’t see in the dark.”

 *blushes*

Reiner: *looking at Connie doing something stupid*

“Connie is the Survey Corps idiot. No one really knows how he is still alive.”

Bert: *looks anxiously into the camera*

“So umm….do you guys like….always record us…..even when we are having private conversations?” 

*shot of Bert and Reiner and Annie talking about being Titans* 

“Because ummm…..if you do…..that’s not cool bro.” 

Annie: *rolling her eyes*

“Look I’m here for two reasons and two reasons only. One, to get me a piece of that blonde booty over there 

*shot of Armin holding back Eren from punching Jean* 

and two, to murder everyone in their sleep.”

Sasha: *looking blankly into the camera and smiling*

“Every once in a while they make me murder a giant naked person. At first I was opposed to it but then I started noticing that every time I kill one they feed me. So here I am.”

Connie: *wearing a pink toupee* 

“Reiner said pink really brings out my eyes” 

*Reiner laughing his ass off in the back* 

“I think he’s right cause everyone in the trainee corps won’t stop staring at me.”

*everyone in the back rolling on the floor crying of laughter* 

Erwin: *on the topic of Levi*

“I’m not really sure what Levi does around here. He kind of just showed up and started killing Titans. I remember that day very clearly because my eyebrows were the fleekiest they have ever been. Did I say that right? Fleekiest? Fleeky? Fleek? I’m not sure, I heard a child say it once so I thought I’d sprinkle it into my vocabulary to make me sound hipper.” 

Levi: *sleeping in a chair* *talking in his sleep*

“Yeah……oh yeah….you’re so dirty. You’re a dirty little cabinet aren’t you?” 

*wakes up and sees camera* 

“Do you really have to record me while I sleep? Don’t you guys ever have to take a shit?” 

Hanji: *takes off her glasses* 

“Oh these things? They’re fake. I wear them to make myself look smarter. They actually impair my vision quite severely. But you have to pick and choose your battles, am I right?” 

*points finger guns at camera and winks* 

Moblit: *Hanji causes a science experiment to explode causing Moblit to lose his eyebrows*

“Honestly, at this point, I’m not even mad at her. I’m just mad at myself.”

Squad Levi: *Gunther, Eld, and Oluo wrapping each other in scotch tape* *Petra shaking her head in disapproval*

Petra- “I used to partake in their shenanigans until one day I realized I wasn’t 6 years old.” 


(I wish I could draw these but I cannot draw) *cries* 

dating peter parker would include...

dedicated to my harrison bestie anon in hopes it makes them smile :) also yes it’s really fuckin long i’m sorry i just love peter parker and have a lot of feelings

  • you actually hate to tell the story of how you two met because it’s mortifiying oh mygod
  • peter, however, loves to watch u blush about it even though it was only really embarrassing when it happened
  • taking the subway to school like every other day, you obviously had spent too many hours on the internet so u were tired as hell 
  • so tired you couldn’t grab the pole in time when the subway stopped
  • and you in an ungraceful manner, tripped, stumbled and fell
  • into his lap
  • his l a p 
  • you still get red cheeks when remember just how embarrassing it was
  • oh my god! i c-can’t believe that- i-i, i’m so so sorry- h-holy shit–
  • peter did find it extremely awkward but your mortified and blushing red face was so much more adorable 
  • n-no, it’s fine– d-do you want my seat?
  • o-oh no, it’s alright. i’d just like to crawl into a hole somewhere. sudden amnesia works too.
  • AND BOY
  • a cute girl with wit and oh my is that a nerdy shirt????
  • from them on, you had his entire heart 
  • yes i will totally be writing a full on imagine for this
  • you guys weren’t friends for long if u know what i mean 
  • like you had already face planted into his lap so you skipped most of the awkward interactions
  • you were kinda like ‘ah what the hell’ 
  • you did it while you guys were walking home together, like usual
  • hey peter, can you hold this for me?
  • yeah?” 
  • and you just grabbed his hand, grinning at him with wink 
  • cue the cutest blushing from peter 
  • peter goddamn nearly had a heart attack but couldn’t stop smiling the entire walk home 
  • he was really sad when he reached your building 
  • but then you stood on ur tippy toes and kissed him on the cheek so he wasn’t that sad
  • eventually kisses on the cheeks became kisses on the lips & it wasn’t official but you two just knew
  • let’s be real, peter is the worlds biggest dork so movie marathons are so common
  • i mean everything– star wars, back to the future, jurassic park, like man you name it 
  • and if u were a nerd too, then oH boy he would just be in a constant state of heart eyes 
  • he would be anyways but extra heart eyes if u geek out
  • c’mon pete, hurry that cute lil ass up! it’s rogue one!!
  • oh my god, please marry me right now.
  • you guys definitely try to quote movies as much as possible
  • i love you” ”i know *intense blushing* diD YOU JUST–
  • he has a such soft spot for when you guys marathon disney movies not that he tells you that
  • something about you lighting up & singing along makes him go !!!!!!! inside
  • no you two never perform disney duet songs together never ever have you done that why do u ask
  • (your favourite one to perform is hakuna matata because its a goddamn classic and peter gets so into it)
  • (breaking free from hsm is a close second because damn can peter hit those notes when he really tries)
  • peter parker is such an admirer like you dont even know
  • he could stare at you for hours and its pretty much what gets him through the day tbh
  • in fact, he has all your birthmarks and freckles committed to memory because shes so pretty i can’t deal with this
  • he blushes SO MUCH when you catch him staring
  • but lets be real, you were staring at him too
  • he blushed even more when he found that out because oh my fucking god she was staring at me do i look weird is there something on my face
  • but when you’re like no you goof, i’m admiring youu get 
  • BLUSHING STUTTERING STAMMERING PETER PARKER
  • he just never stops blushing 
  • he! would! try! so! hard! at everything 4 you
  • baking? hell yeah he’ll bake for u
  • singing? eh he’ll give it a go (but only for you)  
  • dancing? he hates it but he loves to watch u laugh and smile with him so he does it anyways (even if he sucks)
  • speaking of dancing
  • peter loves it when u dance
  • especially when you stay over and he wakes up to you dancing around the kitchen or his room 
  • his favourite is catching you off guard when you’re grooving to some 80′s song
  • babe– cutting himself off with his own laughter, i don’t think that’s dancing.
  • he loves to tease you about your funky dancing because seeing his girl blushing is like his second favourite thing
  • (the first being your smile because it completely melts his insides and everything is better when you smile at him)
  • you also love it when he’s teasing because all you have is pout and suddenly peter’s showering you in kisses 
  • peter is such a sucker for kisses
  • actually he’s such a hopeless romantic & lover of cliches like
  • constantly bringing you flowers he finds on nightly patrols? check 
  • stopping so you two can share a cutesy kiss in the rain? check 
  • dumb pick up lines that still make you laugh? check 
  • tbh you both do pickup lines
  • hey, hey y/n, are you the square root of -1? because you can’t be real 
  • are you kIDDING– NO I’M NOT BLUSHING AT YOUR DUMB PICK UP LINE GO AWAY PARKER
  • he just giggles at you from the bed
  • except when you do it, its a different story
  • hey hey hey, peter 
  • hmm?” 
  • are you related to yoda? because yodalicious.
  • peter just falls off the bed 
  • you don’t even ask if he’s alright, you just cut straight to laughing at his reaction
  • s-shut up! this isn’t because of your pick up line!! i was startled! 
  • even though he’s trying to hide his face in a pillow, you can see his pink cheeks
  • sure, peter, sure. 
  • aunt may is both a blessing and a curse to both of you 
  • because she spills BOTH OF YOUR SECRETS
  • like you can’t ramble to her about peter because she will tell him everything
  • with you in the same room 
  • oh peter, you’re wearing that shirt? i know y/n loves it, she was talking just the other day about how she find it so hot– 
  • “MAY HE DOESN’T NEED TO KNOW”
  • peter secretly really wants to know what you said about him 
  • but aunt may does it to peter too and he hates it
  • “seriously y/n, you should hear the things he says about you, i swear he’s turned into some lovesick–”
  • “nO MAY SHH YOU CAN STOP NOW”
  • makeout sessions ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
  • you both l o v e them 
  • funnily enough, peter is the one who usually starts them 
  • hey y/n, you’ve got something on your face, let me just– *kisses you all over you face*
  • because he’s more than ahead in his classes, ‘study dates’ really means makeout not that you mind though  
  • peter loves kisses everywhere
  • forehead kisses
  • nose kisses
  • shoulder kisses
  • eyelid kisses
  • back of the hand kisses
  • all the kisses
  • his absolute favourite kiss is the one he receives from you in the morning when you’ve stayed over
  • he’ll play with your hair softly and you’ll yawn & stretch and catch him gazing at you 
  • and you just smile and lean up and kiss him 
  • it never fails to make peters heart stop and when you pull away he just goes nooooooooooooo and pouts till you kiss him again 
  • it’s especially hard when you have to leave or part ways after school because peter turns into a needy lil boy
  • one more kiss! one more! 
  • peter you’ve said that seven times now!! 
  • you literally have to push his away, giggling and grinning, because otherwise he’s going to be late 
  • i swear to god parker, it’s only one class! 
  • and of course you know about him being spidey
  • you actually found out by accident 
  • you were searching thru his closest for something to wear when you stumbled across it 
  • tbh you thought it was a really dedicated costume at first
  • so you put it on and it was so fucking baggy man
  • hey peter! look at me, i’m the spider man! thwip thwip! 
  • except it was the real thing so 
  • y-y/n!! where did you find that??? 
  • don’t worry, i’ll keep your spider-man obsession a secret, peter.
  • but when you accidentally web peter’s hand to the wall, you figure out this suit is the real deal 
  • holy shit!! holy shit! you– you’re, this is the real, oh my god, you’re the spider-man!  
  • peter just panics because you’ve webbed him to the wall and he can’t actually do anything
  • no! no i’m not!
  • you freak out for like another minute before you gather your senses enough 
  • peter parker, do not play with me right now- are you spider-man?
  • would you believe me if i said it was a very detailed halloween costume?
  • after cutting him free, you squeezed him into the tightest hug because you were so goddamn proud of him 
  • but also because oh my god how many times had he risked his life and had you not known???? 
  • oh my god, this is so wicked i can’t believe you’re spider-man–
  • you can’t tell anyone! 
  • shh, you know i wouldn’t but holy god! you have to tell me everything
  • you’re not mad i didn’t tell you?” 
  • pfft, i’ll only be mad if you don’t tell me now.
  • yes i also want to make this an imagine
  • yes, you’re the one who patches him up which always ends in cuddles
  • basically you get to shower peter in constant love and affection because he would do that and more for you 
  • he’s just the perfect boyfriend??? 
  • i want a peter parker
Our Little Secret-Part Five

Summary: You and Dean figure out how to tell Sam. Later the two of you try something that Dean hasn’t really done

SERIES MASTERLIST

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Square Filled/Kink: Face Fucking for @spnkinkbingo

Word Count: 4300

Warnings: Smut, fingering, oral, rough sex, squirting, language

A/N: I’m sorry. I was going to wait until tomorrow afternoon to post this, but I couldn’t help myself. Thank you so much for reading. I absolutely love writing this series and sharing it with you. Any feedback is always appreciated.



