#I DID ONE OH MY GOD IVE NEVER DONE ONE OF THESE BEFORE

[tangerinesteve]

Last Sentence Tag Game

rules: in a rb or separate post, post the last sentence you wrote in any of your wips (original, fanfic, etc), and tag as many people as there are words.

Whoa look at meeee actually doing this for once in my liiiiffeeee!!! I got tagged by @scoops-aboy86 ! And others in the past but shh shh shh! I very rarely have wips. And this is technically like... from more of a ramble to a friend that i might turn into a fic!!! But its my OC Kirby (he/they) shipped with Gator Tillman, Gator walked out of church cuz his father was ranting about gays going to hell and he came to Kirby's and they're talking about how maybe Gator should find something else to worship.... 🥰 they are not "together" yet here.

Kirby feels Gator's finger hook around his middle one, locking them together, and watches Gator watch him as he smiles softly and says "I'll think of something."

No pressure tagging! (Also there's no way im gonna be able to think of that many people so we're not doing it by words okay wwweeeeee!

@hotluncheddie @mrprettywhenhecries @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @steddielations @sidekick-hero

[nerdie-faerie]

Just when I think the day's going well, I crash a golf cart

[todayisafridaynight]

STILL HAVING SUCH A NORMAL ONE ABOUT THAT RGGJO BUT NO Y7JO GETTING REALLY GOOD AT HOUSEWORK I SEE THE VISION… I'm pickin' up what you're puttin' down…

Because I've always wondered how unprepared Jo would've been going into everything. On one hand, he did leave home really young, but since he was working and Ikumi wasn't, one could argue Ikumi would've been the one to handle the housework at least while they were together.

Inversely, I do kiiind of feel like Jo would've done at least Some Things when he could to ease the burden on Ikumi based on his attempt to comfort her at the station. I'm reading way too much into it but it's notable that, despite him definitely being a smoker and them hoping for a miscarriage, the ashtray in their apartment is spotless.

But we only really see his living situation when he's with Ikumi and don't get to see what--if anything--changes when he's on his own, when he has to do everything and not just Some Things. But with regard to food, if you're in survival mode like that, while it is more economical to make food at home, it would make sense that any quality of cooking would be passable. That's not going to fly with a kid who's lived in the lap of luxury his whole life.

So I've always had a lot of feelings about Jo Bettering Himself for Masato's sake (even when Masato isn't necessarily being reasonable) and his overblown neurosis at the prospect of falling short--the post you mentioned in your tags is Exactly It. But, you know, it's cheesy, but I firmly believe he could do whatever he set his mind to, if he can manage to learn Every Martial Art and become a glorified (and very competent) accountant after dropping out of high school.

Also uhhhhhhhh entire post reminded me of this (びら on Pixiv) that's it that's the ask

Ok I'm glad we both caught on to Jo's attempt to console Ikumi and the considerably-clean home. Evidently he was probably self-sufficient enough, but nothing extraordinary- just whatever passed as 'suitable' for them, so it's not as though he's going in totally clueless (but certainly not knowledgeable enough to match Masato's extremely-high standards. Bless Arakawa but he definitely spoiled him a little).

Even if it is a 'cheesy' sentiment, Jo very much has proven that so long as it's for Masato, he's willing to do anything and everything no matter how big (joining the yakuza) or small (probably like. learning how to make quiche)

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[myriadsystem]

.

[spirirsstuff]

never had more self esteem than after i got called pretty a month ago

[harmonictechnicality]

Eddie develops a strange habit after sex. It’s not exactly cute or romantic or nice. Nothing bad either. It’s just… well, Steve isn’t too sure what it is. But every time, it’s the same damn thing.

He collapses onto Steve’s chest and says:

“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”

Usually, Steve is still recovering from the fucking downpour of post-orgasm endorphins. So he doesn’t question it. Hell, he stopped challenging Eddie’s tolerance to geek out months ago. Dude holds fantasy knowledge in his brain better than he holds his liquor.

Which is saying a lot.

Anyways, Steve never has the mental capacity to react or respond. Instead, he runs his fingers through Eddie’s sweat-soaked hair for awhile. Scratches out little patterns on his scalp because it always makes Eddie go limp. Quiet.

Quiet is a rarity for him. And while Steve is totally weak for Eddie’s chattiness, the quiet can be nice too.

The only reason Steve finally decides to ask about it is because Eddie slips up. Says it before they have sex.

Steve is against the bedroom door, his nails dragging down Eddie’s back. God, he loves this kind of kissing. The lung draining kind. The type that’s sort of filthy from all the heat and grinding. 

Eddie hasn’t marked him up this bad since that time someone at work noticed his neck. Asked if Steve was having an allergic reaction during an office-wide meeting.

And this is going to be even worse. Steve can tell by the sounds and the soft pricks of Eddie’s teeth. He can tell by how long Eddie spends over each spot, like the bruising skin needs more attention than the rest of him. Like licking them over will make the colors last longer.

The damage has been done. Really no point in stopping him when it feels so fucking good. Steve forgets to worry about  how mauled he’s gonna look tomorrow because his head is swimming with Eddie’s lips on his neck. His collarbone. His chest.

That’s when it happens. That’s when Eddie’s strange habit makes an early appearance. 

He kisses over the blistery mess he made, practically growls the words out this time: 

“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”

“Okay, time out.” Steve says. Heaves some air back into his lungs. Pulls Eddie’s face up before he can continue making Steve look like goddamn target practice. 

Eddie blinks a few times. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Gonna have to wear fucking high-collared shirts all week, but whatever.

He’ll bring that up some other time. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Saying what?”

“That… thing.” Steve barely can spit it out.  It’s like his throat is physically rejecting the nerdy shit he’s about to say. “You keep calling me… a cyborg or something.” 

“Oh that.” Eddie sighs. Casually shrugs to one side. “It’s your fault actually.”

“How is it my fault? I don’t even know what fucking language you’re speaking.”

Eddie walks over to the bed, chanting Steve’s name over and over. Definitely not in the way Steve prefers him to chant his name. Very un-sexy chanting.

“Remember that day you asked me to grab your car keys?” He asks, patting the bed for Steve to join him. 

No. “Kinda?”

Steve hesitates before walking over. He didn’t necessarily wanna stop their primal makeout session. But it was bound to lead to the bed at some point, so…

Just not like this. Not talking while fully clothed. Blech.

He sits next to Eddie. Hands awkwardly fidgeting in his lap.

“Well, I couldn’t find them.” Eddie admits. “So I ended up going through your desk drawers.”

Of course he did. Perpetual snooper.

“Ended up finding a binder full of medical records.”

Well shit.

Steve’s throat tightens. Swells around the sudden guilt he feels for keeping this from Eddie. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a metal plate in your head?”

“Dunno. Hardly even remember it.” That’s only partly true. Steve doesn’t remember the surgery or much of the recovery process. He was only a kid when it happened.

But he does remember the hospital smells. He remembers the sounds of his IV bag dripping throughout the night. All the sensory indicators are still fresh in his mind.

“Well, that’s why. You're part-machine.” Eddie points to Steve’s head, expression softening. “And every time we fuck around, I think about your bionic skull. And how glad I am that it keeps your brain from leaking out when I bend you over the way you like it best.”

Steve laughs. The jokes help lighten the mood. Not enough to replace it entirely, but enough for it to be easy to swallow again. 

They’re both quiet as they get ready for bed, folding the covers down. And yeah, sometimes quiet can be nice. Just maybe not right now.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

Steve stares hard at the pillows. “Are cyborgs like… cool?”

Eddie pauses for a moment, then hops onto the bed. Starts crawling over to Steve with a smug grin. He lifts up to meet Steve’s lips. Kisses him sweeter than normal. Lighter. Starts nodding his head mid-kiss, keeps nodding as he breaks away.

“Yeah, babe. Cyborgs are so fucking cool.”

[littleprinces]

The Night of Passion

IVE Liz x M! Reader

The night was dark, and the music was loud. The club was packed with people, all dancing to the rhythmic beats. I scanned the room, looking for someone who caught my eye. That's when I saw her. Liz. She was standing by the bar, sipping on a drink. She had long, wavy blonde hair, piercing green eyes, and curves in all the right places. I couldn't help but be drawn to her.

I made my way over to the bar, ordering a drink as I tried to think of a way to approach her. As I sipped on my whiskey, I noticed her gaze lingering on me. I took the opportunity and approached her, trying to think of a smooth line.

"Hey, I noticed you from across the room. You seem like the kind of girl who'd be up for a little adventure," I said, flashing her a charming smile.

She looked at me for a moment, her green eyes full of curiosity. "Is that so? What kind of adventure did you have in mind?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

I leaned in close, my lips brushing against her ear as I whispered, "I was thinking something a bit more...private. Are you interested?"

Liz gave me a sultry smile and nodded, her eyes full of excitement. We made our way out of the club and into the cool night air. I led her to my car, where I had a surprise waiting for her.

"I thought we could have some fun in here," I said, opening the trunk to reveal a collection of toys and props.

Liz's eyes widened, her cheeks flushing with heat. "I've never done anything like this before," she admitted, biting her lip.

I reached into the trunk, pulling out a set of anal beads and a buttplug. "Well, there's a first time for everything," I said, handing them to her. "Why don't you try these on for size?"

Liz hesitantly took the items from me, examining them with a curious expression. I could tell she was nervous, but I knew we were going to have a good time.

I reached for the vibrator, pressing the button to bring it to life. "Now, let's get started. I'm going to fuck your pussy with this while you play with your ass," I said, sliding the vibrator inside of her.

Liz moaned softly, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the sensation. I watched her intently, my cock throbbing with anticipation.

"Now, take the anal beads and insert them one by one," I instructed, watching as she slowly pushed the beads into her tight ass.

Liz's breathing became ragged, her body trembling with pleasure. "Oh god, that feels so good," she whispered, her eyes locked on mine.

I grabbed the buttplug, lubing it up before pushing it into her ass. "And now, let's add this little toy to the mix," I said, watching as it disappeared inside of her.

Liz moaned loudly, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Oh fuck, that's so intense," she gasped, her body writhing in ecstasy.

I reached for the BDSM gear, attaching a leather collar around her neck. "Now, let's take this to the next level," I said, my voice low and commanding.

Liz looked up at me, her eyes full of trust and desire. "Yes, Sir," she said, her voice soft and submissive.

I led her back to my car, where I had set up a makeshift sex dungeon. I strapped her to the bed, her arms and legs spread wide. I took a moment to admire her body, my cock throbbing with anticipation.

"Now, let's get to work," I said, reaching for the anal beads and buttplug.

Liz moaned loudly as I removed the toys from her ass, her body trembling with pleasure. I slid my cock into her tight pussy, fucking her hard and fast.

