#ICY MAIL

[icyminghao]

you’ve reached icyminghao!

NOELLE . SHE/HER . 19 . MY THOUGHTS

╰┈➤ SVT & BND WRITER.

NAVI → mlist . all my work . fic recs . faves

NEW! → why didn’t you tell me? ft. xu minghao

REQUESTS? closed :( → guidelines . taglist

NET → kflixnet . k-labels . caratsland . caratlibrary

[icys-junkyard]

Adaman: ...Are time capsules also that popular in the future?

Akari: lol no, literally no one wants to sit and wait for it. We can get mail in days to weeks depending on the distance. Who the hell wants to wait 10 or more years to get their own shit back

[andy-clutterbuck]

Offending Angels | 2000

[dndtreasury]

Frostmeer Scale Mail by Vostil_DMG

[nearivers]

The Trix are back

[gammasgrim]

A Gungnir variant of my wonderful partner @lyrasomnium's OC; Emblody Napswipe, courier Flare Droid of the Empire Zero

[hoenniswheretheheartis]

MAILS BACK

MAILS BACK

[heich0e]

no because everyone's right you and suna would make the best couple I can just tell

[dykesbites]

oh my a wonderful little creature... little one you look like a hedgehog that grew up into a deer

[smbhax]

From "The Icy Fingers of Jack Frost!" in Tales of Suspense #45, September 1963. Stan Lee plot, Robert Bernstein script, Don Heck pencils & inks, Sam Rosen letters.

[icyminghao]

noelle!! we haven’t talked in a while I need to pop in more 💔💔 hru doing tho?? I hope everything is going good 🫶🫶 never forget that leehan w long hair is insane and we need to hide the scissors 😔

ZANNA BB HI OMG IMYSM ☹️☹️ i’m sorry for not interacting more i’ve been so busy with work and everyt lately aaaaaaaaaa life 😔

BUT i’ve been good!!! never been better hehe how about you??? how’s life been treating you 😋😋

also leehan with long hair is truly phenomenal we fr need to hide the scissors i’ll be so sad if he cuts his hair

[icyhotheartwritings]

The next time one of my fc friends buys something from my retainers I am going to bite them!!

[carolinebouivier]

connaissance

[lunarw0rks]

*groveling on the floor* nice simon

pleeaase anything w big sweet man simon 😭🩵

ugh… you know what's been on my mind lately?? neighbor!au with all my favorite men - but especially simon! here are some of my thots;

he's so... awkward and off-putting. in the sweetest way. like a stray dog that's only allowed to bite you. neighbor!simon, who's the perfect coresident. rarely home, and if he is, you don't even notice! except for those awkward elevator rides...

obviously, simon being the most vehement introvert, does his best to avoid him. but it's a shady apartment building. things happen; maintenance or rowdy visitors blocking the stairway. so sometimes it's easier to suffer thirty seconds of agonizing silence.

there was you. across the hall from the strange, intimidating man. it's difficult not to be frightened, especially when his way of communicating is through grim eye contact, or god forbid a deep sigh when you accidentally bump into him.

neighbor!simon is never upset with you, though. grumpy is merely his default :( for many reasons. but he always feels awful when you give him that anxious look or go out of your way to make space for him in the narrow hall.

it's not every day he meets someone like you, quiet and respectful of his boundaries. let alone live next to. so... he began to make peace his own way. taking advantage of him always being up at dawn; salting the pavement by your patio to ensure your safe commute to work. cleaning up the stack of mail that the courier tossed at your box, tucking it in neatly.

aaaand eventually moves on to more outgoing gestures. knocking on your door, two little taps with his knuckle. asking if you heard "that noise" outside, purely to make sure you were alright. partially his overthinking getting the better of him, also a cheeky move on his part to see your face.

finds a way to learn more about you, even when you're at your most bashful. typically, when he's caught you in your nightclothes, all pampered and ready for bed. next to him, you feel ridiculous, as if he's not wearing the most basic athleisure.

sometimes neighbor!simon will lean against the entrance of the building, watching cars and listening to the city noise. but he isn't out there for fun. in his mind he's waiting on someone; you. when he hears the creak of the rickety door opening, his posture becomes even straighter than usual.

