#Loose sugar level

[new-health-products-in]

Glucofreeze Supplements

Taking Control of My Blood Sugar with Glucofreeze Supplements

For years, I'd been struggling with maintaining healthy blood sugar levels. It felt like a constant battle, and despite dietary changes, exercise, and even some medication, I wasn't seeing the results I craved. That's when I decided to try Glucofreeze Supplements.

A Natural Approach to Blood Sugar Support

Glucofreeze appealed to me because it's a natural supplement. The formula contains ingredients like cinnamon, turmeric, and berberine, all of which have been shown to support healthy blood sugar metabolism. I was also impressed that it's manufactured in the USA and adheres to strict quality control standards.

Feeling the Positive Effects

Since incorporating Glucofreeze into my daily routine, I've noticed a positive difference. My blood sugar readings have become more stable, and I feel a renewed sense of energy throughout the day. I no longer experience those afternoon slumps that used to plague me. Plus, I sleep much better at night, which I'm sure contributes to my overall well-being.

A Valuable Addition to My Health Regimen

Glucofreeze hasn't been a miracle cure, but it's definitely become a valuable addition to my health regimen. It's helped me manage my blood sugar levels more effectively, and I feel fantastic for it. If you're looking for a natural way to support your blood sugar health, I highly recommend giving Glucofreeze a try.

Disclaimer:It's important to note that I'm not a medical professional, and these are just my personal experiences. It's always best to consult with your doctor before starting any new supplements, especially if you have any underlying health conditions.

[sysig]

Alright, speed drawing time

[good-night-space-kid]

I’ve been making cucumber salad 1-3 times a week and I am thriving but also absolutely burning through my rice vinegar lmao

[princessbellecerise]

Sweet Like Sugar

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | In which you’re Coryo’s sugar baby

warnings | smut, sugar daddy!coryo, slight public sex

this is an eighteen plus fic. minors do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

You’re not sure what to say at first when Coryo proposes this idea to you, but you have to say that you’re shocked

You’re nothing more than a district girl, having been raised in not quite poverty but not abundance either

You’ve never had anything other than the bare minimum, so when Snow offers to give you the world and to take care of your family as well?

Well, it’s obvious what you choose

Quickly, you end up being transported from your district to the Capitol in no time. While your family is given a high rise apartment and grocery deliveries every month, you’re given your own space; a house not too far from his own mansion

Snow likes to keep you close, as he does with all of his prized possessions

And first things first, you’re spoiled

There’s no one in Panem that has more than you, no one that has more jewels, clothes, makeup, etc. Not even Coriolanus himself

He takes such good care of you, making sure that you want for nothing and that you have everything you need

He’s surprisingly generous; but you both know that it doesn’t come without a cost

The world outside of the capitol is a harsh one; one that you desperately don’t want to experience again. You’ve seen people starving to death or being maimed by wild animals in your district and you do not wish to live that kind of life. You’re content, comfortable with how you live so any price he states, you pay

Usually it comes in the form of Coryo being on top of you, a hand around your pretty little neck while he fucks you on his desk

Or, sometimes it’s in his room, with your face stuffed into his luxurious pillows as he fucks you from behind

One way or another, he uses you like you use him. Whenever and however he pleases

You don’t mind of course, loving the way you’re bouncing on his cock one minute and then the next he’s buying you a diamond necklace

He likes for you to get dolled up for him, so he can show you off and make everyone around him jealous

He sees the way they look at you, and the way other men and even women envy him. He knows that they’d give to have you but they can’t. They can’t afford you

Sugar daddy!Coryo that always makes you call him ‘sir.’ He tell you that it’s the proper way to address him as he is the president, but really he just likes the way it sounds coming from your pretty little lips

Often times, he’ll call you nicknames such as ‘Doll,’ or ‘Pretty Girl’

They’re fitting seeing as you’re always dressed up, whether that be in fancy dresses or silk night gowns that he’s specifically picked out for you to wear

Sugar daddy!Coryo that takes you out for fancy dinners, only to end up fucking you in the bathroom like he’s a commoner. He always hates when he looses his self control like that but fuck—sometimes you just look so good that he can’t help but to stoop to that level

Sugar daddy!Coryo that kisses you desperately in some random bathroom stall, that has you pressed up against him and can’t stop rambling about how hard he is

Coryo that has you stepping out of that expensive dress in no time, even tearing it a little so he can reveal your pretty cunt

You’re always wet for him, always so eager and that’s what Coryo loves

He loves the feeling of you wrapped around him, moaning his name and begging him to let you cum

Of course, before it even reaches that point, he also has you on your knees, sucking him off to try and relive some of his desperation

Even after everything, Coryo likes to think that he’s a gentleman, so of course he lays his jacket on the floor so your knees won’t be hurting

It’s the least he can do because fuck—you always have him cumming in no time, and again once he’s fucking into your tight cunt

He never cums inside of you, always on your tits or in your mouth

He just loves the way that you look up at him, pretty face coated with his seed. He always take a few seconds to admire you before cleaning you up, making sure you’re presentable once again before finally settling down at your table, thirty minutes later

And of course, before he takes you home for the night, he also makes sure to fuck you one last time in his fancy limousine, windows fogging up and all of Panem having no clue what’s happening behind those tinted windows

[pin-k-ink]

saccharine // kozume kenma

tw ⇢ friends to lovers, making out, so much spit, hair pulling, food kink(?), hands free orgasm, just pure filth

wc ⇢ 3.4k

Kenma was utterly immersed in the virtual world displayed across his gaming monitor, fingers flying in dexterous motions as he maneuvered through each intense level. The vibrant colors and frenetic action held his focus in an unwavering trance, shutting out all external stimuli and distraction with ease. He was in his own insular bubble, mind narrowed to the singular objective unfolding pixel-by-pixel before him.