"Yes, fuck me, Sir. Harder, deeper," Liz begged, her voice hoarse with desire

"Fuck liz, you are so dirty slut, you are gonna be my pet" i moan softly

"Yes Sir, fuck me, claim this dirty slut as yours" Liz moan harder

I gripped her hips tightly, pounding into her with all my might. "You like that, don't you? You like it when I fuck you hard," I growled, my voice full of lust.

Liz moaned loudly, her body shaking with pleasure. "Oh god, yes, fuck me harder," she gasped, her eyes locked on mine.

I reached down, grabbing her legs and pulling them up to her chest. I plunged my cock deep inside of her, fucking her with reckless abandon.

"Yeah, that's it. Take my cock like the dirty little slut you are," I said, my voice full of lust.

Liz moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure. "Oh god, yes, fuck me like that, Sir," she gasped, her eyes locked on mine.

I reached down, grabbing her clit and rubbing it roughly. "Are you ready to cum, you little slut? Are you ready to cum all over my cock?" I growled, my voice full of lust.

Liz moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure. "Oh fuck, yes, I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum all over your cock, Sir," she gasped, her eyes locked on mine.

I could feel her pussy clenching tightly around my cock, her orgasm ripping through her body like wildfire. I fucked her hard and deep, my own orgasm building inside of me.

"Yeah, that's it. Cum for me, you little slut. Cum all over my cock," I growled, my voice full of lust.

Liz moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure as she came hard. I pumped my cock deep inside of her, my own orgasm ripping through me like a tidal wave.

I pulled out of her, cum shooting out of my cock and splattering all over her pussy. "Yeah, that's it. Cum all over my little slut," I growled, my voice hoarse with lust.

Liz moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure as my cum dripped down her pussy and onto the bed.

"God, that was so intense," she whispered, her eyes locked on mine.

I smiled, my cock still throbbing with desire. "I told you we were going to have a good time," I said, my voice low and commanding.

Liz smiled, her eyes full of satisfaction. "Yes, Sir. You definitely delivered," she said, her voice soft and submissive.

I reached for the anal beads and buttplug, attaching them to my cock. "Now, let's see how you like it when I fuck your ass," I said, my voice full of lust.

Liz moaned softly, her eyes full of desire. "Yes, Sir. I want to feel your cock in my ass," she whispered, her voice hoarse with lust.

I positioned myself behind her, my cock ready to penetrate her tight ass. I pressed the head of my cock against her asshole, slowly pushing my way inside.

"Oh fuck, that's so intense," Liz gasped, her body trembling with pleasure.

Liz moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure. "Oh god, yes, fuck me in the ass, Sir," she gasped, her eyes locked on mine.

I gripped her hips tightly, fucking her ass with reckless abandon. "Yeah, that's it. Take my cock in your ass, you little slut," I growled, my voice full of lust.

I reached down, grabbing her clit and rubbing it roughly. "Are you ready to cum again, you little slut? Are you ready to cum all over my cock?" I growled, my voice hoarse with lust.

Liz moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure. "Oh fuck, yes, I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum all over your cock, Sir," she gasped, her eyes locked on mine.

I pulled out of her, cum shooting out of my cock and splattering all over her ass. "Yeah, that's it. Cum all over my little slut," I growled, my voice hoarse with lust.

Liz moaned loudly, her body trembling with pleasure as my cum dripped down her ass and onto the bed.

And the night will be so long for us

[haerni]

OH MY GOD, “who is he? ”

summary: feels like you’re fallin’ deeper & maybe you’re going crazy, right? does he want you or not? he’s so confusing!

ft. park sunghoon (based on ‘OMG’ by newjeans!)

content: fem! reader, tooth-rotting fluff, a lil bit of hurt comfort, sunghoon is that confusing guy, mutual pining, reader is a bit embarrassing i think? sunoo your support system! 1.8k words

— very very minimal proofread and editing bc ive only done this in one sitting (help me).

( 🍃 ) notes: this took me so long omfgsbks but here we are with my very first content on this blog, please be nice TT sunghoon might be ooc saur.. theres that! can u tell i love sunoo, i have to sneak him in. maybe the story will jump for awhile so sorry for that also.

you've probably liked PARK SUNGHOON for almost half of your life.

ever since he sat with you at the swing from the park you used to go to when you were kids and offering his own comfort when you were crying on that day, to this day forward when he offers his shoulder for you to cry on.

he never questions the reasons behind your cries, he never pushes and all he does is sit there and offer you whispers of solace that you take to heart.

because your best friend wouldn't want the worst for you.

because all he does is care for you.

and maybe—just maybe—you hate him a little for it, for doing things that make your heart flutter, for simply just touching your hair and pulling you closer hoping that it will quell the sadness that consumes you. or when he would walk with you home after his practice despite being tired and run down to the bones, he would never miss a day. or when he would call you such sweet things like you are together when you aren't.

or when one time he heard through jay how someone was making passes on you and disgusting comments about you, he comes home with a bruised lip and wounded knuckles. he refused to let you see him, not until you forced your way to his room with the first aid kit his mother let you borrow, because he also wouldn't let her treat him.

or when you can't even pretend to be okay in the sea of bodies in a party and he notices right away. he drags you by your hand and drags you out of the party without a care for anyone. he only tells you that he hates the party and would rather eat out in a convenience store nearby.

he holds your hand tightly, you knew that night you loved park sunghoon more than you could ever imagine.

a decade into your friendship, you fell in love with your best friend, park sunghoon.

you did your best to hide it, to keep these emotions at bay and lock away into the very bottom of your heart. you swallow the bubbling feeling in your throat whenever he's close. you did your very best to preserve the relationship the both of you built together. even if all you wanted was just ruin it and become something more.

loving park sunghoon was easy, it was easy as the breeze that touched your hair, it was easy as falling into a routine of living and looking forward to days when he's with you. the prospect of loving sunghoon comes naturally and you don't know how to stop it. it just grows more everyday and suddenly you find yourself in garden of flowers blossoming in your heart, so much that's its starting to flow out little by little and you're slipping, you're heart is becoming unguarded, the walls you've spent all your life building is chipping away slowly.

it's becoming suffocating, it's hard to breathe around him.

the passing touches, the stolen glances and brief silence has been occurring more and more.

it's only a matter of time, before someone catches on. unfortunately, that time is right now.

"what's with you and sunghoon, lately?" your friend, sunoo asks, "did you guys have a fight?"

a second passes before you answer him, "we did not. why do you ask?"

sunoo sits closer to you and puts his face on his palm, "you have been avoiding him."

you stopped, "no, i'm not."

"it's lunch and you're sitting here with me in the library, working on an assignment that's not due until next week, when you usually never miss eating when he comes by our room to eat with you." he pointed out.

too specific. were you that predictable? and when you don't answer sunoo realizes something. when his eyes widen too much for your comfort that's when you interject from whatever train of thought he had.

"or maybe—"

"i don't know what you are talking about, sunoo."

"you're avoiding him.."

"i already told you, i'm not—!"

"sure, keep telling yourself that." sunoo snorts at that, "i know you like him and not how a best friend should."

you can't breathe again, you were absolutely done for. because sunoo was right, he got the answer right and you couldn't find it in yourself to quip back at him. you can't find it in yourself to deny and brush it off, because it's simply not real, it's not what your heart is telling you. maybe, that was your last straw.

maybe that was all it needed for you to let out your heart just for once and face the reality.

you don't want sunghoon as a best friend.

the realization hits harder when someone utters it out, because you have lived all your life hiding and suddenly, it pours out like rain after a long unending drought.

now here you are. in the porch of your house under the moonlight with you encased in sunghoon's arms, because you were stupid enough to go out and try to forget about him, to go see other people and hope that you can lose all these feelings you have for him. it didn't, maybe it never will. a boy, somehow he's the same height and stature as sunghoon it was enough for you to agree for a dinner out.

it was stupid to begin with. you didn't even know this guy's name (you can't even bother to remember). because while you sat there and tried to engage with him, your mind drifted far on how he does not have the same moles as sunghoon, he does not make you laugh like sunghoon does, maybe he would've took you out to that ramen place you always go to after a long day instead of this fancy restaurant that you don't even know. quite sure enough that guy only talked about himself, you didn't listen.

"so are we going?" he gives you an all-knowing smile and as you try to turn him down a voice comes in.

"she's not going with you." you look behind, and there he stands one hand in his pocket wearing a white button-up shirt that you haven't seen before, a cold gaze accompanying it and his hair done all too perfectly—like he was on a date.

"hey! who do you think you are?" sunghoon ignores him as he offers his hand to you. tilting his head in question. you did not hesitate to grab it. it's almost a curse for him to know when you need him the most.

you can feel the heat rising up in your body as he intertwines both of your hands and gives it a squeeze.

he brings you home, like how he promised your dad when you were sixteen.

you bite your lips in hopes of suppressing all the emotions running down on you. but you can't really do that in front of sunghoon, can you?

you broke down.

and sunghoon was there—it was enough. it was enough for everything to pour out.

"i'm tired, hoon." his arms tighten around you, burying his face to your hair, almost as if he's kissing it in comfort.

you're tired? is it because of that guy? should he beat him up? you wouldn't like it anyway, so he erase the thought. park sunghoon has never hated anyone more than that jerk right now. he curses that stupid guy who made you like this.

"i hate you park sunghoon."

"you don't mean that."

you don't.

"i really really hate you." you were probably the worst to utter such words to him. to your best friend, to sunghoon out of all people. but you can't stop. "you're so stupid, stupid."

it takes him back, he didn't expect for you to be mad at him. he's silent for a moment as he continues to hold you like you're going to disappear.

"how am i stupid, baby?" there he goes again with those stupid nicknames.

you refuse to look at him, burying your face to his nape. and when you don't answer he talks for you.

"do you hate me that much for you not to look at me?" you really hate park sunghoon.

he sighs at the lack of your response. he shakes his head before he turns his face closer to your ear, "what am i gonna do, baby? you hate me, but i like you so much."

what? what the fuck?

that makes you widen your eyes processing what he just said as you sit up straight and facing him. and it makes him laugh a little, he probably shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. not when you're this adorably looking at him like you can't believe it.

"don't joke about things like that park sunghoon!"

wow, using his government name? "you don't believe me?" you don't answer. "why do you think i came to that awful restaurant wearing this shirt?" you knew it was new, you've never seen him wear it.

"because you want to fit it?" you answer.

"that too," he laughs, "and because you didn't eat lunch with me, you didn't walk home with me. i heard from sunoo, that you were out with someone and you didn't dress up because of me. you were on a date and it wasn't me. you were avoiding me, baby."

he looks at you and it hurts because both of you are a fucking idiot. all this time, sunghoon liked you.

park sunghoon likes you.