“You want to tell Sam?” He’s got that crease on his forehead, “I thought you didn’t want him to know.”

You smile, stretching your neck, kissing right below his ear, “But you do.”

“You’re okay with it?” He’s confused, “You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “I’m sure.”

You’re not sure, not at all, but you kinda need to take the chance.

Dean pulls you up, pressing his lips against yours, kissing you deeply before breaking away.

You giggle, “I guess it will be easier too, we won’t have to come up with excuses for getting a different room.”

Keep reading

Bring It On | 01

Park Jimin | Comedy | Fluff | Slight Angst | BIO!au | cheerleader!jimin

❝You had long since gotten over your crush on your co captain slash roommate, Jimin. Other than the occasional wandering hand that maybe wasn’t so appropriate for someone who was supposed to be supporting you while you were in the air, or congratulatory smack on the ass after practice he was uninterested. Very, very, very much uninterested.❞

 

You blink down at your lunch tray, a scathing look marring your face when you note the mushed grool on your plate is probably leftovers from yesterday. You eye the cafeteria lady warily when she plops another serving on your tray, expression deadpan—you take longer to move along in line and she thinks she’s doing you a favor by serving you seconds.

“Greta,” you grin pleasantly, inching the tray back in her direction, “you’re doing amazing. Love the enthusiasm, that apron really suits you. However, I pay eight thousand dollars in college tuition and this looks like the wet food I give my dog. Do you think instead of this I could—”

She interrupts you with a wet slap of brown mush being added onto your already growing pile.

Wonderful,” you sigh, when you note the brown spackle on your uniform top, “can I just get a kale salad instead?”

It was for the best, anyway, you chide yourself. The fact that your school served lunch that was about as edible as aluminum foil made dieting easier. The reminder of your diet, however makes you groan as you reach the condiment station, chancing a smell at the ranch dressing in the clear plastic bowl. When you deem it safe enough to consume, you begin working on the croutons—

“Would you like some salad with your dressing?” Someone snorts from behind you.

You lift a wary gaze to Park Jimin, who’s leaning against the counter, working on organizing his grilled chicken. He cocks a brow at you as though he knows you’re glaring, even without looking.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure so early in the morning?”

Jimin rolls his eyes at you, nudging you out of the way so he can dress his own salad.

“Just think of me as your fairy godmother—I get a tingling sensation whenever you start to double carb.” He snorts, snatching the bread roll off your your tray and shoving you in the direction of your regular lunch table.

“It’s wheat.” You say indignantly, snatching it back and shoving it in your mouth.

“Just because wheat bread induces a slightly lower glycemic response doesn’t mean it’s better for you.” He spouts off automatically and you debate whether or not you can smash your head in before he starts scolding, “There’s no inherently good bread, just one that’s gonna make your ass slightly fatter as opposed to one that’s processed whole wheat.”

Apparently there was no avoiding his scolding this afternoon.

“For the record my mother says I have a wonderful figure,” you inform.

Jimin blinks at you before shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth, “Tell your mom to base for you then.”

“You’re in a fine mood this morning,” you scoff, before sending a teasing smile at your co captain, “I take it the freshman pitched their new uniform idea to you?”

Jimins jaw clenches at the thought, rubbing his aching temples, “I’m all for being a whore. I love the concept, I think it’s great. But I hate the bandage skirt idea. And if we’re going to look like hookers, we should at least be Marilyn Monroe and for like presidents and shit. Not Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”

“Julia Roberts slander aside,” you glare, “I agree with you. They’re tacky and besides, regionals in three weeks—changing uniforms now would just be complicated, not to mention we have to worry about finding another base now that Hoseok’s graduating.”

“God, don’t fucking remind me, I already have a headache thinking about auditions. But also, I’m so happy you agree which is why I took the liberty of telling them to go fuck themselves.” Jimin grins cheerfully as you stab a pice of kale.

“What did I say about making decisions on my behalf?” You pin him with an annoyed look before throwing your fork down with a clank, “we’re a team Jimin, we make decisions together.”

“Yes and it’s because we’re a team that I know you hate all the things I do.” He explains.

“This is why they don’t respect me.” You say, “at least not as much as they do you.”

“They don’t respect me, they’re scared of me. It’s good for our image. Like a good cop, bad cop kind of thing.” He argues before slicing a piece of his grilled chicken on putting it on your plate, “And will you eat? You wouldn’t have to starve yourself if you made better choices. For example a vinaigrette instead of what is essentially going to be an extra three pounds on your ass.”

You blink at him rapidly before sighing, rising to your feet. “Whatever, Jimin.”

“Hey,” he calls out behind you but you’re already halfway across the cafeteria, equal parts irritable and unamused by Jimins lax behavior. You stop when a hand grips your wrist, “okay jeez I’m sorry. I’m kidding. Quit being a brat and eat your lunch. I said try to drop three pounds not starve yourself.”

“Wow, what a sincere apology,” you snort and attempt to walk away again but he’s gripping you by the waist, far too close for comfort with his front pressed against your back and plush lips at your ear.

This is new. Very new. 

Your roommate was a lot of things, touchy was not one of them. If anything, he prided himself on his personal space and was constantly shoving you out of his room, out of his bed, out of the fucking bathroom

“I’m sorry alright?” He mutters and you close your eyes because he was confusing. So confusing it hurt. “I didn’t mean it. I had one too many bowls of bitch flakes today—either that or you’re PMSi—fucking ow.”

Jimin rubs his side where you elbowed before glaring at you.

“Apology not accepted.” You sniff when he turns you in his arms and there was a time when you would have been ecstatic to be in this position but those feelings have long since fled.

He only tugs you closer with a grin when you don’t fight off his hold. Jimin raises a brow at something over your shoulder and you frown.

“Don’t look now but your baby boyfriend is on his way over,” Jimin whispers before retracting his arms.

“My baby what?” You frown and it only takes you a full second to realize who he’s talking about because before long Jeon Jungkook is crowding your space.

“Hey,” he calls, an arm winding its way around your waist before you’re rolling your eyes at Jimin’s teasing smirk. “What’s going on here?”

“Jungkook,” you greet, before extracting yourself from his hold, “What’s up?”

“I could say the same,” he mutters before nodding at Jimin, “We have a problem here?”

Jimin cringes at his cheesy line before pinning him with a bored look, “Actually we—”

“Me and Jimin were going over cheer stuff. Did you need something?” You interrupt.

“Going over cheer stuff,” Jungkook says back slowly. He stares at Jimin for a second too long before returning his gaze to you, “I just came to check on my girlfriend. I have a game today, you didn’t wish me good luck.”

You close your eyes with a wince when Jimin snorts. A warm palm on your shoulder has you opening them only to glare at the all too mirthful boy in front of you, “Let him down easy, champ.”

With a wave and wink in Jungkook’s direction, Jimin is bounding back towards the lunch table and leaving you with a migraine.

Jungkook is holding your hand and swinging it. You’re not quite sure when that happened.

“Look, Jungkook,” you begin, clearing your throat.

“Oh no.” He sighs.

“What?”

“Nothing is ever good when a girl starts out with ‘look, Jungkook'—my mom, my sister, the dean of students.” He shrugs.

“So you know what’s coming next then?” You ask hopefully.

“Are you gonna put me on academic probation?” He offers and when you shake your head he stares on, “Not gonna lie, I’m drawing a blank here. I just know whatever you’re saying is not gonna be good.”

All hope dies.

“We’re not dating.” You say gently, tugging your hand out of his. It was too big and overly warm.

Jungkook frowns, confusion wrinkling his brow and for a second you almost feel bad for him, that is until he opens his mouth.

“But you let me…” He chances a look over his shoulder before leaning into whisper harshly, “you let me finger you.”

And therein lies your problem.

You knew better—you truly did—than to let the otherwise inexperienced freshman go further than second base but in your defense you were drunk. You were drunk and he was willing and he was fucking Jeon Jungkook. You were a good person but not that good.

“Yes, Jungkook I did but that doesn’t mean I want to date you.” You explain gently.

“But why would you let me touch you if you didn’t want to date me?” He implores and you blink at him because there was no way in hell someone was this naive.

“Because I was horny and you were there.” You say honestly and to your relief there isn’t a look of pain etched on his features only mild confusion mixed in with annoyance. “Now that we’ve got that settled I have a cheer thing I have to—”

“Wait, wait!” He calls out, gripping your wrist, “but what about me?”

You sigh because no matter how innocent or inexperienced Jeon Jungkook seemed he was still a guy at the end of the day, and they all wanted one thing.

“Fine.” You rolls your eyes, “I’ll suck you off after practice but I got to get goin—”

“No. Not that,” he flushes, “I meant what about… what if I wanted to date you?”

You stare at Jungkook a beat and it’s your turn to be surprised because of all the things you expected to happen today that was the last.

“Do you…” You gulp, eyeing him warily, “have feelings for me?”

“No.” He says honestly and you deflate before glaring at him.

“Oh thank God,” you breathe before smacking his arm, “don’t go around saying shit like that. Jesus. Anyway, why would you want to go on a date with me if you don’t like me either? Does that make sense to you?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at you before tugging you off to an empty corner of the cafeteria, he lowers his voice even though no ones close enough to hear. “Okay don’t look right away but do you see those guys sitting at that table next to the doo—I said don’t look!”

“Ow!” You whine, rubbing at your scalp after he gives your ponytail a hard yank. “Okay, jeez what about them?”

