#and i honestly had that same experience with some of my ocs

[evanspam]

DID A SKETCH OF A CHARACTER I LIKE AND I DIDN'T COMPLETELY FUCK HIM UP!!!

[tiktowafel]

do you ever think about how all you used to draw when you were 10 was ponies and that you should still know how to do that, then get an idea and proceed to draw something like these in nearly one sitting and it turns out better than any drawing you've done in the entire past month

sooo anyway does anyone have cutie mark or pony name ideas for them?? lol

[beargyu313]

Heal my desire ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

This fic was heavily inspired by Riki’s mars placement (his whole tropical natal chart really)

⭑.ᐟ╰┈➤ Interpretation: He’s slow to act, but once he's sure, incredibly persistent.

˚.🎀༘⋆ Summary: Your younger brother Sunoo starts attending the same university as you. Along with him comes his childhood best friend Niki. Sparks begin flying between you two. Will you be able to keep your desire in check, or will it consume you instead?

ྀ. 𐙚 ̊ Word count: 12.7k

⋆˚࿔ Tags: fluff, slowburn-ish, eventual smut, brother’s best friend trope, older OC – younger Ni-ki,, smut tags: p in v, fem overstimulation, crying, ass eater Niki (he’s freaky), sexting, phone sex, slight praise kink, spanking, biting, chocking, obsessive sex, fem body worship

⋆˙♪ Playlist: emotional oranges – The Juice: vol. II (something about emotional oranges reminds me SO much of Riki)

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ A/N: first time I’ve written something of this length and emotional depth, feedback is appreciated<3 also planning a sunghoon fic next and I am open to hearing your reqs (it will most likely be an enemies to lovers)

You wouldn’t say going to university was the best thing that has happened to you – although it kind of was. As the oldest in your family, you never got to experience anything just for yourself, was never allowed to go anywhere without Sunoo tagging along.

It never really bothered you, at least until you came to uni. That was when you realized probably for the first time how freeing not looking after somebody actually was. For the first time in your life, you were allowed to put yourself first, not having to worry about anyone else. And it felt good.

You even got lucky with housing – getting an apartment close by your campus. You had your own bedroom and for the first two years a roommate as well. But since they graduated late, you were left with an empty room as the first semester started.

And in a way it was perfect. Because Sunoo got accepted into the same university as you, and since you didn’t currently have a roommate, it was simply assumed he would come to live with you.

You loved your younger brother, really you did. But somehow you couldn’t help but lowkey dislike the idea of him living with you. As soon as the thought hit you, you felt guilty, selfish. But as the day of his arrival grew closer, the feeling of resentment grew.

You couldn’t help it, even though you tried rationalizing with yourself – you lived with him before and it was okay, he was your brother! But at the same time, you hated how your parents just assumed he would come and live with you. Not even asking how you felt about it. And it brought up some deeply buried childhood feelings of forced passivity, of having to put other people before yourself.

The morning of his arrival was spent cleaning. Suddenly you noticed how much dust was sitting on the window frame, the overloaded kitchen counter and the dishes still in the skin.

It wasn’t like Sunoo would mind it or even notice it, but your mom would absolutely ask about it later on the phone, and you didn’t need another “You should set a good example” guilt trip on top of everything else.

By the time he rang the doorbell you were beyond frazzled. Exhausted. Still, you swallow down your feelings as you open the door. Trying to match Sunoo’s excitement.

“Noona!” he excitedly greets you, returning his hug you momentarily allow the familiar scent to calm you down.

“I missed you,” you honestly tell him. And that’s when you notice a tall figure entering behind Sunoo.

You do a double look as you realize who Sunoo brought with him. Niki walked in after Sunoo.

Very much not the same Niki you remembered.

He stepped through the doorway like he belonged there. His duffle bag slung over one shoulder, expression calm — even a little bored. And for a second, your brain couldn’t quite catch up.

Because it was Niki.

But taller. Leaner. Broader. Hair slightly longer. Clothes hanging off him in a way that made him look effortlessly cool. And suddenly you felt embarrassed for being in sweatpants, in your own home.

He met your eyes and — god help you — smiled. Not the gap-toothed, chipmunk-cheeked grin you remembered from middle school photos and summer sleepovers. This one was... different. A little crooked. Like he knew something you didn’t.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and smooth. “It’s been a while.”

It had. Too long, apparently.

Because somewhere in that space of a few years, Niki had evolved into the kind of guy that made your stomach do weird, panicked flips. And now he was standing in your apartment.

Like it was normal.

Like it was fine.

And it was fine, you remind yourself. Because this was the same Niki you’ve known practically your whole life. Same Niki who spent most of his summers over at your house, playing with Sunoo. Same Niki who would annoy you.

And just because he was hot, and not just hot but exactly your type kind of hot didn’t mean anything.

This was fine.

Forcing the sudden nervousness down, you beg yourself to speak like a normal person.

“Yeah, it has,” comes your stiff reply. But thankfully, Sunoo was great at smoothing over any initial awkwardness.

“You didn’t even clean up for us, huh? Love the hospitality, noona,” Sunoo teases.

“I did clean. Your face is just rude,” you scowl.

“Wow, the welcome committee is on fire today. Good thing I brought snacks. And Niki.”

“I told him not to announce me like I’m a prize he won,” Niki says, shrugging slightly, still looking at you. You gulp as you look away from him.

“Well. You do come with less mess than Sunoo, so… maybe a partial prize,” you speak, trying not to look at the way the black tank top hugged his waist, the low rise of his pants allowing his boxers to peek through.

“Okay, rude. You missed me,” Sunoo jabs back, used to your teasing.

“You were gone for three months, not three years,” you joke, even though you really did miss him.

“Nice place. Feels like you,” Niki steps past Sunoo, glancing around.

“…That’s either an insult or a compliment, and I’m too tired to ask.”

“Definitely a compliment,” he replies, the sincere tone making you momentarily pause.

“She’s blushing. Look at that. Niki, you broke her,” Sunoo laughs lightly, his eyes crinkling in what-would-be cute way if he wasn’t actively trying to annoy you.

“Shut up. Both of you,” you say, flustered. Leaving towards the kitchen.  

“Come on, I’m starving. Didn’t you say you’d make that pasta you used to do?” Sunoo asks as he follows behind you.

“I said no such thing.”

“You did cook, though. Smells good,” Niki comments.

“…It’s literally just pasta,” you say, hating the way he was making you feel. The overflow of compliments. His intense gaze. The way he looked so at home in your place.

“Still. I missed it.”

You try to brush off the flustered feeling his reply gives you. Cursing inwardly at his smoothness.

“You’re just trying to get on my good side,” you reply, desperate to stop this conversation.

“Am I succeeding?” Niki asks as he smiles down at you. That boyish smile, the kind that makes you shy.

“…You’re obnoxious,” you say as you lightly push him away. A small smile on your face.

“Okay, stop flirting, I’m begging. I can’t live with this already,” Sunoo interjects, and you can’t tell if he’s serious or just joking around. Because this was not happening with Niki. You wouldn’t allow it. And you doubt Sunoo would be this chill if he knew what was going through your head.

“You haven’t even unpacked yet and I already regret this,” sighing as you reveal your true feelings.

“Too late. You opened the door,” Niki smirks, and you’re reminded of the way you three used to joke around.  

“That’s not legally binding, you know,” you bite back with a smile.

“Pretty sure it is,” Niki says, wolfishly smiling down at you.

“So, pasta!” Sunoo interrupts.

And that’s how your first day with Sunoo as your roommate goes. Him and Niki spend the whole day in your apartment, asking you about anything and everything related to uni life. Which courses to take, which ones to avoid. About the extracurricular activities, the student-run café, even the annoying guy in the library who never returns his books on time.

Talking to both of them together was easy—too easy, actually. It reminded you of late summers and sleepovers and childhood in general, a time when everything felt both chaotic and safe.

For a moment, you even let your guard down, let yourself laugh like none of this bothered you. Like it didn’t throw your carefully built world off its axis to see Niki in your space, grown up and... confusing. You were sure that whatever weird feelings he brought up in you, was just because you hadn’t seen him for a long time, and the feeling would fade with time. It’s normal to be surprised when you see someone after a long time and they’ve grown up you convince yourself.

When they finally left to run errands and get their campus IDs sorted, you found yourself sitting in the quiet afterward, not quite sure what to do with yourself. There was pasta on the stove and two extra mugs in the sink. And a weird, fluttery feeling in your chest you pretended not to notice.

Later on in the evening when it’s just you and Sunoo, he brings Niki up.

“So. Be honest. Were you surprised?”

“About what?” you ask, genuinely not knowing what he’s alluding to.

Sunoo motions around as if it was the most obvious thing “Niki. I saw your face when he walked in. You looked like you’d seen a ghost. A tall, hot ghost.”

“I did not—shut up,” you lightly laugh as you deny.

But Sunoo’s quick wit catches on, “You’re not denying the ‘hot’ part, though.”

“Do you want me to poison your dinner next time or just salt it within an inch of its life?”

 “Knew you missed me,” Sunoo grins. He tosses the dishtowel onto the rack, clearly pleased with himself. You roll your eyes but your lips twitch.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

The next time you see Niki, you aren’t expecting it.

It was your senior-year elective—an advanced movement and performance theory class that counted as a hybrid arts credit. You'd signed up partly for fun, partly because the professor was lenient, and mostly because you thought it would have nothing to do with anyone in your major.

Which is why your brain short-circuited a little when you walked in and saw Niki. Already sitting. Already acting like he belonged there.

“You're in this class?” you ask, as you walk up to him, clutching your bookbag to your chest.

“Yeah. You said this professor was easy,” he shrugs, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I didn’t say that to you,” you say, as you take a seat next to him.

Niki shrugs, “Sunoo has a big mouth.”

“I thought you were undeclared,” you reply after a beat of silence.

“I am. But I needed an elective. And I like movement.”

“Since when?” your eyes narrow, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“Since always. You just never noticed,” says Niki softly, his eyes focused ahead of him. And if you didn’t know any better you would think he was uncomfortable by your questioning.

The classrooms buzz dies down as the professor steps to the podium. Mr. Park was probably in his late 30’s, at the latest in his mid 40’s. And the reason you like him was because he was very laid back, you also heard from your friends he never failed anyone and always had the same exam questions every year. Exactly the type of easy course you needed.

“Okay everyone, for the semester project you’ll be working in pairs. It’ll be a fusion-based piece—contemporary with any personal style you bring. We’ll workshop it every week. Final showcase is in December. Questions?” His voice booms, before murmurs start.

Oh no, it seems he changed his course this year. Just your luck.

You sense Niki leaning in and stubbornly refuse to look at him.

“You gonna ask or am I?” he quietly asks, his voice sounding even deeper once he’s this close to you.

“What?” you play dumb.

“You’re the only person I know here. And I’m not about to dance with some dude named Brett who wore tap shoes to a contemporary class.”

You side eye Niki, then glance at Brett quickly. You stifle your laugh when you notice his attire. Tap shoes and tights, seems someone was taking this class seriously.

You giggle as you look back at Niki, “Fine.”

“Knew you'd come around,” he smugly tells you. His face close enough that you can make out the moles o his face. And you know you’re fucked when your heart rate speeds up.

After the class ends you find yourself in the on-campus coffee shop. Sitting by the window as you passively scroll through your phone. Opening a text thread with your friend, you start typing.

you [7:04 PM] you will not believe who’s in my elective

bestie [7:04 PM] 👁️👄👁️ spill

you [7:05 PM] niki. as in sunoo’s childhood best friend niki as in awkward middle school sleepovers and cheetos w chopsticks niki as in... is hot now niki like. distressingly hot

bestie [7:06 PM] WAIT ??? TALL NIKI? LONG LEGS NIKI ?? I thought he vanished after that bowl cut era ???

you [7:06 PM] he did and then he reappeared like a final boss

bestie [7:06 PM] LMAOOO STOP wait how hot. scale of 1 to id ruin my life for him

you [7:07 PM] im already halfway to ruined he smelled like... clean laundry and sin also we’re dance partners now. for the entire semester 🙂🔫

bestie [7:08 PM] you’re done for. you’re LIVING THE YN LIFE

you [7:08 PM] no bc if sunoo finds out my soul will exit my body

bestie [7:09 PM] sunoo doesn’t need to know unless you two are messing around 👀

Your stomach swoops as you read the last message. Flustered you send the last messages as you get ready to head home.

you [7:09 PM] BLOCKED REPORTED IM GOING HOME

You return back to your apartment, the front door softly clicking shut behind you. Sunoo texted you he’ll be home later, some orientation thingy keeping him preoccupied. The apartment is bathed in the orange hues of the sunset and you savor in the stillness and peace.

You sink into the couch, the memory of Niki creeping unwantedly in your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, about his pretty smile, about his deep voice – seriously his voice used to be so high pitched, this new version of Niki was giving you a whiplash.

Still. I missed it

Your mind drifts back to your conversation, but before you could fully spiral, you pick up the remote to numb your mind with some stupid TV show. Forcing yourself to think away any thoughts of tall boys who smell nice.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

You’re already stretching when Niki walks into the dance studio practice room. His white hoodie sleeves pushed up, black hair still slightly damp from a quick shower. He tosses his bag down with practiced ease, giving you a nod and a small grin that makes your stomach do an unhelpful flip.

Niki slicks the hair out of his face, in a casual manner addressing you as he puts a snapback hat on.

"You came early. Planning to show me up?"

You smile at him as you watch him start stretching in front of you. His hoodie rising dangerously when he stretches his arms above his head.

"Somebody’s gotta carry this partnership."

 "Bold of you to assume it's not me," Niki smirks, watching you through the mirror.

You raise an eyebrow, but he just shrugs, dropping into a low stretch like he’s been doing this forever. You try not to stare, but he’s focused, surprisingly flexible. It’s hard not to notice how graceful his movements are. Like he knows exactly how much attention he’s drawing—and doesn’t care.

And that’s the part that gets you. His effortless nonchalance, it makes you feel as if he’s only halfway present with you, your mind wandering to dangerous thoughts of how you could make him fully focus on you.

The professor sent demo videos last night. You’d both agreed on All That Matters—partly because of the flowy R&B tempo, partly because neither of you wanted anything too theatrical.

You click play on the speaker, and Niki stands, holding a hand out toward you.

"Ready to stop pretending we don’t have chemistry?" he asks, his eyebrows slightly raised in an attractive manner.

You scoff, "Ready to focus, maybe," but let him pull you up anyway. His touch electrifying.

The first moves are slow — light footwork and mirrored movements. Easy to get through without contact. But then the bridge hits, and the choreography shifts.

He steps into your space without hesitation. A hand on your waist to turn you. You freeze, barely a second, but it’s enough for Niki to notice the shift. Quizzically looking at you in question.

"Sorry. Just… tired," you unconvincingly say, a slight shiver running down your spine where Niki’s hand rests.

He doesn’t push, but his hand lingers a moment too long. His intense gaze piercing right through you. As if he doesn’t believe you – but he doesn’t push it.

You move through the sequence again. This time, your hands brush. His palm slides against your lower back. You react less, but goosebumps appear on your arms. He notices that, too. And thankfully doesn’t comment on it.

You try to ration – you’re only being like this because you haven’t gotten laid in a long time. Definitely not because you find Niki insanely attractive.

When you pause to get water, you catch yourself watching him — really watching — the way his jaw clenches when he counts under his breath, the way his shirt rides up slightly when he stretches.

You look away fast. Hope he doesn’t notice.

But he does. Because unbeknownst to you he always noticed everything about you. Has been noticing, ever since you were kids. But he never made any moves on you, you never seemed interested before. Which worked, because he didn’t want to ruin his friendship with Sunoo by fucking things up with you.

It did make him wonder what changed for you, or was he only imagining things in his head. That’s why he doesn’t call you out, only walking past you with a quiet "Same time next week?"

"Yeah" you nod, your voice coming out more breathless and softer than you intend.

He gives you one last unreadable look. Then leaves.

And your brain won’t stop replaying the exact placement of his hand on your waist.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

On the weekend you are cooped up in your apartment with Sunoo and Niki. The later coming over with the intention of just hanging out with Sunoo. But once the evening sneaks up and he still isn’t ready to leave he finds himself in front of your shut bedroom door.

He ponders for a moment before softly knocking.

“Come in,” comes your muffled voice, and he opens the door. He doesn’t know what he expected your room to look like but somehow it’s very much you. A neatly made bed in the corner, white dresser and your desk. Where you were sitting right now.

You had little trinkets all over your room, a few plants on the window still. It made Niki feel cozy and warm, everything reminded him of you.

“Hey,” he greets, scratching his neck as he’s suddenly unsure of himself.

“Thought we could get an early start on our theoretical part of the project?” he asks you and that’s how you find yourself on the floor, knees brushing with Niki’s as you two do research on your laptop.

Niki’s quiet presence lulls you into a comfortable silence as you two work, his voice breaking you out of your concentration.  

“Still mad I showed up with Sunoo?” he softly asks, his voice hiding a certain tenderness, vulnerability.

“I was never mad. Just… surprised,” you tell him, your gaze still focused on your laptop screen.

He hums, “Sunoo said you weren’t thrilled. That you liked having the place to yourself.”

“It’s not that I don’t want him here. I just... finally got used to things being mine. My time. My space. It’s stupid,” you sigh.

“It’s not stupid.” A beat passes before he speaks again, “You’ve always looked out for him. For everyone, really.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of the problem,” you say, trying to joke but your voice sounding too somber even to your own ears.

You don’t know what you expected from Niki. You thought he’d be fun, maybe a little cocky. You didn’t expect… this. Didn’t expect him to look at you like he actually wants to know you. To listen. And most surprisingly, like he actually understood you.

A long silence stretches between you two, both deeply in your thoughts, before Niki breaks it again.

“…For what it’s worth, I’m not trying to mess that up. I can keep out of your way,” Niki tells you.

“…You don’t have to,” you softly tell him, finally meeting his eyes. And something in your chest tugs—painfully tender.

He really meant that. He’d leave if you asked.

He holds your gaze for a second longer, something unreadable in his expression. Then, slowly, he nods.

You look away first. Of course you do. Your throat’s too tight.

You both go back to your screens, pretending to work again. But something has shifted between you two.

A few minutes pass. And this time you’re the one who breaks the stretching silence.

“You’re not supposed to be this tolerable, you know.”

He huffs a laugh, “I get that a lot.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

In weeks that follow you and Niki fall into a routine. Joint dance practices between just the two of you every Thursday, and your dance class with everyone on Tuesdays.

It is a Tuesday currently, meaning the whole class is in session. Instead of a lecture hall you’re all in a dance studio today, your professor wanting to see how everyone is progressing.  

Class is coming to an end and you’re picking up your water bottle from the side of the room when you spot him.

Niki is standing near the mirrors, still in his dance clothes, grinning at something a classmate next to him says, Eunchae you think. She’s twirling a strand of hair around her finger, clearly enjoying the conversation.

He says something back—low and easy—and she laughs, a little too loud. He doesn’t even flinch. Just leans a little closer, one hand tucked into his hoodie pocket.

You tell yourself it’s nothing, as you unknowingly burn holes into the two of them.

It’s fine.

It’s whatever. It’s normal to be overprotective of Niki – you’ve known him for forever you rationalize.

You scroll through your phone like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world, trying not to look. But your ears are burning. Your face feels hot.

Your friend in this class – Daniela – appears beside you, watching you not-watch them.

“You okay?” she asks, eyebrow raised.

You scoff. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’re burning a hole in the back of Niki’s head,” she easily replies, glancing to look at him over her shoulder.

You wave her off, voice too breezy. “Please. She’s not even his type.”

Daniela stares. “You know his type?”

“I mean, obviously he goes for girls who—like—giggle like it’s a sport and wear matching yoga sets. He’s literally 19. He probably thinks lip gloss counts as a personality.”

Daniela blinks. “…Girl.”

You frown. “What?”

“You’re jealous,” she deadpans.

“No, I’m not,” you deny suspiciously fast.

“No, you definitely are.”

You scoff again, louder this time. “Okay, can we not? It’s Niki. He’s just—he’s a kid.”

Daniela doesn’t even dignify that with a response. She just gives you the look. The one that says You’re lying and we both know it.

You refuse to meet her eyes.

From across the room, Niki catches your gaze and gives you a little nod—like a casual hey, you good?

You roll your eyes and turn away, heart suddenly racing for no reason you’re willing to admit.