"how long?" and you can't help it, you have to know.

he thinks for a second, "hm.. since when you were on that swing? i thought you were pretty." he smiles so easily.

oh my god.

you buried your face once more, not really knowing what to do, because for the longest time you thought you were the only one feeling this way.

but sunghoon understands, he continues to talk, "jay thinks i'm obsessed with you. he's not wrong, you know? you don't have to say anything right now, i know you're having a har—"

you kissed him. park sunghoon is really an idiot. how can you not like him? how can anyone not even like him? he's so stupid. sunghoon's eyes widen a bit, but melts into your touch as quickly.

god, was this really happening? please don't ever wake him up if this is a dream.

you pulled away for a breather and he reached for another one causing you to block his lips with your hand.

feeling the blood in your cheeks, flustered as sunghoon kisses your palm instead. his hand coming up to yours to remove it.

"can i kiss you again?" you were going to die, "please?" you're sure of it.

"no!"

sunghoon laughs at that. you can't feel it, but his cheeks are really hurting now from smiling. maybe one day you'll let him kiss you more, but for now this is enough.

he has loved you almost all of his life.

𖹭 likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! i hope he is not too out of character :')

[epiicaricacy-arts]

oh we’re still so young, desperate for attention

this was super experimental so i will talk about my process (+ clearer version) under the cut

i’ve been looking at a lot of “messier” or more textured painting styles recently and an artist that stuck out to me is clariondeluna ! they posted a self-portrait recently that i really liked and i was super interested in the brushwork seen in their work. i love all the textures and how the shapes feel so loose yet everything is so detailed.

that’s not a method for me at all!!!! i cannot paint like that at all and the stuff i like to paint is very different to theirs. which is okay!!!! i had no intention to copy this artists style so closely like with what i tried to do in my raiden painting, i just wanted to try this style out :^)

it’s been a goal of mine to avoid over-rendering like i tend to do a lot, and i think i’ve been doing good with that recently! the mindset i’ve got going on right now is that if i find myself staring at it too hard for too long, i have to leave it and move on. if there’s still something wrong with it, i can fix it later once ive got a fresh view!

i’ve been trying a lot of things with my art this year. i always try to challenge myself with each piece, and to end the year off i wanted to be as uncomfortable as i possibly could be with this painting. i let myself draw whatever i wanted because i still wanted to enjoy it, but everything i did in this process was new, including parts of the subject matter.

i’ve never drawn a head at an angle like this, and i struggle with drawing mouths open. i don’t do bold lighting like this, and if i do, it’s not fire. i’ve never drawn fire! i also rarely work with warm colours and i hate using green, so i combined those to be my colour palette. i like working cleanly so instead of having a dozen different layers for one section, each section only had 1-2 layers for rendering. instead of clipping masks i would simply paint over things loosely and clean it up later. i never like having limbs cut off in a drawing so i had his other arm go GOD knows where. i don’t like weird patterned backgrounds so i made myself figure out how to like it!

IS THIS MY FAVOURITE PIECE OF ALL TIME. no. absolutely not. but i’m very proud of how this came out with all the challenges i put on myself. i WANTED to get better at these things and be more broad with my art, both in terms of the styles and subjects i portray.

okay let’s talk about wtf this drawing is

for those who don’t know, the design in this painting is my fatui/“Father” lyney fan design (read the design post here). the concept isnt super complicated and i don’t really have much explanation for it, but i wanted to combine the story of how lyney wanted a delusion before getting his vision, fire eating circus acts and how olympic medalists will bite their medal to prove it’s real??? don’t quote me on that i’m like 75% sure that’s a thing that happens. i don’t watch sports though so im just believing someone i heard on the internet ages ago.

anyways. i think fire eating acts are cool. and i think the fact that lyney wanted a delusion is very interesting to me. scratches my brain in the right places. and yk as a magician lyneys character revolves a lot around fooling people and creating illusions so i guess what im saying here is that lyney is trying to prove to himself that this power he’s been bestowed is real. bc his whole life his only constant has been lynette so he is trying to see if he can trust this new power. cause i guess this is an alternate universe where lyney does eventually become “Father” but he never got his vision ??? idk im not making lore for this i just wanted to dress up this funny little guy.

ok i’m done

thanks for reading

here’s my dog

[spitdrunken]

i keep thinking about essentially being like. velvette's 'charity case' model and how your relationship develops from there.

notes: fem!reader, velvette calls you ugly LMAO, beyond that... no warnings, really. surprisingly the most healthy vee relationship ive written yet!

velvette's typical models all look similar, reminiscent of the modeling industry back when you were alive. tall, skinny and, more important than anything else, human-looking. most of them could pass for humans in a costume.

you… do not. you just didn't get quite that lucky with your demon form! really, you can say that the vast majority of people drew the short end of the stick, at least by the kind of standards that people like velvette set. maybe you're a bat, with a snout you've deemed as pig-like taking up most of your face. or a sheep, your single-slitted, dead eyes making even you uncomfortable. perhaps you're more formed after an object than what you would consider a person, or plant-like in nature! in any regards, due to the way lucifer chose to have you reborn you firmly do not fall within hell's beauty standards.

all of that means you were absolutely not expecting to be accepted when you went ahead and applied to a job with someone as famous and perfectionistic as velvette. it had started as a joke, really. you'd posted a purposefully horrible picture of yourself on vitter, with a stupid caption like; "do u think that :skull::heart: would kill me for submitting to open casting looking like this lmaooooo" (you have to use emojis to talk about the vees, as the socials owned by them are notorious for taking anything remotely negative down.)

and unexpectedly, your post randomly did some pretty big numbers, with people egging you on and some practically begging to tell you what kind of insults she would sling at your head. you saw some people copying your original as well.

so you're like! whatever!!! you don't think that you'd even get through the application process, much less velvette herself. nothing will end up happening, so, who cares? but then, somehow, despite everyone and their mom wanting to model for velvette, you get… through? and you even get an interview scheduled with velvette herself?

she takes one look at you as you walk in, and just goes: oh my god. this really is grim. and you're hardly seated, before she continues. look, i don't have the time for niceties, and introductions are entirely unnecessary. i'm sure you already know this, but you're not here because of your looks.

yeah. you figured that. …i guessed so. but i'm still sitting here. so, why?

instead of getting a real answer, you're shuffled off into a shoot, different outfits flashing on top of your body, faster than you blink, velvette's face settled into a scowl, till it suddenly lights up. it doesn't go… super well, you've never really done this and, if you had, velvette's attitude surely wouldn't help. you never really get clarity as to why you're being hired, when a contract is shoved in front of you.

(the reality of the situation is that velvette had seen you trending, not trending-trending, but still a noticable. she realised the demand for someone like you, a 'relatable' every-demon being thrust into this new world, and documenting it online. her company can claim they accept 'all kinds of demons', and some poor suckers will feel less excluded when looking at her fashion, buying it more quickly. win-win-win!)

she tells you to you're face that you're the ultimate challenge. if she can fix someone like you up to in a half-decent model, it just shows that she really is a fucking goddess. maybe you're not as pretty or as used to everything as the rest of the models, but that doesn't mean you don't put in any effort now that you're there. the other girls won't associate with you whatsoever, but you do listen in on their conversations, pretending to mess around on your phone, coming to know the kind of make-up velvette likes. you tirelessly browse online, mostly on vikvok and vitter, figuring out the current trends. and after a while, velvette takes a look at an outfit you picked, and actually says…

this is pretty decent. it won't look good on you, but i can use this. maybe, somewhere along the way, you become more of an assistant or outfit suggestor for velvette, only occasionally stopping in for shoots. velvette never accepted anyone in a similar position to you, even though vox tried her to get an assistant for ages, and she wouldn't have accepted you either if you'd obviously being vying for the position. but you weren't, and your position just kind of naturally developed that way.

your shtick as a 'charity case' has somewhat been abandoned, though velvette still dumps clothes in your arms sometimes and tells you to try them on. maybe you're one of the few people who gets her to laugh, and the only one who she freely bitches to about all of her models. (she does this to vox and valentino too, but it's not the same. they don't care as much, nor do they really know who she's talking about.) she lets you sort through some of the open casting applications and help pick out the theme for a shoot.

of course, absolutely everything you do has to go through velvette first, and she still criticizes you aplenty, but you can't help but feel she has grown… fond of you, in a sense? sometimes, you swear you see her wearing outfits you'd picked out for another model… and while she shittalks everything that moves, you just happened to listen in on her giving a model a tonguelashing for talking bad about you. either way, you've certainly come to like her a lot more. you're now even mutuals on vitter and vikvok! much to the delight of the tiny following you'd grown on there. she even posted a picture of the two of you on there! …that means you've really made it.

maybe at some point, when her company has hit a new milestone and, in a rare slip-up (or perhaps valentino gave her a super strong drink on purpose, thinking its funny) she gets pretty drunk. you end up sitting opposite of each other in a bar, with her having decided on the spot to put some make-up on you, leaning in close to check her work, fingers gliding slowly over your skin. a situation that feels entirely too intimate for this setting, not helped by the half-lidded look in your eyes. …i have changed my mind. she mumbles, slurring her words are little. you can look pretty, after all.

you sputter out a oh really, and you only realised that now?! in order to break the heaviness of the air, the unspoken tension that makes your heart skip a beat, and velvette laughs.

(maybe there's hope for the two of you yet.)

[celtic-crossbow]

Blood Ties Chapter 10

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, blood, injury, vomiting

A/N: This chapter is admittedly self indulgent. I love Daryl whump and I’ve been kind to him physically for most of the story so far. Not anymore! That being said, I feel like I should have split this into more than one chapter because—to me—the quality suffered because of the length. Anyway, on with the show!

Moodboard by @dannyo000

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

The sun was shining through the open curtains when you awoke. You scowled at the rays but the gentle heat that your skin was absorbing seemed to sooth the irritation. You stretched stagnant muscles, not even venturing to suppress the moan invoked by the action. You let your head fall to the side, finding the opposite margin of the bed empty. Daryl had already left. You shouldn’t be surprised. He was a hunter. Your variety were early risers. Well, you were admittedly a bit of a slacker. 

Your stomach felt moderately uneasy but not unmanageable. Hershel must have given you that injection while you slept. Your IV was disconnected and a glass of water sat on the bedside table, this time closest to you. You picked it up after gliding your legs off the side of the bed, taking slow careful sips. You were just placing it back on the table when there was a soft knock on the door. 

“Come in?” You weren’t sure if it was Hershel or maybe someone else who lived in the home. It felt odd to invite them into a room that didn’t belong to you. 