“They’re on my basketball team.” He informs unhelpfully and you give him a bored look.

“You don’t say?” You gasp, a hand shooting up to cover your mouth, “I couldn’t tell from their uniforms and the guy on the table, spinning the basketball, staring at us.”

Jungkook goes quiet again and you feel a headache coming on because what he made up for in looks and general athleticism he lacked in brain cells.

“Are you being sarcastic?” He frowns and what was the point if all your jabs went right over his head?

Instead, you opt for exasperation, pressing a hand to your aching temple. “What about your basketball team, Jungkook?”

“They think I’m a virgin.”

“Well are you a virgin?” You retort, thinking back to the almost painfully awful finger fuck he gifted you with last weekend.

“That’s besides the point,” he waves you off before gripping your shoulders, “I’m in college now. And a guy. Being a virgin is weird and if they find out I haven’t gone all the way I’m toast.”

“So tell them you boned me and let me get on with my life. I give you my permission, young padawan.” You give him a reassuring smack on the arm before walking away, only to be tugged back by your uniform shirt. “What now?”

“That would be great, except they’ll keep hounding me to have more sex which I’m not opposed to I just… I’m not ready yet you know?”

You blink at him, “I don’t know. I’m a slut.”

“Well pretend you get it and date me. Just for a couple weeks.” He says, “If I have a girlfriend they’ll just assume I’m getting laid on the regular and leave me alone.”

“Okay, but what about me? I actually enjoy getting laid on the regular and no offense but getting fingered by you is about as enjoyable as going to the gynecologist.” You sigh and he winces.

“Noted.” He adds dryly before cocking a brow at you, “So are you up for it?”

No!” you throw your hands up, “besides dating you could give people the wrong impression. That I’m into things like—”

“Monogamy?”

Virgins.” You correct with a roll of your eyes. “Sorry Kook, you’re just gonna have to figure shit out on yo—”

“Noona please,” he pleads desperately, hand gripping your upper arm and in all honesty you’re not a hard person to sway but Jungkook is still persistent in his pursuit. He clasps both hands under his chin before dropping to his knees desperately. He’s whining and loudly.

Loud enough to garner attention.

“Will you get up?” You hiss, “People are staring!”

“Will you say yes?” He juts his lower lip out.

“No.” You glare, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Then I’m not getting up.” He pouts.

“Because I care,” you snort, “Camp out here if you want. My answers the st—”

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease,” he whines and you grit your teeth in annoyance, “I’ll owe you big.”

“You’ll owe me?” You cock a brow.

“Yes,” he says desperately, “I’ll do anything.”

Anything?” You ponder and Jungkook’s stomach turns when you openly give him the once over.

“I… shit… yeah, anything.” He sighs.


Jimin doesn’t ask you what’s wrong and you don’t expect him to—you only bang things louder until he’s sighing from his spot on his bed, pausing the game he’s playing to turn to look at you.

“Is something wrong?”

He looks put out, annoyed. You don’t care.

Everything’s wrong.” You mutter, stripping off your uniform and throwing it in the dirty clothes.

You have half a mind to remember that you were still in Jimin’s room but it didn’t matter anyway, you and Jimin had long since passed the initial crush stage of your friendship slash roommate agreement—well at least you had, you were almost entirely positive Jimin felt nothing save for mild irritation for you on a good day. That coupled with the fact that he was very much gay set your worries at ease.

“Be more specific?” He sighs, disinterested.

You pause in rummaging through his clothes long enough to narrow your eyes at him, “I hate boys.”

“Good. More for me.” He retorts instantly, shooting you a warning glare when you pause on one of his good t shirts, “I’m wearing that tomorrow, the sweatshirt you’re looking for is in the back.”

You don’t even shoot him a so much as a thank you as you shimmy out of your sports bra, with your back turned to him and tug his hoodie over head. When you’re settled and warm you shoot a mischievous smile at Jimin who’s still glaring at you before—

“Don’t you—” he cut himself off with a curse when you dive under his covers anyway. Jimin seethes quietly as you nestle yourself beneath his sheets, “You know you have your own room right?”

“Don’t you miss me?” You whine before snuggling closer, much to his annoyance, he opts to pinch your side instead of shoving you off the bed completely. 

“No. Now move over if you want to stay in here.” he scoffs.

“You know I had a really shitty day,” you glare at his side profile and he doesn’t answer, only picks up the controller to un pause whatever he was playing. “it would be nice if you could be even a little bit supportive.”

“I didn’t sign up for emotional support I signed up for half on utilities and you not leaving your pad wrappers on the bathroom floor.” He mutters, still invested in his tv show.

“Jimin.”

“Don’t use that voice, I hate it.” He grunts.

“What voice?” You pout.

“You know, the voice.” He sighs, sending you a glance from the corner of his eye, “The one you use on guys to get what you want. Your baby voice, it’s annoying.”

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment and you feign indifference because Jimin never means to be hurtful, he’s only talking to you like he would any other friend… but you didn’t want to be any other friend? You weren’t sure anymore, about how you felt about him. Things were blurred because while you were sure things bordered on platonic and that mostly had to do with the fact that he was so immune to your feminine wiles (snort), you also knew you didn’t want to be treated like one of the guys or like any other fucking girl on the team, that he mostly couldn’t stand.

You wanted to be special. Special in what way, you weren’t entirely sure.

“You’re a dick.” You retort and he tears his gaze away from the screen long enough to cock a brow at you.

“You knew this upon signing the lease.” He snorts and you don’t reply because really, what was there to say. It was well known, Jimin was in fact an asshole—he didn’t like kick puppies or make orphans cry (intentionally) or anything but he was curt and to the point and you didn’t get your feelings hurt easily which is why things worked between the two of you. “Hey, did you get that playlist I sent you?”

You pause in scrolling through your phone to turn to him, “Yeah actually I did. They’re all kind of slow, did you want to use them for routine?”

Jimins hands slow on the controller but he doesn’t divert his attention this time, only hums his disagreement, “Nah, just new songs I stumbled upon I thought you’d dig. They’re good right?”

“Yeah,” you nod eagerly, “I added them to my library actually.”

“Cool.” Jimin grumbles, clearly done with the conversation and you roll your eyes.

You go on like that for a few moments because Jimins content with silence, prefers it actually over what he calls your ‘incessant chattering’ it’s one of many things he finds annoying about you—from what you can tell. He’s left almost every group chat you’re in.

You talk too much,” he says desperately after one night, a long night of drinking with your team and you’re still sending pictures. He’s in your room and his hairs disheveled and he’s shirtless and he looks delectable and annoyed and seconds away from strangling you.

“Sorry.” You squeak, tugging the blankets up past your chin and he narrows his eyes at you. You can barely make him out in your doorway, but the light from the hallway dances against the planes of chest, making you gulp.

“No you’re not,” he grumbles, throat raspy from liquor and sleep, he sticks a hand out expectantly, “hand it over.”

“W-what?” You push hair back from your face nervously and Jimin adjusts his basketball shorts before sauntering over to your bed.

“Your phone. I’m confiscating it. You’re fucking with my sleep schedule and I have a nine am tomorrow,” Jimin mutters, snatching your iPhone from you. He sends you a menacing glare all while fiddling with the device, “You don’t get to bitch if I drop you on your ass during practice. Now move in.”

“Huh?” Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline at that and Jimin is sending you a bland look, a hand pressed to his aching temple like talking to you is causing him physical pain. But he doesn’t respond only yanks the blanket from under you, making you all too aware of your lack of clothing when the bed dips beneath his weight.

“Move. In.” He enunciates, “I’m drunk as hell, tired as hell, and not up for the walk to my room.”

“It’s across the hall.” You remind him and in the darkness of your bedroom, with the pale moonlight dancing in and reflecting off the single chain Jimin always wears you’re overwhelmed by him. By his scent, his body, his withering stare when he presses a finger to your forehead.

“Sleep now.” He grumbles.

And maybe that was when it truly started, when the both of you settled down after that long night of drinking, him telling you to sleep on your stomach so you don’t choke on your own vomit, and you staring on dumbly, the beginnings of an on again off again infatuation for your roommate, your friend, that never really went away—no matter how unwilling a participant you were.

There’s a brief period of time (that you’ve made a conscious effort to block out) that you openly pined for him. There was no stumbling into the kitchen a mess, with morning breath that threatened to singe his eyebrows off if you struck up a conversation. No. If Jimin had class at nine am, you were up, with your lashes curled and your favorite tinted BB cream by seven forty five—you looked fresh faced, what a boy who hadn’t spent nearly five plus years of his life around girls with bedazzled vaginas would consider natural. But alas—

Jimin is a hairsbreadth from your face and you thank every god you could think of you woke up at the ass crack of dawn to wash your hair. His eyes narrow and he worries his lower lip before pulling back.

“You didn’t blend your neck,” he comments before grabbing his hoodie next to you and bidding you adieu.

For the first month of your crush you spend every morning in the kitchen (after of course closely inspecting your makeup under several different lightings), making him breakfast, green smoothies even. But Jimin is a health nut, on top of being an obsessive perfectionist. He preps his food the night before, likes all of his ducks in a row when he starts his morning at eight fifteen on the dot. His expression the first time you offer him turkey bacon and eggs is a cocktail of mild disgust and disinterest. 

“I’m counting macros this week.” He explains, before transferring his smoothie from the blender into a thermos. 

You tongue at your cheek before taking a bite of the ridiculously chewy meat. 

Your first Valentine’s Day with Jimin is always a memorable one, for sheer comedic relief if nothing else.

The two of you are regularly inseparable at practice, and some of it had to do with you being a fly and him base, your base, but a lot of it was because he didn’t… mesh well with others. He was too blunt, too rough around the edges and he took cheer seriously. The times Jimin spoke about himself were far and in-between, but you distantly remember him telling you that before he started doing cheer he did gymnastics competitively for a good chunk of his life. That explained a lot of things, honestly. Why he was so by the book, strict about everything from uniforms to ponytails, to diets—of all the boys on the squad, he was maybe the only one who gave a shit about stuff like that. It was because of all of that that he made a good co captain, and if it weren’t for his inability to compromise and just generally stomach other peoples presence, you were positive he would have beat you out for the captain position.