You’re still reeling later in your room. The day exhausted you more than it should. And it was barely 4 p.m. You wanted nothing more than to just lay down and not think or do anything for a little while. At least not until Niki comes over later in the evening, you two having made plans to go over theory together.

Your phone buzzes and you seriously contemplate ignoring the call, but relent once the caller calls you again when you fail to pick up the first time.

Incoming Call: Sunoo 🍊 it reads on the caller ID.

You sigh and answer.

“You better be dying,” you say, exhaustion creeping in your voice.

Sunoo doesn’t seem to notice as he brightly asks (read: expects) you to do him a favor;  “Not dying. Just forgot my charger and my USB. And since you’re the best sister in the world you would bring them over to me?”

You are already starting to stand up, before he even finishes speaking. “Remind me why I’m not charging you rent?”

Sunoo laughs at that, “Because you love me.”

“True,” you softly reply, leaving your apartment and heading all the way over to Sunoo. Just an almost 30 minute walk, no biggie for someone who’s already so tired of this day.

You’re back home, in under an hour. Hair windswept, limbs heavy, stomach sour from scarfing down cafeteria fries while speed-walking half a mile. Not wanting to leave Niki waiting, since you were currently almost running late.

You drop your bag onto the floor, letting out an exaggerated groan as you sink onto the carpet in your living room.

Niki is already seated there and he watches you with that unbothered little tilt to his head.

“Long day?” he asks gently.

You shoot him a look, but it lacks bite. “Understatement of the year.”

He scoots over, making space for your laptop, but doesn’t press. Just gives you space and waits.

You both work in silence for a few moments before you speak again.

“Sometimes I wonder if people only know how to need me,” your voice is quiet. Unraveling.

Niki looks up from his screen. Doesn’t interrupt.

You laugh, bitter. “Sunoo called me earlier because he forgot his charger and USB and somehow that meant I had to drop everything and bring it. Like I’m campus tech support or something.”

A beat passes and then words start pouring out of you. “It’s not just him. It’s everyone. Professors. Classmates. Family. I say yes before I even think about it. And then I hate myself for feeling resentful after,” you don’t realize you’re shaking a little until you feel Niki’s gaze on you. Grounding you back into this moment with him, where it’s just you two.

Then he says, calm as always “You’re allowed to want space.”

You blink. The words are so simple they shouldn’t make your chest ache the way they do. But they land like a soft punch.

“You always take care of everyone. I don’t think anyone’s ever asked if you needed it too,” Niki continues and you wonder when he became so …wise, so observant of you.

Silence. The kind that’s full, not empty.

You don’t cry. But you do go still. Like something inside you just… let go.

When you finally meet his eyes, he’s already looking at you. Like he’s been looking this whole time.

“…Thanks,” you say, barely audible. “For seeing that. For not making me explain it.”

He just gives a quiet little nod. No smile. Just that same steady presence. Like he’s saying I’ve got you. Even if you don’t ask.

Your knee brushes his. And Niki wraps an arm around your shoulder pulling you close to him. You don’t flinch away this time – instead allowing yourself to soak in this moment.

It is only after you’ve let out a long exhale that you pull away.

“We should get back to this,” you say and miss the look Niki shoots in your direction.

You don’t allow yourself to dwell on this moment. No, instead you drown yourself in school work in the following days.

You're walking across campus with Daniela. The air smells like warm pavement and coffee—students are sprawled on lawns, music drifting from a Bluetooth speaker somewhere nearby.

You clutch your iced drink a little tighter as you talk, like that’ll cool the heat pooling low in your stomach from thoughts you’re not supposed to be having.

Daniela nudges you gently with her elbow. “So… what’s going on with you and your brother’s hot friend?”

You snort. “Nothing’s going on.”

She gives you a look.

You take a long sip, buying yourself a second. “I mean, even if I liked him—which I don’t—I wouldn’t do anything. He’s younger. And Sunoo’s best friend.”

Daniela slows her steps. “That’s your reason?”

“It would just… complicate things,” you say, waving your hand like you’re brushing it off. “He’s literally nineteen, Dani.”

“What, and you’ve suddenly become eighty?”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Daniela looks at you for a beat, the kind of look that says okay, but you’re lying to yourself and I’m letting you. “Whatever you say.”

You don’t see him—Niki, standing behind the open glass door of the student lounge just off the path. He was on his way out. Until he heard your voice.

He doesn’t move. Just stands there, frozen.

The words Even if I liked him—which I don’t keep echoing in his ears. Over and over.

He doesn’t say anything.

He just leaves.

And you… never even knew he was there. You and Daniela reach the classroom taking a seat just before the professor arrives.

You’re confused as you look for Niki, he was never late. And yet, he steps through the door 20 minutes later and you move your stuff from the seat you were saving for him. Flabbergasted you watch him as he straight up ignores you, sitting somewhere else instead.

Weird. He always sat with you, but maybe he just didn’t see you…

The lesson was probably the most boring one so far, with you being used to talking through them with Niki. But now as you sit by yourself you find yourself staring at him.

He returns your gaze and there's a flicker of something you can’t read. Something almost guarded. But you’re probably just imagining it, he’s probably just tired or something.

The next day you receive a message from him, saying he can’t come over, because something came up. You don’t push it, but you can’t deny the pang of hurt that shoots through you, doubt setting in.

It doesn’t help when a couple of days later Sunoo mentions in passing, “has Niki’s been weird? You guys good? He hasn’t really talked about the project much.”

And you shrug it off, but you can feel that something is off, that he’s distancing himself from you. So you give him space. To cool off, for whatever it is you might have done.

Until you can’t take it anymore.

It happens when you two meet in the practice room. And Niki’s so obviously acting different. He doesn’t joke. Doesn’t tease. Keeps distance physically.

You don’t look at him when you walk to the center of the room. You don’t have to—you can feel the tension in the space between you already.

The choreo isn’t easy. It’s intimate, breathless, full of weight shifts and skin contact. The kind of dance that demands vulnerability, trust, proximity.

But Niki barely says a word.

He mirrors your movements with precision, his body effortlessly falling into rhythm with yours. He doesn’t look at you—but when his hand finds your waist during a partnered lift, you feel it linger a fraction too long.

His fingers accidentally slip under your shirt when he lifts you up. You shiver. Not from cold, but from how badly you wish you didn’t care.

You’re breathless for reasons that have nothing to do with exertion.

Still, something’s off. You’re off.

You mess up a foot placement during a turn. Miss the beat on a drop. And worst of all—you flinch when he touches you again.

That’s when he finally speaks.

Low voice. Quiet, but firm.

“You always think too much.”

You blink, startled.

He steps a little closer—close enough to feel the heat of his skin, but still not touching you. Not really.

“You dance better when you stop trying to be perfect.”

You meet his eyes for the first time in what feels like days—and he doesn’t look away.

Something in your stomach flips. The version of him you’ve been trying not to miss is right there. Not teasing, not cold—but unreadable, unreachable.

Strong. Steady. Saying things that cut a little too close.

You open your mouth to respond, but he steps back.

And just like that, his walls go up again.

You ask, in a snappier tone than you intend to.

“Did I do something?”

But Niki shrugs.

“No,” he says, not meeting your eyes.

You hate it, hate this, wish he would just go back to the way he was. The lingering touches, sneaking glances at you, making you laugh.

You miss him even if he is right next to you. Somehow it would’ve been better, you bitterly think, if you two fought – not whatever this was, you couldn’t stand it.

You force a small smile, trying again.

“Seriously, though. You’ve been weird since…” you pause, searching his face “…is it because of something I did?”

Niki shrugs again, and you want to scream when he hits you with another “no,” still avoiding your gaze.  

“You sure? Because it kind of feels like I did,” you quietly say.

“It’s nothing. We should focus,” finally meeting your eyes, but his voice sounded flat, devoid of the usual warmth.

You nod, but the air between you two is tense. Silence cracks around the edges every time you try to fill it.

Later – after practice is over and you’re back home – you’re walking from the kitchen to your room, Sunoo’s voice echoes from the kitchen, playful but pointed.

“By the way, Eunchae said you and Niki make a cute team,” he wiggles his eyebrows playfully, “she was definitely fishing if he’s single, just saying.”

You half laugh, but it feels hollow to your own ears.

“Oh yeah? Let her shoot her shot, I guess,” you say it casually — but something tightens in your chest.

You close the door of your bedroom and pull your knees to your chest, sitting on the bed. Your room dim.

Why did it feel like you lost something you never even had?

You don’t know it but Niki is standing in the hallway just outside your apartment door, earphones in but not playing any music.

His face unreadable. Except for the way his jaw is tight. And the way he closes his eyes like he’s trying not to care.

But he can’t get the imagine of the longing in your eyes every time you looked at him. The way your eyes would narrow anytime Eunchae came up to him.

And that’s when it hits him you’re not rejecting him — you’re rejecting the idea of them.  Suddenly the realizations don’t stop.

I make her nervous. She feels something. She’s lying to herself.

Let me remind her what it feels like when I’m close.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

It’s class break and you’remid-convo with Daniela, laughing at something dumb. When you look across the classroom, Niki is standing by the door with Eunchae. He's listening politely, nodding at whatever she's saying—but he's not really with her.

His eyes are already on you.

Not staring. Not smirking. Just... watching. Still. Unapologetic. Like he’s reading a language only you speak.

You blink, unsettled.

He doesn’t look away.

Then, Daniela touches your arm, affectively breaking the moment.

After class ends, you brush past him on your way to the bathroom. It’s a tight hallway. You’re not even sure he’s going to acknowledge you, because he’s been like this—off. Too cool. Too quiet.

But then his hand brushes the small of your back as you pass. Not a tease. Not a game.

A claim.

You freeze for half a second, breath caught. Look over your shoulder— but he's already walking away.

You come out of the bathroom, scrolling through your phone as you wait for Sunoo, arms folded, head buzzing from the tension.

Niki appears beside you, “hey.”

“I didn’t think you’d say hi today,” you mutter, trying not to sound bothered.

He shrugs. “Didn’t think you wanted me to.”

You smile, faint. “You always let people decide that for you?”

He lets out the smallest laugh. “No. Just you.”

Your heart stutters. But you don’t look away.

He pushes off the wall and steps closer—slow, easy. Like he’s giving you time to move if you want to.

You don’t.

“I know what you’ve been telling yourself,” he says, eyes not leaving yours.

“That I’m too close. That it’s messy. That it wouldn’t work.”

You lift your chin slightly. “And?”

“And…” His voice softens, “…you keep looking at me like you want it to.”

You don’t answer right away. You feel it, that shift in the air—how close you both are to crossing whatever line you’ve drawn.

You study him. The way he’s not pushing, not assuming. Just waiting.

Quietly certain.

So you say it, “You think I don’t want this?” Your voice is soft, but sure. Steady.

His expression flickers—just a little.

You take a small breath. “I do.”

Another pause, “I just… I didn’t know if I should.”

He exhales, almost like he’s been holding it in. His hand grazes the back of his neck, a flicker of nervousness showing through.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” you add. And you mean it. “Not with you.”

For a moment, everything’s still. Then he says it—quiet and careful “Then don’t. Just let it happen.”

The corners of your mouth lift, despite yourself.

“Just once?” you ask, teasing lightly—but there’s sincerity in your eyes.

He grins, the first real one today, and it does something to you.

“Start with that,” he says.

You nod. Almost imperceptibly. But he sees it.

That night, your phone buzzes.

 Kii<3 [10:25 PM]

Pick you up Friday?

 You [10:27 PM]

Yeah.

You stare at your screen a beat longer than necessary. The tiny word — yeah — feels too small for what’s unraveling in your chest.

Because now it’s real. This thing between you. Not hypothetical, not flirtation buffered by excuses or safe distance. A real date. With Niki.

You press your phone to your chest and lie back, heart wild beneath your ribs. You’re nervous — obviously — but not in a way that makes you want to pull back. It's the kind of nervous that comes with possibility. The kind that reminds you you're alive. And beneath it, something warmer hums: excitement.

You can’t believe this is happening. That he wants this. That you said yes. That after all the circling and second-guessing, this is where you landed.

It’s terrifying. It’s dizzying. And it’s so much better than anything you ever let yourself hope for.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Friday evening.

You almost cancel.

You open your wardrobe, stare at your reflection, then close it again. Twice. Your hands hover over your phone more than once, thumb twitching toward his contact.

But then you force yourself to pull it together, deciding on a low crop top and a black skirt.

He’s already waiting when you step outside — parked just at the curb, leaning against the passenger side of his car. Streetlight catching on the edges of his hair, hands in the pockets of a jacket you’ve seen him wear a thousand times but never like this.

He straightens the second he sees you. Not obvious, but enough. His gaze trails down, slow — not in a possessive way, but reverent. Like he’s genuinely trying to commit this version of you to memory.

You’re suddenly warm everywhere.

“Hey,” he says, and his voice is too casual for how intensely he’s looking at you.

You arch a brow. “You’re staring.”

He doesn’t flinch. “Yeah. So are you.”

You can’t help the laugh that slips out, nerves tangled in it. “Don’t start already.”

He opens the car door for you, dipping his head close as you slide in. “Can’t help it,” he murmurs, low. “I’ve been waiting to look at you like this.”

Your breath stumbles. You don’t answer—just smile, tucking it into the warmth.

The drive is quiet in the most perfect way. His car smells faintly like him—clean, a little musky, like cedar and laundry and something unmistakably his. A soft R&B playlist drifts through the speakers.

You sneak looks at him when you think he’s not paying attention. His hand on the gearshift. The subtle way his jaw flexes when he focuses on the road. His thumb tapping along to the beat.

He catches you once, glancing over with the ghost of a smile.

“You look really pretty,” he says, almost shy. It’s not the kind of compliment that’s thrown out for effect. It lands warm, soft.

You laugh, nerves bubbling out. “You’re not too bad either.”

He grins. “Had to. Big night.”

By the time you reach the rooftop bar, the sky’s already in a blue-lavender stretch before night truly falls. Warm lights hang overhead, swaying gently. The music’s changed to something jazzy and slow, but it fits—like the world decided to match your pacing.

You’re seated in a quiet corner, the city stretching far beneath. He doesn’t look at the menu before ordering for you—he just knows.

Your drink arrives exactly the way you like it.

And when you ask, teasing, “You just memorize everyone’s drink order?”

He leans in slightly, resting his chin on his hand. “Only yours.”

You’re already laughing, cheeks flushed, the world softening at the edges.

His fingers brush yours. It’s not accidental. It’s intentional. A question he doesn’t ask out loud.

You don’t pull away.

There’s a little silence before you tease, “What, you stalking my habits now?”

“I’m cataloguing the things that make you smile,” he replies without missing a beat.

And you do smile. You try not to, but you do. It bubbles up before you can stop it. And that just makes him grin wider.

“Stop,” you say, hiding behind your cup.

“You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.” He leans on his elbow, chin in his hand. “You always do that when you like something but don’t wanna admit it.”

“Now you’re making things up.”

“Now you’re avoiding the fact that you like me.”

You meet his eyes. And for a second, neither of you laughs. It lands deeper than it should. Like the words found a door you didn’t mean to leave cracked open.

You don’t say anything. Not yet. But your silence is a different kind now—not pulling away, just… caught.

And he doesn’t push. He just lets it be, the way he always seems to know how to.

You leave the bar after you two finish your drinks. The warm air inviting you on a walk. The city buzzes around you — soft traffic, neon flickers, the low hum of people living their lives — but you don’t really hear any of it. Not when you’re standing close enough to bump shoulders and not bother stepping away.

He reaches for his phone. “Smile.”

You do. Without thinking.

He takes a picture. You try to grab his phone to see it, laughing, but he slips it back into his jacket.

“Let me see!”

He shakes his head. “Not posting it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s just for me.”

You go quiet. Something in your stomach flips.

You stop under a streetlamp.

The light catches on his cheekbones, soft gold spilling over his lashes, his mouth, his collarbones peeking through the neck of his sweatshirt. He looks like something out of a dream. Which is annoying, because dreams aren’t supposed to smirk at you like that.

You cross your arms, partly to brace yourself. Partly because your heart won’t chill out.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, trying to sound unaffected.

Niki tilts his head, slow. “Like what?”

“Like you know something I don’t.”

“I do,” he says, easy. ���I know how good you look under this light.”

You roll your eyes. But you're smiling now, and he sees it. He always does.

“You’re not slick, Niki.”

“I don’t have to be,” he says, and damn it, that grin should be illegal.

Your chest is tight in a way that’s too much and just right. You step in without realizing, close enough that chest touch. He holds onto your wait. You glance up—and he’s already watching you.

Not in that heavy, intense way he sometimes does. It’s softer now. But still locked in. Like he’s trying not to blink.

“This is weird,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “In a good way. I just… didn’t think this would ever actually happen.”

He leans in just a bit, voice low but warm. “Been thinking about it for weeks.”

“You’re such a simp.”

“Only for you,” he says, and there’s zero hesitation in it.

It knocks the breath right out of you.

He holds your gaze for one long, humming second. You can feel the tension hovering between your mouths like a question waiting to be asked.

“If I kiss you right now,” he says, voice barely above the buzz of the city, “you gonna regret it?”

You shake your head. A little too fast.

“Good.”

And then he leans in.

You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing until he closes the last inch between you.

His hand finds your waist. Yours tangle in the front of his hoodie. And then—

He kisses you.

Not soft. Not tentative.

It’s hungry. Like he’s been holding back for weeks and the dam just cracked wide open. His mouth moves over yours like he’s trying to make sense of it, memorize it, own it. And you kiss him back just as fiercely—hands fisting in the fabric at his chest, pulling him closer, chasing the taste of him like it might undo you.

It’s too much. Not enough. Your thoughts dissolve. You don’t know where his breath ends and yours begins. The world’s gone blurry around the edges.

You gasp into his mouth when his fingers slide up, brushing your jaw, anchoring you there like he needs you solid in his hands. Like this isn’t real unless he’s touching you.

He groans—quiet, but guttural—and the sound shoots straight down, between your thighs.

You break apart just long enough to suck in air, both of you breathing like you just ran a mile.

His forehead tips to yours.

“Fuck,” he whispers, voice wrecked and still out of breath. “We have to stop.”

You blink, still tasting him on your lips, dazed. “What?”

He shakes his head, eyes still closed. Like he’s fighting himself. His hands gripping your hips tightly.

“We have to stop. Or I’m not gonna be able to.”

You feel it in your knees. In your stomach. In everywhere.

He pulls back a fraction, gaze finding yours. His hands don’t leave your body, but they don’t wander either. Just… steady. Present. Hot with restraint.

“This isn’t how I want to do this,” he says, low. “Not like this. Not in a rush. You deserve better than that.”

You exhale shakily. He’s right. You hate that he’s right. And you love that he cares enough to be right.

Still, it takes you a second to find your voice.

“So what now?”

His thumb brushes your cheek. “Now I walk you to the car.”

He smiles. Kind of breathless. Kind of wrecked. Like you just rewired something in him.

“And then I go home and try really hard not to think about how good you taste.”

You grin, heart thudding. “You’re not gonna succeed.”

He raises a brow. “Not even a little.”

And this time, when you link your fingers with his, it’s easy. His larger hand engulfing yours. His shoulder keeps bumping into yours as you walk, and by the time you reach his car you’re safely tucked under his arm. Your torso to his side. And for the first time in a long time you feel alive.

You’re still on the buzz as you get ready for bed. Too lazy before to take off your makeup and change out of your clothes. Just as you’re about to head into the bathroom your phone pings and a grin unknowingly stretches over your face.

You bit your lip, trying to contain the quickly awakening tingles between your legs, as you read over Niki’s message. The memory of his lips on yours, his hands all over you replaying through your mind.

Kii<3 [11:12 PM] you still wearing that skirt from tonight?

You [11:13 PM] Yeah,, want a little preview

Kii<3 [11:14 PM] fuck yes don’t keep me waiting

You stand in front of the mirror, twirling as you try to find a pretty angle. You settle on you looking over your shoulder into the mirror, your hip popped in a way that accentuates your butt.

You [11:15 PM] Like it?

You ask after you watch his message bubble appear and disappear.

Kii<3 [11:16 PM] damn you’re unreal

im switching the phone to my left hand

You [11:17 PM] wait till you see what comes next

You giddly type, sitting on your bed – legs straddling the duvet underneath you as you eye one of your decorative pillows.

Kii<3 [11:18 PM] im ready. What’re you doing right now?