Carol peeked inside and smiled before opening the door fully to enter, a young blonde girl right on her heels with a glass of something—colorful. “Hi, honey. How are you feeling?” You accepted the woman’s embrace. 

“Better.” You smiled reassuringly when she pulled back to get a look at you. “Who’s this? And what’s that?” Carol looked behind herself on one side and then the other before stepping aside. 

“I’m Beth. My daddy is the one that helped you.” The girl was just that: a girl. She was older than Carl and Sophia but still a kid. “We made you a fruit smoothie. Patricia says it’s good for you and shouldn’t make you sick.”

You offered her a tight smile and accepted the drink, fearful of not only the taste but the consistency of the thing. You’d never done well with solid things being made into liquids. With an uncertain frown, you took a small sip. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Holy shit, that’s good.” When you took another drink, a smiling Carol put a hand on your arm. 

“Go slow.”

You nodded, tilting your head at the pile of clothes in Carol’s arms. “Are those for me?”

“Mhm. Thought you might like to clean up and change.”

“Oh my god, you read my mind.” You took another sip and made a grateful noise that had Beth giggling. “That is really good.”

It was early evening by the time you had showered and decided to venture outside. The nap in between was desperately needed. You were still a little weak from your ordeal. 

It was your first glimpse of the land. Beautiful fields with horses and cows out to pasture, while the blue, cloudless sky blanketed it all. 

Blue like Daryl’s eyes. 

You frowned, shaking your head at yourself. “Where the hell did that come from?” You brushed it off easily and approached the little camp your fellow group mates had set up. It felt odd being around them all without Daryl being somewhere nearby but it wasn’t bad per se.

Lori looked up from the bin of laundry and smiled at you. It was small and you could sense something behind it. Nevertheless, you returned it. It wouldn’t be a horrible thing to get to know everyone better. You made two steps in Lori’s direction before noticing Rick, Shane, T-Dog, and Dale huddled together out of the corner of your eye. 

Normally, you’d think nothing of it, except you happened to catch Dale risking a glance in your direction. His expression pinched, concerned. He was quick to look away but it was too late. 

“What’s going on?” You asked, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your jeans. The way they all looked between one another spoke volumes. There was something they didn’t want to tell you. 

Shane did that thing where he shoved his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans and looked around at nothing before meeting your eyes. “Nothing for you to worry about, darlin’. We got it under control.”

You couldn’t help but sneer at him. “Don’t call me darlin’ and I can decide if I should worry or not. Rick?” The officers shared a look with Shane shaking his head but Rick seemed to disagree. 

“Daryl took a horse out today to look for Sophia.” 

You shook your head and raised a brow inquisitively. “Okay?” 

“The horse came back. Without him.”

Your stomach dropped before twisting with a feeling of dread. “You’re going out, right?” 

“Well, this is Daryl. We’re gonna give him until nightfall and set out first thing in the morning if he’s not back.” Rick explained. The incredulous expression you donned must have been enough encouragement for him to stammer out further explanation. “We can’t risk going out and not making it back before dark.”

“But it’s okay for Daryl—who could be hurt—to be out there alone all night, right? Are you fucking serious right now?” You were finding it increasingly difficult to keep your anger in check or your voice at a low volume. 

“Listen, missy, you don’t have a lot of right to say much of anything around here! Let me tell you something—” Shane began. You were having none of it. 

“Oh, shove it, Dudley Do-Right!” You hissed. You had spun away and started looking for Daryl’s tent, missing the undoubtedly furious—but comically memorable—expression on Shane’s face. “I’ll go find him myself.”

You heard Rick’s frantic footfalls before he stepped in front of you, palms out. “Wait, wait, wait. We can’t let you go out there.”

“Let me?”

Dale joined Rick, taking off his hat as he spoke. You weren’t sure why he did it other than maybe attempting to show you some form of respect. “Daryl would be less than thrilled if something happened to you.”

“I thought I didn’t have any rights around here?” You crossed your arms, eyes sliding to the side when you heard someone approaching from behind. When they didn’t move where you could see them, you felt your hackles rise. They must have not been informed that you were also a hunter. “If you touch me, you risk losing a body part.” You spat over your shoulder, venom dripping from every syllable. “And I promise you, it’ll be something you’ll definitely miss.” Shane gave you a wide berth as he circled within your sight, hands up as if he were being detained. 

“Look, Y/N, we know that’s Daryl’s baby.” Rick dropped his hands to his sides, bringing one back up immediately to rub at his forehead. 

“And how do you know that?” You knew it was a stupid question. The archer hadn’t left your side the entire time you were unconscious. After you awoke, he was at your beck and call: bringing you food, making sure you drank enough, watching over you as you rested. 

“You were unconscious. You didn’t see him when he brought you here.” Rick was trying so hard to be nice and you knew he meant it. He was a genuine person. 

“He was off the rails! Rantin’ and ravin’ like a lunatic!”

“Shane, you’re not helping.” Rick had tilted his head, directing his statement at his partner but keeping his eyes on the ground at your feet. When he spoke again, his gaze found yours, full of kindness and concern. “We just can’t take any risks.”

Regardless, you would not be deterred. “I’m not asking you to. In fact, I’m not asking at all.” They allowed you to sidestep around them, not following you but you could hear them muttering loudly amongst themselves. 

Finding Daryl’s tent was a piece of cake. You used what you knew of him to conclude that he would be the furthest from the rest. Once inside, you found your pack and knives sitting to one side, surprisingly in a neat pile. In fact, the entire space was orderly enough for you to scratch your head and second guess if you had indeed entered the right tent. 

His bedroll had not been used, the cot not set up. That made sense. He had spent the nights in the house with you while you recovered. You could still feel the warmth his body gave off even with several inches between you. Damn him for going off alone. 

He did have some goodies in his area that you were happy to borrow. Some dried jerky, a length of rope, some extra clothes (for him, just in case), a meager amount of medical supplies (also, just in case), and a flashlight. You’d give it all back. Maybe. 

Knives holstered and bag on your back, you bent down to exit the tent, standing to come face to face with Carol and Lori. Throwing back your head, you groaned. “Not you guys, too.”

“Daryl made it pretty clear that the baby is his.” Lori spoke first. “We’re gonna worry.”

“You’re new, but we’re all in this together. Daryl, too. He’s out there looking for my girl, after all.” Carol held out two canteens of water. “Maggie and Glenn aren’t back yet. That shot Hershel gave you isn’t gonna last much longer. You need to stay hydrated.”

Before you could react, Lori handed you two apples and a can of kidney beans. “You need to eat too. Fruit and protein are good for the baby and for nausea.”

“Thank you.” You turned to allow Carol to place the items in your bag, getting caught in a hug on your way back around. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Carol nodded while Lori took your hand and squeezed. “We’ll handle the men. Go on. Daryl left out that way.” You turned your attention to the direction she pointed and gave a nod, jogging off before anyone could intercept you. 

Situations like this were when being a hunter and tracker was beyond beneficial; it could be potentially life saving. Finding the horse’s trail was easy. The shape of the hooves indicated whether the mare was coming or going, as well as the depth, indicating whether or not Daryl was in the saddle. 

He had gone some distance, that was certain. Being on horseback allowed him to cover more ground but he gave up the advantage of being close to the paths. It had to be harder to see any trails from horseback. Then again, he was a marksman with his crossbow. He was eagle-eyed for sure. 

You had been tracking him for at least an hour, the sun getting lower and lower. Rick and Shane had been right about one thing: Daryl would raze that farm to the ground if he came back to learn you had gone out alone. Still, you had to think he’d find it at least a little funny that no one volunteered to go with you. Big strong manly men letting the petite sickly pregnant woman go in the woods all by her lonesome. You snorted at your own thoughts. 

You paused to check the sun’s position in the sky, estimating you had about an hour of daylight left. Even if you abandoned the search and went back at that moment, it would still be dark when you made it. You weren’t hungry, which you considered might be a bad thing, but you were thirsty. Pulling the bag from your shoulders, you crouched to dig through the contents for one of the canteens. It was easily found toward the top. 

“Small sips, small sips.” You reminded yourself. You didn’t yet feel nauseated but tempting fate was not an activity you regularly enjoyed. You did enough of that in the woods with Daryl and now had a baby in your belly for your efforts. You were screwing the lid back onto the canteen while simultaneously scanning the tracks you had been following, when you noticed a drastic change. “The horse startled.” You whispered urgently. You were quick to set aside your bag, moving low to the ground to inspect each print. “She reared. Fuck.” The next set of hoof prints were not as deep. “She threw him.”

You stood quickly, ignoring the very slight bout of light-headedness. “Daryl!” You whisper-yelled as loud as you dared. Efficient as you were, you could only handle so many walkers alone. Again, best not to tempt fate. “Daryl!” When you had made a 180, you saw a drop-off. You felt the nausea then, but it had nothing to do with your condition. You placed a palm against a tree, just in case you were to feel any sudden dizziness. You’d rather not topple over and go tumbling down the rocks into the bloody—water. “Oh fuck.”

The red was billowing out into green and yellow clouds in the water, showing it had been there long enough to dilute a substantial amount. “No, no, no. Daryl!” You moved hastily down the edge, following the water hopefully toward land. You had called louder only to be met with silence. Maybe he was out and gone. Back at camp and ready to have your head on a platter for going after him. Maybe he was nearby and would appear momentarily and call you an idiot for being so loud. 

Neither of those proved to be the case. 

When you spotted the gravelly riverside, you easily found the hunter. The sound you made was somewhere between a sob and a whimper. He was only halfway out of the water, his legs submerged up to his waist. The blood in the water was still a dark red, indicating active bleeding. There was something protruding from his left side that looked suspiciously like one of his bolts. Your first thought was that someone had taken his crossbow and shot him with his own weapon. However, it was lying just above his head, his hand loosely wrapped around it. 

You were past the point of thinking rationally. He could be a grade A asshole but he was your baby’s father. That was enough reason to try your best to get him out of the fucked up predicament he had somehow gotten himself into. 

It wouldn’t stop you from cursing his name the entire time though. 

“How the hell am I supposed to get down there?” You paced the ledge, pulling at your hair. The slope was steep and littered with rocks, limbs, and roots. You couldn’t risk falling. You wouldn’t. 

But there was so much blood. 

“Think, Y/N!” You crouched down, tapping your fingers against the dirt while willing Daryl to move. To yell. Anything. “When I get you out of this mess, Daryl, I’m going to string you up by—” Your eyes flew wide, a gasp leaving your parted lips. Scrambling back to your bag, you dug through it haphazardly until your fingers wrapped around the rope you’d swiped from his tent. “Yes!”