It also explained why he was so strong. The guy regularly worked out, yeah but he was like, open the pickle jar strong. And then there was his food intake which was crazy, all things considered, because he ate a lot to build muscle but it was all so healthy you couldn’t imagine anyone enjoying it. You wouldn’t lie, the first time Jimin lifted you during auditions your heart nearly beat out of your chest because he did it all with one arm and caught you effortlessly against his chest.

“Here,” Jimin says, handing you a tumbler filled with purple liquid at the end of practice, he hitches his gym bag up higher on his shoulder and waits for you to accept it. “I brought you a smoothie from home.”

“Thanks, what is it?” You ask, sniffing it and ignoring the glare Jimin shoots your way. It doesn’t smell offensive and you take a hesitant sip, “Actually this is good.”

He nods with a sheepish shrug and you try to tamp down the zoo of butterflies in your chest that are telling you that this is a sign, that Park Jimin making you a smoothie is his weird, male, health nut equivalent of chocolates and a confession. Your heart seems to gain wings at the prospect and then he ruins it like he always does because he’s Jimin and he ruins things. That’s his job title and occupation, Park Jimin, The Ruiner.

“It’s a detox smoothie actually,” he says when you’re already on your second mouthful, cheeks puffed with the berry concoction. Jimin was a lot of things, tactless was one of them, “I thought it would help with… you know. Plus, I do strength training in my free time but this partnership only works if you keep up your end. You should come to the gym with me in the mornings, you’re up anyway with like a full face of makeu—”

You shove the tumbler back at his chest before sucking your teeth at him, “I’m gonna go shower and then head home. See you there.”

Jimin frowns at your retreating figure by glancing down at the smoothie, he takes a sip for curiosity’s sake. “What’s her problem?”

The first time you see Jimin kissing a boy there’s no tell tale signs of arousal that all of mainstream media swore by. Only pure unadulterated jealousy tinged with sadness. You watch the way Jimin cups the boys jaw, the way his own jaw works in time with his lips. It’s not rushed or heated, filled with passion like a lover—it’s slow and a little timid, like the first kiss at the end of a date and your stomach turns.

You watch the two boys pull away, Jimin looking the softest you’ve ever seen. You wondered what it felt like to be the recipient of that gaze, but it wasn’t a side of him you were meant to see, or a moment meant for you, and you reminded yourself that you were intruding. You leave the hallway too quickly that day and maybe sulk for longer than was necessary in the weeks to follow, cry even, because your nineteen year old self is (gag) heartbroken. It won’t be another month of stilted conversation and failed attempts at avoidance until you’ve pushed the feeling to the back of your brain and manage to find a middle ground in your relationship with him.

“If you return my shirt with boob sweat I’m gonna use it to smother you in your sleep.” Jimin reminds and you scoff. “That’s my good shirt.”

“That was one time.” You shoot up indignantly and immediately regret it because with regionals nearing you were doing conditioning instead of regular routines and every muscle in your body was on fire from today’s practice.

Jimin sighs before getting to his knees and giving you a hard look, “Did you—”

“Before you ask whatever you’re gonna ask I came straight here after practice, showered and went to class I haven’t had time to do anything else.” You interrupt and Jimin rolls his eyes at you.

“Lay back,” he orders and you oblige immediately because as strict as Jimin was as far as diet and exercise was concerned, he considered you an extension of himself. His partner. And if you weren’t in good shape you were holding him back which is why he ignores your yells of protest when he pushes back on the leg you have pressed to his chest.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You say, slapping his arm so he would let up, “That’s enough.”

“Shut up.” He says mildly, pushing until your knee was nestled between both your chests. He slaps the back of your calf and you glare, “Straighten this.”

“Fuck off.” You grit out.

He cocks a brow at you and you regret your words when he adds more pressure.

“Jimin, fuuuuck,” you whine earnestly, a hand pressed to his chest because the pain was getting to be too much and he didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon. He doesn’t recline right away, and you peek an eye open in time to see a look cross his face before he guides your leg back slowly with a nod.

“How’s your knee doing?” He murmurs, and you lean your head back against the pillow when he begins feeling up your leg.

As much as you hated to admit it, Jimin’s extensive athletic career as well as his major proved to be useful on more than one occasion in your house. As an athlete you could appreciate a roommate who was studying physical therapy, especially when it came to the massage aspect.

“It’s been fine these last few weeks,” you shrug, “hasn’t been giving me any problems.”

“Start wearing your knee brace again.” He says when he places one hand on your knee and the other on your ankle. You narrow your eyes when he moves it side to side, “Your knees been giving out at practice. I’ll kick your ass if you dislocate it before regionals.”

“Noted.” You scoff, but it’s more of a gasp when Jimin’s hands are on your hips, barely under his hoodie and skimming the skin just above your spandex. His face is passive all the while, nudging you up the bed.

“Move up, I’m gonna check your range of motion.” He explains and Jimin is all work and no fun. Sometimes you wonder how he can remain so disinterested, clinical at times like this when you feel like your whole body is on fire under his touch.

Your leg is back up in the air and Jimin is moving it in hesitant circles, up and down, side to side and you close your eyes, trying not to gasp everytime he presses your legs closed and tiny shockwaves of pleasure shoot straight to your clit. He never presses down long enough to evoke a reaction but you lay back and relax, enjoying what little intimacy you’re allowed with him.

Everything is good, it’s nice, relaxing, his touch is enough to leave you horny, you’ll probably have to rub one out in your room later but not enough to have you cumming right then and there. Your eyes shoot open when you feel him move in, his hand no longer resting on your leg but on the innermost of your thigh, too high up as he presses down.

Too, too high up. Too, too close to the apex of your thighs.

You cock a brow and in typical Jimin fashion he stares on blandly, cool as a cucumber sitting between your legs and forcing them open.

“Buy me a drink first?” You say a little breathlessly, and joking is your way of coping with this, him, your ego, which was sorely bruised because Park Jimin was more than immune to you and that sucked royally.

“Get your head out of the gutter.” He says, but he does it with a small smile, “If you did this on your own I wouldn’t have to do it for you.”

“It’s not as fun on my own.” You comment.

“It never is.” He teases back and it’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to flirting with him. You simultaneously revel in it and chide yourself for still being so head over hills for someone who sees you as no more than an object in his everyday life, like a lamp or the refrigerator. You’d notice if it were gone but you could always get a new refrigerator.

“Okay, I think I’m good for the night! Thanks I’ll just go back to my room an—”

A crack sounds in the room, echoing off his walls, so loud it nearly drowns out the strangled noise you make in your throat. You blink up at Jimin, equal parts shocked and turned on when he rubs the sensitive skin of your thigh, the innermost part he just slapped. Welts form under his soft palm but he doesn’t look the tiniest bit sorry, in fact, he doesn’t look anything. His expression is just as calm as collected as it was when you had first walked in. It leaves you confused, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Did you just…” You gesture between your thighs and Jimin patiently waits for you to continue as he closes your legs back up, letting you know you’re done with at home PT. “Did you just spank me?”

“Take better care of yourself and I won’t have to.” He says softly and you’re searching, searching for something, anything in his face that’ll give you even the slightest idea of what the fuck just happened. But you come up empty, even as he presses on, “Stop skipping lunch to talk to that freshman. Make healthier choices so you don’t have to do extreme diets and stop,” He grips your knee softly before staring up at you, “neglecting your health.”

You nod mutely, when he finishes because there’s nothing else to really say. Jimins been acting weird, very weird these past few days and while every fiber of your being, every natural instinct is telling you ‘he likes you! you love him, offer to suck his dick!’ the rational part of your brain quashes any hope and reminds you how well trying to pursue feelings for your roommate turned out the last time.

“I’m going to bed.” You say dumbly, blinking at him and Jimin nods, not moving to say goodbye or watch you walk out.

You press your back against his door when you leave because Park Jimin would be the death of you, but oh what a way to go.


“Look, I’m sorry okay?” Hoseok sighs, trailing after you as you re-shelf the books you were scanning. Stupid midterm paper. Stupid college.

“Hm, I’m sorry I don’t know what you’re sorry for, unless of course you’re apologizing for interrupting my studying then, I forgive you Hoseok because that’s just the kind of loving, nurturing, sweet captain I am.” You return, back still to the older boy when he rolls his eyes at you, “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“I’m quitting the squad.” Hoseok says with a finality that makes you snort.

“‘Kay. Don’t be late to practice today or I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass you won’t be able to walk much less cheer.” You say sweetly.

“I admit, it’s a bit troublesome,” Hoseok sighs.

You whirl around on him at that, eyes narrowed, “Getting your pubes caught in the sticky part of your pad is a bit troublesome—you quitting the fucking team three weeks before a competition is a lot of fucking troublesome you asshole.”

“First of all ew,” He whines something that sounds dangerously close to your name and you don’t have to turn to know he’s pouting, “Second, you know there’s more to life than cheer! I’m graduating soon and I need to focus on my studies, and start looking into a career.”

“Listen here you little bitch,” you hiss, shoving a finger in his face until Hoseok was going cross eyed, “I can smell the entire bag of marijuana you smoked on your way here. Who put you up to this? Namjoon? I’ll kick your ass, I’ll kick his ass and then whichever one of your dumb friends helped coerce you into ‘lightening your load’ before you graduate. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to.”

“But I want to party,” he pouts and nearly eats his words when your eye twitches, “God, you and Jimin are really a match made in heaven, huh? How are two people that are so tiny, so terrifying?”

“Hoseok, you can’t quit we have regionals and the freshman are giving me a fucking ulcer. Where am I going to find and be able to train a base in three weeks?” You implore, pressing a hand to your aching temple.

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok says and he doesn’t look the least bit sorry. You debate on shoving you foot up his ass for old times sake when he pats you on the shoulder, “You’re a good cheerleader. An even better captain, I know you’ll figure it out.”

“Fuck off,” you glare, shoving a finger in his chest, “if anything weird happens to you this week, just know it’s me cursing you.”

You stand there, with your back pressed against the bookshelf for a good minute, just watching Hoseok’s retreating figure. His shoulders are sagged in relief, like he was just let from under a tremendous weight, one he turned around and perched atop your shoulders.

When you get back to your library table you’re pouting, on the verge of losing your shit in the otherwise dead silent room because why, why did bad things happen to good people? As though you weren’t already stressed from midterms, it was like you had a giant fucking sign on your forehead that said ‘hey, screw me over!’

“What is it now?” Someone hums across from you and you barely have time to register that it’s Nayeon before you’re jutting your lower lip.