You [11:19 PM] sitting on my bed, got a pillow nearby…

Kii<3 [11:20 PM] want you to straddle it

You gulp when you read his text, already adjusting your position as you  listen to his instructions. You can feel your underwear already sticking to you as you shift over the pillow. You gasp as you sit on the pillow, the wetness uncomfortable where it touches your skin.

You [11:21 PM] you’re crazyyy,, want me to take my panties off?

Kii<3 [11:21 PM] fuck yes

Your pussy clenches at his eager response. Imagining him in his own room, dick in his hand. You’re quick to move. Standing up you slide the panties down your legs, throwing them in the corner of your room. You contemplate taking off your skirt when you read the next message.

Kii<3 [11:22 PM]

show me everything, im so hard rn

You [11:23 PM] you like it? Decided to keep the skirt on..

but I don’t mind taking it off for you

You type, the photo you sent taken from an angle above. Your skirt is bunched at your waist, the fluffy pillow under you glaringly obvious. One of your hands is playfully pinching a nipple between your fingers, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. Your eyes are half lidded, cheeks covered in a natural blush.

Kii<3 [11:24 PM] baby you’ve got me losing it over here

You [11:25 PM] Good. That’s exactly the plan

lemme see u too

You send and regret it almost immediately when you see his reply. Niki with his hoodie pulled up, covering his hair. His eyes incredibly dark, barely in the frame. At the center of the photo is his hand, rings covering his fingers. But that’s not where your focus lies.

You stare at his leaking cock. Standing proud as he holds it in his hand, veins visible as the slick of his pre-cum shines on every detail of his cock.

Before you even realize it, you’re moving on your pillow. You’re desperate to reach your release, so much so that you don’t reply to his photo.

Your ringing phone breaks you out of your humping and you momentarily pause your ministrations as you pick up.

“Liked it that much baby?” Niki teases you, his deep voice making your stomach swoop and pussy clench around nothing.

You whine, adjusting the corner of the pillow right under your entrance.

“You have no idea,” you rasp, “I’m gonna finger myself, the pillow isn’t really doing it for me.”

“Figured,” he replies, voice strained and muffled, “next time I’ll be the one doing that.”

“Yeah Niki? Wanted your fingers tonight,” you breathe, trying to keep it down – you didn’t want Sunoo to hear you.

“Fuck princess, I wanted it too, wanted to fuck you in my backseat, not caring who sees us,” Niki eggs you on.

And the image of you and Niki in his backseat. You straddling him and his hands all over you has you reaching your climax.

You moan, louder than you realize, “next time, ‘kay?”

“Next time what, use your words,” Niki gruffs and you hear shuffling in the background.

“Fuck me next time we see each other,” you gasp.

“Please,” you whine into the phone, “fuck fuck fuck, I’m close Niki. Are you close too?”

Your pretty noises make Niki furiously tug on his cock, you hear a small curse and then nothing.

After a beat Niki speaks, his voice breathless “next time, princess. I promise.”

Your phone call ends shortly after but no matter how many more times you make yourself cum that night it’s not enough. It doesn’t satisfy the ache you feel any time you try to stop touching yourself.

Frustrated you force yourself to try and sleep it off. When morning comes you’re a mess. Barely slept.

It’s not until Monday when you see Niki again – one of his family members had their birthday and hence he was absent over the weekend.

You see him before he sees you.

Just for a second—tall, hood up, bag slung low—his gaze flicking through the crowd. The second your eyes meet, something shifts. It’s subtle, but it knocks the breath right out of your lungs.

You thought texting would be enough. It wasn’t. Not even close.

Now here he is, in the middle of a bustling hallway—shoulders tense, mouth parted like he’s about to say something, but you both already know there’s no time. Your next class starts in three minutes, and someone’s already calling your name.

He doesn’t stop walking. Neither do you. But as you pass each other, your hands brush, and your bodies lean in just enough to feel the heat crackle between you.

You barely glance up, but you feel it—his eyes, dragging down the side of your face, to your mouth, to the line of your collar. And for a second you swear he’s about to grab your wrist and pull you somewhere you can’t be seen.

But he doesn’t.

Because right then, someone falls into step beside you, Sunghoon—a guy from class, talking about a group project. You murmur something polite, eyes still locked with Niki’s across the hallway.

You see it hit him. The flash of irritation. The stiff set of his jaw. His pace slows just a fraction, like his body won’t let him leave it alone.

You feel it too—the ache, the itch under your skin that hasn’t gone away since Friday night. Like your body knows it’s his you’re still wanting.

You don’t say a word. You just keep walking.

But you know exactly where this is going.

And so does he.

Just a few minutes before the class ends you pull the phone out of your bag, suppressing a smile as you see a text from Niki.

Kii<3 [1:32 PM] who’s the guy

you [2:39 PM] chill 😭 just sunghoon from my seminar we’re in a group project together

Kii<3 [2:39 PM] and you had to smile at him like that?

You roll your eyes at his dramatics as you write your reply. Holding your phone under the desk so the professor doesn’t see you texting.

you [2:40 PM] you’re ridiculous 😭 it wasn’t even like that also you literally walked past me and didn’t say shit

Kii<3 [2:41 PM] i was one second away from grabbing you right there in the hallway but i didn’t want to start a scandal

You clench your thighs together as your imagination goes wild. You two would definitely be trying it, in the near future.

you [2:41 PM] oh so you do have some self-control color me shocked

Kii<3 [2:42 PM] barely meet me after class we need to talk

you [2:42 PM] “talk”? 👀 should i be scared or excited

Kii<3 [2:43 PM] yes. ill be outside your building don’t make me wait

you [2:44 PM] i wouldn’t dare

Kii<3 is typing... Kii<3 [2:46 PM] better not bc the second we’re alone im making you forget his name

You’re only half surprised when you step out of the class 14 minutes later to see Niki waiting for you. The hallway outside your lecture room buzzes with students, the air heavy with end-of-day chatter and the scrape of sneakers. You step out mid-convo with Sunghoon, who’s animated about some shared group project, gesturing with his hands. You’re smiling, but not really at him.

Then your eyes lock with Niki.

He’s leaning against the wall a few feet away, arms crossed, expression unreadable — until it’s not. His eyes drop to your mouth. Then drag over your legs. His jaw flexes like he’s biting back something unholy.

You slow your steps.

He doesn’t move.

You pass him anyway, because you’re petty, and you like the way his stare burns into your back.

“That guy talks a lot,” Niki leans down to whisper in your ear. His voice low, hand lightly touching your waist. Possessively.

You stop walking. Sunghoon keeps going, oblivious. You turn halfway, just enough to give Niki a look over your shoulder.

“Jealous?” you ask, smirking.

Niki steps fully into your personal space, pulling you into him by your waist, “no.”

His voice drops and the words leaving his mind make you freeze.

“I’m hard.”

You blink. A breath catches in your throat. Your stomach flips so hard it almost knocks the air out of you.

“Here? Really?” you ask, voice airy and breathless.

Niki leans in, grinning against your cheek “do you even realize how you look when you walk out of class like that?”

His fingers ghost over your wrist, featherlight. And goosebumps appear where his touch leaves.

“All I could think about was bending you over one of those desks.”

You don’t even have a witty comeback. Just heat — pooling low in your belly, throbbing between your legs.

“I have fifteen minutes,” you tell him, already so needy for him. 

“That’s adorable. I need hours,” Niki teases you.

He glances toward the doors, then back at you, voice gravel “meet me at yours. I’m not gonna wait another fucking day.”

You don’t attend any of your next classes, instead you leave immediately.

The second your apartment door clicks shut, his mouth is on you. Your bag hits the floor. His hands are under your shirt, your fingers already tugging at his hoodie.

You gasp into his mouth when he lifts you — one hand under your thigh, the other gripping your waist like he needs you closer, deeper, now. He walks you backward until your spine hits the wall and your legs wrap around him automatically.

“Don’t tease,” you pant.

“I’m not in the mood to tease, pretty,” Niki darkly grins at you, his voice doing things to you.

The kiss is frantic. Teeth. Tongue. Groaning into each other’s mouths like you’re trying to crawl inside one another. Your skirt rides up fast, and you let it, let his hands explore every inch like they’re claiming you.

“Take it off. Take all of it off,” you moan against his jaw, kissing down his neck when his hands start pulling on your clothes.

Niki shakes his head a no, “do it for me,” he tells you as he leads you into your bedroom.

Clothes disappear — shirt tugged over his head, buttons popping open, Niki’s hands all over you. He lifts you up as he carries you to your bed, dropping you with a thud and following you down like he’s starving.

The air smells like skin and sweat and him — clean and warm and dizzying.

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me,” Niki says as he hovers over you, his voice thick.

“Show me,” you say as you pull him in.

And he does. Niki kisses down your neck, his big hands on your tits. He’s going lower as he continues kissing you, listening to your gasps and small moans.

Niki pinches your nipple between his fingers, his mouth on your other boob. You moan, back arching off the bed. Your fingers tangle themselves in Niki’s hair as you pull him closer to you.

Your legs wrap around his torso, but Niki is already moving.

“Turn around,” he tells you, unashamedly palming himself through his boxers as his dark eyes drink you in.

You comply, laying on your stomach. Niki grabs you by your hips as he manhandles you on your knees, your front still on the bed.

You gasp when you feel his hands on your ass, gripping and kneading your cheeks.

“Baby please let me taste you,” Niki whines, his hands exploring everywhere from your ass to your inner thighs. He still hasn’t touched your pussy but you’re growing desperate as you push your ass close to his face.

Your mind is fuzzy as Niki traces his fingernails on the inside of your thigh, you shiver moaning before he even touches you where you most need him.

You can feel his breath on your slit, moaning as you push your ass in his face barely able to feel his lips on you.

Niki sees your struggle as he reaches for the pillow, resting it under your hips.

He murmurs against your skin “every inch of you drags me crazy, you know that?”

He lightly bites your ass, slapping it when you whine.

“Niki, need you,” you whine and gasp when you feel his mouth on you. His flattened tongue covers your slit and you push yourself into the warmth.

“oh god yes,” you breathe but pause once his hands grip your ass cheeks apart and he licks a long stripe from your slit, over your hole and stops at your asshole.

Your eyes widen when his tongue traces your puckered hole.

“what are you doing?” you ask as a pleasurable sensation you’ve never experienced before spreads through you.

Your pussy clenches when Niki lowly replies, “trust me,” and continues licking all over you.

“Taste so good,” comes his gruffy voice, he spits on the puckered hole, spreading the saliva with his middle finger.

you’ve never had someone play with your ass and while the sensation was new to you, it was also oddly pleasurable, your pussy pulsating as the pleasure is just enough to keep you at bay. But not enough at the same time.

Niki’s finger traces your hole, his other hand sneaking into your pussy entrance. You can feel yourself throb, the pleasure overwhelming.

Tears fill your eyes as Niki continues licking over your puckered hole, his middle and ring finger fingering your pussy in a hook motion.

You’re a moaning mess as you grip your sheets, legs spread as far as they can comfortably be. Loud licking sounds are covered by your squelching pussy and moans.

“Niki, I’m close,” you breathe, “please please please,” you whine, as tears build in your eyes. Enough to make your eyes glassy and makeup smudged but not enough to spill over on your cheeks.

“I like it when you’re like this,” he tells between licks, his fingers picking a slower and harder rhythm that has you seeing stars, his voice quiet and dark.

“oh my god, don’t stop talking,” you further plead, his voice driving you crazy. 

“Only if you keep telling me how good you’re feeling,” he says as his nails sink into the skin where your butt and thighs meet.

“Feels so good Ki, you’re so good, please, don’t stop, plea-“ you mewl, only to stop breathing as the pleasure almost tips over. Niki feels your pulsating walls, knows you’re about to cum and he pulls back.

You whine, turning around, only to see Niki’s intense gaze on your ass, watching as your butt winks at him.

“You’re so hot baby,” he tells you and it’s enough to have you close again. His eyes travel up your body and you shiver under his gaze.

“Turn around,” he instructs with a light pat on your hip, his eyes not leaving yours.

You comply, laying on your back now and Niki hovers over you. His hand under your jaw as he tries to read your emotions.

“Pretty,” he breathes, “are you gonna cry for me?” he mocks, his lips in a fake pout. He kisses you softly on your lips one hand still holding your chin. His other grips your hair in a pleasurable pull and you moan, relaxing into him fully.

“See that,” Niki asks, buckling his hips into yours. You don’t realize when he took his boxers off but don’t complain once you look down.

His cockhead wet and inviting, dick standing red and proud as Niki ruts his hips into yours.

“You like dragging it out, don’t you? Making me watch while I fall apart for you,” you complain. He just smirks at you as he lines his dick over your pussy. Your lips are hugging him and you hear him curse in a whisper, his voice strained.

“You don’t even know how hot you look under me—fuck,” he shudders, closing his eyes tightly and resting his head on yours. You wrap your arms under his arms pulling him fully on top of you.

But Niki doesn’t let you, “I’m too heavy, don’t wanna hurt you,” he says.

“Then just fuck me already Niki,” you say your lip caught between your teeth.

“Hands above your head. Don’t move. I want to take my time ruining you,” he decides and he watches the way your tits bounce when you move. He lightly slaps one of them and teases his cockhead over your clit.

You’re barely breathing, as the anticipation overtakes you.

“Yes, please Niki just put it in already, I’ll listen to whatever you say, just pleeeease,” you whine.

You both groan once his cockhead pushes past your entrance, your walls are still pulsating and you swear you’re close to cumming and he hasn’t even entered you fully.

Niki seems to be going through the same dilemma, his brows furrowed, eyes closed as he sucks his breath in.

“F-fuck,” he growls, holding onto your hands that are still bent above your head in compliance.

His frame covers yours as he slowly continues bullying his dick into you.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he comments, “keep looking at me so innocently baby and I’ll be busting into you before I even fuck you.”

You whine, pushing your tits up in a silent plead. Your walls wrap around his length so tightly that you swear you can feel him deeper than he even is.

You look down and see only half of him has entered you. Niki pushes further in and you feel so full you can’t focus on anything else.

One of his hands leave yours, trailing down your forearm, to your shoulders and stopping once it wraps around your throat.

“Be good,” he tells you before he pulls out slowly, pushing back in with force.

“So tight,” Niki shudders. You wrap both of your hands over his arm that’s still holding you in place by your throat, gasping in pleasure at the slow and steady, rough pace he set.

Your mouth is open in pleasure, no sound leaving as you watch Niki fucking you. His eyes are everywhere on you, with his free hand he pushes your one of your thighs up and you’re squished.

Feeling so full you close your eyes in pleasure, the new angle has you clutching your toes and no sound escapes your mouth as you drown in pleasure.

Niki sees you and you can feel his dick throb in you, he picks his pace up and it has you seeing stars.

A loud moan slips out, Niki’s hand leaving your neck as he works over your clit. You’re a moaning mess, as Niki plays with you however he pleases.

“Fuck baby, you’re so hot,” he breathes and you feel tears spill down your cheeks as you get lost in pleasure.

His dick is pushing into you, fingers on your clit and you still. Not breathing as your hands claw at his back.

You’re cumming and Niki curses. He sheats his dick inside of you, your tight walls holding him hostage.

Your rigidness forces him to stay inside when his balls twitch. He quietly groans, his voice hoarse as you feel warmth in you.

You’re so overwhelmed by Niki, by the pleasure still hitting you in small waves so you can only lay back and watch Niki as he pulls out.

His cheeks and chest flushed in blush and arms pumped. You watch as his dicks softens, his chest rising in deep breathes.

“Let me ride you Niki,” you ask, his whole demeanor turning you on once again.

“What?” he breathes, letting you push him on the bed and straddle him.

His cum trickles down your thigh once you sit up, but you don’t care, moving to straddle him.

“Just let me,” you tell him, he hisses when you touch his dick but it’s already starting to harden under your fingers.

You pump him once, twice and deem it good enough, hovering over it.

You push it in and listen as Niki whines under you, actually whines. The sound travelling straight to your pussy.

“W-wait, baby wait,” he pleads but you don’t listen. His hands are gripping your hips in a bruising grasp.

“You're so obsessed with me," you moan when his hands travel to your boobs once again. He's squeezing and scratching at them, letting you ride his hard cock.

He's smirking "of course I am. Look at you. You think I could ever stop?"

You pick up the pace, your tits bouncing and Niki slaps your ass, leaning against your headboard as he lets you use him in any way you please.

You grind yourself, holding onto his shoulder and moving into a squatting position as you chase your climax.

"You're not gonna behave, are you?" you mewl once Niki starts pushing his hips into you. He overtakes your pace as he murmurs in your ear, lightly biting on your earlobe.

"Not when you're this close."

And you let him, hugging him as he sets a brutally fast pace, pounding into you roughly.

He manages to bend his legs, pushing himself over you as he forces you on your back once again.

He’s biting onto his lower lip as he fucks you, listening to your moans and gasps.

“Cum for me princess, let me feel you,” he says, squeezing your throat just enough to cut the oxygen off.

You don’t realize you’re drooling and Niki’s hips stutter. You feel him spill in you, and the sensation bringing you over the edge.

You gasp, mewling and clawing at his arm as you cum.

Niki pulls out, catching his breath before leaving to the bathroom. He’s back with a warm rag as he carefully cleans you up.

You hiss when the towel touches your skin, the scratchy surface harsh on your sensitive clit.

You playfully hit Niki once you see he is smiling down at you, “you did that on purpose.”

The sun’s barely up when you pad into the kitchen, hoodie-swaddled and still a little sore. You’re pouring coffee when the front door clicks open behind you.

Sunoo walks in, mid-yawn, backpack slung over one shoulder—and stops dead in his tracks when he sees Niki standing shirtless by the fridge, sleep-tousled, sipping orange juice like he owns the place.

He blinks. Once. Twice.

“Took you long enough.”

You freeze. Niki chokes on his drink.

“Sunoo—”

Sunoo drops his bag with a thud. “For the record, I came home last night and heard... things. So I very kindly turned my ass around and crashed at Heeseung’s.”

You open your mouth. Close it.

“Wait—you’re not mad?”

But your brother just grins, throwing himself onto the couch.

“Do you know how annoying it was watching you two eye-fuck across campus for months? I was this close to locking you in a closet.”

You groan, covering your face. Niki snorts, pink creeping up his neck.

“Please don’t ever say ‘eye-fuck’ again.”

You glance at Sunoo, unsure.

“You’re really not mad?”

He looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“Why would I be mad?” He shrugs, grin softening.

“I know Niki. He’ll treat you right.” A pause. “And if he doesn’t—well. I know where he sleeps.”

Niki holds up his hands, grinning.

“Not planning on messing this up, I swear.”

You smile—helpless, smitten.

Because somehow, after everything, this all feels right.

Sunoo flops back dramatically onto the couch.

“Ugh. Gross. I liked it better when you were both repressed.”

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚Bonus scene: final perfomance

Backstage hums with quiet chaos—zippers, footsteps, low murmurs—but you and Niki are in your own world. You're smoothing out the sharp edge of his collar, fingertips brushing the line of his throat. He’s warm, breathing a little too fast, and watching you like it’s a challenge.

“You’re not even touching me properly and I’m already losing focus,” he says, voice low, teasing—like he's half-joking, but mostly not.

You raise an eyebrow, smirking as your hand drifts down to adjust the hem of his jacket. “Guess it’s a good thing I’ll be the one bringing you back to reality later.”

He leans in a fraction—just enough to make your pulse skip. “That sounds like a threat. Or a promise.”

You glance up, meeting his eyes. “Why not both?”

There’s a beat of silence, thick with everything unsaid, and then someone calls his name from stage left.

But he doesn’t move—not right away. Just smiles that slow, dangerous smile like he already knows how tonight ends.

The lights are low in the campus studio, just enough glow to illuminate the stage and the semi-circle of classmates watching from the floor. It’s the last day of the semester, final showcase. Your professor announces your names, and then the beat drops. “All That Matters” by Justin Bieber.

You step out onto the polished floor, heart pounding in time with the bass. Niki’s already there, waiting for you in a fitted black shirt, sleeves rolled, chain low on his collarbone. He looks unfair. Calm. Ravishing.

The music swells. You move.

It’s slow, almost hypnotic — all lingering touches and too-close footwork. His hand brushes your waist. You tilt your chin up. Bodies magnetized, orbiting, crashing.

When you straddle his thigh during the chorus, the entire room holds its breath. His hands settle on your hips like he was born to put them there.

You lock eyes.