It probably wasn’t long enough to get you all the way to the bottom but it would do to get you low enough for a fall not to injure you. You’d have to be creative, regardless. You couldn’t rappel down; the length was definitely not enough for that. You also couldn’t tie it to a tree on the ledge either. It would take too much rope. You needed to move down the slope a bit and use one of the tree roots. 

Which meant taking a risk. 

“I swear if you die, I’m killing you.” You muttered, while shrugging your bag onto your back. Your ass met the dirt somewhat roughly in your haste to get moving. The body could only lose so much blood before—Anyway, you had to go. You moved down carefully, keeping your backside firmly on the ground whilst you prodded rocks and limbs to ensure they would hold your weight. There was a sturdy, sizable root just a few more feet. If it was embedded deep enough, you could use it to get you down safely as well as get you both back up. 

You were nearly there when your foot slipped from the edge of a rock. It was easy to right yourself, given how carefully you were moving but it didn’t stop your heart from leaping into your nose. Looking down, you realized you had grabbed your stomach instinctively. With a calming breath, you gave your tummy a pat. “We got this, little thumper.”

The root was easy to get the rope around, secured with a bowline knot. You then loosely secured the end around your waist, high enough not to snap taut around your belly if you were to fall. It’d probably break your back, honestly, but eh, you were optimistic. 

You let the slack fall and grabbed on a couple of feet below the knot. “Here goes nothin’.” You started down at a faster pace than before. You couldn’t slide on your ass the whole way, that would take forever. 

Daryl didn’t have forever. 

You called his name every few seconds, as quietly as you could while being loud enough for him to hopefully hear. You made about three-fourths of the way down when you heard a familiar sound that made your blood freeze. Your head snapped up to some foliage across the riverbank, panicked eyes zeroing in on the walker making a beeline for the same figure you were trying to make your way toward. 

“Hey!” You shouted. You waved an arm frantically but the stench of blood had the corpse’s entire focus. “Goddamnit!” With no alternative, you ripped off your flannel and put it between your hands and the rope. Bracing your weight mostly on the root above, you stood slightly and all but ran down the slope. Each time you misstepped, you threw your weight onto the rope. It would sling you sharply but with nowhere else to go, you could get right back to the descent. 

Unfortunately, the rope eventually ran out. 

Eyes on the walker getting entirely too close to Daryl, you scrambled to untie the line. “Fuck!” The corpse had dropped to its knees and was crawling the last few feet. You yanked your knife from the holster and cut yourself free in a single swipe, barreling toward the water. “Get away from him!”

It finally noticed you, looking your way while Daryl’s arm was in its rotten clutches. Your knife sank into its skull with ease. As much as the smell made you gag, you grabbed the thing as it toppled and pulled. You couldn’t let it fall into the water. Not with Daryl having an open wound. 

Panting through tears, you freed your knife and crawled toward the archer. If you had been one second later, he’d have been bitten. The way that thought devastated you down to your very soul frightened you. You checked his arm first, just to be sure. No bites. No scratches. There was no time to revel in that relief. You stopped to brush your fingertips over a cut above his right temple. From the fall, you surmised. 

The most concerning injury was that it was indeed his bolt impaling his side and it seemed to have gone all the way through. “Damnit, Daryl, what happened?” You felt lost, hands hovering while your chest began to tighten with the all too familiar heaviness of impending panic. “No, you can’t freak out. You cannot freak out.”

First thing was first. You had to get him out of the water. He would be lucky if bacteria hadn’t already seeped into his wound. You could only pray that Hershel had antibiotics in his possession. 

You shed your rucksack close to a nearby tree. The area would give you a view of the entirety of your surroundings. With Daryl injured, you would need to remain vigilant. You were responsible for the safety of three now. 

Moving him would be difficult. It would be pulling dead weight, and was most definitely over the weight limit a pregnant person should be messing with. But you didn’t have a choice. 

“Okay, little thumper. You just be strong in there while I get your dumbass father out of this mess.”

It was a struggle to get him angled on his right side. You couldn’t drag him flat and risk disturbing the bolt lodged in his skin. Hands tightly gripping his forearms, you began to pull, your boots sliding in the gravel. It was going to be quite the journey but you were moving him little by little. 

With a strained grunt, you paused and leaned forward to put your hands on your knees to catch your breath. Just as you leaned forward to grab hold of him again, a cold slimy hand grabbed onto your bicep, yanking you back. How had you not heard the walker approaching? Wasn’t pregnancy supposed to heighten your senses?

“Fuck!” You grappled with the corpse of a man, finding it tough to keep his clicking teeth away from your arm. He was pushing you back easily but you couldn’t let go to get to your knife. One wrong move would result in a chunk being ripped from your arm. Your muscles were tiring, being pushed to their limit. To make matters worse, you could see another walker shambling its way toward the scrap. There was no hope of fending off two of them. 

You cried out in frustration and lifted your foot to connect the toe of your boot roughly with the corpse’s knee, causing it to stumble. You had one shot. With your forearm pressing into its throat, you were able to grab your knife and sink the blade into the soft skull with a sickening squelch. There was no time to catch your breath as the second one slammed into your side and took off your feet. 

Your legs were pinned under its body, forcing you to battling at an awkward angle to stave off its attempts to rip into your thighs. Your knife was within reach, but grabbing it meant one side would be vulnerable. 

“Goddamnit! Get off me, you decaying bastard!” 

The walker shifted and gave you the opportunity to bend your right knee and place the sole of your boot against its abdomen. A solid kick forced it back. You were free to scramble backward and grab your knife, but when you lifted it to strike, you spotted another walker crawling toward you, its empty eyes giving you a glimpse of your fate. Ripped open, half eaten only to rise again; mindless and starving for a taste of flesh. 

This was it. You’d done all you could. You’d fight them to the death but they had you. It was only a matter of time before—

A bolt pierced the second walker, entering through its temple. It landed in the dirt with a dusty thud. You knew exactly what had happened and once the last walker was dead, you would survey the damage. You flung yourself forward and drove your knife through its right eye. It fell still, its weight heavy on your lap. 

“Goddamnit, Daryl!” You exclaimed. 

The hunter was on his knees at the water’s edge, swaying dangerously. The left side of his body was now void of the bolt, rivulets of blood dripping from his saturated shirt. His crossbow fell from his grip as he pitched forward to land on all fours. 

“Shit.” You wiggled free from beneath the walker, sheathing your knife before dropping to your knees beside Daryl. You laid a gentle hand on the middle of his back. “Hey, let’s get you over there so I can take a look at you.”

“Who—came with—you?” He asked breathlessly, his head remaining bowed as if he just didn’t have the strength to lift it. Hell, he probably didn’t. 

You knew he wouldn’t like the answer. You hated to upset him but you wouldn’t lie. “I came alone.” He visibly tensed, fingers digging into the dirt and rock below him. 

“Why—the fuck—would ya do that?”

“Because the horse came back without you. Because our baby needs their father.” You reached for his bicep and pulled him up onto his knees so that you were able to put his arm across your shoulders. “Because I was worried about you.” 

He gave you a look from the corner of his eye, his head still hanging. “S’a shit reason—to risk the—two’a ya.”

“Did you miss the other two reasons?” You shot back, getting your legs under you so you could lift him without pulling your back or stomach. “Selective hearing, I swear. On three: one. Two. Three!” You managed to get you both upright, but Daryl was quick to curl forward with a sound much too close to a whimper for your liking. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“S’fine. Just—” He trailed off with a languid wave of his hand. You took that to mean he was ready to move and began the short walk to the tree. It didn’t take long but he was somehow even more pale and sweating by the time you helped lower him to recline against the trunk. “Found—found her doll.”

“What?” You weren’t really listening. With his shirt pulled up, you could get a good look at the wound. It was still bleeding sluggishly, but still far too much for your liking. “Did you really pull out that bolt?” You asked while leaning around him to see the back as best you could. 

“Y’ain’t—ain’t listenin’.” The hunter gave you a weak shove, barely moving you at all. “Found—Sophia’s doll.”

“She was here.” Looking around, you saw nothing and you would not leave him to go track. “Where’s the doll?” Daryl jutted his chin toward a downed tree that was close to the shallow water. Even going that meager distance from him felt like you were leaving him unprotected. However, you knew he would hound you until you obliged his request. 

You jogged over, your muscles tired and stomach beginning to feel ill at ease. Sure enough, there laid the doll. You snatched it up and returned to him, taking a moment to place the toy in your bag and pull out supplies. 

“How did this happen?”

“Fell—fell on it.”

“Graceful.” You smirked, ignoring the weak middle finger lifted toward you. “Let’s get this bleeding under control and get back to the farm.” You raised his shirt again but this time he seemed to take notice and went rigid. 

“It’ll keep, just leave it.”

Your mouth gaped. “You can’t be serious.” You admonished him. “I’m not sure you noticed but there is a literal hole in your side. We can’t go back without some sort of treatment first.” His usually bright blue eyes were cloudy when he looked at you. “It’s nearly dark. Stop arguing with me and let’s get this done.”

“Ain’t enough—time to—get back tonight.”

“We can’t stay here, Daryl. We’re sitting ducks.” You started grabbing other things you needed even as he tried to talk you out of it: food, water. 

“I can. Go on—back. Come back—back tomorrow—with help.” He winced when he pressed a palm against the wound so he could shift to a more comfortable position. 

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Y/N, s’not—”

“I said no, Daryl.” You reached for his shirt again and he didn’t stop you but there was a panicked undertone in his eyes. “Just far enough for me to see the wound, okay?” A visible relief; his shoulders dropped and he let his head fall back against the tree. 

The bleeding had slowed, showing signs that it was beginning to clot. That was great news but it didn’t replace all he had already lost. The wound needed a proper cleaning and stitches, both of which you were not well equipped. You could handle it if you had the supplies. You’d sewn yourself up plenty of times. 

With a sigh, you got up to fetch your flannel from where you’d left it near the rope. You were already tearing it into strips before you returned to Daryl’s side. You tried to be as quick as possible; taping down gauze, folding pieces of your flannel to press over those. Lacking enough to make a compression bandage, you tied pieces of material together. 

“Almost done.” You had to lean into his space to pull the makeshift bandage around his back. His tired eyes flitted back and forth between yours while you found yourself glancing at his lips. You cleared your throat and sat back on your heels. “This is gonna hurt but just try to be as quiet as you can.”

Daryl watched you for a moment and then nodded. He visibly tensed and closed his eyes a mere moment before you pulled the material tight around the wound. To his credit, he merely grunted but the hard lines of pain on his face told a different story. 

“There. That’s the best I can do right now.” You were beyond concerned. The thought of spending the night there with the archer being so grievously wounded was intimidating. You knew there was no other choice. One of the canteens was on the ground beside you where you had placed it when grabbing out supplies. If he was going to stand any chance of surviving, Daryl had to cooperate. This should be fun. “I need you to drink some water. You’ve lost a lot of blood. We have to keep you hydrated until we can get out of here.”