And for what it’s worth, Nayeon is a good friend because she stops studying, sets her books and binders and pens aside to focus all of her attention on you. Then she listens, and listens, and listens because it’s only been three days since you’ve seen each other but it seems as though a lot has happened. By the time you’re done debriefing her, she’s staring at you, a frown marring her pretty face and her arms crossed over her chest because—

“You’re a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” she sighs, carding hands through her hair, “Let me just… let me just see if I follow here, Jungkook the freshman, the virgin you let finger you at the party last week, he wants you to deflower him?”

“No, he doesn’t even want sex—can you believe…! He wants me to date him, so worst.” You correct, “Fake date him to get his teammates off his back because he’s fucking twelve apparently and not immune to peer pressure.”

“And your roommate, Jimin, your gay roommate,” she emphasizes the gay part and you glare at her, “you think you’re starting to… feel things for him again?”

“I mean, technically,” you put a hand out to stop her, “the feelings never really went away, but they’ve just been lying dormant like waiting for him or myself to entertain them and Nayeon, the other day, in the cafeteria he hugged me. He back hugged me. Jimin, the same person who made a six year old cry last year, and then kicked his dad’s ass. I want to die.”

“And Hoseok,” she presses a hand to her head, “the drug dealing cheerleader. He quit.”

“He’s not a drug dealer, he just smokes a lot of weed,” you roll your eyes, “his friend, Namjoon, he’s a drug dealer. I’m gonna kick his ass because he convinced Hoseok to quit the fucking team.”

“And… you have regionals in less than a month, correct?”

“Yes. So you see my problem right?” You whine.

“You have multiple problems, most of which I can’t help you with, being in love with your gay roommate ranks at the top of that list,” she sends you a sarcastic look before snapping her fingers at you, “but the Hoseok thing. I know how you can fix that. It’ll be like killing two birds with one stone.”


“This is so… lame.” Jungkook groans and you slap him upside the head before gesturing towards the rest of the squad.

“Team, I’d like you to meet our new base.” You smile tightly before patting a hand on his shoulder, and pulling something from behind your back, “This is Jungkook.”

“What’s that for?” Momo, a second year on the team frowns and you brighten at her question, bringing the glass jar to everyone’s attention.

“This,” you begin, “is negative reinforcement. Anytime he says something rude, stupid, or offensive feel free to let me know and I’ll charge him, all proceeds go towards new uniforms for the team.”

“What happened to Hoseok?”

“Hoseok decided to focus on his studies.” You say and you barely make it through the sentence before someone’s cutting you off with a snort. “Jungkook’s going to be replacing him.”

“That’s such bullshit!” Mina scoffs, “Has he ever even cheered before?”

“No but I have more than two brain cells I’m sure I can figure it out.” Jungkook retorts and you press a hand to your aching temple, resisting the urge to argue his declaration of having even more than one struggling fucking brain cell. 

“Five dollars.” You seethe and Jungkook only challenges your stare for a moment before he’s reaching in his back pocket for his wallet, shoving a bill in. You cock a brow at him. He curses you before putting in another dollar.

“What’s going on over here?”

It’s a natural response, almost second nature by now, the goosebumps, the heat in the pit of your belly, the chill at the base of your spine. You should be a little more put out over the response Jimin evokes, even after all this time but you couldn’t force yourself to care. Instead you sigh.

“Jimin, this is Jungkook. You two have met before. He’s going to be filling in for Hoseok from here on out.” You explain and brace yourself because Jimin is a lot of things. Complacent isn’t one of them. He doesn’t settle for anything short of perfect and one look at Jungkook has him straightening his shoulders and eyeing you like he’s about to throw you out a window.

“Who says?” Jimin challenges and it’s your turn to cock a brow at him, hands planted firmly on your hips.

“Me, the captain.” You shoot back.

“Did he even audition?” Jimin retorts and you roll your eyes at him.

“Audition for what? It isn’t exactly like we have troves of fucking college kids lined up to fill the spot.” You argue.

“You’re cut.” Jimin says, ignoring you and sneering down his nose at Jungkook.

And Jungkook, for all his complaints and the bitch fit he put up the entire way you had dragged him to the field, didn’t take well to being told what to do. Especially by assholes. Correction, especially by assholes in a matching fucking tracksuit.

“Weird. My girlfriend, the captain,” cue audible gasp from over dramatic cheerleaders, “says otherwise.”

You press a hand to your forehead with a visible shudder because where did this guy find his material? So corny.

“Your girlfriend?” Jimin laughs, and turns his head to peer over at the bleachers before raising a brow at you. You squirm under his intense scrutiny, “So you’re dating the kid?”

“I mean… we’re not not dating.” You mutter and yelp when Jungkook pinches your side.

“What does that even mean?” Jimin implores.

“Like, we’re not like boyfriend and girlfriend it’s just like sometimes he waits for me outside my class and we go to see the newest movies and stuff together and maybe he’ll buy me like lunch on the way and like I don’t know kiss me or hold my hand but not like in a boyfriend way, he’s not my boyfriend.” You rush out and when you glance back up the two boys are staring at you incredulously.

“What exactly is your definition of boyfriend—anal? That sounds like maybe the only thing you haven’t done with him.” Jimin rolls his eyes at you when you slap his chest. He could at least act like it hurt.

“So anyway, let’s start practice!” You clear your throat, pushing past both of them and towards the middle of the field, “Pair up and get started on your stretches!”

Jimin and Jungkook glare at each other even after everyone begins stretching, speeding up your already impending headache.

“I don’t like you.” Jimin comments mildly.

Jungkook snorts at that.

“I’m quivering. Your tracksuit really evokes a sense of fear in a guy.” He rolls his eyes before sneering, “You look like Vector from Despicable Me.”

“Okay, that’s enough. I’ve had it with you two and your dick measuring contest.” You hiss, getting in between either of them and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Bet I’d win.” Jungkook sniffs, “Everytime.”

“Yeah?” Jimin tongues at the inside of his cheek, the way he sizes Jungkook up makes the younger boy squirm, “Wanna find out after this?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to argue before closing it again—he does this a few more times before squinting his eyes and cocking his head to the side at the older boy. “That got really gay, really fast.”

Jungkook turns to look at you, pointing a finger at Jimin before, “Is he—”

“Jar, Jungkook.” You exasperate.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t have to.” You hiss.

“Fine, homoerotic, is that the politically correct term?” He sighs and you clench your hands at your sides in an attempt to not strangle him.

Not in front of witness.

“Stop talking.” You put a finger up to silence him and then turn your attention to Jimin, “Let’s start practice, yeah? We can be mature about this?”

“Matures my middle name.” Jimin seethes.


As it is, mature is not Jimin’s fucking middle name, it wasn’t even his stripper name because between the jabs he had been making at Jungkook’s inability to pick up on the workouts as quickly, or the way he would send the younger boy a pointed look whenever he wasn’t as flexible as the other guys on the team you were about five minutes from strangling him.

“Why can’t I be her partner?” Jungkook argues at one point when Jimin immediately grabs your arm for stretches.

“Because you’ll fuck around and throw her back out and then I’ll kill you.” Jimin says politely before yanking you closer to him. His movement is only slightly halted when Jungkook reaches out to grab your other arm and your glancing between the two of them wildly.

“It’s not fucking rocket science I’m sure she can tell me what to do.” Jungkook scoffs, tugging on your arm.

“I’ve been her partner for three fucking years, if you want to look up someone’s skirt do it on your free time or pair up with one of the other freshman on the team, you’re wasting my time.” Jimin grits out.

“Why can’t you pair up with one of the freshman on the team, if you’re so experienced doesn’t it make sense if noona helps me instead of you? I also need some experienced help.” Jungkook enunciates.

“Fine.” Jimin says, letting go of your arm and making you stumble, he cocks a brow at Jungkook, jaw clenched, “get on your back and spread your legs I’m your new partner.”

You and Jungkook stare at each other for a beat before turning to openly gawk at Jimin, who was sporting an expression that told you he was bored with the entire conversation and had been tired of Jungkook five minutes ago.

“Take your pick,” Jimin shrugs, “it’s either one of the freshman or me. Personally, I can stretch you out real good—”

“Okay stop.” You say finally, pressing a hand to either boys chest, you level Jimin with an exasperated expression, one that he pointedly ignores before turning to Jungkook, “I’m going to partner with him today, Jungkook, the other girls are really helpful and if you have any questions you can ask me but I don’t think it’s a good idea to try and deviate from routine. Me and Jimin have been working together for a lot longer and it’ll take both of us to be able to incorporate you into the flow of things. It’s just easier this way.”

Jimin shoots the younger boy a smug look, one you want to smack off his face because despite the rush of butterflies Jimin’s current possessive nature was giving you, you knew it was only because he didn’t want Jungkook around. He didn’t want you injured because you were just a stepping stone towards his real goal which was essentially regionals. It sucked and was kind of dick-ish but you knew this about Jimin from the get go, he had never pretended otherwise or came to you under false pretenses. Jimin had a very one-tracked mind and it was currently stuck on the aforementioned competition your team faced.

“Stop it.” You sigh and Jimin raises a brow at you, “You know what you’re doing. You’re egging him on an—unf.”

You wither him with a glare when he positions you to get a better seat between your legs. “You were saying?”

You were really beginning to hate stretching. Especially with Jimin.

“You’re little games not cute and it’s making things difficult for m—shit.” You curse when he presses back on your leg until one knee was pressed against your shoulder.

“Should we work on your flexibility next?” Jimin asks and he’s obnoxiously close to you, his cool breath fanning over your face, but your focus was on his lips. Your throat goes dry when he licks them, his voice lowering an octave, “Or should we do that later? When we’re alone?”

His questions hits you like a punch to the gut and you’re suddenly choking because that almost sounded flirtatious but when you glance up to try and get a read on Jimin’s expression, he’s impassive, unfazed by his double entendre.

“W-What?” You stammer, shoving at his chest until the pressure on your leg gives. Jimin blinks at you curiously.

“We might not have enough time, we could do it at the apartment?” He offers innocently, only Jimin was about as innocent as Satan and you didn’t buy his raised eyebrows and saucer eyes.

A sigh leaves your lips as yourself down on the grass. Tired. So tired.