"bloody cold out here, isn't it?" his gruff voice murmurs, breath visible with every word. months ago, the presence would've startled you. but you'd grown used to his very predictable, unpredictable routine of running into you.

you sigh out your words, rubbing your icy fingers together. no gloves, he notices, but doesn't acknowledge. "why aren't you inside, simon? place is pretty cozy if you look past the water damage."

simon scoffs, "i like the cold," he places his hands into his pockets and reaches for the door handle. "y' workin' today, love?" he inquires, despite noticing your work bag slung over your shoulder.

you mutter an unenthusiastic 'yes', exhaustion evident in your features. it's too damn early for you to be out and about, struggling to make ends meet.

he hums to himself as he walks away, waiting until your figure disappears before crossing the street. he's on his way to the nearest shop.

that evening, when you return to your flat with dragging feet, there's no sign of neighbor!simon. out front, out back, or in the hall. only sign of life is the flickering lamp peaking under the gap of his front door. frankly, you're too exhausted to think about it much.

you raise your key to the lock, stepping forward when it gives way. something blocks your foot, nearly sending you tumbling forward. you peer down at the quaint gift box, nearly embarrassed at the tumble it gave you. proves that your post-work tunnel vision is no joke.

curiously, you examine it. no fancy wrapping paper, plain cardboard. and in place of the ribbon is some decorative twine, halfway decently tied into the shape of a bow. with a gentle tug, you release it and take off the lid. the aroma of cardboard is stronger now, as well as a spritz of a very familiar cologne.

gloves; knitted and coordinated to match your winter jacket. you smile to yourself, taking one last look at simon's door behind you, just as he shuts off the lamp for the night, the spotty yellow glow ceasing.

waiting on you to get home safe, no matter how late. of course, there's a price tag on them. he's not that showy, or crafty. anything he'd try to knit would end up a crumpled slab of yarn.

stepping inside your flat, you set your things down on the counter and run your finger over the soft, thick material. you can already picture the relief these will be on your walk, no longer clocking in with stiff, frozen fingers. new winterwear was on your list for months, but you're notoriously bad at gifting yourself nice — basic — things. and apparently, it shows.

the hollow box rattles when you set it down, as do your keys. finally, you slip them on, thinking of all the days you passed your neighbor simon. never knowing how observant he could be, in the sweetest way.

and they're a perfect fit, of course.

[crispy-chan]

itzy for the ask game !!

*rubs hands*

okay so let's go: itzy

bias list: ryujin / lia / yuna / chaeryoung + yeji (on the same spot) -- okay so ryujin is very swaggy, lia in wannabe made my heart melt and yuna is closest to my age so yeah :>

fav song: wannabe + not shy -- fun fact i actually woke up the day not shy came out and watched it after release and wasn't that big of a fan but i began to grow on me like a few months ago and now i'm obsessed

"Hey there hey there urineun Great pair great pair ni mami" this part makes me ascend lol

send me a group and i'll reply with my bias order and fav song

[savorypink]

focus!

you are everything. he's just alex.

smut.

"You said I'd get an A. What is this?"

You toss the paper in his direction as if it's contaminated. The B minus scribbled in the corner of your paper marks the beginning of the plague of imperfection threatening to riddle your body. If you held it any longer, your fingertips would've turned black. Alex merely stands there, but his heart begs to jump out of his chest.

"Well, uh," He stammers, admittedly cutely. "I had other papers to finish, and you asked me to do yours while I was busy..."

Your lips curl into a pout, and Alex feels his jeans tighten. "So, I'm not a priority?"

"No, no, no! It's not like that!" His voice is drenched in panic while yours remains coated in molasses. "I just...had things to do, y'know?"

"Important things? More important than me?"

You bat your lashes this time, and his knees turn to pudding. "Never! No!"

Opening your laptop, you ignore his reddening features and click on your e-mail. "Here's what's going to happen: I'm going to ask for a rewrite, and you're gonna write me a brand new paper—one that'll get me an A. Understand?"

He nods frantically, but you don't see with your head buried in your computer. "Verbal confirmation, please." You reiterate. 

"Whatever you say."

You peer from your laptop to smile at him, sweet and warm as spring. "You're the best, Aly."

Alex granted every wish you pleaded for whenever you waved a manicured finger. Your friends had been kind enough to direct you to him at a campus party. Timid and reeking of cigarettes, he fumbled with his flirting as he tried to keep his eyes off your chest. Your gaze proved too intense for him, and it wasn't like you were listening anyway. You gathered that Alex majors in monkeys and is in a band called Literature. Something tells you that you've mixed those two things up, but as long as he agreed to do your work, it didn't matter what he did on the side—or what he did at all. You ruled the pristine hallways of your university while he meekly sniffed the breeze in your wake. You've given more attention to the gum underneath your shoes.

It plucks your nerves when you realise he's still standing there, but you open your Myspace and begin scrolling. "You can go now. You have a paper to write."

Your brutal, icy shoulder only makes him eager to restore your warmth, but Alex isn't partial to a little bit of snow, and you could be a blizzard at times. "Well, I did write your paper, and um—"

"And what?" Your fuse is as short as your skirt.

His shaky fingers fiddle with the white sleeves of his hoodie, nausea and lust churning and warming his stomach. "You still haven't paid me. And there's the paper before that..."

And the one before that, too. You haven't been holding your end of the bargain, and the poor boy is within his right to complain. But, oh, you're just so busy! Sports, school, getting your nails done—okay, you may have told a tale or two to get out of doing your assignments, but what did he think making a deal with you would entail? If anything, he should be thankful for the attention. You don't have time to waste on boys.