“Nah.” Much to your chagrin, he turned his head. “Ya need—it more—than I do.” He was beginning to look dazed, fighting off the overwhelming urge to allow his body to rest. 

“Stop being a brat and drink the water.” You pressed the canteen to his lips, dropping your mask to wear your concern like a second skin. “Please. I promise I have enough for me too.”

You thought he might argue or once again refuse, but he finally parted his lips with a sigh. You tilted the canteen, flinching when his much too cold hand covered yours to help control how much he was getting. 

“I need to build a fire. Keep it small.” You weren’t really talking to him but he hummed in response anyway. He was cold and clammy. You’d bet money that would be worthless in that world that if you checked his pulse, it would be racing. “I think you’re going into shock. I need to get you warm.”

“M’fine.” His voice was quiet, too drained to offer up a convincing tone. 

You went about gathering what you could find that could hold the highest possibility of burning. “You know what, keep telling yourself that. Maybe your stubbornness will pay off.” Placing some rocks down so you could control the flames, you placed your tinder bundle in the center along with some sticks and wood chips for kindling. You had to do this the old fashioned way. Daryl was watching you with slow blinks as you went about your method. 

You thanked whatever deity that was listening for your experience in the wilderness. You were nurtured by the woods growing up. The trees were like family, offering shade, protection, and a means of warmth or preparing your meals. You had learned the ways to survive. Granted, back then, walking corpses that wanted to eat your intestines weren’t a thing. Scared as you were, you knew you could make it. You could make it. But now, you had to keep Daryl alive as well. 

“Finally.” You sat back with a smug grin, watching the fire burn. You just hoped it would be enough. “Come on, let’s get you settled closer to the fire. Then I’ll heat the beans I have. Daryl swatted at your hands. 

“M’fine here.”

You huffed through your nose. “No, you’re not. Your skin is freezing. I don’t have any blankets. We need to keep you warm.”

“Fine.” He began to lever his way to his feet, growling with annoyance once you swooped in to help him. “Can do it—can do it myself.”

“Shut up and let me help.” You didn’t let go and he didn’t try to force you. He was panting by the time you lowered him down to lie on this back. He couldn’t be comfortable. “Um, one second.” There wasn’t a lot left of your flannel but you could make it work. Folding it to the best of your ability, you gently lifted his head and placed the article  beneath it. As an afterthought, you pulled the clean shirt you had grabbed for him and draped it over his upper half. It would have to do for the time being. “Okay, just rest and I’ll wake you for some food and water in a bit.”

Hours passed agonizingly slowly. You had tried to get Daryl to eat but he had refused. At least he drank the water. You yourself had eaten a third of the can of beans. Everything seemed to be going alright until you found yourself regurgitating into the bushes. Your stomach was turning inside out, now rejecting even the water. 

Carol had warned you this would happen but you couldn’t wait. You didn’t regret it either. Daryl would have surely died had you not gone in search of him. 

Wiping your mouth on the back of your hand, you staggered back toward the fire. You were steps away when you realized that Daryl was—talking. And not just talking, but conversing. There’s no one there. 

It felt wrong in some ways to move closer; to be able to hear him. It was as if a person was sitting right next to him. Daryl’s eyes were open; mere slits but open. 

“Screw you.”

“A girl. They—lost a little—girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Tried like hell—to find ya, bro.”

Bro? Daryl had a brother. It was unknown if he was alive or dead. You only knew from Carol. Daryl never let you that close. He was hallucinating which was bad. Very bad. You took a step forward, ignoring your stomach’s protests for the time being. Should you wake him? 

“We went—back for ya. Rick an’ I, we—did right by ya.”

“I ain’t nobody’s bitch.”

“Don’t talk—’bout her like that. Y/N—she’s—diff’rent.”

Wide eyes blinked. He was talking about you. Granted, it was during a moment of psychological weakness but still. It felt even more wrong to allow it to continue. 

“I ain’t gonna be—like our daddy. My kid—ain’t gonna be like us. Like you or me.”

Your heart ached for him. You knew nothing about Daryl’s childhood but now you knew it wasn’t pleasant. Shaking your head, you kneeled next to his arm and placed a hand against his cheek. No fever. This had to be coming from the head injury. “Daryl.” He seemed to be looking right through you. Still, he lifted a hand and let the back of his knuckles brush along your jaw. 

“See, Merle? Told ya—she was diff’rent.” His hand fell away, blue eyes disappearing behind heavy lids. 

“Daryl?” You said urgently, fingers searching along his neck for a pulse. It was there, albeit a little fast but there. You felt weak and allowed yourself to fall back onto your ass, scooting until your back was against the tree. 

From what Carol had told you, Daryl’s brother was vile. He was toxic and the younger Dixon had changed slightly without his influence. She had said Daryl was brash and intimidating, preferred to be alone. Hated to be touched. Yet he had sought out your company twice a week like clockwork. He had talked to you, brief and unimportant statements and questions, but he had talked. He had let you touch him. Intimately. 

“She’s—diff’rent.”

It was dangerous to let your mind wander down the paths it had created from his simple words to a brother who wasn’t there. But let it wander, you did. Maybe Daryl didn’t just care about the baby. Maybe he was impertinent toward you because you had gotten too close. Maybe you had managed to penetrate the walls he had built to protect himself. 

Maybe—just maybe—you had allowed him to pass through your own defenses. 

And that was more terrifying to you than any walking corpse in a dystopian world. 

[futterurl]

Hello! I absolutely love the future man writings you’ve done and wanted to request smut for josh futturman. I can just imagine for his first time getting intimate with a partner he just gets so overly eager that he ends up overstimulating himself and his partner hehe

sry ive been gone for a bit schools been kicking my ass ! anyways yeah i got a little carried away sry if this isnt what u rlly had in mind

WARNINGS: fem!reader, titplay, oral(f!receiving), virgin!josh, p in v, creampie, super soft

- - - - - - - - -

it had been a nice day, going out and spending the day with your boyfriend, josh. you two were sat in your apartment, watching a movie, him holding you in his arms while a bowl of popcorn sat in your lap. his hand held onto your forearm, rubbing back and forth lightly with his thumb.

you loved days like this. you loved your boyfriend. he was the sweetest guy you had ever met, and boy were you glad he was yours. he would constantly try to spend time with you, and would try to teach you about the video games that he played. you always looked up to him.

and to him? lord, you were a goddess. you were this kickass woman who was one of his well respected co-workers, you had such a beautiful personality, and you were drop dead gorgeous to him. he fell in love with you all over again whenever he looked at you.

you both tool each other in with your worries and guilts. he knew that you were more shy, and he did a majority of the talking in public, and wouldn’t try to pressure you with anything. he was so kind to you, you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

while you guys were snuggled up, you started to talk over the movie, not paying it much attention. just talking about funny stories that happened in the past.

“…and she caught me. jacking off. in my room. it was the worst thing ever.” josh was telling the unfortunate story of his poor mother just trying to bring him something, but seeing that mess instead. you couldn’t help but laugh.

“god, if that kinda stuff happened to me, i swear, i’d never look anyone in the eyes again.” you laughed.

“this is a random question, and sorry if it’s intrusive, but…have you ever had…like, sex before?” he asked you, sitting up on the couch so he could look you in your eyes.

you shifted, not used to being asked this question. “i…i have. once. it was a mistake. i don’t know why i did it.”

he started to look a little worried. “did he make you do that?” hoping it wasn’t that.

“oh, no! no! don’t worry, i was fine with it.” you reassured him. “i just…regret it, was all. it wasn’t all that good, just a heat of the moment thing, wanting to do it. we fucked, he came, and that was that. nothing special.”

“did he uh…did he make you…y’know…” he tried to ask in the most not awkward way possible, which was still very awkward.

“make me cum? uh, no. it wasn’t…wasn’t really a priority, i guess. just the experience.” you started to fidget with your hands.

“that’s…yeesh, that’s kinda fucked.” he was a little irritated. was it that difficult to focus on a girl for a few minutes to make her feel good? he didn’t understand it. “i’m sorry it wasn’t good. i just don’t get how he could finish and not care that you didn’t.”

“it’s fine. i don’t really care that much.” you were still a tad bit upset over it, but he was out of your life now. you didn’t have to worry shout him, only being in your happiest relationship yet with josh.

“what about you?” you asked him, curious.

“me? oh, uh, this is kinda sad, but i…haven’t done that kinda stuff.” he started. “it just never kinda…happened. moment was never really right. but now i’m here, with you. i couldn’t be happier.” he hugged you, kissing your jaw.

you rubbed the back of his head. you loved this man more than words could describe.

“i don’t know how to ask this in a way that isn’t awkward, but i’m just gonna go ahead…would you mind if i…if i, uh, made you…you cum?” he asked, looking at you.

you looked at him. “a-are you sure? you don’t have to if you feel bad or anything like that, it’s not your obligation to-”

he cut you off, holding your hands in his. “i…i want to do this. it’s not out of sadness or anger for you…”

you gave him an inquisitive stare.

“okay, maybe it is a little bit.” he admitted. “but i really do wanna do this. i’ve wanted to do this with you…for a little bit now, but i didn’t know how to ask, or bring it up. you feeling good makes me happy.”

it was like he was trying to make you fall in love again and again.

“josh, that’s really sweet…i…i do think i may be ready to try this stuff out with you.” you started to get a little shy.

“okay…okay…great.” he tried to hype himself up, telling himself that it’s real and this was happening. “just, uh, tell me if you’re uncomfortable or anything like that, and we can stop, go back to watching the movie, no questions asked, okay?”

you smiled, knowing he was your safe place. “thank you so much.” you gave him a kiss on his lips. he went and deepened the kiss, holding your frame in his arms.

you made out, him slowly getting on top of you, laying you in the couch. his hands went from holding your body to feeling around: touching your hips, your waist, your breasts, everything. he gently caressed one of your breasts, to which you let a moan out at.

“did you like that?” he asked.

you nodded, pulling your shirt up. “please.” you yanked it off your body. he stared at you with awe, your breasts clad with a bra. you looked so beautiful to him.

“can i…can i take this off?” he asked, fingers playing with your bra. you nodded, reaching back and unclasping it.

“how the hell do you unclasp that so easily?” he discarded your bra, asking while staring at your bare breasts.

“lots of practice, i guess. you get used to it after wearing these since the ripe age of 13.” you giggled.

his hand moved towards your breasts, but hesitated. he didn’t want to squeeze them too tight, or hurt you.

“you can touch then, josh. it’s okay. please. i want you to.” you reassured him, guiding his hand to gently caress your left tit. he played with it, new to the sense of it.