“Since this discussion has long since been put off,” you sigh before plopping yourself down on an available seat of grass, “I’m opening the floor. I hear that you all want new uniforms so Jimin and I have decided that we—”

“Not me,” Jimin corrects, “just her. If it were up to me you’d all be wearing trash bags to better suit your shitty performance.”

Jimin and I,” you begin again, “have decided to take suggestions and if you guys are really dead set on this then we can work on fundraising too.”

“The current uniforms are fine, the only ones who want to change it are the freshman!” Kihyun calls from the back, garnering more than a few glares and making Jimin snicker.

“They are not fine. They’re gray.” Eunha chimes in, “Like prison cells. Gray is why prisoners are unhappy.”

“Really? I always thought it was the loss of freedom and free manual labor,” Jimin snorts, ignoring when you slap his chest.

“I think new uniforms would be a good look.” Jungkook says, leaning back to inspect the back of your thighs, “I say we take the hem up an inch… or five.”

“Ten dollars.” You say without blinking and Jungkook sulks.

“What about black uniforms? It’s a flattering color! And we could go with gray for an accent so we don’t stray too far from school colors.”

“That's…” You begin hesitantly, “not a bad idea, actually.”

“Oh! Long sleeve tops! I’ve been looking them up online and they look so much more… Professional? A lot of the top schools are going for long sleeve instead of sleeveless.” Eunha offers.

“Maybe if you all started practicing like a top school, we’ll consider it.” Jimin scoffs and groans echo through out the huddle.

“Draw up a design. Get it approved by us and coach and while you’re at it, start thinking of fundraising ideas to pitch.” You say, rising to your feet and dusting the grass from your bottom, “If it’s good and everything works out maybe we’ll be able to get new uniforms before regionals.”

“Practice is over. Go home and stretch, hydrate and ice if you need to assholes, I’m tired of you coming to me with injuries that could have been avoided.” Jimin seethes and you roll your eyes because you think, for a moment, beneath all the bravado he actually gives a shit about the kids.

It isn’t until you’re hitching your gym bag up your shoulder and swapping your tennis shoes out for slippers that you feel Jungkook’s weight being pressed onto your shoulders.

“Can I help you?” You sigh, shaking off his grip and making him whine.

“What the hell was that?” He glowers, gesturing towards the field and when you stare at him blankly he elaborates, “That practice was worst than literally any training I’ve done for basketball—off season included.”

“Welcome to cheerleading, bitch.” You say, slapping him on the shoulder. You turn to leave, and press fingers to your closed eyes when your movement is halted by his grip on your wrist. “What?”

“Can you… you know… help with that thing you offered earlier?” He coughs, rubbing the back of his neck and you eye him incredulously.

“The blowjob?”

“What? No! No! I meant… the routines. It’s just… that… you know Jimin doesn’t like me too much and the stuff we were going over earlier was complicated but I can’t ask him and I don’t want to look like an idiot I just,” Jungkook sighs and it takes every bit of self control not to snap at him, even going as far as to remind yourself that he was doing you a favor. Even if it was only out of debt. He was trying to help.

Which is why you throw your bag down with an exasperated sigh and slip your shoes back on, “Let’s practice a bit then.”


Somewhere down the line you had just assumed, no, hoped that either of the boys would get used to each other. At least enough to be civil. You didn’t need them to be glued at the foreskin but you did need them to not give you a migraine whenever you were forced to be in the same room as them.

“This is shared space. That means no boyfriends after eleven o’clock,” Jimin hissed after one entire evening of Jungkook lounging on your couch, eating a bag of Cheetohs and getting crumbs everywhere. “So get whatever breed of cockroach this is, out of my living room.”

“He’s not my—”

Jungkook cuts you off with a withering glare, pausing the newest episode of Bones to speak around a mouthful of chips, “Noona, can we go over the routine again this weekend? I think I’m starting to forget. I wouldn’t want to choke on competition day. That would suck.”

His threat was so apparent that Jimin’s lips thin, making a move towards the younger boy, if it weren’t for your grip on his upper arm. “Jeon Jungkook, do you wan—”

“Let’s go to my room.” You interrupt, tugging the younger boy up by the wrist and dragging him the rest of the way.

“What was that for?” Jungkook grumbles, rubbing at his wrist as though it hurt, as if he wasn’t a whole foot taller and a person heavier than you.

“Stop pissing off my roommate.” You demand, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh come on! I’m not even doing anything.” Jungkook glares, “It’s not my fault he has a hard on for you!”

“Trust me when I say he doesn’t,” you snort and glare when Jungkook leans back against your headboard, completely ignoring you, “Besides, all of this was not apart of our deal. Get out of my house.”

“He totally does,” Jungkook argues, disregarding your earlier statement and making himself comfortable under your throw, “I mean, I know girls have a hard time admitting they’re wrong but trust me, you’re wrong about this one. A guy doesn’t get pissed like that unless you’re fucking with a girl he’s into.”

“A normal guy doesn’t,” you correct, “Jimin likes his space. You are intruding on that, in more than one sense.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, but I’m telling you I’m 100% right.” Jungkook shrugs, reaching over


“He’s wrong.” Nayeon sighs, head rested on her palm as you occupy the seat across from her. Cutting into important study time, again. “Well, not entirely wrong.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You crinkle your nose at her and she rolls her eyes.

“He has a hard on for someone, it’s just not you.” Nayeon whispers and your eyes widen.

“No!” You gasp.

“Yes.”

“No!”

Yes.”

“No!”

Yes!” she says, slamming her hands down on the table, and wincing when people several tables over turn to gawk. “I mean think about it. You said Jimins gay right? And that he shows no emotion save for mild disinterest where you’re concerned but suddenly Jeon Jungkook comes along and he’s irritable, territorial, emotional? Jimin is one of those guys, you know?”

“I don’t.” You shake your head, but all your attention is focused on her, you’re hanging on her every word.

“He doesn’t know how to properly express his emotions so he’s lashing out.” she explains slowly.

And it’s like everything suddenly makes sense in the universe, all the pieces click together and your heart feels as though a fat man has just situated himself on your chest. Because, did Jimin really like Jungkook? Were you really going to be forced to sit back and watch him pine for another man, again? Then there was the more jealous part of you, the ugly emotions that lurked beneath the surface that you weren’t ready to address. Thoughts like, do you lie to him? You hadn’t intended on keeping the entire Jungkook thing a secret because if you were being honest with yourself you thought Jimin might try to throw him off the nearest balcony if he knew you weren’t actually dating him. But the more you thought about it the more you wanted to keep it to yourself and it wasn’t exactly lying, was it?

“You’re making the face.” Nayeon sighs.

“What face?” You frown.

“The one you make when you’re having a heated, internal monologue over your skewed moral compass.” She explains.

“I was not…” you lie before plopping your head down in defeat.

You totally were, but Nayeon is polite enough not to call you out on it.


If you had to rank your to do list for the day, telling Jimin that you weren’t actually dating Jungkook so that your roommate who you had been openly pining for for the last three years could swoop in was ranked at the bottom. Right above dying and going to another party with Hoseok’s weird friends. Though if you were being honest with yourself, you’d take death happily at this point, it sounded a whole hell of a lot less painful. Especially when just trying to squeeze yourself into Jimin’s schedule was a pain in the ass.

If he wasn’t on campus, juggling seven classes to complete school on time he was at cheer practice, which wasn’t a prime place to tell him because Jungkook—and if he wasn’t at cheer practice he was at the gym, or asleep and you’d try waking Jimin up exactly once in your entire time knowing him and it was one too many. The guy wasn’t exactly a morning person.

So the gym it was.

“I’m surprised you actually wanted to come.” Jimin muses, fixing your posture before switching out your kettlebell for a heavier one. You try not to glare.

“I figure,” you grunt when he lets go, leaving you to manage the ten pound weight on your own, a small feat when you’ve already been there for thirty minutes and your arms felt like jelly, “you were right. I wouldn’t be a good captain if I started neglecting myself.”

“Hmm..” He hums, and pressed a hand to your exposed belly, “suck this in.”

“So I was thinking,” you pant and Jimin quirks a brow at you.

“A scary prospect.” He murmurs.

“I was thinking,” you begin again, before dropping the weight completely and turning to face him, “about me and Jungkook…. and me and you.”

“Did I say you could stop?” He implores and you roll your eyes at him before switching arms, “What do you and Jungkook have to do with you and me?”

“You’re my roommate.” You grunt, heaving up with all your might. “And you hate him.”

“You’re not wrong about either of those things,” he agrees, “but I’d like to reiterate my first question of what do either of those things have to do with each other?”

“I just…” You try to get the words out but your muscles are on fire and your chest is tight, so instead you throw the weight down with a grunt before turning to him, “Do you like Jungkook?”

“What?” He blinks at you. “You just said yourself I hated him.”

“Yes, okay I know but you know sometimes you say one thing and you mean another.” You shrug.

Jimins expression remains bland, emotionless.

“You’re asking me if I have… feelings for your boyfriend, correct? That’s what we’re getting at here?” Jimin asks bluntly and you shrink under his intense scrutiny.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you say quietly.

A long silence follows your statement, in which Jimin stares at you, just stares and you cow under his gaze because well, it’s Jimin and he’s pretty fucking intimidating. You look anywhere but at him, the airconditioner, the weights, the treadmill, all while still able to feel him boring holes into the side of your head and you wonder maybe, if you had over stepped. If you had spoken too soon because granted you and Jimin were pretty close but clearly not close enough because to this day he still never really talked about the whole liking boys things or even relationships in general. It made you wonder just how many people Jimin had dated, if he had asked them out, if he was softer, sweeter or—

“You’re really dense you know that?” Jimin shakes his head at you before walking over to the weights, leaving you there slack jawed and a little bit annoyed.

“Hey! Wait up!” You call after him, but he doesn’t, unsurprisingly. “I didn’t mean it like that I was only asking because I wanted to tell you that—”

“Did you watch that new clown movie?” Jimin asks suddenly and he nearly gives you whiplash with how quick he’s jumping topics. You open your mouth to argue, to tell him you were only asking so you could tell him you and Jungkook weren’t really dating but the glint in his eye tells you not to tread there. He’s done talking about it, and by effect so are you.

“No I haven’t.” You sigh, your body slumping in defeat.