And for a second, the world falls away. No classmates, no professor, no judging stares.

Just you and him — synced, electric, starved.

He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear.

“If I get hard during this, it’s your fault.”

You bite back a smirk.

“You’ve been hard since we walked in.”

He grins, dark and unrepentant, guiding you into the final step — a dip so slow and intimate it feels like undressing in public.

The song ends. Silence. Then—

Applause.

Cheers break out, someone even whistles, but you barely hear it. You’re too caught in the aftermath. Niki’s still holding you, one hand splayed across your back.

You whisper, breathless.

“I can’t believe we just did that.”

He leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“Believe it. And later? I’m reenacting every second.”

[sqgeism]

so i recently read a post about how aglaea represents divinity through humanity's flesh and blood and anaxa represents humanity through the mask of a porcelain doll.

Soooo this has got me very curious, how would anaxa react to his partner (reader) literally being the human equivalent of a porcelain doll? glassy eyes, long lashes, pasty pale/white skin. maybe they even visibly crack in response to stressors/trauma!! ive totally developed this into my own oc and would love to read your thoughts! ty as always

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐥𝐝, 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥, 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

love mail — hii :3 i'm alive again! i had (married) femme reader in mind but honestly could pass as (still married) gn reader ＼(^o^)／ i suuper love this concept nd i hope it lives up to your expectations, anonnie :D kiss muwa ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ also anaxa's is rly long bc i intended for it to be standalone but added the others in the end ;p they're all (except anaxa) rlly short sorry LMAOAOA characters in order : anaxa, mydei, phainon

from the day anaxa met you, to the day of your wedding, and every moment after — he's learned to be careful. he's always described himself as 'experimental', ready to do it all for the sake of knowledge and further understanding. but when he met you, he couldn't be that. he was fascinated with you in seconds, your porcelain skin was delicate, the kind that shatters because of hands like his. you were his opposite, and ever since he fell in love with you, his treasure.

anaxa had built some sort of.. habit with you. when his sister was alive, she showed him different hairstyles that she wanted. anaxa, the loving boy he was, tried his very best to learn. unfortunately, as you've come to know, he never got to really do them. his own way of healing from that grief was through you, when you first allowed him to brush your hair for you — he found himself tying it into a beautiful braid. he won't forget the glimmer in your glassy eyes, thanking him so softly that he was sure even his cold, dead heart was touched. you had that affect on him, always have.

but that joy was short lived, as when you smiled- your face cracked. his face drops and so does he, falling to his knees right infront of you as his hands cup your cheek. "what happened? does it hurt? how can i help?" there's a noticeable shift in that indifferent demeanor that anaxa's always seen with.

and that makes you smile more, but the emotion is so strong that it causes you to shatter more. anaxa won't deny that he feels himself a little flustered at such a beautiful display that is your smile, but the cracking isn't stopping.

he eventually learns that you two are alike for different reasons. anaxa's nonchalance to most situations is caused by the fact he's lost all ability to care, he's lost everything that's ever mattered to him — why care about losing anything more? it'll make him just hurt all over again. he never wants to remember what it's like to drown in emotion ever again.

but your still expressions are the way they are because you feel too much. an overbundance of joy makes you smile, pressuring your porcelain complextion and causing it to crack. same with stress, sadness, any form of emotion makes you feel like you're breaking. but you wish to experience every single one deeply, you want to turn into nothing but pieces just to know what it's like to completely, and utterly, feel.

but around each other, there is a balance. while you were used to a disproportion of emotion, anaxa kept you calm in every situation, but still allowed you to feel. you wouldn't crack, no, but you still felt your heart race every time anaxa kissed your fingers or ran his hand through your hair. and so, you can come to the quick conclusion that you allowed him to experience what you have had too much of. you bring him comfort, unease, and affection all at once and he's willing to indulge in it. he doesn't want to completely experience it all, but you let him worry just enough to make something else but a thin line and an empty gaze in his expression.

he adores you, really. he'd punish the stars for ever trying to rival the beauty that is sparkle in your eyes.

mydei's in a similar position, but if you allow him- he'd love to bring you around to meet the children. if you're at all insecure about the way you exist as a person, he's sure that they can help. they're too young to understand or villainize you in any way, they're just.. in awe of you. the same manner that he was. a big, life sized doll? with pretty clothes and brushable hair? they're all over you in a moments notice. and mydei adores every second.

he has his head on your lap while they brush through your hair, humming a lullaby while you sit there, unmoving but enjoying yourself in silence. the breeze is cool, the grass is green and the flowers that surround you, mydei, and the little ones make the scene feel straight out of a painting.

a warrior and his muse, his weakness, his heart. everything that you are mends perfectly into an emptiness inside of him, and you fix the scars that have lingered for him to heal.

phainon's in a similar boat, except he's like the children. he ADOOOORES you. buys you outfits every week, learned to do your hair, sits by your vanity mirror with eyes of pure and utter admiration as you do makeup.. he's soo enamored by you, it's insane. though he does tend to worry that when he makes you laugh (which is a lot, he appreciates it), you start to crack. they do eventually heal, but he's noticed you've become insecure about it. growing a habit of wearing veils or large hats to hide that beautiful face he adores.

he likes to call your cracks 'smile lines', since they tend to happen after you laugh or smile. it's a human thing, but he's trying to describe the similarities to you. he'll tell you that when humans smile all throughout their life, they get smile lines.. and while some are insecure about them, phainon thinks they should be proud. that the aeon's have given them the gift of so many happy, special moments, that they make sure all of the world gets to see it. that they know they've lived a good, happy life. and you shouldn't be ashamed of yours either.

nothing could shatter how perfectly imperfect you are to him. to phainon, you embody his every need and want.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 2

ftm yautja oc (Bhankui-ya) x male reader

Can Yautja be FTM? No idea, but this one can. Ive only watched one predator movie, so this is mainly just cooked up from my own imagination and attraction to Yautja, as well as the many fics I read. I used a generator for the name, so if it’s bad, blame the generator.

This is also more just “haha funny relationship between a yautja and his ooman” kinda vibes. very fun to write, i would love to write about Bhan again.

Mixed wording for the yautjas bits.

Kinktober 2024 masterlist

Dating a yautja was an… interesting experience. Bhankui-ya, or as you called him, Bhan, was no exception. But really, dating a scaley 8ft tall alien warrior who could rip your spine out of your body with his pinky really didn’t get any weirder. You were never gonna complain though, except for the times he would sit his entire weight in your lap, and you were left gasping for air. It wasn’t your fault that yautja weigh the same as three men of their size. You loved it though, and you had a feeling Bhan knew that.

How you came to date your partner, mate, as he called it, was another strange set of circumstances. You had a past of your own, and there wasn’t much left to live for. So, you had set out to take down the people who’d harmed you and your loved ones the most with you. Your body was littered with the scars they left on you, and your heart was covered in even more, aching for the siblings they’d taken from you. Be it from their abuse, or your siblings taking their own lives because of them.

It hadn’t truly registered at the time. You didn’t know what a bad blood was, or that Bhan was an enforcer. You just knew that scaley fucker, who was already missing an arm and hissing like a wet feral cat, was trying to take your kill goal from you. Bahn would later tell you, after laying in bed feeling like hed just drained the very life out of you, that you fought more feral than a kiande amedha fighting for its queen.

You still didn’t really know what that was, but you had seen skulls, trophies, Bhan kept of them. Apparently, they were a big deal, and seeing you acting like one got him wet. For some reason. But hey, you got hard seeing him cleaning his knives and spears, who were you to judge that he got heated up seeing you rip a bad bloods mandibles right out their face.

Anyways. In the end you came with him, since you’d “proven yourself” somehow. And having literally nothing and no one on earth, you just followed. You were no warrior or hunter, at least nothing compared to yautja. But you had a “look in your eye” in Bhans words, or rather clicks. The implant to understand him still itched at times. You just “needed to unleash it” whatever that meant.

Turns out the one place you can unleash this so-called power is in the bedroom. Because, where yautja may be the superiors in many ways, it seems in the way of the body humans were still more advanced. Bhan would tell you it was because “Oomans like you are controlled by bodily urges”, you just think he’s jealous you used to fuck a toy before you met him.

You honestly felt like you were on top of the world the first time you used a vibrator on his clits, because apparently his people had three. Seeing him rip holes in his seat and how he would arch, and roar made you feel euphoric, it had to be the same rush Bhan felt on a good kill. But instead, you got it from making him squirt so hard his legs were shaking.

You never got to live on that high for very long. Apparently Bahn liked to “peel you back down again” so you “didn’t get too confident”. Apparently, a confident hunter was a dead hunter, or something like that. It was pretty hard to think about his “lessons” when he was riding you though, his sheer bulk slamming down on your already aching human hips until you were making noises similar to the creatures he hunted when they were dying.

That didn’t stop you from stocking up on toys though. The next time you came to earth, you scrounged up money one way or the other, and immediately entered the best quality shop you could find. Bhankui-ya was off doing whatever he needed to do, and in the meantime you were trying to find out which wand would work on him.

The conversation with the store clerk was embarrassing, to you at least. They seemed quite entertained as you fumbled out that you were trying to find something that would work on your “taller than you can imagine, buff as hell and more dangerous than a tiger on steroids” partner. They were very helpful though, and even gave you some discounts and wished you luck on your way, as you stumbled out of the store with at least two bags on each arm.

It was only experience at this point that helped you remember where the ship was, since it was invisible and all that. But as you got inside you immediately clambered off to the bedroom, where you got to work. Bhankui-ya wouldn’t know what hit him when he got back, you would make sure of that.

Of course, you shouldn’t have been surprised when your mate came back beaten and bloody, but lugging the bad bloods head under his arm. You had gained a fascination with seeing the heads of his kills, alright? So, what if it made you morbid. And Bhan? He just seemed to almost preen as you oohd and aahd over his kill.

Patching him up was a couple’s activity, mainly just because you liked patching him up, and Bhan liked when you did it. He could have easily fixed himself up with the many tools he got as a yautja, but where was the fun in that, when he got to see his little blood thirsty ooman patch him up instead. Bhan did have to stop you from licking his blood up at times, lest he decided to ride you right then and there.

In the end you forgot all about the wide array of toys youd laid out in the bedroom, in the order you planned to use them on him. You sent Bhan on his way, deciding to be a good mate and drag his heavy as fuck armour and weapons off to where they needed to go for cleaning and polishing. It caused aches in your back, but Bhans purrs made it all worth it.

Walking into the bedroom Bhankui-ya got to see your little plan, and if the hunt and your pampering, as well as that flicker of bloodlust in your eyes hadn’t got him wet, then this did. How sweet of you, his little mate, to want to pamper him this way. Had you remembered it was your anniversary? (you hadn’t) how could he not use the gifts you set out.

Walking into the bedroom to see Bhan fucking himself with one of the toys, a vibrator against his clits made you almost pass out. Hed even worked one of the plugs into his other hole, his muscular thighs spread wide open as he purred in your direction, his noise like a siren call that had you stumbling over your own feet, almost making you eat floor.

Bahn had tried to laugh at your stumbling, but you were on his slit like a starved animal. It was only the fact that Bahn let you that you got the vibrator away from his nubs, mainly because he loved your mouth on him. It was just so much nicer to have a human eat him out than a fellow yautja, he had taken lips for granted his entire life.

Having just gotten back from a hunt left him more pliable, and willing to go along with your whims. Which was how you got four of those wired vibrators strapped to his thighs, and up his cunt, set to the highest setting as you fucked into his ass. The wand youd bought was worth all the money as well, as you used it to swap from one bundle of nerves to the other, Bhankui-ya howling loud enough that your ears were ringing. You wouldn’t be shocked if they were bleeding, but did you care? No, no you did not.

The adrenaline from his hunt, your powerful scent of want and hunger, and just the fact that Bhankui-ya didn’t indulge in other mates before you, left him sensitive and so needy, something you gladly abused any chance you got.

The bed needed to be completely replaced afterwards, but that’s how it went every time you got him like this. Never in your dreams did you think you could have someone as powerful and dangerous as Bhan, limp and panting, his entire body shaking and spent. Seeing his mandibles quivering always made your heart lurch, it felt like a symbol that you had done it all right.

Times like this were never about you or getting you off. But you also knew Bhan wouldn’t accept it if you didn’t get to finish too, so you always did it wherever he wanted it most. There was little chance of you two having offspring, mainly because Bhan had an implant that made pregnancy impossible. Because, unsurprisingly, yautja had even better prevention care than humans could ever dream off. You swore you heard him chirping about pups every now and then though, when you had him so wrung out that his eyes kept rolling back, even when you weren’t doing more than petting his torso.

Aftercare was also something Bhankui-ya could appreciate that came from humans. Yautja did care for each other after mating, but it was mainly just to patch each other up if it got bloody, or feeding the other food and water. Being rubbed all over and massaged was enjoyable, so you wouldn’t catch Bhankui-ya complaining.

You both knew you were gonna be the one shaking and limping in a few days though. He couldn’t let you get too confident, now, could he? Maybe hed even show you how some of the weapons he owned could be used in more… fun and creative ways.

[hansoeii]

Hello! Hope you're having a great day/night! I absolutely adore your art, you are one of my favourite artists. I love the way you shade and do backrounds. Also everytime I get into a new show I immediately see your art for it??

I was wondering if you had any advice on drawing more realistically (backrounds, anatomy etc) but still keeping a style?

Hey hey!

Thank you so much!

I have a pretty good understanding of facial structures, because before I got into drawing more semi-realisticly, I heavily focused on realistic portraits. Here are some example, these are from around 2019!

(yes, I was really into danmei and kpop back then, haha)

I just always loved drawing/painting faces and it was all I did. But at some point I realized that I wanted to do more than that because just portraits felt super restricting. So it took me around 2-3 years to somewhat find my style. Thought it would be fun to show a little timeline! Advice will follow afterwards :)

2020

I began working on my OCs in 2020 and since I didn't have an exact reference to work off of, I struggled a lot. My art from this year is super wonky.

2021

Still wonky, but the Lokius obsession was the jumpstart into finding my style! My work from this year is all over the place haha, I was experimenting a lot.

2022

This first ofmd piece is pretty much the first drawing where you can see where my style is gonna go, which I think is pretty cool! This is the year I made the biggest progress cos I was drawing SO much. These two pieces are only six months apart. The one on the right was the first time I gave drawing a background a proper go, too! It was a good year.

2023

And this is where I am now! I'm still constantly learning and improving, but I'd say I have a style you can recognize now!

Now here comes some actual advice, haha:

What I highly recommend you to do is to study your favorite artists as much as you can! I have like 5 A4 sketchbooks all from 2020 that I filled with sooooo many studies, where basically all I did was look at artists I like and copy how they draw stuff, to try and figure out how to stylize certain things. Some of my favorite artists are Ami Thompson, Velinxi and TB Choi. But I also liked to just scroll through pinterest and study all the art I came across that I liked! For example, if I saw a really great drawing of a pair of pants I would copy it many times in my sketchbook and try to learn how they stylized the folds. Doing this for a prolongued period of time will naturally improve your own work! It'll be difficult at first, but you gotta push through, it's gonna be worth it!

I also highly recommend studying unique faces to try and avoid the same-face syndrome. Find some cool looking people and try to draw them as simple as you can! Maybe even draw a little timeline where you first draw them as cartoon-y as you can, and keep going until you end up with a more detailed, realistic drawing. Maybe in the middle of it you find a step that feels the most fun to you, so you can try to build on that! It's a great way to figure out what kind of style might be the best for you.

Here are some cool faces I found on pinterest!

I have a pinterest board with many more!

One REALLY important part of learning how to draw all kinds of things is to understand forms and shapes and how to manipulate them. I have so many pages in my sketchbook filled with just shapes that I drew from all kinds of angles without any references.

This is a great video on it:

6 Ways to Draw Anything by Proko

Learning how to do this is so crucial! Young artists often think they first have to learn all kinds of detailed anatomy before doing anything else, but all that's gonna do is make you tired and hate drawing. Shapes are where it's at! Once you understand how shapes work and which ones to use for certain parts of bodies or objects, drawing is gonna get so much easier! Once you understand them, you can get into details such as muscles and bones!

And honestly the most important point is to just absolutely love what you're doing! I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't for the fact that I get extreme hyperfixations on certain media that turn me into some kind of beast where I can suddenly draw 10 detailed illustrations a week, haha. Just be passionate about what you do, find something you REALLY love and go crazy!

I really hope this was somewhat helpful! My inbox is always open if there's any more questions :)

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

the tortured poets department

a story told in multiple parts

vi x reader

Info Post

Moodboards

Next Part

Contains: college au, dark/light academia, writer reader, singer reader, neurodivergent/autistic reader (i’m autistic so i’m writing from my own experiences), sporty vi, hockey player vi, big sister caitlyn, best friend ellie williams, roommate ellie williams, will contain other familiar characters you know and love as well as some potential ocs. no use of y/n, reader does have a name because it’s just easier for me to write that way 🖤 ALSO- Jayce is aged down because I want him to be 😌

WC: 4.5k

TW: talk of severe mental illness and brief mention of psychiatric facilities

A/N: chapter one is officially live! if you’re just stumbling across this and haven’t checked the main info post yet please do for more info! hope you enjoy! 🖤

part I

you’re on your own, kid

Whenever most people got acceptance letters to Oxford they were ecstatic, elated, overjoyed. Somehow whenever I got mine all I felt was a sense that I had failed. It was a juxtaposition of course, it was always expected from my family that I attend the same university they had and every other generation before them had. So in a way I had done the opposite, just maybe not in the right order, and a hefty amount of rejection letters in my midst. Including the one currently being held in my shaky hand right now.

Ms. Kiramman,

Thank you for submitting your manuscript to our publication house. Unfortunately right now we are unable to offer you an opportunity for further publication.

“Please, they wouldn’t know good literature if it hit them in the face.” Caitlyn scoffed from her spot next to me as the student shuttle jostled us in our row of seats.

“Is every other publication house that denied me unable to recognize good literature as well?” I whispered from where my cheek stayed pressed to her shoulder.

I know what a lot of you were probably thinking at first glance, but Caitlyn was a good big sister. She was harsh, severely left brained, exactly everything our parents wanted in a child, and quite possibly the polar opposite of me. But in all honesty she was my best friend. My biggest supporter whenever my parents weren’t. It was her who had harassed all of those literary agents to even get me the chance to submit my works to publication houses in the first place because I was too scared to do it. And it was I who failed every single time.

“Yeah actually, they are. Honestly Mills, there’s so much trash in modern day poetry right now you might be better off.” She sighed, reaching a hand over to click my phone off slowly as the shuttle rumbled to a stop. “This is you!” She tried to plaster on a fake cheery voice with a pat on my back as if to get me to finally lift my head where my cheek was already an irritated red for being hid in her sweater.

“I still don’t get why you couldn’t just let Ellie and I take the extra room in that big student house you just moved into.” I huffed, lifting a hand to readjust my glasses before rising up to my feet and reaching for one of the suitcases carelessly tossed on one of the adjacent rows of seats.

“Because lovey, you need to make some of your own friends. This is uni, Millie, we’re both in completely different colleges and I just- I don’t want you to get too lonely.” She frowned, glancing back at me as she rolled the other suitcase behind her. “You guys don’t wanna room with a bunch of upperclassmen anyways.”

“I do have my own friends, I have Ellie.”

“As much as she is a great roommate, friends besides Ellie, it’s good to have more than just two whole people on campus to talk to.” Caitlyn pressed on just before striding towards the entrance, leaving me feeling like I needed to speed walk just to keep up given the fact she was nearly a foot taller as well.

The student apartments were definitely nicer than the usual underclassman dorms. In all honesty I really should’ve been grateful, it was just another luxury of being a Kiramman. Whenever your parents paid for half of the buildings on campus you usually got better accommodations. Not that either of them originally liked the idea of me even rooming with Ellie. A loudmouthed foreign exchange student from America I met during another one of those incredibly expensive wellness retreats my parents sent me on to see if they could find a ‘cure’ for what was actually just a heavy amount of autism and severe ADHD.

The only person who really seemed to understand that there wasn’t one and it was just simply who I was was Caitlyn. To a degree as much as she could at least. Sometimes though I could tell she forgot.

“I think Ellie said she beat us a while ago.” She chimed in as we approached the door decorated with a slightly chipped gold number.

“She got here early because of hockey stuff.” I answered, already bouncing on the balls of my feet to see how she had managed to make the flat into a sea of chaos already. She wasn’t exactly the cleanest person, luckily her energy seemed to mesh with mine easily enough though.