“it’s so soft…” his thumb ran over your nipple, causing you to shudder. he could tell you liked that.

“do you think i could…suck on them?” he asked, testing the waters. you nodded your head slowly.

“yes, please. whatever you like.”

“this is about you, though, not me. i want this to feel good for you.” he looked at you with concern in his eyes. sure, he was getting very caught up in the moment, but he knew he ultimately wanted you to have a good takeaway from this: you were someone he loved so much, he wanted to watch and make you feel good.

“josh, i want you to do this, don’t worry.” you smiled at him. he was so careful with you, it made you feel so delicate. so special.

he leaned his head down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. his lips wrapped around it while his tongue ran over it.

you ran your fingers through his hair. you had thought he’d be a boob guy, and this for sure proved it. he loved feeling them, the texture so foreign to him.

he moved on to the other breast, suckling onto your other nipple, to which you let out a gasp at. it felt…good.

he played with your other breast in his hand, giving it gentle squeezes. you let out a hushed moan. you didn’t think it’d feel good.

his head lifted up, kissing you again. it was a deep kiss, his hand digging to play with the hem of your pants.

“please, wanna make you feel good down there.” he pleaded, looking at you for permission.

you had never been like this before. someone focusing on you felt…unbelievable. it really did.

you nodded, unzipping your pants. “please, josh, want this so bad. want you so bad.”

he lifted your hips up, helping you shimmy out of your pants and panties. you were there, completely bare in front of him. he took his shirt off, trying to make you feel more comfortable. he stared at you with awe.

he couldn’t believe you were with him. you were so beautiful, and had an even better personality. he couldn’t believe that you loved him, and that you were willing to do this with him. he felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

“is this okay?” he asked, lowering himself, his head in between your legs. he rubbed your thighs, trying to help you stay comfortable. he could see your slick. he wanted to get a taste so badly.

“yes, please josh. please.” you wailed.

he obliged, taking a long lick up your slit.

“oh, fuck…” you moaned. loud. you hadn’t ever felt that good before.

“you okay?” he asked, making sure he didn’t do something wrong.

“i’m great, just felt really fucking good…holy shit.” you looked down at the sight of him, in between your thighs.

he dipped in again, this time bringing his tongue to lay flat on your clit. you shuddered, feeling all sorts of sensations. he held your hips steady, running his tongue in tight circles around your clit.

you swore to god, you could hear him groaning into your cunt. he was letting out little noises in exasperation as he pleasured you, rubbing your clit with his tongue, getting into a rhythm.

“jesus christ, josh, i’ve never felt so good, fuck…” you could barely get the words out in between moans.

he licked another stripe down your slit and ran his tongue on your entrance. you tugged at his hair a big, cautious yet excited to see where this was gonna go.

his tongue slowly crept inside of you, feeling around as you scratched at his scalp, letting little whimpers out. he held tightly onto your thigh as he started to tongue fuck you.

you threw your head back in pure ecstasy. you were starting to get close.

“josh…g’na come soon…fuck…” you panted out.

“please.” he said, moving his mouth up and tasting you all over. “do it f’ me. come on my face. please. you’re so hot. fuck. come all over me.”

he moved his mouth and latched onto your clit again. from there, he just sucked. your orgasm approached.

you let out a cry as your hips started to spasm ever so slightly, your body contorting. josh continued to suckle on your clit while you rode out your orgasm.

“oh my god…” you breathed. “how are you so fucking good at that?”

he lifted his head up, mouth coated in your cum. “don’t know. just pure talent i guess.”

you lightly pushed him. “fuck you.”

“i mean, if you’d be ever so kind.”

you looked at him, starting to laugh, but understanding what he wanted: you.

you moved yourself closer to him, closing the space in between you two.

“please.” you said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “i..i think i’m ready for this. fuck me, josh. please.”

“fuck, i’m so fucking hard for you right now, holy shit.” he kissed you, lying you back down on the couch. he pulled his pants down, huge erection standing up in his underwear.

“do you see how crazy you make me? you’re so perfect.” he looked down as he slowly started to take off his underwear, cock standing out.

you blushed. even in situations like this, he still made you feel so special.

he got on top of you, cock springing out, almost touching your delicate folds. you shuddered.

“a-are you sure you wanna do this, josh?” you asked him. doing something like this for the first time was really important to you, so you hoped you could make it important to him.

“yes, there’s no one i’d rather do this with than you.” he kissed you softly, sliding his cock through your slit, bumping his tip to your clit. you both groaned lightly.

“i…i’m gonna put it in now…okay?” he asked for permission.

you smiled. “yes. please.”

he used one of his hands to steady himself and his other one to hold yours as he slowly pushed inside of you. he was feeling all sorts of new sensations, all good like he’d never felt before. your walls clenched around him. he let out a moan as he slowly inched himself inside you.

you held his hand, gripping it tight. it had been awhile since you’d done this. it was a big stretch, but it felt so damn good to have him inside of you.

he finally bottomed out, cupping your cheek. “you’re so tight…oh my god…i knew it’d feel good but…didn’t expect this…” he was breathing heavily, catching up with his senses. he felt like he was going to cum just from being in you.

“josh, want you t’ start moving.” you pleaded, feeling so full but desperate for friction.

he obliged, giving experimental thrusts and letting out low groans in the process. your tight walls kept sucking him in, as if they didn’t want him to pull out.

“fuck, you feel so good. i love you so much.” he started to thrust a bit faster now, hands on your hips, holding you steady. every time his hips met yours you could feel yourself groan with delight. even though this was his first time, he wanted to take care of you.

he started to thrust hard, moaning sweet nothings into the room. every word he said professed his love for you and your body.

one thrust in particular hit a certain part inside you that made you let out a really high-pitched moan. he stopped, looking at you.

“shit, you okay?” he asked.

“yeah, m’ fine, that just felt really good.” you gave him a smile.

he tried to angle his hips to hit that sensitive spot again, which he was successful with after a few harsh thrusts. he abused that sweet spot with every thrust, leaving you a moaning mess. he took your lips into his, kissing you like your lives depended on it.

“josh, close, shit.” you could barely form words with how good you felt.

“me too, gonna cum, fuck.” he started to move incredibly fast, moving like there was no tomorrow. “please, cum on my cock.”

you could feel the knot on your stomach start to snap, riding out your orgasm. you were letting out these pornographic moans that were driving him insane, leading him to cum right after you did.

but he didn’t stop.

“feel too damn good. can’t stop. shit.” he continued his quick and deep thrusts, leaving you screaming.

“josh, can’t. already came. oh my god.” you were a moaning mess, feeling his cock penetrating your tight walls right after having an earth shattering orgasm.

“please, need you to cum again. wanna make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.” he moaned, trying to hit that spot inside you with every single thrust, making himself feel overstimulated in the process.

you felt another orgasm start to bubble up inside you as he kept going. the knot snapped yet again when he led his hand to your clit, rubbing it in circles with his thumb.

“cum for me, please. cum. wanna make you feel good. please. need you to cum on my cock again. i’ll do anything.” he begged and pleaded, bot stopping his aggression to your cunt.

you were practically screaming, head thrown back and breathing like a madman. he helped you ride through your orgasm, him taking a few extra seconds to reach his own again, as well.

he eventually stopped, laying on you carefully as to not hurt you.

“sorry, got…got a little carried away.” he said in between breaths. he felt so woozy.

“no, it felt really good josh. thank you.” you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as he lay on top of you.

“was it that good?” he asked, making sure you got as much satisfaction as he did.

“i’ve never felt that good in my life. serious.” you replied. he knew how to make you feel special and really good. “you’re amazing.”

he held you, planting a kiss on your cheek. “i hope you know how much you mean to me. i love you so much, and i wanna be with you forever.”

you were practically gushing. he was so darn cute. “i love you more.”

[wooahaes]

up in smoke

pairing: non-idol!vernon x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship au.

warnings: food. burnt food. vernon is trying his best.

word count: ~1.1k

daisy's notes: ive said this before but he is simply sooo <3

Vernon remembered when he went bungee-jumping with his friends years ago, before he ever met you. They had done rounds of rock, paper, scissors on the bus ride there, and he had ended up losing, which meant he had to go first. He remembered how it felt to get on the edge, the worker walking him through it while his stomach was twisting itself into knots. Bend his knees, hold his arms out as he falls, and enjoy the thrill. If he wanted to be poetic, he could say that falling in love felt a lot like that: a blind jump toward a joy he could see in you. Both had been worth it. He’d gained a sick video of him bungee jumping, courtesy of his friends, and the leap into love had given him a relationship he felt so entirely safe in.

Baking cupcakes should not be harder than bungee jumping. Why the fuck was this harder than bungee jumping?

He coughed as he opened up the oven for the second time today, smoking plumbing out of it and setting off the alarm. Shit. Fuck. This shouldn’t be this hard. He ripped the cupcake tray out of the oven, tossing it onto the smooth stovetop before cracking a window and then going for the alarm. With the apartment silent, he let out a heavy sigh before leaning against the counter again. Vanilla cupcakes had no right being this hard to bake. Why was baking harder than normal cooking? He’d learned normal cooking! But every time he swore the batter tasted okay when he did a tiny taste test, something went wrong with the actual baking half of things. The picture on his laptop was taunting him now, all perfectly baked with perfectly placed buttercream on top of it… 

He let out a sigh, shutting his eyes. Okay. He could work with this. As much as he hated to admit it, maybe it was a good thing that you were stuck at work today. Originally, it was a good way for him to surprise you with cupcakes. He pulled at the loose bow tying his apron around him, throwing it onto the counter before heading straight to the bedroom to strip off his shirt and change into something that he didn’t accidentally get flour on. 

Fine. He couldn’t bake you cupcakes. That didn’t mean shit when he had a car and money and the ability to just go buy the damn things. Easy solution.

He picked out yours and his favorite flavors for the larger box… Only to check his phone and see where you had texted him three times in a row. Oh shit.

baby???

what did you burn????? 

omg wait are you okay??? did you burn yourself??? i tried calling seungkwan and he didn’t know where you were 😭

Shit. Not what he meant to happen on your birthday. He dropped a tip into the tip jar, thanking the worker as he took off back to his car. When did you get off early? Shit, he thought he’d know—but you never mentioned anything today. He fought the urge to drive a little over the speed limit to get home to you, just shooting off one quick text to say ‘omw’ as he hoped that would calm your fears. The moment he parked, he took off running as fast he could without damaging the cupcakes to get back into the building. It was a weird half-jog that would definitely earn him some strange looks, but it was far from the first time he’d done something foolish while thinking of you. The elevator swiftly brought him up to his floor, and he rushed to get back into the apartment. 