“Good,” he grunts, pulling down on the weights before turning his attention to you. And you applaud yourself because you don’t keel over at the sight of a sweaty, sleeveless Park Jimin doing reps on the pull down machine, veins bulging and muscles flexed. He sends you a look that tells you he knows exactly what you’re thinking and makes your back straighten indignantly. “Did you hear what I just said?”

“The clown movie.” You repeat proudly, only for Jimin to roll over and flick your forehead.

“Yes genius, but after that,” he sends you a grin, one you’re not used to seeing. He’s teasing you, but it doesn’t annoy you quite as much as usual, “I said let’s go see it. I figure you owe me after that insult you pulled.”

“Wh—” Your mouth opens and the closes before pointing a finger in his direction, “I didn’t mean it like that, if you would just let me explain—”

“Well I took it that way, you’re the only one stupid enough to date that overgrown toddler. And besides, it’s a simple question. Yes or no?” He frowns and you sigh.

“I mean… I don’t really have anything else to do this weekend so..”

“Good to know I’m a last resort.” He snorts and you hide a flush because if only he knew.

And really, if you looked at the entire thing, your situation with Jimin in retrospect it was truly all your fault. Because no matter how much you claim to have both your feelings and heart in check there is no such thing as control when it comes to love. And so you get your hopes, let yourself hope for a moment, with Jungkook’s earlier words replaying like a soft lull. When really you should’ve taken the idiots advice with a grain of salt. Or just not at all.

love letters ❥ peter parker

summary : peter, hopeless romantic that he is, has a cache of love letters, all addressed to you, hidden under his bed and expertly crafted. he never anticipated them being read, or the feelings he has for you being returned.

word count : 3.1k (holy fucking hell i’m sorry)

   Peter couldn’t help it, the way that he was. He was a romantic at a heart, though the awkwardness of him had a tendency to prevail rather than the confident, smooth talking, small part of him that had a desperate desire to reveal itself. Spider-man was as suave as a fifteen year old boy could be; Peter Parker was awkward, inept at participating in normal, human conversation and often incapable of forming coherent sentences more often than not. He wasn’t the best at talking to people besides Ned and Aunt May and- on occasion- Tony Stark. Especially not you. If there was one person that he turned into an absolute bumbling, ridiculous mess around, it was you. He loathed himself for it, sure that you thought that he was weird, annoying, the same way that anyone who didn’t know him assumed he was. 

   Ned, however, continuously insisted that you found Peter to be a sweetheart, like anyone who got to know him well enough did, and that you liked him very much- perhaps more than a friend, though Peter had immediately scoffed at the notion. It was out of the question, downright ludicrous. But, of course, Ned had implanted the idea in Peter’s head, and now the boy’s ever creative mind refused to stop constructing various scenarios in which you were Peter’s girlfriend and he was as happy as he had ever been. 

    While he had been a perfectly charming boyfriend in each and every one of those little dream sequences of his, he was hopelessly lost for words whenever you approached him, unable to even ask what class you had next, let alone reveal the pure adoration he had been holding on to ever since you had been placed beside him in Bio in your freshman year. You had always been the one to stick up for him and smile at him and treat him like a decent human being, and so of course he fell for you, and now he could barely look you in the eye without his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. So, he bottled his feelings and let them out in a way he had never known could help him.

    He wrote. 

    He wrote to you every single day and poured his heart out in every single letter and expressed every thought he knew, in his heart, he would never be able to say out loud. Writing what he felt was so much simpler than saying the words out loud. That was what he assumed, anyhow. He took his pen and placed it down on the paper, starting it the same way he always did. 

   Dear Y/N… As always, the words spilled over from his mind to the paper as if he wasn’t thinking, just writing and writing and writing until he had filled two pages without lifting his curly head from the paper once. When he finally finished, a yawn stretching across his mouth, he noticed Aunt May standing outside his door. He turned his chair around, raising his eyebrows at her. 

   “Writing to that pretty girl again?” She asked, hand on her hip but wearing a knowing, soft grin. Peter, not bothering to feign shock, nodded solemnly and placed his pen down the paper. “You should think about maybe, oh I don’t know, actually giving her one of the letters you’ve written?” 

    Adamantly, Peter shook his head. “May, I could never. You don’t get it.” He swiveled around in the chair, spinning it until he was dizzy. “These letters are embarrassing. They’re practically my whole heart and soul on a piece of paper. She’d scream and run away if she read how I felt about her.” He sighed, placing his elbow on the edge of the desk and resting his cheek in his hand. He stared up at his aunt, still craving her sage advice. May stared back at him thoughtfully. 

   “Well, in my personal experience,” she came over and gave Peter’s shoulder a squeeze, eyeing the letter that was signed with Peter’s name, “girls are suckers for love letters. And you Parker men write the best ones out there. Trust me.” 

   Peter bit his lip. “Yeah, sure, I’m not an awful writer. But, I still can’t give them to her. I just can’t.” Before she could say anything else, he was folding it up and placing it on top of the shelf on his desk next to his books for English. “Uncle Ben was different. He was charming. You know that.” 

    May smiled wistfully. “I do.” 

    “And that’s one thing that I didn’t get from him,” Peter finished, shrugging his shoulders as he stood up from his swivel chair. “It’s fine.” He waved it off. “I’m happy suffering in silence. I’m gonna go to bed. Big English project starts tomorrow. Love you,” he kissed May on the cheek as she left his bedroom, switching the light off in her departure. He stared at the wall once he was situated in bed, mulling the conversation over in his head. Maybe May’s right. Maybe telling Y/N wouldn’t be as bad as I’m thinking. Maybe I’m overreacting. Actually, never mind. She probably hates me. Ugh. Life sucks. 


    That morning, when he arrived in his English class, you were sitting in the seat that had been previously occupied by Ned pretty much every class since the beginning of the school year. Sucking in a breath, Peter took his first step into the classroom. He knew he was a little late to today’s lesson, but he hadn’t realized he was a full fifteen minutes behind schedule. Ned was in the back with Michelle, giving Peter an encouraging thumbs up when he noticed his best friend finally arrive on the scene. Peter gave him the finger. 

   “Mr. Parker, lovely for you to join us!” Ms. Matthews declared when he decided to shove himself through the door, his heart jackhammering away in his chest and making its way up to his throat. He kind of wanted to throw up. 

   “Um, yeah, well, you know, sleep and whatnot- overslept, haha,” he coughed out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. The teacher nodded with faux sympathy, though he could tell she didn’t care that much for his explanation. “I’ll just, um, sit. Down.” 

    “Next to Y/N, please,” She instructed, waving her hand in your direction. “Since you were late and unable to choose your own partner, surprising since usually Ned is so eager to work with you, Y/N offered to be your partner.” The teacher gave you a fond smile, as every teacher did. “She can explain the details of the assignment.” 

    Peter gave her a stiff nod before sliding into his chair, and you noticed how rigid he was as he turned toward you with a slight frown. He seemed extremely upset to be working with you, but you wouldn’t let that get in the way. You liked Peter. Really, truly liked him. He was a sweetie whenever he actually talked to and different than the rest of the guys at Midtown. He was genuine.  

    Giving him your full attention, you beamed at him. “Hey, Peter,” you said cheerfully. He gave you a small smile in return, wringing his hands under the desk. He couldn’t stop fidgeting. Your own smile dropped, which he noticed immediately and felt awful about. “Sorry you didn’t get paired up with Ned,” you continued, taking your books out of your shoulder bag. “I know you would’ve preferred it that way-” 

    “No!” He interrupted quickly, practically slamming his hands down on the desk so hard you jumped in your seat, eyes wide. “Sorry, sorry, I just, um,” he laughed a little, his cheeks burning, “I’m, um, happy to have you as a partner. Really, I am,” he added as an afterthought, just to make sure you knew. 

   Your shoulders relaxed as you looked at him. “You’re not just saying that, right? You seem awfully stiff,” you teased, poking his uncomfortably positioned arm as you quirked a brow. 

    “Do I?” He was practically sweating. 

     “I was just joking, Pete. It’s cute, anyway.” Peter’s eyes, a shade of brown that you had come to think of as warm as honey, went wide and he gaped at you, but you pretended not to notice. “So, for the assignment we have to write a short story based on one of the assigned reading books this year.” 

   She called me cute

   “Shit… I think I forgot all of mine,” you were mumbling, your head practically stuck in your bag. “Did your bring yours, Peter?” 

   Oh my god, she thinks I’m cute. She thinks I’m cute. I’m going to faint

   You snapped your fingers in front of his cherry red face, trying not to appear as amused as you felt. He blinked owlishly, an apologetic half smile, half grimace on his face. He was cute most of the time, but especially when he smiled, even if it was only a forced, awkward one. “Do you have your books, Peter?” You repeated kindly. 

    “Um, sorry, I’ll check,” he answered, embarrassed about his utterly obvious staring that had just occurred. He rummaged around in his backpack before realizing he had forgotten them, as well. He popped back up, curls in disarray as his head brushed against the fabric of his bag. “I forgot them, sorry,” he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. It was kind of adorable.

   “You need to stop apologizing for everything, Pete,” you laughed. “It’s fine. We can get started after school. My place or yours?” You were already packing your things, and before he could think about what he was about to do, he said, “Mine.”   

    “Cool,” you grinned again, a grin that made him want to smile for the rest of his life. “Which one of is doing the writing? Or do you want to split it?” 

    “You’re a, um, fantastic writer,” he told you, having read your submissions to the school newspaper more times than he could count. “If you wanna take over, you can. I can edit and stuff.” 

    “Aw, I’m not that good,” you shook your head abashedly, looking down at your lap. “But thank you, Peter. I’m sure you’re great, too, though. Are you sure you don’t wanna write some of it?”

    “I’m not much of a writer.”


    So, you were in Peter Parker’s room. He was having his third heart attack of the day, and was incredibly grateful that he had managed to keep his wits about him for majority of the day. He had only tripped over his words five times, tripped literally twice, and dropped his Metro card once, but it was fine. You helped him back each time he fell with your usual grace, barely acknowledging his multiple social faux pas and only laughing once because he fell over a small dog- which even he would admit was pretty funny. 

   Still, his palms were sweaty around you and he didn’t know how he was going to survive working so close to you for the next week while the English assignment was occurring. He lead you into his apartment and you noticed that his hands were shaking slightly as he twisted the keys in the lock. You walked into the apartment, the first thing crossing your mind was how cozy and homelike it was. You liked it very much. 