“Oh! You never mentioned she made the hockey team! I know a few girls on the team you could probably talk to.” She shot a hopeful smile back at me before lifting a fist to knock on the door.

It swung open before she could even make a second tap to reveal a frazzled looking Ellie haphazardly clutching a hockey stick. “Thank God you’re here! I was trying to practice my swing and- fuck, we are so not getting that deposit back, Millie.”

“Oh dear god.” Caitlyn cursed, already wincing in dread before stepping through the door into the messy flat. “I’m sure our dad can- do something. What did you manage to break and why on earth did you decide practicing your swing indoors was a good idea?”

“For your information I didn’t break anything! There’s just a- tiny dent in the wall.”

I hummed a bit to myself as I stepped over the plethora of unpacked bags currently covering the floor. “It’s definitely more than tiny.” I chimed in as I poked at the noticeable dent in the drywall.

Caitlyn released a long and heavy breath and shook her head, as if to try and keep herself from making her own dent in the wall. “It’s totally fine. I’ll just- say that it was there whenever you guys moved in!” She shrugged with another anxious clear of her throat as she pulled my luggage in behind her. “Which room is free, Els?”

“Oh, I gave her the room in the front. I know she likes it dark and the lighting in there sucks.” Ellie answered as she shuffled off behind us. “There is one window in there that can get pretty killer in the mornings.”

I tensed a bit at the sight of the double window facing towards the bed. Yet another one of the aggravating little quirks that came with my neurodivergency, light sensitivity. As far as I could remember I always preferred the darkest of places. And now Caitlyn was cursing again, rushing towards me to take my hands into her own as if I was already on the verge of panic.

“It’s okay- I can get you a pair of a blackout curtains asap and you know how dreary it is in Oxford anyways-“

“Caity- it’s fine. I’m not going to have a meltdown over a window.” I interrupted her ramble with a shake of my head. Sometimes I felt like she still thought I was that same teenage girl that didn’t have a handle on her emotions. Not that I was far from it exactly. Now I was just an almost 20 year old girl who had a slight hold on her emotions. That’s what the writing was for.

Her eyes still held the same amount of concern though, getting that same little crinkle in between her brows as she nodded. “Okay, I’m still getting you blackout curtains though.”

“They’ll definitely be appreciated.” I said with a forced tiny smile.

“Well, I really wish I could stay and help you unpack but I have a meeting with the Brooks Society and everything but… I really do hope I’ll see you both tonight at the pub for fresher’s week?” She grinned hopefully once more as she squeezed the life out of my hands.

“Oh, I-I don’t know. We’ve barely settled in and-”

“I’m down.” Ellie chimed in from behind me as she trotted back into the door frame. “I’m gonna be relishing in the fact I finally don’t need a fake.”

“Ellie…” I groaned as I shot her a glare over my shoulder.

“What? Mills, it’s the first day of fresher’s week, we might as well be committing a crime by not going out tonight!” She exclaimed with a dramatic throw of her hands in the air.

“It’s true, and as much as I would love to keep you away from my degenerate friends, well, it might be good for you.” Caitlyn agreed with another casual shrug.

“You’re not gonna give me a choice, are you?” I questioned causing her to shoot a knowing look towards Ellie over my shoulder.

“Probably not.” She answered before stealing a look down at the expensive watch wrapped around her wrist. “Well, I’ve gotta go but… you’ll text me if you need anything, right? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t because of what I said earlier because you always can I just-“

“Caity- it’s fine. I’m fine, I promise. I- I’ll see you tonight.” I stammered in hesitation, and I’d definitely be hearing about it later. But luckily right now she seemed willing to just let things go.

“Okay, good… great. Now- get in here, pipsqueak!” She exclaimed, the familiar nickname she had been calling me since she hit her growth spurt and I yet to do so making me roll my eyes as she pulled me into a tight hug. One of those sisterly hugs I always clung onto a bit longer. Ever since I was younger no place had felt safer than Caitlyn. And in so many ways sometimes I looked at her as being more than a mom than our actual mom. I knew I needed to find other safe places though. “I love you, you know that right? I promise. This is going to be a good thing.”

“I love you too, Caity.” I sighed softly as I felt her lips press to the top of my head before the two of us pulled away.

“Els, take care of my baby sister or else I’ll have your head on a stick? Got it?”

“Crystal?” Ellie finally spoke up again with wide eyes as her hand made the ‘okay’ symbol.

“Good.” Caitlyn spoke before trotting back off towards the front door, “I’ll see you both tonight and send you the details.” And with a charming smile she was headed out.

Ellie instantly let out a shiver the moment the door closed. “Has anyone ever told you that your sister’s scary as fuck?”

“Many times.” I answered simply just in time to see Ellie’s face fall ever so slightly.

“So, I’m guessing it was a no from the latest publication house?”

“How could you guess?” I frowned as I slumped against the wall like I was going to resign myself to the floor.

“You had that aire of discouraged defeatism whenever you walked in.” She explained as she sidled up to me. “Cheer up, Mills, modern poetry is so cringeworthy nowadays you might be better off going for songwriting anyways.” She added as she gently rubbed at my clothed arms.

“If I can’t even get a publication house to take me seriously then what makes you think I can actually get a songwriting deal?” I spoke as I finally pushed myself off of the wall.

“One of the most popular songs out right now literally has the lyrics, ‘that’s that me, espresso’ in it.” She rolled her eyes a bit to herself as she finally knelt down to grab the bags she had still yet to unpack.

“No Sabrina Carpenter slander in this apartment, Williams. You know I’m an OG. And I can relate to desperation.” I frowned in embarrassment as I crossed my arms across my chest.

“Yeah yeah yeah, come and help me unpack, will you? Maybe we can find you something to wear tonight.”

“What’s wrong with what I have on?” I exclaimed almost in mild offense as I gestured towards the outfit that definitely had been hastily picked out. But it wasn’t like it wasn’t cute- ish at least.

“Nothing, but care bear sweaters and leggings seems more like a comfy day outfit than a ‘going out to the pub’ outfit.”

“I thought it was going to be a comfy day until you completely blew my cover!”

“Sorry babe, but I agree with your scary as fuck sister on this one. You need to get out more. Experience the pleasures of fresher’s week and you can take that in any way you want!” She shot a wink over her shoulder as she made her way down the skinny hallway to kick open her own door where a brutal floor to ceiling window already angrily cast its light on the room causing me to flinch.

“We could always pretend to be girlfriends again if you want people to leave you alone in a, you know, romantic way.” Ellie added as she rushed across the room to pull the curtains shut and pat the empty space on her bed. Probably the only time it’d actually be made all semester.

“Nah, if we do that too many times people will know we’re lying so best not to even start.” I answered as I took a seat on the side of her bed.

“Well if that’s the case, how does this shirt look with… this flannel? What do you think? Chick magnet?” She grinned before whipping out a red and black checkered flannel from the mostly empty closet and pulling it on over the basic black band tee she already wore with a flourish.

“Maybe if they’re emo?” I said with a little shrug as I scanned the band logo on her t-shirt causing her to groan in defeat.

“Still… somehow… always chronically bitchless.” She voiced before plopping down on the squeaky university issued beds. Though we were at least lucky enough to have double beds, it definitely wouldn’t leave anything to the imagination if either of us decided to do any nsfw activities in them. Somehow I didn’t feel like we’d have that problem though.

“Shush, you’re not chronically bitchless. You have me!” I teased as I gave her shoulder a playful shove where she dramatically flopped onto her back.

“So bitchless then?” She reiterated with a lifted brow as she glanced over at me.

“At least you’ve actually managed to kiss a girl once or twice.” I scowled as I inched over onto my side. Already catching myself pulling closer towards her.

“Just so we’re clear, I did offer.”

“Yeah, only to get your first kiss out of the way.” I scoffed, though I curled up to her either way. Closing my eyes as I placed my head on her chest I hadn’t realized how tired I had felt in the past 24 hours. They had been rough, a sea of anxiety and those exact meltdowns that Caitlyn was afraid of me having and her not being there to talk me down from.

“And? The offer never stopped standing.” She spoke just before I could feel her arms wrapping around me.

“Good to know, Els, I’ll let you know if I ever need to get a pity kiss from my best friend.”

“Oh shut up, it’s not a pity kiss. It’s me doing you a solid.” She remarked, as she nudged my foot with her leg. “You manage to get any sleep last night?” She wondered just before letting her hands trace soothing circles on my back. I only shook my head as I felt the sting behind my eyes before I could even take any steps to stop it. The way you felt whenever you were already on the verge all day and someone finally asks if you’re okay. Curling my fingers into her flannel the annoying tears already soaked into the fabric of her shirt. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

A shake of my head only followed, I didn’t know how to put anything into words really. How to explain to people that just wouldn’t understand no matter how much they meant well and wanted to. How was someone even supposed to explain the fact that you were one of the most celebrated families of the most prestigious university in England yet somehow you still felt like the only person who didn’t belong here sat on top of a mountain of rejection letters? Perhaps you could rather easily. But to actually say the words ‘I’m pretty sure I only got in because I’m a Kiramman’ were a whole different story. It’s why I took all those years off in the first place. I wanted to delay the inevitable of my dad paying off the admissions directors again while staring at me with the level of disappointment he never had to with Caitlyn.

I hadn’t even realized the simple tears had turned into full out sobs until I heard Ellie’s gentle shush from above me and her arms holding me even tighter to her chest as she did so. “You’re gonna be okay, Mills. I promise. We’re gonna be just fine.”

~

I hadn’t even noticed I had dozed off until my eyes cracked open again, noticeably faced away from the window and tucked underneath Ellie’s covers. My glasses sat propped up on her bedside dresser already casting a noticeable blur of the world around me. Meanwhile hushed voices seemed to speak from out in the hallway, walls much too thin to hide the noise.

Fighting back a yawn I shoved myself up onto my elbow to wipe at my dysfunctional eyes before stretching a hand out to pluck my glasses from the nearby table. Though I only jumped as the door was pushed open and Caitlyn’s tall figure popped up into view. “Hey pipsqueak, Ellie told me you weren’t feeling the best after I left.” She said carefully as she grabbed my glasses to hand them over.

“I wished she wouldn’t have.” I grumbled as I slid them onto my face only to hug my knees to my chest and glue my eyes to the bedsheets below.

“Why not? Isn’t that exactly what I told you to do? Mills, I would’ve stayed-”

“But- I-I don’t wanna keep you from your responsibilities anymore, Caity!” I exclaimed with a frustrated groan, already digging at my eyes again while my head only throbbed from the aftermath. “I don’t want you to have to tell this really important college society that you can’t be there for your obligations because your mentally ill sister needs you to rescue her again!”

“You are my responsibility, Amelia!” She snapped, the use of my rarely spoken full name making me wince as she pointed a stern finger at me. “You will always be my number one priority because I’m your big sister and it’s my job to protect you, no matter what. And I don’t care what kind of deep shit I get into with the criminology department, okay? Because you come first, always!”

I tried to gulp back the same pathetic tears, but it turns out after you cry yourself to sleep for the millionth time maybe there really is a limit. “I didn’t miss anything, did I?” I spoke up after a moment of silence, feeling Caitlyn’s arm stretch around my shoulder as she took the spot next to me.

“No, but I did do some thinking and if you really don’t wanna go then I don’t wanna pressure you.” She frowned, almost looking down in mild guilt until I leaned my head against her shoulder.

“No… I do. I wanna go and make friends and new experiences and- t-try to be normal.”

“Lovey, you are normal. It’s the world that isn’t.” Caitlyn frowned as she leaned her head against mine. Thankfully she only hesitated a moment though before she cleared her throat and spoke again, “If you wanna go though we should probably start getting ready. If you want me to help you?”

“Maybe you can help me figure out what to wear? And do my hair in those little braids with the clips? And help me with my eyeliner?”

Caitlyn snickered a bit as I lifted my head from her shoulder. “The eyeliner might be a little tricky but I can certainly try. Are you forgetting the prom incident where I quite literally gave you an eye infection?”

“That was definitely just because of the glitter.” I shrugged before swinging my legs over the side of the bed and finally pushing myself up to my feet.

“The eyeliner pen straight to the cornea certainly didn’t help.” She reiterated.

Despite the various complications of having two not at all femme lesbians help me get ready though, I don’t think I looked too terrible afterwards. I had settled on a simple black dress that fell just above the knee with little bows sat atop the straps. English autumns could either be comfortable or frigid though and the current temperature definitely wasn’t comfortable so Ellie tossed me one of her blue flannels to wear over top. Of course claiming it’d be a calling card for all of the hot lesbians, if they didn’t assume we were together first.

Calling the pub a ‘pub’ in an of itself was definitely generous. Besides the one or two older people having their relaxing evening out ruined by the loudmouthed 18+ filling the joint it felt more like a club than anything. Music blasted from the speakers as we stepped inside, Caitlyn on one side with a protective arm around my shoulders and Ellie on the other who looked more and more like she was never returning to America by the second.

Caitlyn immediately dragged us downstairs where most of the students had taken over. It wasn’t hard to figure out which group of friends were hers. It was the largest one, who had currently swallowed the entire center of the room it seemed filling up leather stools and couches with red decorative pillows. “Oi! Cait! Over here!” A familiar voice echoed from the large group, popping his head over everyone and waving the lot of us over.

“Jayce? I thought he finished his masters last year.” I tried to speak over the noise where Caitlyn wrinkled her nose in response.

“He did, guess the old man just can’t get enough of us.” She answered, giving my arm a comforting squeeze as she pulled me along beside her.

The group was probably the most eccentric lot I had ever seen as we approached the cluttered table. Covered in empty and full beer bottles and other fruity drinks along with half burnt out cigarettes. A spread of tarot cards belonging to a skinny girl with the longest and brightest blue hair I had ever seen was currently being scooped up as well causing my eyes to widen in curiosity. A chorus of Caitlyn’s name followed as usual, the usual life of the party whenever I wasn’t there and she didn’t have to babysit. I had almost managed to successfully tune most of the chaotic noise out though until I heard my name followed by the tightening of Caitlyn’s arm around my shoulders once more.

“Lads, this is my baby sister, Amelia. Treat her well or else I’ll kill you slowly and painfully.” She said with a little grin just as a stool was pulled out from where a pink haired individual sat manspreading on the plush couch.

“Have a seat, cupcake, we don’t bite.” The girl smirked as she sat forward almost curiously. Also an American.

“I especially mean that towards you, Vi.” Caitlyn’s expression morphed into a glare as she watched me cautiously lower myself onto the seat like it was going to give out below me any second. “Oh, and this is Ellie- Ellie Williams. Also a fresher. Ellie, Mills, this is… Jinx, Ekko, Jesse, Dina, you obviously know Jayce, Abby-”

“Bitch.” Ellie mumbled underneath her breath causing my eyes to widen for the thousandth time as she took the open seat next to me. “She totally knocked my lights out during practice today.”

“You have to have at least one light on to have them knocked out, Williams.” The muscular woman stated as she brought a glass of amber liquid up towards her mouth.

“Wow, didn’t realize hockey rivalries on the same team were a thing.” Caitlyn fought back a laugh as she went to take an empty seat of her own.

“Oh you have no idea.” Ellie grumbled a bit to herself as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Williams? She yours?” Vi cleared her throat as she nodded in my direction.

“Who? Amelia? I-I mean I wouldn’t complain but we’re just friends.” She answered immediately causing Vi’s eyebrows to lift.

“So- no intense feelings you guys are harboring or anything?” She questioned again as she stole glances between the two of us.

“Unless there’s something she’s not telling me?” Ellie wondered with a lifted brow as she looked towards me as if in confirmation. And it was then I realized how tightly I was clutching onto her hand below the table.

It wasn’t as if the two of us hadn’t thought about it. It wasn’t as if I had spent a solid number of nights in her bed whenever things got really tough. Ultimately though we had decided what we had as best friends was far too intense or precious to fuck up over a relationship. And also just the sheer fact that dating somebody you met in a psychiatric facility disguised as a ‘wellness retreat’ was probably a bad idea.

“No, just best friends.” I answered in a small voice with a simple shrug.

“Okay, so you won’t mind if I buy her a drink then?”

“Careful Vi.” Caitlyn growled from her spot on the couch across from her.

“Ummm, can you buy me a song on the jukebox instead?” I asked, and to my surprise a series of impressed sentiments filled the table. My eyes only furrowed in confusion however as I peered towards Ellie or Caitlyn for help, “What?”

“Because Millie, that was smooth as fuck.“ Ellie answered almost drawing a little laugh from my end.

“Lucky for you, doll, I can buy you both.” Vi spoke as she held a bruised hand out for me to take.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel any butterflies blooming in my chest at her words. The feeling of my heart kickstarting as I placed my hand in hers and let her lead me towards the bar. Her hand was warm and rough in my own, calloused but not in the way Ellie’s were from the constant plucking on her guitar. They were calloused in a far more aggressive way. I should’ve known I was heading towards my own demise in that moment. Falling down a hole I’d lose myself entirely in. An electric pull on my heartstrings that kept me close to her.

Fuck, I should’ve known it was only the start.

A/N: I AM SOOOOO EXCITED TO GET THIS UP!!!! I wanna know all your thoughts!! Tell me everything!! I’m so so SO beyond excited to write more of this I’m screaming!!

Also- psa I know a ton of characters don’t talk/aren’t really in this one. I promise they will be further on! Just need to get an establishing shot first! 🖤

-> Next Part

[factual-fantasy]

27 Asks! Thanks y'all! :}}} 🦅

@neo-metalscottic

AAAA Thank you so much! :DD I plan to experiment for now but will tackle some SERIOUS redesigning once I've finished the show.. If I ever get that far <XD

Now for Sea Spray, I had completely forgotten about him! <:0 I will DEFINITELY find a way to bring him back, Same for Starscreams brothers! I knew they existed in other medias and kind's wondered why they weren't in prime..

Since Starscream never mentioned them I guess I thought they just weren't written into the show.. but now that I know I have GOT to bring them back! >:))

(My latest transformers post) (Or were they referring to this one..?)

Currently I'm on episode 10, but I hope to watch the next 3 episodes either tonight or tomorrow night. :0

I cant remember much of what's to come,, so I guess up to this point my favorite has to be the Scraplet episode.

Althoughhhhh I remember an episode where Bulkhead was holding up this cave ceiling and Miko was running out of air below. I can imagine that episode is full of angst and will probably be my new favorite once I get to it <XDD

The only Ironhide I'm familiar with is the one from the Bayverse movies :0 I always wondered why they changed him from red to black in the movie when a red version of his alt mode exists...

(Referencing this post)

XDD Friendship is my favorite kind of ship!

@samcat71470558

I'm doing a bit better today. I slept the whole day away and my symptoms lightened up a noticeable amount :))

Also thank you so much!! :DDDD

I have already made like 20 transformer OCs with varying alt modes, but if I were to make one more? It would probably be an old rusty mercury woody station wagon with the nickname "Monty" for no particular reason

I can confidently say without a doubt that out of ALLL the fandoms I've ever been in, Transformers characters have been the absolute hardest to draw. And they still are to this day! <XDD

(Referencing this post)

Noooooo don't break any glass you'll make my headache worseee 😩

Thank you so much!! :DDDD

I don't now how he got under there but this man has been positively squished 💀

(Referencing this post)

My pieces will probably just evaporate and I'll regenerate more, I'm to lazy to go and collect all that goop <XDD

Honestly? The bots being old and tacky cars would help them blend in soooo much better then being these fancy sports cars that are strangely COVERED in dents, scratches and dirt.

Which is why I'm giving everyone a new alt mode and redesigning their root mode to match

@smithanonsworld

I cant guarantee I'll eat that much, but I DID get a lot of sleep! :) Just like the bumney.. 💞💞

Thank you so much! And a happy belated Valentines day to you as well! :)))

And while I cant eat soup or chocolate- take comfort in knowing that I slept the whole day away and knocked out like 30% of my cold symptoms XDDD

@chaotic-public-menace

I feel powerful..... 💪🍎

AWW!! :DD Thank you so much!! 🥰🥰 Er- wait- *You're welcome so much!! :DDD Wait that's also not right either-

*I EXPRESS JOY AT YOU 👍💞

I don't think they would ever pluck his bones off and go play with them, but Jangles has absolutely popped his hand off and thrown it at someone when they say "Hey can you gimme a hand with this?" XDD Which would give Cici the opportunity to steal the hand and run away with it XDDDDD

I can see Fazbear Entertainment having to make some kind of parody song or at least change up a lot of the words to make it kid friendly <XD

Oooooo that's a good question....