And there you were, dumping out the burnt cupcakes as you tried to deal with the still-lingering burnt smell in the apartment. When you looked up, relief flooded your eyes as you saw him.

“Oh my god, Vernon, I was terrified you’d burnt yourself—” You rushed over to him, only to stop short as he held up a pastel pink box of cupcakes. “... What did you—”

“I wanted to bake you those funfetti cupcakes you were talking about,” he said. “But, uh… You can probably figure out what happened.” 

You took the box from him, only to immediately set it aside in favor of kissing him. He’d stiffened up in surprise, but relaxed a moment later as his hands fell to your hips. When you drew away, you just gave him a shy smile.

“I was worried,” you said. “I thought you’d hurt yourself.” You brushed his hair back from his eyes, frowning at him a little. “But… You were gonna bake me cupcakes?”

“I tried,” he admitted. “But, uh… I think baking was a little ambitious.” He drew you closer, body pressing against yours. “The first time, the oven was too hot, aaand the second time I took ‘em out too early… and then put them back in for too long.”

With a pout, you squished his cheeks. “You’re so sweet. You didn’t have to do any of that.” 

He drew your hands away from his face, letting them drop onto his shoulders. “You literally made me a cake this year, babe. I wanted to do something nice.” He nodded toward the box you set aside. “I just got us a half dozen. Didn’t get to pick up candles since you came home early.”

With a giggle, you pressed a clumsy kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Guilty,” you said before drawing away from him. You picked up the box of cupcakes and started to make your way over to the dinner table. “I was only working a half day today. I tried to get the full day, but I kinda had a major meeting this morning, so…”

Vernon followed you into the apartment soon enough, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you in. “It’s all good,” he said. “You wanna go out, or—”

“God, no.” You turned around to face him. “I’m going out with friends this weekend instead. I just thought,” you draped your arms around his neck, “we could have a nice night in. Movies, dinner…” You looked at the box behind you. “And dessert.”

He nuzzled his nose against your cheek, pressing a soft kiss against it a moment later. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, squeezing you once. “Happy birthday, baby.” 

taglist: @twancingyunhao@synthetickitsune@wonuziex@porridgesblog@staranghae @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

GOD chapter 59 was SO GOOD n i have a lot to say so sending an ask instead of leaving it on the post.

i /love/ when you make things hyper detailed, because your shading techniques are so much fun to sit n stare at and soak in for a while. that being said, the coloring of the wine spilling is what does it for me this time. it still would have been really cool in bw, but not as cool as seeing all the shades of red over the dark blue bg. you did the glass really well too!! I don't think there's a noticeable difference between the wine color inside and outside the glass which is fine bc it's clear, so it RLY makes me appreciate the lighting you have around the glass rim to show the edge in contrast. that tiny little detail makes the image for me. stellar work. i love it

also i do wanna throw in appreciation for the handwritten serif. super well done at first glance it did look like you'd jus typed it out. idk what texture you have on the brush you use for words but it's rly nice to look at up close.

i think the color kinda tipped me off but i waffled bc i couldn't remember if either of his parents spoke in serif font and was a bit daunted to dig thru 50+ chapters to confirm who it was if it didn't turn out to be them. i'm glad i looked at your tags tho haha saved me the trouble. what a way to end the act too!! i read this one on my phone and was scrolling thru the images at full size and after four or so i kept expecting it to cut off. it was a very pleasant surprise to have it keep going, worth the wait to have a longer chapter :)

maybe it jus wasn't meant to be a la sabo getting the letter from sally. it might have to be stelly after all tho there are things that come before then. what a bad time to have one or both of his parents speak to him for the first time that night. oof can't wait for the next act lets goooo

Oh wowww what a beautifully long review!

Thanks so much im glad you like how it turned out, i’m really happy with it, too! Ive never drawn fluids like this before, but i really needed this page to have that extra kick because it was such a short one.

Because i couldnt figure out how to make this moment look slow mo with multiple different panels on one page, I really wanted to make a piece that is like,, frozen in time instead.

A page like this, you can keep on it as long as you’d like. You can make it as slow mo as you want it to be.

The serif lettering is that of outlook’s!

I dont know if you can see the difference between this and my usual handwriting, but it’s supposed to look taller. Higher up. Neater. Cleaner. (Still my handwriting though so like so actually neat or clean, but you know like,,, in comparison to the norm.)

His dad only talks in one scene, and his mother has never said anything yet, so i dont blame you if you couldnt find it. In my. Large repertoire of chapters ive accumulated.

I definitely felt the same about the pages when drawing them. But probably the opposite feeling lol. Mine was more like “ugh i forgot theres so many. How many more of these do I have to get through??? How did i do this the first act ending with 11 pages???”

Im so glad you guys are on the edge of your seats with the letter :)

Thanks for the ask!

[euno11a]

Tattooed Hearts II

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period, insecurities

Pt I • Pt III • Pt IV • Pt V• Pt VI • Pt VII • Pt VIII

***

What a jackass! Months of not seeing you, and all he had to say was ‘glad you’re back?!’ Seriously? Watching him walk away so nonchalant made your blood boil, he was a player. What did you expect? He wasn’t gonna drop to his knees and start sobbing! It was dumb if you to even have hopes of him doing that. You glared at the closed office door, hoping he would trip over a stone and scrape his knees. Yes, it was childish, but scraping your knees hurts! You opened your juice, sipping it while cursing Jungkook out in your mind.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard the buzzing of the tattoo gun again, “Is the juice good?” V asked with a small smile.

You nodded happily, drinking even more. The question stood in your mind, how did they know it was your favourite drink? You hadn’t told any of them apart from Jungkook…oh my god. OH MY GOD! Was he still thinking about you?! No, there’s no way, all he thinks about is getting his dick wet, he was not thinking about you. It was probably just a mix up with a flavour. V continued with the tattoo, mentioning that you’d have to come back for a second round to do the colouring and final touches. You agreed, wanting to finally have the tattoo finished. Time went by and a woman walked into the parlour, she was wearing a black latex looking skirt with a matching top, fishnets and some funky looking heels. She was his next client? Good god. Listen, you weren’t one for being insecure. You loved your body! It was amazing! But looking at the woman that just walked in, you couldn’t help but compare yourself just a little bit. She had the ‘perfect body,’ almost no body hair, an hour glass shape, perfect face (probably because of Botox), she was the ideal woman. So watching Jungkook step out of his office and lean on the doorway, smirking at her, made me know that it wasn’t just a touch up that was about to happen. I groaned and looked at V, “Am I almost done…?” “Yep! Just gonna wipe it down with an alcohol wipe and tape you up, then you’re free to go.” He smiled politely at you, which you returned. You luckily finished just before the moans echoed through the parlour, the woman from before, moaning and screaming for Jungkook. You made a small face of disgust, walking to the front desk to pay. RM gave you a sympathetic look, setting up the machine so you could pay. The worst part, was that you could hear his grunts. The grunts he used to make when he fucked you, when he touched you, when he ate you out, even when you bent over to pick something up. Now you’re realizing that you weren’t that special to him. You were a quick fuck and drop. After paying, you walked out of the parlour, a sense of rage present in your gut. Who the hell did he think he was? Honestly, he will never find someone to love forever. He'll always be a player. *** “Is that even sanitary?” Lindsay asked as you guys walked to the bar. You’d came home and told her about your adventures at the tattoo parlour. You weren’t sure if she was treating you to drinks because she felt bad for you, or if it was because she needed to wipe away the vivid picture you painted for her of Jungkoon fucking a woman in his office. You shrugged, stopping in front of the bar, pulling the door open. “I don’t think he’d care even if it wasn’t. Such an asshole…” You mumbled, getting seats at the bar top. You ordered your drinks, a gin and tonic and a dirty Shirley, waiting for the bartender to make them, Lindsay nudged you.

“Look at Mr Hottie over there! God, I’d let him bend me over the bar and fuck me.” She said proudly, biting her bottom lip.

You almost choked on your spit, “I’m sorry, wHaT? Lindsay, you can’t just go around saying that!”

She leaned back and smiled at you, “Come on! I haven’t been fucked in a good while, my vibrators not cutting it anymore! I need a real dick.” Turning her head, she smiled at the guy, winking.

“I thought you were here to drink with me, not get fucked by some random guy.” The drinks came and you instantly drank some, you had a feeling this was gonna be a long night. Grabbing her drink, Lindsay smiled at you once again, walking in the direction of the guy. You groaned and leaned your head on your hand, mixing your drink. Maybe it was from the day, but the gin didn’t feel strong enough. After about 30 minutes, you turned to look at your friend, but not to your surprise, she was gone and so was the guy. “Hope you have a nice fuck.” You mumble to yourself. “Thank you, I will.” The voice caught you off guard, making you jump and turn your head. Jesus Howard Christ. Jungkook smirked down at you, leaning on the bar top. “It was nice seeing you again today. Still looking good.” You didn’t reply, don’t speak to the devil, he’ll hurt you. You sipped your drink in silence, trying not to pay attention to the muscular man beside you. “Come on, you could at least say hi.” “You can at least tell me when you decide to cheat.” You shot back, angrily. Damn it, where’s Lindsay when you need her? “Woah, woah, woah, I never cheated.” Jungkook replied, grabbing his scotch on the rocks. “We were never together, so technically I didn’t actually cheat on you.” Was he serious right now? “Oh, sorry, my bad. I was a fuck toy.” Your jaw clenched, hand gripping the glass of gin and tonic tightly. You could see him smirk from the corner of your eye, “You were a good fuck toy. Always let me use your pretty pussy…fuck you so good. Bet you haven’t had good dick since.” “I’ve had plenty of dick, many that've topped yours.” You snarked back, god, where was your buffer? What happened to ignoring him? And what was with all the lies? “Sure you have. Speaking of, where’s that friend of yours? Did she dump you for dick?” He was trying to get a ride out of you….it was working. “No, she escaped before you came. God blessed her today, but I unfortunately haven’t had his graces placed upon me yet.” You could hear him chuckle lowly, his laugh was deep and husky…fuck, it was hot. “Come on, Y/N, we both know you don’t worship god. You like to worship me when you’re on your hands and knees, waiting to be fucked like a good girl.” He whispered in your ear, using that soft but husky voice you liked. Why’d he have to say your name? Why couldn’t he have kept his stupid mouth shut? “That’s in the past. I’m never going to stoop to a level so low ever again.” Grabbing your bag, you placed a $20 bill on the bar top, paying for you and your friend’s drink. You pushed by Jungkook and made your way to the exit. The air outside was refreshing, something you craved after being stuck in there with Jungkook and his sweet smelling cologne. When you were walking away, your name was called, but you knew it was him. You weren’t gonna answer this time. Not now, not ever again.

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