   “It’s really cute in here,” you said, smiling around the room as Peter busied himself with a glass of water. He downed it quickly. “Where’s your aunt?” 

   “Work,” he replied, catching his breath after the gulping down of his water. “Here, let’s go to my room.” He placed his glass of water on the counter and motioned for you to follow him, opening the door to his room and wincing at the mess in there. “It’s a mess, sorry about that.”  

   You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Didn’t I say stop apologizing?” You entered his room as if you had been there many times before, taking your shoes off and setting them by the door. You threw your bag on his bed and took a seat in his swivel chair, and he liked how natural it seemed for you to be in his room. He liked how comfortable you were, sitting there. Something about it made him happy. 

   “Yeah, my bad,” he shrugged. You tilted your head, pointing your finger at him while he raised his hands defensively. “It wasn’t technically an apology!” He took a step out of the room. He was finally being normal around you, he realized delightedly. He would still need more water, though. He could feel his mouth getting dry. “I’m gonna get more water. Want anything?” You shook your head, spinning around in the chair as he left. 

   Your eyes scanned over his desk, taking in every inch of Peter Parker’s life. He had bad books stacked everywhere, his desk was a mess, there were clothes thrown about the room. Star Wars posters, Avengers posters, notes scattered across the desk. You admired the artful messiness of it all. You leaned up to where his English books were, spotting the one you were most interested in and yanking it off the shelf. As you did, a folded piece of paper fluttered down off the shelf, just when Peter was walking back into the room. 

   “I thought you said you weren’t a writer, Pete,” you raised your eyebrows at him, holding the letter in your hand and waving it at him. 

   He almost threw up right there. “Um, I’m not, please give that back,” he reached for it, but you jumped out of the chair, raising the letter high in the air. “Y/N!” He whined, grabbing for it again. “C’mon, please,” he pleaded desperately, pouting at you with such intensity it almost made you want to give it to him. 

    “Can’t I just read a sentence, Peter?” You pushed out your bottom lip, batting your eyelashes at him. 

     He almost gave in. “No, Y/N. Seriously, give it back.” He sounded scared now, upset as well. You pursed your lips, handing it back to him. He was so anxious about you reading it that it dropped on the floor, opening far enough so that you could see your name scrawled across the top in Peter’s defining chicken scratch handwriting. 

    “That says my name, so now I have to read it.” You stood directly in front of Peter, hands pressed together in a pleading motion, the expression on your face so genuinely interested that he had to give it to you. He picked it back up with a lump in his throat and handed it over, scared as ever. But this was what May had advised. Maybe she’d be right. 

    “Dear Y/N,” you read aloud in a loud, terrible accent, glancing back up at Peter as you read the line after that. He was staring down at the floor, preparing himself for what you were going to say when you read the letter, read his heart. You sat in his chair, realizing it’d be better if you didn’t read it so publicly. He sat down on his bed, waiting. 

   Dear Y/N. This is maybe the tenth letter I’ve written to you, and each time I say the same thing, so if one day you are reading this in proper succession, I’m sorry for being so utterly repetitive. You’ll probably never read this, though. And that’s why it’s so easy for me to write. I think you’re the only person to ever truly be interested in me when I’m talking about science. Not even Ned has an attention span that long. But you do. And you don’t know how much I want to thank you for that. You make it really difficult to not like you, to not be in love with you. I think that’s what it is… love. And if I’m not in love with you yet, then I’m certainly falling for you. Who wouldn’t? You’re a wonderful person without trying, you’re a beautiful hurricane, a sunset on the horizon of my bleakest hours, and you make me feel as if I’ve been standing in the sunshine for my entire life. 

   You put the letter down, smoothing it over your lap. You didn’t need to read the rest. That was enough. Peter gazed at you now, the way you’ve yearned to be looked at before, and you shamed yourself for being so blind these past two years. He wasn’t simply just staring. He was looking. Admiring. You slid next to Peter, placing the letter behind you. He moved his hand, curling his fingers around yours tentative as ever. Your free hand grazed up the side of his face, toying with the hair on the back of his neck before resting on his cheek. He shut his eyes. When he opened them again, you were so close that he was able to count each individual eyelash that you had, every single fleck of pure beauty in your deep eyes. 

   “I like you very much, Peter Parker,” you murmured. He felt his heart soar, and then, he felt himself kiss you. It was an out of body experience. He was there, he was the one kissing you, the one who had initiated it, but it felt like he wasn’t. He was up in the clouds, too far lost in the way it felt to run his hands through your hair as he had always dreamed of to notice Aunt May sneaking past the door, overjoyed to see Peter finally with the girl he had been loving in silence for far too long. You pulled away from each other, eyes opening slowly and hesitantly and your lips practically still connected. 

   He wanted to tell her that he adored her, but Aunt May’s voice flowed from the kitchen too loud to overpower his thoughts. “You read her the letter, didn’t you? I told you it’d work! Worked for your Uncle Ben and I was right as I always am!”

   He jumped up from the bed, sticking his head out of the doorway and pressing his finger to his lips. “Maaaayyyy, you’re embarrassing me,” he whispered-yelled, practically whined. “You were right, okay? Thank you, let me go get a girlfriend now. The girlfriend.” She beamed at him, but no one’s smile could shine brighter than Peter’s. 

    He retreated back into the room, and you were clutching the letter in your hands. You looked up at him hopefully. “I was thinking that maybe you could read me the other nine letters. If you’re up for it.” 

    Peter couldn’t possibly say no, taking a page out of his Uncle Ben’s book the way he should have done in the first place as he found the hiding spot for the stack of letters he had been writing for the past few months, sliding them over to you and feeling confident for the first time in a long time.

The player on center ice

A Check Please Soulmate AU


Yes, another one. This is a one-shot.

Warnings: time-travel. Don’t try to make sense of it, it’s just fluff.


Sometimes, your soulmate came back in time to give you a pep-talk. Not that you remembered who they were and what they said, but the feelings remained. 

This story is set during Bitty’s first year. 



Eric was about to quit hockey. He would quit hockey, then quit Samwell altogether, and go back to Georgia his tail between his legs and prove right every single person that said he wasn’t strong enough for such a manly sport.

Jack had chewed him out again- in front of everyone.


(more under the cut)

Keep reading

IT’S JUST BAEKHYUN

♤ bacon
♤ byun baekhyun
♤ fucking adorable
♤ constantly screaming
♤ basic bitch
♤ honestly not even kidding
♤ still using eyeliner
♤ “eyeliner king”
♤ literally introduced himself as “eyeline baekhyun” on happy camp
♤ likes to help kyungsoo harass chanyeol

Originally posted by stayingmintyfresh

♤ a literal baby
♤ footage of him screaming while playing league
♤ mandarin skills oN POINT
♤ fandom can’t take him seriously when they watch mama era videos
♤ “i wonder how hard he tried to not laugh”
♤ smiley smiley
♤ don’t fucking hate on him he’s a baby
♤ baekhyun stans be like bRING IT ON BITCH
♤ sometimes irritates everyone else
♤ just kidding i meant always

Originally posted by ethereal-baek

♤ pervert
♤ no actually
♤ likes shitting when minseok’s showering (naked)
♤ doesn’t give a fuck about “personal space”
♤ basically every asian mom that doesn’t knock on your door when you naked
♤ except he doesn’t leave and does it intentionally????
♤ his insta is fucking arT
♤ also he likes talking about dicks
♤ makes sehun happy about talking about his dick
can will piss you off if you watch him too long

Originally posted by ihopejongdaehasagoodday

♤ v aesthetic beauty
♤ hair colour fucking art every time
♤ killing stans one moan at a time
♤ honestly those vocals are just
♤ do you feel me
♤ do you fEEL ME
♤ moaning man
♤ god why is he so beautiful
♤ he could easily be a main visual if he isn’t idk
♤ a naked visual 

Originally posted by baekthecorgi

♤ yixing 
♤ copies yixing
♤ giggles with yixing
♤ BAEKXING
♤ god you can’t deny baekxing
♤ if you do what type of person are you
♤ like he just looks so happy with yixing like
♤ inspired by yixing to dry hump the stage floor
♤ honestly praise
♤ praise hiM

Originally posted by artistzyx

♤ i think he hung out with yixing so much he became as lost as yixing is
♤ honestly he just gets so spaced out sometimes yknow
♤ def the type to get lost in a walmart lol
♤ “whAT DO YOU MEAN THIS IS THE PERIOD SECTION”
♤ example:
♤ got lost in new york
♤ trusted chanyeol completely
♤ chanyeol trusted gps completely
♤ my tiny puppies are so fucking omg
♤ they’re just so cute crying

Originally posted by dohkyungcutie

♤ literal puppy
♤ i swear he’s just
♤ and chanyeol is the bigger clumsier puppy that gets lost and omg
♤ and jongdae would be the puppy that wouldn’t let any of them go
♤ oh yeah he’s part of the beagle line
♤ it’s called the beagle line for a reason
♤ like um 
♤ they’re puppies
♤ i don’t know what you mean by “you’re seeing things”
♤ i can see them so clearly-

Originally posted by achenlove

♤ probably a pain in the ass
♤ i feel bad for junmyeon and kyungsoo tbh
♤ how to put up with him
♤ the type to walk in on you showering
♤ oh wait a sec
♤ nevermind
♤ honestly i see him breaking things
♤ breaking brooms 
♤ breaking shoes
♤ breaking kyungsoo’s beauty sleep

Originally posted by kyunseu

♤ so playful
♤ so free
♤ doesn’t give a shit
♤ but don’t say bad things about him please
♤ he sees what you say and it makes him sad
♤ so on behalf of the exo community, if you’re gonna say something negative:
♤ fuck off
♤ hOW COULD YOU SAY SUCH A THING ABOUT SUCH AN OMG
♤ HE’S LITERALLY A FUCKING CHILD PUPPY
♤ just stare at him and you’ll fall in love

Originally posted by grinding-on-baek

♤ he’s just so fucking extra
♤ all the time
♤ baek nobody asked you to talk about exo’s dicks
♤ but we thank you anyways because tHANK YOU
♤ exposing exo 26/7
♤ sm probably hates that lol
♤ indulges in being baekhyun
♤ also likes to harass exo whether they like it or not
♤ showering??? what a great bonding time
♤ “baek what are u doing” “shh junmyeon will hear me” “i am junmyeon”