Closing your laptop, you rise from your desk. As you take two steps forward, Alex takes two timid steps backwards until you've backed him into your bed.

"But Aly," you whine as you straddle him, "I told you I was busy that day! And I don't pay you to write papers that don't get me an A. In fact, I think you've been slacking."

Alex begins fisting the pink bed sheets in abundance, the sweet scent of your cotton candy perfume inescapable and dizzying. "No! 's not true!"

You pout with faux sympathy as your fingers work on unbuckling his belt. "Yes, it is! I'm worried about you, actually..." You cup his chin and turn his head to examine the acne along his jawline. "You're breaking out like crazy! Stress causes pimples, you know!" You exclaim. 

Your touches, while minimal and featherlight, nearly make him cream his pants. His large Bambi eyes look up at you in spectacle and guidance as you pull him out of his jeans, the leaky tip of his cock barely grazing the silk of your panties.

"My poor Aly, you're stressed 'cause you're not focused!" You pull your panties to the side before sinking onto him. Your hand clamps over his mouth before he can let out a pathetic, low groan. "You gotta stop worrying about everything and focus on me!"

"Y-yeah? You think?" His body melts into the sheets as your core swallows him whole, his eyes painfully rolling behind his skull. "Fuck, you're so tight..."

You take his lifeless hands and guide them under your skirt. His clammy palms restore to life to squeeze the supple flesh of your ass while his hips needily buck into you, a plea for movement on your end. Since you're feeling generous, you peel off your shirt and toss your bra to the side. Part of your deal was that he only saw you naked when your grades were above average. You begin with small, courteous bunny hops on his dick, and Alex is already mewling, his nails digging deliciously painfully into your skin. You hiss, and you remove his hands from your ass and place them on your chest, bouncing on him harsher and faster.

"You're not even looking at me! It's like you don't even care!" Your frown is prominent in your words, and you know he'll light himself on fire if it means you'd never have to cry. His eyes creak open, albeit slowly. The sun outside your window casts warm rays onto your form, your skin and hair shimmering brightly without effort, evidently celestial. The only thing you need is a halo.

"Huh?" His tone is reminiscent of how he stares at you, love-drunk and in a blissful, rose-coloured haze. Your bouncing slows, and Alex quickly throws a fit, languidly and whiny, squeezing your breasts needily. Your core tightens its embrace around him, your slick dribbling hot and slippery down his weeping cock. The bed creaks as you dip to his eye level, the bubblegum flavour of your lipgloss mere kisses away as your lips ghost over his trembling mouth.  

"See? You don't even listen!" You wail as you glide your pulsating walls up and down his cock at a snail's pace. "I've been so kind and sweet to you, and you can't even get me an A. I thought you liked me. I thought you'd be good for me."

His grubby paws claw and clutch at your skirt while his legs kick wildly at nothing. The movements rumble your bed, and your meticulously positioned stuffed animals fall to their sides. Your name spills from his mouth like a broken faucet, and your hips show no sign of speeding despite your core being enamoured by his desperation. "I'm good! Promise!"

"I know, baby. You just need to focus!" You kiss his flushed cheek before towering above him again. "So, what are you gonna do for me?"

You resume your bounces, and Alex rejoices with a hoarse moan. His large hands enclose your breasts to toy with them roughly, squeezing and kneading until your nipples respond in stiffness. "I'm gonna write you a paper. A good one! Really good..."

You give a roll of your hips as a courtesy. "Good boy."

His sloppy hips meet your bunny hops halfway as something sticky and hot begins to trickle down his cock. Your ride gets slippery and, to your annoyance, messier. You mask your desperation with aggression and bounce faster, your hands full with the sweaty fabric of his polo shirt. A particular spot within your core is struck, and your walls quiver around him in surrender, and, just this once, you moan. Alex stumbles in your wake, weakly moaning as he splotches your walls with his warm, irritatingly gluey release.

His whining and pants persist as you climb off his lap, ricocheting off the walls of your small dorm. You give him one last once-over as he liquefies into your sheets, churning into a puddle of pathetic lust and goo. You dig through your chest underneath your bed and fish out a fresh pair of panties, pulling off your worn ones and tossing them across Alex's deflating and expanding chest. He flinches cutely.

"For your troubles." You snort as you pull on fresh panties. You don't realise how low on panties you are until you pull on your shirt; perhaps you've been too generous with your handouts.

"They're doing dorm inspections today, so don't overstay your welcome. And clean yourself up, please?" you instruct, pulling on your jacket before throwing your gym bag over your shoulder. "I'd invite you to my practice, but I know you'll be busy with my paper tonight."

"Yeah..." He huffs. "Busy..."

You swing the door open and smile. "You're the best, Aly."

As you exit, your descent downstairs halts when you pull out your phone to relay a message your favourite puddle of goo.

There's Clearasil and pimple patches in my drawer. Thank me later. x

Opening the outside door, you remember one more thing.

And I want my panties back!!!