Uhhh....... well? That miiiight be Optimus Prime for me. I really like how the glass parts of the car (like the windshield on his chest) are visible instead of just disappearing into his body. Its a nice touch for some reason-

I also like his retractable mask and how his upper body is red but his head and legs are blue. Its just a fun change in the coloring style that most of the other bots have :)

One of my favorite parts of Primes design has to be the exhaust pipes coming out of his back and poking out over his shoulders. I don't think I've drawn it myself yet- but I LOOOVE the fanart those pipes inspired of an angry Optimus prime with thick smoke billowing out of the pipes. Such a cool scene and I wish his pipes smoked like that in the show 😭💔

@fawncr33k

I've been thinking a lot about Ko-fi.. it might be the best option of I cant get commissions to work <:(

@milk-powrit

I know that there or other shows that are connected to TFP.. I just don't know which ones <:( I think one is Rescue Bots....? Or no- was it robots in disguise..?

And yeah, that sounds about right for Shockwave <XDDD

Yeah that's what I had in mind at first. Someone just sends 5 bucks for me to doodle something for them. They're not paying me for the rights to USE it, they're just paying me to create it. Does that make sense..? <:0

AAA YES I DO LIKE WARFRAME :DDDD

I haven't played it in a few days, but I thiiiink I left off on Neptune..? I don't think I've made it very far in the story yet <:/

So far my favorite quest has been the vent kids K-Drive quest! :D I haven't completed it yet but its fun to blast around on the board and try to land various tricks XDD

Also I didn't catch any kind of stream, did I miss some important info? <:0

A guitar hero warframe is coming out?? :0 That sounds kind'a nuts-

And lastly- I hope you have fun with Valkyr! :)) She has quickly become on of my top favorite frames 😾

1: Bill Cipher because I hate him and also I can easily see myself grabbing him by his feet and absolutely flinging him XD

2: Gerald because he is immune to fall damage and it would be very funny

3: Sky: Children of the light crabs

4: All the players in sky that have suddenly become extremely rude and inconsiderate during the season of Radiance are very yeetable

5: Starscream from Transformers Prime

(Link in ask)

They'd have to censor a lot of the adult words like "drunken" when they sing it around Red XDD

@starrygirldrawsx3

I've heard of Rescue Bots but never dove into it.. maybe sometime I'll try it out :0 Thank you! :)

Also- Happy belated Valentines day!! :DDD

[diam1nd-arc]

this comes without saying, an outstanding number of people have reached out to me w/ similar experiences ranging from gaslighting, misogynistic behaviors, guilt tripping, manipulation, love bombing, and blatant disrespect in many forms of uncomfortable messages from yes, apollo.

i had no idea just how deep this rabbit hole went, i was completely fooled from someone i deeply cared and was reminded that everything was fine and supported, and honestly i thought i was going to just let it be. but with over 17 concerned muns coming forward to share their experiences, i for one need to air out these concerns.

despite beginning to feel more comfortable, this whole situation has me in a spin. i want this to be my peace, and for all of those wanting to know the real reason my prev blog was deactivated and blocking the person who is the curator of this anxiety.

my experience was being lead into a single ship scenario because they felt intimidated by one single blog that my emma interacted with in a usfw manner. mind you, no relationship or feelings attached and i was writing with this person before developing anything irl with him. but for some reason, they were self-inserting ME as my muse, doubling it as an act of cheating on his muses, and made him uncomfortable as a person who has claimed to been deceived in that manner themselves. my immediate response was a voice call to help calm him down and reassure that everything was okay and that i am not emma, and i am not involving myself with that muse or mun in any sexual/relation based manner. it was by his recommendation that single ship would be better so that this problem would never resurface or would not have to worry in the future. at first, and i say lead because, i wasn't 100% for it at first. it felt a bit unfair because i am fully aware that i am not my muse, and this is fictional writing. but to avoid another "im deleting my blog" scenario guilt trip, i talked myself into agreeing with the single ship, to which became a reasonable standard with my blogs. when it came to making an official post, it took an incredible amount of pushing to get him to do that, and now that i really know why, is he was messaging many people for additional ships that he didn't want me to know that he wasn't honoring his end of this agreement. this past weekend, he decided that single ship wasn't good for him after i finally confronted him about the unfairness and well, here we are. me, a sentimental person, wasn't okay with going back and forth, especially when i changed how i write my own muse to better suit someones comfort levels. which is confusing to me because the initial complaint from him was he was annoyed with how people only want to ship with his ocs, all the while bad mouthing others (my friends) who partake in usfw writing. i know for a fact, if i would of agreed to go back to multiship, another problem would of popped up even tho his solution was to blacklist usfw tags so he didn't 'see' anything, despite still reporting to me on the same muns blog he had issues with. i feel it's a grab for control. and i asked him, with an open mind, how is it fair that i am to accept all of this change when he is not? me deleting for my sanity because, honestly, "now you know how i felt when emma fucked bucky" was never going to be resolved soundly. this was a grab to forcefully make me feel bad indefinitely because he didn't like something. it's possessive behavior. i was constantly told how he was going to delete everything then turn around to blame me for everything; then i asked if he could part ways with tumblr with me, and i was met with more gaslighting. this is fictional writing, we should have never gotten to this point.

there's another the issue where someone confronted him about graphics being in mirrored likeness, which i never saw myself because he wanted to keep it a quiet. said person has reached out to me and confirmed that he too tried to guilt trip them into deleting his blogs and blaming a de*th as for reason for stealing inspiration, even after claiming to change theirs in his likeness. i won't go into detail about his personal life, but i've never heard that as a reason why, especially when he's claimed to using this type of style long before this loss occurred. i did make a post via a rant, supporting one of my friends in a similar situation but he also knew very well it was also in his defense. we were on voice call, again, and he knew the moment i posted it and asked me to delete it the next day because he claims he resolved the issue. which i found out is not true. if you're going to admit to someone you stole something, why lie to me?

another mun in particular came out to admit to me that he was flirting with her, and has asked him to stop a number of times due to her being actually married. but once another callout resurfaced for them, in their experience he flaked out on being their friend because of fear of being affiliated. basically, i'm not going to allow you to pretend you don't know me online, and then try to be my friend behind closed doors in dms. when asked if he knew about these two people, the answer i got was "i saw a callout and that's about it." i'm glad she stood her ground on that because i too, felt like a secret.

more instances were brought to my attention whilst we were 'dating', he was also love bombing and getting attached to others very quickly while entertaining the idea of ME. i've been shown a history of unsolicited affection and desire for shipping his muse with everyone with a pulse and getting attached to all of these muns as well. to me, this is was shocking to learn about while you were pointing the finger at me accusing myself of blatant cheating. not once did he ever tell me anything felt forced, but that he needed me, felt lost without me.

from what im gathering from all of these muns, we were all manipulated to believe someone who claims is a charming gentleman, has the capabilities to gaslight and make you feel incredibly bad about feeling a certain way, or even stating how something was making them uncomfortable. many were fooled as i was, trying to comfort someone who clearly had a complex to receive attention from as much people as possible without them even knowing a bit of backstory. pinning people against people. these additional muns that came forward TO ME, have all explained the same level of discomfort they felt in dms with him directly. it's honestly beyond words to explain how deep this goes. i'm not going to list every single encounter thus far, because honestly.. this would be far too long and i want those others to make their peace.

i do not plan to release screenshots publicly because that's not who i am. but just know, all 17(and counting..) of us have a collection for those who want the truth. i want this post as an urged warning to be careful, no witch hunts or hate. curate your space as you see fit. i sincerely hope that those that are still by his side, do not get the treatment that we all got. i tried my best to resolve this with him privately, but was met with aggression and mockery, and now as i'm being told, pretending nothing happened.

..and because i know he will read this, for the record, i could of handled a simple break up / mutual parting ways. i'm a grown woman that would of accepted that, but you took this way too far. you've played a part in me feeling insecure about others when i shouldn't have, you selfishly kept me in your corner and made me feel in the wrong about so so many things. where you now display as we were forced. you played the blame game in attempt to get me to question my sanity and awareness of what was really going on. i didn't get a choice. im glad you were finally able to be honest to me, but i only wish you would of told me sooner. thankfully this was short lived. i never pinned you as this type of person, but good lord.

my discord alongside many many others is open to show every bit of proof we have for reference, or to just talk it out. please be safe.

[sl-vega]

[ 💌 ] - KISS, KISS, FALL IN LOVE! - 600 follower event!

-> message from vee!

hi hi! so, after about a year-ish(?) of being on tumblr, you guys have helped me reach 600 freaking followers! words cannot begin to express how grateful i am (and how sorry I am for making y'all wait for this event-) for everyone's support! and due to basically delaying this event since i've reached 300 followers, i've decided to make three events total for y'all to enjoy!

🍓 EVENT ONE; build a shoujo !

-> in this event, send me info about your selfship/oc x canon (via ask off anon or dm!) , and in return i'll make a concept for a shoujo/romance anime series for them!

you give me:

your preferred name/oc name

preferred pronouns

your f/o / character you wanna request

dynamic

hcs about your relationship

any specific genre you'd want/genre to avoid

any particular au as well?

and any other info!

in return, you get:

a customized netflix header just for you!

a mood board for your series

a synopsis of the plot

head canons about your show

what I think the op and eds for your series would be!

a personalized playlist!

-> rules:

this only applies to the fandoms I write for, if you don't know what I write for, check my request rules post

this is only for my followers! (no follow no service since this IS dedicated to all of them after all)

i would prefer if you sent me your info via dm, but if you would prefer to do it via ask, it must be off anon!

only one series per person!

please include as much info as possible! (makes my job a LOT easier)

🪽 EVENT TWO; smau-ing for dummies !

-> so I mainly got my semi amount of fame on here due to my genshin smaus, and I thought I may as well impart my wisdom onto aspiring smau authors because lord knows I needed someone like that when I was starting out!

rules:

ask me whatever you want!

^^ must be smau related ofc

be nice in my ask box/it might take me a while to answer if I'm busy so don't spam me with the same question!

even though all my longer smaus are genshin ones, my advice is meant to be generalized! even if you aren't a genshin author don't be afraid to ask me!

i'm not a professional writer by any means, so don't take my advice as if i'm an expert! I just want to help some newer authors/writers who want to try something new learn from my past mistakes/experience!

even though this is part of an event, you can honestly ask me for tips and tricks whenever you want!

🌸 EVENT THREE - about the author !

-> despite being on here for a while, I feel like I don't really talk about myself that much, so I decided to make a little ask game to help my moots/my followers get to know me a little better!

ABOUT VEE! - ask game !

🌸 - surprising fun fact about yourself?

💌 - fandom that people don't know you're part of/ would be surprised you're part of?

💖- your oldest fandom + your newest one?

🍓 - a hobby you really want to get into but haven't?

🪽 - favourite anime?

🧸 - fictional character that you relate to the most?

🌹 - favourite movie?

💄 - favourite video game?

🌺 - something you wish your friends/moots would get into

🌷- songs you have on repeat?

🍉 - artists you've been listening to lately?

🪷 - favourite blog theme you've had so far?

💮 - blog theme ideas that you have planned for the future?

🪻- favourite work that you've written?

🍬 - favourite Pokemon?

🍭 - random pet peeve?

💝 - your ideal romantic partner?

💐 - your favourite character to write for?

💞 - an underrated favourite character of your's/one you like but don't talk about a lot

🦄 - wild card! ask me whatever you want about myself (within reason)

divider creds to: @anitalenia @dollywons @h-aewo

-> THIS EVENT WILL PROBABLY RUN INTO THE END OF MARCH, DON'T BE AFRAID TO INTERACT/PARTICIPATE!

🍓 tagging: @shrii-kk @freyao7 @analiee6 @thetwinkims @bellflower1257 @blvdmrcnry @bloukoup @yuan1819 @fishii28 @yourstrulymauki @fungaltoehehe

[starheirxero]

PLEASE become evil on main your thoughts are always very interesting !! :3

Anon I need you to know I was debating just only making that one post and then biting my tongue about the rest but this ask was genuinely so relieving to see that I teared up a little bit thank you HDKSHDJD

I did, however, uhm. talk a Lot. and I'm very much being more honest about my feelings on this than I usually am, so it's going under the cut bdjshdjdnf

Ahem ahem. So. From a meta standpoint? I just have a very, very weird feeling about what's going on with tsams now that they've Also changed Lunar's name. The only information we have on what's happening is from Discord, where Kat mentioned it wasn't her choice to change Earth's name and the mods reassuring everyone that the changes are for a good reason. I've been seeing theories that the changes are to make them more sellable for merch? But I,, don't fully know why they'd have to change their own OCs for that? So idk

From a story perspective though? It doesn't make sense and it's just another vein of Lunar having no choice in what happens to them.

Just because Libra asked "do you accept this permanent name change?" doesn't mean that "no" was a valid answer, because then what would have happened? They say "actually, I like my name, Lunar feels fine" and then what? The astrals, of which are famously judgy and pushy, say "okay, we'll continue to call you Lunar then! (Even though we just said that Lunar is an unfitting astral name)" like?!?!!??? And Lunar just immediately goes home to be like "uh. I guess I have a different name now? and I don't wanna deal with two names, so just call me Cosmos too."

They didn't make this choice. And honestly! They couldn't have because Lunar wouldn't have ever changed their name of their own volition!!! You can't tell me that Lunar—the character who is known for trying to cling onto a sense of identity so hard that it causes more problems for them in the long run—would be willing to let go of their own name? That is the one thing about them that actually hasn't changed since the beginning, the one thing that's consistent in the face of everything.

Plus, on a more personal note? I had an experience with my old username where everyone was calling me a nickname derived from my url instead of my actual chosen name, and the realization that only one person was calling me my actual preferred name made me have a messy identity crisis. If Lunar wasn't just, a character who is unfortunately the subject of bad writing lately, this choice would probably hit them at some point. They'd probably have that same awful, dreadful feeling of "oh god. no one even knows me."

It's just. Earth made sense because she at least gave her own reasons. She said "yeah I'm tryna be my own person now, so I'm Terra!" but Lunar's reason was just "uh. Libra gave it to me sooo.... 👍 yup." Like. augghhh. They could have gone by both Lunar and Cosmos too if the writing wasn't being so weird but !!! ugh. deflates. it's whateverrrrr

[jellytheteawolf]

Finally sharing the OC mini comic I made a year ago for the xianxia oc zine Jade Reverie!

Honestly some of my favorite comic work I've done.. there are a lot of areas for improvement, but overall, im very happy with what I did

Pg 1: two highschoolers, a middle aged corporate cog, and a military veteran find themselves trapped in a strange, fantastical dimension. The corporate worker seems to have had experience with this phenomena before

Pg 2: a talking bone fish arrives, introducing the microdimension they're trapped in as a "temple" while referring to the people gathered as players. The bone fish is recognized by the corporate worker as the guide for this temple instance.

Pg 3: many many miles and 2 whole dimensions away is Zhen Jiyue, the jiao dressed in black, who is revealed to be the one speaking through the bone fish. Unfortunately, the medium he uses to scry and connect across space time has shattered under prolonged stress/overuse.

Pg 4: yueyue turns to sanyin, the girl in light colors, demanding her to fix the shattered medium. Sanyin on paper is his support and loyal partner, but the reality of yueyue's demanding job and poor emotional regulation leads to a much more strained, animosity filled relationship.

Pg 5: sanyin does fix the medium, with much reluctance, and expresses her irritation (she is mute). Due to the time sensitive nature of yueyue's job, she does not put up much of a fight, but nurses her long-formed resentment towards yueyue.

After yueyue regains control of the bonefish + subsequent situation in the temple, he's calmed down enough for the guilt and shame towards how he acted to surface.

Yet his own inner conflict is not enough to inspire him to change. It seems that, as of now, yueyue embodies the sea that is his domain, forever isolated in abyssal waters.

Leftover sales are open for the xianxia oc zine btw... go buy now..

--

I think this is the first time I shared anything substantial abt my ocs/comic story wip on tumblr? I mightve shared my minotaur art but it's not a comic.

Anyways this universe/story wip is unlimited flow based, thus pulling references/inspo from various lit, mythology, etc etc. Yueyue is 蛟龙 while sanyin is 鲛人. They're not related by blood but are forced to live in the same abandoned underwater kingdom together/forced to have some kind of relationship with each other, which takes the form of coworkers + boss and underling + maybe siblings on a good day.

Misc oc doodles: yueyue, tj, qy, tj as a gecko

[gophergal]

Perhaps an obvious one, but for the ship ask game – HeavyMedic? :3

"What do you mean, obvious?" I ask dumbly, looking at my laser engraved HeavyMedic coaster

What made you ship it?

Funnily enough, I do this thing when I'm considering getting into a fandom where I just kinda peruse as much of the fanworks as I possibly can. Probably very common. I saw that Heavy and Medic were a popular ship, looked into why, was rapidly convinced. Definitely helped by the similarities they have to my other Main Ships from previous fandoms.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

I'm a sucker for ships that are dangerously devoted to each other. Mostly when they're dangerous to anyone who threatens their beloved. They make each other better, have one another's back, serve as a center point of the team. I think it's really beautiful how their popularity isn't just based on secondary source material (the animations and comics), but also the gameplay itself! A good Heavy/Medic duo in game is a force the whole team can rally around, and- honestly? I've got quite a few scenes in mind inspired by Heavy/Medic pairs I've seen in game (none I was part of though lmao. Forever alone medic main)

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

HEAVY IS NOT AN ACCESSORY TO MEDIC. THEY ARE EACH THEIR OWN CHARACTERS. THATS WHY THE SHIP IS SO NEAT. I can't STAND fic where Heavy's entire character boils down to "I Love Doktor <3". If you write it, thats fine, but man. I love Heavy, if I didnt like him as a character I most likely wouldn't be shipping Medic with him. Heavy CANONICALLY shows discomfort towards some of Medic's antics. Not only is is totally fine if they experience conflict on that front, it makes the ship more interesting. Let them argue and question if their relationship is going to make it. They dont need to be Goals to be worth shipping (though they certainly can be. Both Is Good is what I'm trying to say) While Red Oktoberfest is my favorite merc/merc pairing and I'm thus biased toward them, PEOPLE CAN SHIP HEAVY AND MEDIC WITH OTHER CHARACTERS. Even OCs. I know thats not specific to this ship, but by god do I see people try to enforce that "Heavy/Medic is CANON so you have to ship them". They are not canon. Makani's artwork that wasn't part of the published comics is Non-canon. The VAs' shipping them and making (psuedo official???) fanworks, despite how FUCKING COOL that is, doesn't make it canon. In the comics, SFMs, and games they are not explicitly shown to be or described as a couple in a romantic/sexual sense. Now, the ship is LAMPSHADED (alluded to by the creators) frequently. Which is fun! And they are meant to be close! But I feel like this very much a K/S situation. Yknow, since Gene Roddenberry was like "well, if I want Captain Kirk to be popular, then I have to make people associate him with Mr Spock, so now they're besties" then that close friendship and deep devotion read as homoeros to folks and was later alluded to by other writers of the source material? I'm not saying it had the same motivation. I don't think this was meant to be a way of making either Heavy or Medic more popular, but I do think Valve originally just wanted to depict them as a Duo. A well oiled machine. Doing so makes sense, given it mirrors how they work in the game. But over time they realized that fans picked up on homoeros undertones, and not wanting to alienate either the fans who saw HeavyMedic nor the homophobic fans (as alienating either would cut into their profits/cause a backlash), Valve began walking the tightrope of shipteasing, but not being too explicit I dont want to call it queerbaiting, because really? It's not used so much in the marketing. But it is kinda a frustrating thing to see. But uh, long yap short. I suppose my most unpopular opinion is "Red Oktoberfest isn't actually canon, even though it easily could be"

[angelickks]

the max interceptions: how to ruin a girl’s love life in three (overprotective, armed) steps

warning(s). John Winchester. Overprotective family™️. probs one or two sexual innuendos if u squint. light swearing. a dismal love life. canon-typical violence. mentions of alcohol (honestly what’s new?). max dating an archivist. overall shits n giggles once again i had a shitload of fun writing this. don’t mind me pushing out sm content i rlly love max synopsis. Now Max isn’t one to fully doubt her boys, in some moments, yes. But when it really mattered, it was highly unlikely. Now she knew the men in her life were wildly overprotective, albeit armed as well, but she expected the same “I stay out of your sin-filled shenanigans, you stay out of mine.” and god was she proved wrong.

#NAV.ᐟ supernatural mlist ⋆.˚ oc! max winchester

MAX'S OFFICIAL UNOFFICIAL 21ST BIRTHDAY

Midnight. Bar outside of Lawrence, Kansas. Some poor bastard who the gull to hit on Max ran out the door, all thanks to the calvary showing up right behind her in the form of three stubborn, foul mouthed Winchester men.

John chuckled gruffly

“One day, kid,” he said, “some poor bastard’s gonna think he can survive you. And when that day comes... I’ll buy him a drink. Just before I give him a fifteen-minute head start.”

Dean snorted.“Better make it ten.”

Sam just shook his head. “That’s generous.”

“Oh you guys got jokes tonight, huh? Ha ha” Max laughed dryly.

Now Max isn’t one to fully doubt her boys, in some moments, yes. But when it really mattered, it was highly unlikely. Now she knew the men in her life were wildly overprotective, albeit armed as well, but she expected the same “I stay out of your sin-filled shenanigans, you stay out of mine.” and god was she proved wrong

If anyone knows anything about Max, is that she hates being wrong…

Here are the rare times she truly was

────────

THE WALK OF SHAME

4:37 a.m., back hallway of a dingy Kansas motel. Dim lights. Creaky floorboards. The stuff of nightmares—and awkward family encounters.

Max thought she was in the clear.

Boots in one hand, jacket in the other, hair a mess, and her black tank top inside out. She padded barefoot down the hall like a cat burglar who happened to smell like whiskey and sin. The door clicked behind her—the guy was passed out cold. Thank God.

"Smooth," she whispered to herself. She just had to make it ten more feet to her room. Ten. More. Feet.

Then the door at the end of the hall creaked open.

Dean.

Coffee in hand. Shirtless. Disheveled. Confused. Squinting like a dad catching his daughter sneaking back in after curfew.

“...Really?”

Max froze like a raccoon in the trash. “Fuck off. Go back to bed.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, glancing at the boots in her hand. “You doing a charity shoeless walk or is that just part of your kink now?”

“Oh bite me.”

He just sipped his coffee. “Gotta say, you’re not very stealthy for someone who can’t be sensed by supernatural forces.”

She growled low in her throat, ready to hurl a boot at his face when—

Sam emerged. Fully dressed, hair neat, holding a book.

“Dean, why are you—” He saw Max. Blinked. “...Oh.”

“Oh?” Max echoed, voice cracking with incredulity.

Sam looked like a disappointed professor who just walked in on a bad science experiment.

“Do I even want to know?”

“No,” Max deadpanned. “You want to pretend this didn’t happen and go read about ancient sigils like a good nerd.”

Dean snorted. “She’s got a point.”

Max took one step forward—and a third door opened.

John.

Holding a half-loaded shotgun and a flask. Because of course he was.

“Someone better be dead,” he said groggily, eyes landing on his daughter mid-walk-of-shame. Pause. Narrowed stare.

“…You serious?”

“Oh my God,” Max hissed, looking skyward. “I’m gonna kill all of you.”

John looked her up and down, then past her toward the door she’d come out of. “Was he at least human?”

Max threw up her hands. “I’m not that reckless.”

Sam coughed into his hand. “You once made out with a warlock."

“That was for intel!”

Dean grinned like it was Christmas. “Was it, though?”

John muttered, “Oh jesus fuckin’ christ Max."

Max turned on her heel and stomped to her door, muttering curses under her breath. As she opened it, she glanced over her shoulder.

“Don’t. Say. Anything.”

Dean was already lifting his coffee in salute. “Mornin’, sunshine.”

John added, “Tell lover boy to get out before checkout. Or I’m charging him for breakfast.”

Sam just said, “Want me to ward the hallway? Next time you sneak out you’ll trip an alarm.”

She slammed the door shut so hard the hallway light flickered.

Ten seconds of silence.

Then Dean looked at John. “Think she likes him?”

John shrugged. “He’s still breathing, so… maybe.”

Sam just sighed.

────────

THE GAS STATION INCIDENT: DEAN EDITION

Dean’s just trying to grab snacks and gas up the Impala when he sees a compact car pull away from behind the next pump. The driver? Some pretty-boy in a Henley.

His eyes narrow.

A familiar denim jacket lies crumpled in the backseat. Max’s.

Dean nearly drops the jerky.

He casually strolls over, pretending to check his tires. Sees the guy fiddling with the aux cord, grinning like he just made out with the devil.

Dean knocks on the window.

“Morning, sunshine. You got something that doesn’t belong to you.”

The guy stammers, “Uh—I think—uh, Max said it was cool—”

Dean just smiles. Real slow.

"Listen. You can hook up with a girl like Max. Or you can live a long, uneventful life. You don't get both, dumbass."

The guy drops the jacket. Speeds off. Leaves his receipt still hanging from the pump.

Dean returns to the car with Max’s jacket, throws it at her.

“Next time, at least make ‘em buy premium.”

────────

THE COFFEE CUP CLUE (SAM EDITION)

Sam finds it during a food run. Motel trash can. Two cups.

One’s Max’s usual. Black, extra cinnamon.

The other? Hazelnut swirl with almond milk.

Suspicious.

He casually brings it up at breakfast. “So… your coffee tastes changed?”

Max doesn’t look up from her eggs. “Nope.”

“Because unless you suddenly went vegan, you had company.”

Max slowly lifts her mug. “Might’ve been a one-night drifter. With good taste. And a tongue piercing.”

Sam chokes on his toast.

“Jesus, Max—”

“What?” She shrugs. “I’m a grown woman.”

Later, he tells Dean, who nods like a grizzled war vet. “We need to start screening her dates like we do haunted houses. EMF and all.”

────────

THE LOCKER NOTE (JOHN EDITION)

Max thinks she’s slick.

She tells them she’s off for “library research.”

What she actually means is: steamy rendezvous behind a bar with a mechanic named Eli, who smells like oil and regret.

But she forgets to remove the evidence—his note, stuffed in her gear locker. Scrawled in grease pencil: “You kiss like trouble. Call me.”

John’s the one who finds it while checking ammo.

He reads it twice.

By dinner, he’s leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, saying, “So… this Eli kid. That a new contact for demon lore or just another guy who’s gonna end up hexed because he couldn’t keep it in his pants?”

Max throws a biscuit at his head.

“Is this really necessary?” she mutters.

John just smirks. “Sweetheart, I raised you. I know that ‘gonna ruin someone’s life’ look.”

────────

THE ONE THAT ALMOST GOT AWAY: A WINCHESTER ROMANCE (SURVIVAL TIME: 3.5 DAYS)

His name is Jonah. He’s an archivist. Like, literally. Wears tweed, glasses, and smells like old books and oak polish. Max meets him while breaking into a restricted collection at the University of Chicago. He's in there cataloging cursed manuscripts. She’s in there stealing one.

They both reach for the same tome: Diabolus Collectanea, 12th-century binding, potential death curse inside.

He freezes. “You’re not faculty.”

She grins. “Nope. I’m much worse.”

Jonah lasts a whole three days before the family catches wind.

Day One: Max doesn’t say anything. She comes back to the motel with a tiny smile and a book she didn’t steal. Sam notices immediately.

Day Two: She hums while cleaning her knives. Dean knows something’s up.

Day Three: John finds a tweed jacket that doesn't belong to either of the boys. Dean almost chokes on his beer.

By the evening, Max slips out for a “walk.” She ends up curled against Jonah under a library skylight, listening to vinyl records on his portable player. He kisses her like he means it.

Max actually thinks about texting the guys to say she’ll be late.

Mistake.

Jonah’s Doom Comes in the Form of a Diner.

She brings him to breakfast, thinking a public space will dull their edge. Mistake #2.

John is already there, sipping coffee like judgment incarnate. Dean is spinning his knife into the table like a loaded threat. Sam is being polite—too polite. Dangerously polite.

Jonah holds his own. Offers to pay. Compliments Max’s hexwork. Knows the difference between a curse and a binding sigil. Even impresses Sam by correctly identifying an ancient Norse glyph.

Then he calls her “Mad Maxie.”

They all freeze.

Max’s smile drops.

Jonah notices a second too late.

“You… call her that often?” Dean asks, slow drawl.

“I—I thought it was cute—she told me—”

Sam covers his face.

Dean leans forward. “Listen, Jon. We let a lot slide. But there are two things we don’t play with: souls and nicknames.”

That night, Max tells Jonah it won’t work.

Not because she doesn’t like him. But because he’s not made for a world where the men in her life come with demon knives, bullet scars, and trauma encoded stares.

He nods, kisses her hand.

“You’re not just mad, Max. You’re myth.”

She almost tells him to run. Instead, she watches him walk away.

────────

bonus scene!

THE EX-FILES: MAX AND THE CASE OF THE VERY POLITE ARCHIVIST

Bobby’s Salvage Yard. Rain-soaked Texas evening.

Max slams the Impala door harder than necessary. Mud up her boots, duffel hanging low off her shoulder. She walks through the door with a permanent scowl, coffee in hand, and the rage of a woman who just ghosted a guy who owned more scarves than knives. She’s in a hoodie three sizes too big—Jonah’s hoodie. And she knows it.

Too late.

She doesn’t get two feet inside before it starts.

Dean (sprawled across the recliner, munching on jerky): “Oh no. Is that his hoodie?”

Max (dropping her bag without looking at him): “Don’t.”

Sam (barely suppressing a grin): “Wow. Didn’t know Earth-tone Enthusiast left you with a parting gift.”

John (arms crossed, leaning by the door): “Didn’t think you were the ‘date-a-scholar’ type. He knew what end of a shotgun was the barrel, right?”

Max (pulling off the hoodie, instantly regretting everything): “Okay. First of all, he was sweet. And gentle. And he used conditioner.”

John: “You dated a man with a 9-step skincare routine. You’re a hunter, not a house plant.”

Dean (leaning forward, grinning): “You know what this is, right? This is your ‘Sam dated a werewolf’ phase.”

Sam: “Hey!”

Dean: “She dated a gluten-free ghost whisperer. We all make mistakes.”

Max (grabbing a beer, aiming it at Dean’s face): “Shut it, asshat.”

John (raising an eyebrow):

“He wore slippers. To the front porch. In the rain.”

Dean:

“Slippers, Max.”

Max (glaring):

“They were house shoes. And he made me tea. Real tea. With lemon and honey and… kindness.”

All three men simultaneously groan.

John: “Man looked like a sentient co-op.”

Max (collapsing into the couch): “He was just... nice. For once. That’s all.”

Dean (softly, mock-serious): “And that’s why it didn’t work.”

They all sit in silence for a moment.

Then Bobby walks in, holding a dreamcatcher and Jonah’s forgotten satchel.

Bobby: “Someone get rid of this shit before I burn the place down.”

Later that night: They toss Jonah’s hoodie, dream catcher, and satchel in the fire pit. Dean toasts a beer to its slow demise.

Dean: “To Max’s taste in men: may it one day recover.”

Sam: “To Jonah: may he find peace in an artisanal tea shop.”

John (grinning): “To the next poor bastard who tries to date my daughter.”

Max: “You guys suck.”

John: “Buck up, sweetheart”

Post-Credit Scene: They find a box labeled “Jonah’s Favorite Crystals.” Dean salts it. Sam sets it on fire. John shoots it, just in case.

[gemharvest]

Okay hear me out (and I will forget I sent an ask in again 2 seconds later) RGB as crystal gems

PREFACING THIS ART WITH AN "I'm sorry I didn't lean more into the SU side of things" I am being so fr I don't wanna mess with trying to figure out more gem-like outfits for them so they're basically the same except with limited palettes and also gems. I don't think it's actually gonna matter to anyone but ANSJKNKDGJ if I don't open with that my brain will Explode. /lh

GO CRAZY GO STUPID AHHHHHH. GEMS. I'm going to have to put my bullet points under a read more just cuz I know I am about to fucking Go Off. grins

Girlfriend is a red diamond. Boyfriend is a peridot. Pico is a green spinel.

GIRLFRIEND:

Went with a diamond cuz of the status thing. I am almost worried it feels like too easy of a pull but I doonnn't care I think it'd be fun if she was a diamond. :) Red obviously because it's her color.

Playing off the status thing; ofc her parents would also be diamonds and so you can have the reasoning of "oh this isn't a high-rank gem" for them not liking Boyf. I mean if you need any reasoning aside from them just being unreasonable LOL but that's always there.

Placement on her chest because !! love !!!! That's also why it's a heart-shaped cut instead of a. Diamond shape.

My backup assignment for her would be a jasper because I think it'd suit her well to be any quartz, and with jasper you can get close to her reds !! The status thing is really what made me decide on a diamond tho.

As I type this I realize there are some vaaaguee similarities to Pink I could pull as extra reasoning but shruuuugs my brain is NOT in an analytical mood rn so I'll just let others chew on that for me.

This isn't really relevant to RGB but I wanna mention it: I think it'd be funny if the demon henchmen were rubies.

BOYFRIEND:

The biggest factor for me going peridot with him is the fact that a common headcanon for canon Peridot is that she's autistic and while I mostly work with ADHD Boyf myself (since that's the experience I can pull from personally)... I am a sucker for a good autistic/AuDHD read with him.

This man is short and Era 2 peridots are short. If I drew him SU style this guy would need limb enhancers. lol

Instead of a prohibition symbol his shirt has the outline of a star. I just find that neat. :)

He would sooooooo suck at a peridot's role but also iirc in canon he's a college drop out anyways so it cancels out. He's got that Greg Universe in him.

Honestly, I put his gem placement on the back of his hand bc I had no clue where else to put it. My secondary placement for it would be on his forehead bc it'd make me giggle with him being Dumb but canon Peridot already has the forehead placement so I didn't go ahead with that.

HE STOLE PICO'S GREEN SPOT. spritzing him with water like a naughty dog BAD BOYFRIEND.

PICO:

This is my little indulgent one I really. I really love canon Spinel. This is tangential but like I literally have 4 spinel OCs and then another 4 furry OCs with designs based on canon Spinel. The urge to make One Of Them a spinel was going to be there.

The juxtaposition of him being a gem with an entertainer role and also a hard-ass hitman makes me giggle. Idk I feel like if you already know canon Spinel then you can probably connect the dots as to why I'd imagine him as a spinel as well.

Heart cut because I find it cute and it matches GF. I think a spade shape could be fun too but idk I prefer just going with a heart. Placement on his upper back because. :) Because he can't easily shield it from damage that way. He has to be constantly aware of his surroundings, unless he wants to give someone the chance for an easy hit on him if they sneak up from behind. Little paranoia thing to fuck with him. I'm so nice to Pico !! :D

Bringing back the status thing with GF's parents; I can't help but giggle thinking abt them hiring him. Imagine you get recommended this really good hitman and you meet up and it's a fucking court jester. Fucking ego hit but DD needs the job done so he hires him anyways. AND THEN PICO DOESN'T EVEN CARRY OUT THE FUCKING HIT. Never hiring a clown off of Craigslist again. /JOKING

hits play on this and sits down with my head in my hands

OKAY BEFORE I'M DONE I WANNA MENTION: I made myself give them all gem assignments BUT I do think it would be fun if one of them was not a gem a la Greg and Rose. So I give you: regular canon demon GF and her two gem boyfriends. Takes a bow. (<- honestly might do something further with that for my own fun. teehee)

[yennefer-of-vengerbergs]

Masquerade

Kinktober 2024 - (an extremely late) Day 16 - Formal Wear (from this prompt list)

Rating: E (18+)

Pairing: Astarion x Syanna (my Dark Urge OC)

Well...this was supposed to be a quick little one shot, but instead of that, it just went completely out of control, with me adding more and more to it, and expanding a bunch of stuff. And honestly? I want to expand it even more 🤭So this idea will most likely end up being reused and even more expanded in my fic series too😁(at a much later date, but still, at least I have this written down for when the time comes). It definitely wouldn't be the first one shot I want to rewrite/reuse to incorporate into it at some later point either 😁

Summary: Astarion and Syanna attend a masquerade as part of their search for a way for Astarion to walk in the sun once more. After their successful search, and an evening spent teasing one another, they indulge in each other.

Tags: sexually explicit content, inappropriate use of spider climb ability, clitoral stimulation, handjob, vaginal sex, PiV, multiple orgasms, vampire biting, vampire spawn Astarion, established relationship, post-canon, post-game

Word count: 5.3k

Dividers from here

Tag list: @iizven | @bg3-fanfic-reblogs

If you want to be added to my tag list, please let me know in a comment or message!

Read below or on AO3. Comments are appreciated so please feel free to leave them and let me know what you think 💖

Life after defeating the Netherbrain had been intriguing for both Syanna and Astarion - after all, there were still plenty of adventures to be had, a world to travel, and their goal of finding a way for Astarion to walk in the sun once more had certainly taken them to interesting places. Unique even. 

Or, simply put, it had allowed them to experience things they hadn’t had the chance before, one such example from those years being the masquerade that they found themselves in need of attending. 

Thrown by some noble or other, a collector of occult and magical curiosities, whose name they hadn’t bothered remembering, it was a lead on information that they needed, as well as a welcome change of scenery. 

And, if they were to be honest, it was also the perfect excuse for them to simply…dress up. Have some fun while they were there. 

Pretend to be the noble Lord and Lady Ancunín for an evening. 

At the same time, it was something which was not a common occurrence for them, and as such, they made sure that everything would go smoothly, planning their moves - or rather,  Syanna was the one who actually planned what would need to happen, from gathering any and all information she could on the layout of the estate during the day, to where they would need to go in the manor to search for the scrolls and books they needed, along with how to not get caught during the entire ordeal.

Astarion was still very much, ‘not a details person’, as he had always put it, hence why he hadn’t been as involved in that particular stage of their preparations. Even so, it did not mean that he did nothing. On the contrary, he was very much responsible for acquiring their invitations, which, quite naturally, he had done by pickpocketing them from someone who had been legitimately invited, during a night market, which he and Syanna had also coincidentally gone to. 

Then, there was also the matter of their outfits, masks and jewelry, which only meant that he had targeted the best stores he could find, his lockpicking tools granting access long after their doors had closed for the day, Syanna there with him, invisibility spells at the ready in case something went awry, which would have led to them needing a quick getaway. 

And he had been particularly pleased with the outfits that he picked out - his consisting of a dark teal jacket with silver embroidery and varying accents in a lighter shade of the same color, while Syanna’s was a dark green dress with gold accents and accessories throughout. Then, he chose gold jewelry and hair accessories for her, a pair of intricate ear cuffs, made of white gold for himself, followed by a pair of matching black masks, with precious stones and peacock feathers, as well as black ones framing them. 

He was absolutely certain that they would both look simply exquisite in them.

To complete their image of nobility, they also practiced certain mannerisms and habits that would allow them to better fit in for the evening, as well as a few dances that Astarion had picked up in his past life - a skill that had been required of him whenever he had to entertain palace… guests. Because of that, he had never cared for the activity since, but seeing as Syanna had no way of knowing whether or not she even knew how to dance, Astarion had taken it upon himself to help her with it.

As it turned out, they needn’t have worried much about that. 

“...now place your hand here and step…” Astarion paused, “Well, aren’t you full of surprises.” he noted.

Syanna looked at him, slightly confused.

“Why? Am I that bad at this?”

“Quite the contrary, my dear. I’m starting to think you’ve done this before.”

She scoffed. 

“Of course I did, because in between all the killing and plotting and the internal politics of leading a murder cult, there was plenty of time to dance around the temple of Bhaal.”

Astarion couldn’t help the giggle that left him.

“Oh yes, I can already picture it, you naked, covered in blood…”

“I thought this was about dancing.” she interjected.

Astarion gave her a pointed look for interrupting.

“…Dancing on an altar after a kill…” he sighed.

Syanna laughed, amused by how he seemed to be enjoying his little daydream.

Astarion cleared his throat.

“In any case, you’re no beginner. Rusty perhaps, quite rusty, if I’m being honest, but that’s nothing we can’t fix, especially with such a dedicated teacher as myself.”

A giggle left her as Astarion pulled her close. 

Finally, there was the issue of having to access the restricted area of the manor, where guests would not be allowed entry during the party, which only meant that Astarion would have another opportunity to show off his skills with lockpicking and - more likely than not - disarming traps. And, of course, Syanna would be at his side once more, ready to cast any spell they would require at a moment’s notice. 

With their plan in place, all that was left was to prepare for, and then attend the party.

And that had been a process all in itself. 

Using one of the many scrolls of Mirror Image that they kept a steady supply of, especially for him, Astarion carefully got dressed, paying particular attention to how everything fit and looked. 

Perfect as always, naturally.

And just as naturally, the mask complemented his outfit wonderfully, tying everything together. As for the finishing touch, he then added the pair of ear cuffs, which ran along the entirety of his ears, their design intricate, suiting him beautifully.

In Syanna’s case, watching her get ready had certainly been interesting, to say the least, from how she had summoned two mage hands, which were busy intricately braiding her hair - it still intrigued him, how she was always able to manipulate spells with such ease, and in ways that others versed in magic could not,  be it by extending their reach, casting them on multiple targets or by twinning them, suiting whatever need she had - to how she was carefully applying her makeup.

“Well, aren’t you a clever little multi-tasker?” he couldn’t help the little quip.

Syanna smiled, stopping briefly.

“Of course.” she turned to look at him, the mage hands following her movement, continuing their work. “You have to admit, it’s efficient.”

“Oh, certainly.” he agreed as he walked over to her. “And effective.”

“Hmm…” she looked up towards him, through her lashes, smiling softly, “Thank you.”

He leaned down to kiss her, distracting her just enough to cause her concentration to waver, both mage hands seeming to falter, as if they no longer knew how to go about braiding hair. Not enough to end the spell entirely, but it certainly made him want to tease her some more. 

Deepening the kiss, one hand brushing over her face before reaching her neck, his thumb gently rubbing the skin there, he was pleased to see how she melted into his touch, while her own arms went to wrap themselves around his neck. Pulling her up to her feet, Astarion drew her closer to him, his hands moving lower and lower over her body, enjoying everything about the moment they were sharing, from how velvety smooth the fabric of her dress felt under his palms, to how she sighed into the kiss, or how she pressed herself into him even more, wanting more of that closeness, and even the giggle that left her once his hands came to a stop on her ass, gently squeezing. 

“Really?” she couldn’t help grinning once she pulled away.

Astarion pressed another kiss to her lips.

“I don’t think you can blame me for that, love.” he gave her another squeeze, as if to prove his point, “You do look positively stunning in that dress, after all.”

“Why, thank you.” she was still smiling, “So do you. Very dashing, if I do say so myself.”

A chuckle left him.

“I should think so, seeing how easily distracted you were just now. Or did you not even notice your little mage hands disappearing?”

Astarion was smirking. 

Of course he was. 

And of course he was right - she hadn’t really paid any kind of attention to what was happening with her hair, or the mage hands, once he had approached and started kissing her. 

She laughed at the thought.

“Would you rather I was entirely focused on my hair instead of you?” 

Astarion’s reply was to pull her into another kiss, more passionate than before, his hands moving over her once more, taking full advantage of the deep slits her dress had. Reaching her thighs, he lifted her into his arms, her legs instinctively wrapping around him.

“Do perish that thought, darling.”

Syanna giggled, delighted by the moment’s playfulness in its entirety. 

“I think you’ll be fine. It wouldn’t be the first time you manage to distract me like this.” 

And it most definitely would not be the last, if she knew him at all.

“Then why don’t I distract you some more?” Astarion suggested, a sly look on his face as he walked them over to their shared bed, setting her down gently on its edge, so she was sitting, one of his legs settling between hers, running his hands over her arms. “I already have some ideas.”

She laughed again.

“We’ll be late.”

“Fashionably late, darling. It’s only fitting, if we want to blend in for the evening.”

“There’s fashionably late, and then there’s the hours we’d be late if we do this now.” She countered, although unable to contain the smile on her face as he caressed her. 

“Ah, and here I was, hoping I would get to tear that dress off you now.” He pretended to be wounded by the thought of not being able to do so.

“Then we’d never make it there. Besides, I actually like this dress.”

Astarion waved a hand at nothing in particular.

“I’d steal you a new one.”

“Ah, my hero.” she grinned. 

“Aren’t I just?”

It was such a familiar exchange between them, and she still loved it every time.

“Then maybe you can hold off on ripping this off until we get back? And then-” she leaned up, pulling him into a brief kiss, “-I can spoil you in whatever way you want.”

Astarion considered it for a moment, before looking at her with that look that could only mean he was up to no good.

“Or, we could sneak away during the party itself.” 

Syanna giggled.

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

”When it comes to you, darling? Always.”

She brushed her fingers over his cheek, her affection clear in the small gesture.

“I’m flattered, truly.” a sigh left her, even if she was still smiling, “But I really should finish up my hair, see how much of a mess it is and all that.” 

Ever the gentleman, Astarion helped her back to her feet, his hand still holding hers as he led her back to the small vanity she sat at before. He moved behind her, then noticing that there hadn’t been much damage done, besides a loose braid that had mostly come undone.

“Here, let me.” he said, taking the strands of hair in his hands, undoing them completely before starting over, with him taking his time, enjoying that small act of comfortable intimacy between them. 

After all, small things like that, those little moments of intimacy, so casual, yet significant, were still among his favorite things to do with her. 

Not long after, he had finished the braid, securing everything in place with the golden accessory she had passed him when asked, which he followed by holding a hand mirror behind her, so she could see the result. 

Smiling, she turned around to look up at him.

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

Once he handed Syanna her own mask to put on, they were ready.

After their arrival, they bid their time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to slip away and into the restricted wing of the manor. While waiting for said opportunity, they, quite naturally, had also decided to enjoy themselves as much as they could.

So, they danced, something which they never had the chance to do before, each step, each touch, each twirl, each glance in time with the music, each teasing remark and joke they made adding to their enjoyment of each other’s company and of the evening. 

What a difference the right dance partner, the right occasion made for him. With her, it was truly enjoyable.

They also sampled the most expensive wines, with Astarion mixing in some of Syanna’s blood to his when no one was nearby to see, to make it more palatable. In Syanna’s case, she also enjoyed the food, trying and tasting whatever caught her eye, both savory and sweet. 

And it had all been exquisite, with each drink and item of food a delicacy.

They also listened in to conversations for anything that sounded interesting, be it just gossip or a slip up or more about valuables. 

A passing mention of expensive jewels here, talk of rare and magical artifacts there, the absolute scandal that two women spoke of in hushed whispers…It was all intriguing, or at the very least, rather entertaining. 

All in all, it certainly had been a fun evening for them, a very welcome distraction from their usual ones consisting of long travels and searches, or of completing whatever contracts they would take on for money.

Then, it had finally been time to make their move, which they hoped would end in a resounding success. 

And following that, it would simply be a matter of making their way out, unseen and unnoticed. 

“Be still, somebody’s coming.” Syanna whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Astarion stopped what he was doing as she then whispered the incantation for an invisibility spell, obscuring them both as a guard did his rounds, walking past them. 

Once the guard was far enough from them, Astarion resumed his lockpicking, dextrous hands making short work of the locked door in front of them, finally allowing them to quickly slip into the empty room, thankfully unnoticed, shutting the door behind them. Only then did Syanna drop the invisibility spell

Both looked around the large room, assessing it. Something between a library and a trophy room, there were plenty of shelves and display cases to go through. 

“Now, if I were something that had information about vampires walking in the sun, where would I be?” Astarion mused. 

“I’m hoping the answer is ‘in its own dedicated section’.” Syanna quipped. 

Astarion raised an eyebrow at that, to which she simply shrugged.

“What? It'd be better than having everything thrown in at random, wouldn’t it?”

He couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto his face. 

“I can’t say you’re wrong, darling. Maybe even a few direction signs to point us the right way.”

“See? Now you understand my vision.” she laughed. “So, what do you want to take?” she motioned in the room’s general direction, “Bookcases and shelves? Or the display cases?” 

“Hm, the display cases. Can’t have you clumsily trying to pick the locks, now can we, darling?” he looked at her smugly, teasing her about the time he had attempted to teach her how to pick a lock. 

Besides, there was a greater chance of the display cases being trapped, and he certainly would have preferred to be the one dealing with that risk, not her.

“Then maybe you should consider doing a better job of teaching me how to do it.” It was Syanna’s turn to smirk.

“Excuse me?” Astarion pretended to be deeply offended by her statement, “I will have you know, I’m a very dedicated teacher.”

She raised an eyebrow at that.

“Oh yes, you whispering filth in my ear was a very interesting lesson in lockpicking.”

“It’s an experimental method, darling.”  he retorted. 

She giggled in response.

“Of course, what else could it possibly be?” 

“Precisely.” Astarion leaned in, whispering to her, a hand brushing over her cheek and down her jaw, towards her neck.

So smug. With good reason. But so smug.

She shifted slightly, moving so that she would be looking at him, staying just as close to him.

“Well, my oh so clumsy self will be searching the bookshelves.” she leaned in, as if for a kiss, but stopped, “I wouldn’t want to distract you in any way, after all.”

She turned away, making her way towards one of the bookcases. She heard Astarion chuckle behind her.

“Cheeky.”

Syanna was certainly pleased with her search, having found the books she was looking for. Excited, she carried them back to where Astarion was. 

“Look what I found!” she grinned, lifting the tomes slightly, to show them off.

Astarion returned the smile, feeling the same excitement she did, or rather, even more so.

“Excellent, darling!” he continued to pick the lock of the last display case, “Give me just a moment and I’ll take those off your hands. They do look terribly heavy, after all.”

She laughed softly in reply, still giddy as she waited for him to finish. Moments later, the case was finally unlocked, with Astarion grabbing  what they needed from it.

“And…one more little souvenir...” he picked up the last of the scrolls from the case, adding everything into the bag of holding they had taken with them, before reaching for the books, “...now, let me take those as well…”

Once everything had been tucked away, the bag hidden in the pocket of his jacket, he pulled Syanna into a kiss, smiling and pouring all his affection into it as he drew her closer to himself, holding her there, leaving not even a semblance of distance between them. 

It was all so surreal to him, so thrilling, finally having promising information on being able to walk during the day once more. Even if he had learned to accept the shadows as a part of himself, it was still something that he missed and wanted to enjoy once more.

In their excitement, the kiss became more passionate, touches were suddenly filled with a need for even more closeness than before, with their hands roaming over each other, wherever they could reach, a need that was punctuated by how they gripped and squeezed and lingered. That, combined with the inherent risk of them being in a restricted area made everything all the more exhilarating, small groans of pleasure leaving them both as the kiss deepened. 

A sigh left Syanna as she pulled away, almost breathless. Astarion’s hands lingered on her as he went to kiss her neck instead.

“You know, darling, I think this counts as us sneaking away…” he trailed off.

She exhaled, an amused noise leaving her.

“That would be true, yes.”

Astarion hummed in further agreement as he moved, guiding her towards a wall until her back was against it, a small gasp leaving her as he pressed himself against her, one hand moving lower and lower until he could grip one of her legs, bringing it up and wrapping it around himself. 

“So…I was thinking we could take advantage of that…” he continued, leaning in closer, pausing when their lips were barely touching. 

Syanna nodded, her eyes half-lidded.

“We could.” she grew serious for a moment, “Is it-”

He kissed her again, smiling into it once more, before she could finish her question. He knew what it would be. And he loved her even more for it, something which always touched him, again and again, each time she would ask it.

It all made him positively giddy with excitement, which only made him want her more.

“Gods, yes.”

Syanna smiled as Astarion returned his attention to her neck, gently nibbling along it in between kisses. She, in turn, began to run a hand through his curls, gently letting her nails scratch along his scalp, enjoying the little hums of approval he let out at the sensation, all while her other hand came to a stop on his waist. A hum of her own left her lips as she felt Astarion lingering on a particular spot on her neck, especially paying attention to it as he kissed her there, his tongue teasing and licking, his fangs gently grazing, the question silent, before he uttered even a word. 

“May I, darling?”

She tilted her head to the side, fully exposing her neck to him.

“Always, yes…”

Placing another kiss on the same spot, he then bit her, his fangs piercing her skin, trying to be as gentle as he could, his free hand slowly caressing her, his touch soothing her. Even so, his bite still made her groan from the sensation, the pain mixing with the arousal that had started to slowly make its way through her. Her grip on him tightened as he drank from her, the leg he had wrapped around himself trying to draw him even closer, followed by her quickened breath, her racing heart, another gasp leaving her as she felt his own arousal growing, pressed against her as he was. 

Moments passed, and he pulled away from her neck, but not before applying slight pressure to the small wounds to stop the blood flow from them. 

Smiling, she looked at him through half lidded eyes before pulling him into a kiss,not caring and not bothered in the slightest by the taste of blood that still lingered on him. 

It all felt hazy, with nothing else mattering in that moment, only him and how he made her feel.

How tantalizingly close he was, pressing and grinding himself against her once he had hiked up the fabric of her dress, having moved it out of the way.

How he then went to run his fingers over one of her ears, making her shiver.

How, at some point she couldn’t quite pinpoint, his hand had left her thigh, instead slipping between her legs, lightly teasing her through the fabric of her lingerie, all while his other one made its way down from her ear to her throat, and lower still, until it reached her breast, palming and teasing and kneading it. 

How utterly breathless his kiss left her.

How their eyes didn’t leave each other, too caught up in one another as they were.

And, as was always the case, how she wanted nothing more than to reciprocate that, to spoil him in all the ways she knew he liked. So, she let her own hands roam over him, wherever she could reach, teasing touches lingering, insisting wherever he particularly enjoyed them. 

In turn, he was emboldened by it all, tugging at her underwear, moving it to the side before letting his fingers ghost over her. Teasing her for what seemed to be the longest moments, a soft moan left her when he eventually parted her folds, finally applying that exquisite pressure that he knew she enjoyed to her clit, followed by the way his fingers rubbed and then moved along her, making her moan yet again, something which was always most delectable to him. 

Wanting more of those noises from her, to see more of those reactions that always spurred him on, always adding to his own enjoyment, he began to tease her entrance. Humming in approval once he saw just how much of an effect he had on her already, he returned his full attention to her clit, rubbing circles on it as she moved her hips, chasing more of his touch. His mouth found hers once more, muffling the sounds of pleasure that left her as he continued to spoil her. 

And he so enjoyed spoiling her, lavishing her with his full attention whenever they made love…

So he did just that, his fingers continuing their ministrations, as he still kissed her, be it on her lips, along her jaw or even lower, on her neck until she was crying out for him, her climax having built and built until it finally washed over her, its intensity rippling through her as she held onto him, her grip on him tighter than before. 

Eventually, Syanna shifted slightly, letting her hands wander lower on him until they reached his trousers, where she began to tease and stroke him through the fabric, enjoying the way he groaned and pressed himself against her palm. Or the way he then moved towards her when she pulled her hand away, which only made her grin.

“Patience, love…” she teased, as she unbuttoned his trousers, lowering them alongside his underwear, finally freeing him. 

“You’re a-” another groan left him as she ran a finger along his length, with her then teasing his sensitive tip, “a cheeky little thing…”

“Only for you.” she smiled, kissing him as she carried on, spreading the precum that had already begun to gather before gently grasping him, her hand beginning to move along him. 

Slowly.

Deliberately. 

Intent on having him enjoy himself thoroughly. 

Listening to each moan and each sigh that left him as she continued her movements, pumping him in her hand, her thumb teasing his tip, her other hand on his chest. 

Astarion then took her by surprise - stilling her movements, he then gripped her, lifting her up, her arms and legs wrapping around him as he kissed her hungrily. 

He wanted so much more of her, to feel her warmth, her heat, everything that she was and that she would give. 

Pressing himself against her once again, he left no distance, no space whatsoever between them, wanting nothing more than that absolute closeness between them. 

And he kept moving in closer, kept pushing against her, until he was crawling up the wall and then onto the ceiling with her, something which made her let out a squeal, both surprised and delighted by the change, followed by the way she tightened her grip around him. 

“This is new.” she couldn’t help the grin that appeared on her face. 

“Well, I am a paragon of innovation, after all.” he smirked.

“Then-,” Syanna could only giggle, “-why don’t you show me what you had in mind?”

Astarion kissed her, his body keeping hers pinned against the ceiling, something which only made her moan softly as she felt him so close to her, his hips moving once more, grinding against her. 

Arousal gripping her once more, she moved one of her hands between them, reaching for his cock, taking and guiding him between her legs, to her entrance. Moans left them both as he pushed inside of her, so easily and so eagerly. 

Then, as he began to thrust into her, she found the sensation entirely different than usual, given their current position. While he was technically on top of her, it was also true that she was the one above him, which only made her want to meet his movements even more, eagerly matching his pace and rhythm each time, the intensity of it all enough to drive her mad. 

There were barely any coherent thoughts left in her, only the way that she focused on him, on each thrust and drag of him inside of her.

On how he too was starting to unravel, his movements becoming more erratic as he indulged in her more and more, his eyes not leaving her. 

How her body tensed, both from the sheer pleasure of it all, and from the strangeness of being on the ceiling, as if she was bracing for a fall at any moment. She knew that Astarion wouldn’t let that happen, that he would hold her there, safely and securely, she trusted him to do so, but the sensation remained all the same.

Then, there was the way in which the purr of his voice would bring him and only him back into focus once more.

“Eyes on me, love.”

She complied with his request, which only added to the overwhelming sensations and pleasure she was feeling. Seeing him that way, so genuinely enjoying himself, taking his own pleasure just as much as he was giving Syanna her own, hearing those amazing noises that he made in the moment - all the ways in which he would moan, or whimper, or groan - alongside the way he seemed to just want to bury himself in her until they became one…

It was electrifying, as if sparks would soon fly from the sheer fervor of it all. 

And he would not stop, making her moan so wantonly, louder with each thrust that reached that spot which always drove her mad, more and more, until finally, he brought her over the edge once more, with Astarion following soon after as his own release came over him and into her. 

Sparks were too insignificant a word to describe how they both felt.

Astarion couldn’t help the breath that he exhaled.

“Tell me something, darling…”

She looked at him curiously.

“...Why did it take us so long to try this?” he finished his question.

Syanna laughed.

“Well, you know they say, better late than never and all that.”

He hummed in approval, relaxing ever so slightly into her.

Then, he tensed up.

“Syanna, darling? You might want to hide us with one of your spells right about now.”

Nodding, she quickly cast an invisibility spell on the both of them just as the door opened.

The guard from earlier entered the room, muttering something about useless coworkers.

Astarion couldn’t help but grin at the man’s tirade.

“First that useless bastard forgets to lock this door, then there’s the weird noises coming from exactly this room…I swear, if there’s another possessed artifact here, I’m quitting tomorrow…Unless someone snuck in, then I’m getting fired tomorrow. Either way, good riddance.”

He then continued walking the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary, all while still ranting,  before stopping abruptly.

“You know what? Fuck this. I’m quitting tonight. If someone did sneak in here, good for them. And if something got stolen? That stuck up bastard had it coming.”

His mind made up, the guard turned around, leaving the room. Once the door behind him had closed and been locked - no doubt the guard covering his tracks - Syanna dropped the invisibility spell. Both she and Astarion were grinning before they burst into laughter.

“Well, goes to show what being a bad employer gets you.”Astarion quipped. 

Syanna was still giggling. She then cleared her throat.

“Good for that guard though. Now, let’s go, before someone less disgruntled decides to do the rounds.”

Agreeing with her, Astarion began to move across the ceiling and down onto the wall, with Syanna holding on to him for dear life, now that she was no longer distracted by him. 

Once back on solid ground, they both made themselves as presentable as possible before looking for a way to leave the room. 

After all, it wouldn’t do at all, to cause any problems for their friend, the guard. 

“I think the windows here,” she pointed towards the opposite wall, “actually face the gardens. With any luck, they won’t be too crowded.” she then turned to look at Astarion, “So I’m thinking we just fly out of here, and avoid anyone out there that way.” 

Astarion nodded, agreeing with her as he took out the bag of holding, searching for a scroll of Grant flight to use on himself. 

She then opened the window.

“Let’s go then, darling.” he pressed a quick kiss to her lips,”I can’t wait to get back to our room now.”

She grinned.

“Is that so?”

“Well,there’s plenty to celebrate, wouldn’t you say so? And you did mention something about spoiling me in any way I would want once we got back, didn’t you, darling?” he purred.

Syanna couldn’t help but laugh, a low, throaty, delightful  sound, which he enjoyed greatly when it came from her. 

Incorrigible, indeed.