So thoroughly zoned in was Kenma that the faint creak of his bedroom door swinging open on its hinges barely even registered through his fixated haze at first. It wasn't until the soft thud of footsteps sounded, infiltrating the periphery of his gaming cocoon, that his brow furrowed ever so slightly in a subtle break of concentration.

Kenma felt his shoulders tighten a fraction as the additional presence within his space slowly penetrated through to his consciousness. With obvious reluctance, he tore his keen gaze away from the rapidly flickering screen to locate the source of this intrusion into his hard-won solitude.

Standing just inside the doorway was none other than you - looking perfectly at home despite having let yourself into his private sanctuary so casually. There was already a lazy, contented smile curling the corners of your mouth upwards as you regarded Kenma with that soft, unassuming warmth he secretly found so disarming. You looked slightly rumpled, as if you'd just arrived back from a long day out, but your entire energy exuded the kind of earthy comfort that always seemed to counterbalance Kenma's own more aloof aura so well.

As his slowly refocusing eyes drifted down, Kenma couldn't help but zero in on the crinkled plastic convenience store bag gripped loosely in one of your hands. He felt his lips pursing in a subtle moue, knowing without needing to ask that the mysterious parcel was no doubt stuffed full of all manner of highly processed, tooth-achingly sweet snacks and candies - the kind designed to incite nostalgic cravings in anyone who'd ever grown up as a sugar-fueled ball of youthful energy.

"Hey," you called out, voice light and laced with that melodic lilt of amusement that Kenma secretly catalogued as one of his favorite inflections from you. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything too intense over here."

As if in direct answer to your playful query, the muted barrage of synthesized explosions and combat effects issued forth from Kenma's computer speakers - temporarily overridden in volume by your arrival. Kenma felt one eyebrow quirking upwards as you simply laughed, completely unoffended as you strode further into his room with all the casual confidence of someone fully assured in their welcome.

Which, to be fair, you always had been. Even when Kenma was at his most brooding or socially awkward, you'd never seemed fazed by his prickly exterior. Your relationship was quite simply one of easy equanimity, a perfectly counterbalanced orbit of push and pull that you both navigated through unconscious instinct at this point. No pretense or strain ever overcomplicated the simple fact that you both enjoyed inhabiting the quiet spaces of each other's lives, no matter how dissimilar your individual idiosyncrasies might appear to outside perspectives.

"Not really," Kenma replied after a protracted beat, finally deigning to bless you with a response as you unceremoniously flopped down on the end of his bed with a playful bounce. He tried to feign nonchalance, to not allow the subtle crinkling of bedsprings and sheets rustling beneath your added weight to lodge itself under his skin quite so insistently. But he could admit to himself, if to no one else, that you inhabiting his personal domain so casually would always elicit a visceral flare of...awareness from his carefully cultivated aloofness.

He hoped the small, inscrutable furrow of his brow was enough to silently convey the token protest his persona demanded - the subtle you're-invading-my-territory bristle that most people wisely heeded when dealing with Kozume Kenma's highly attuned sense of solitary sovereignty. Not you though. Even after the numerous years of rad-proximity cohabitation that began between you two, you still seemed to gleefully take measured delight in cheerfully ignoring every last one of his prickly deterrent mechanisms.

Rather than take umbrage at his mild look of affront, you simply beamed and began rummaging around inside the plastic sack with greatly exaggerated gusto - no doubt for your own private amusement at tweaking Kenma's carefully maintained airs once again. The crunch and rustle of packaging being rifled through filled the small bedroom as you built up an aggravatingly teasing sense of dramatic flair, finally extracting your prize from the bottom of the bag with a wee little noise of triumph.

"Cherry?" You announced, brandishing the large spherical lollipop like a trophy freshly liberated from its crinkly plastic tomb. That impish glint danced through your gaze as you rolled the candy enticingly between your fingertips with a sly smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "I got a whole fresh bag full of those novelty flavors you used to go crazy for back in elementary school."

Kenma felt his brows twitching slightly as he absorbed the sight of the garishly dyed confection being spun and twirled in a saucy little display of enticement clearly meant solely for his benefit. The bright crimson whorls decorating the bulbous sugar orb put his mind immediately in the nostalgic mindset you'd explicitly stated - dragging forth powerful sensory memories of sticky fingers and tongues frantically chasing fleeting sugar highs around the smallest provocations.

"I remember how much you used to get a real kick out of novelty flavors like these after especially Kuroo dragged you out to play," you carried on in a lower, more conspiratorial tone as Kenma found his gaze firmly arrested by your mouth. You'd already begun dragging the pointed tip of the lollipop between your parted lips with tantalizing leisure, punctuating the suggestive motion with a slow wink. "Always the tasty little reward to help recharge those spent batteries, wasn't it?"

Before Kenma could formulate any semblance of a verbal response, you had already sealed your lips around the bulbous candy with a contented hum. His eyes went wide, transfixed, as he watched your cheeks hollow on the first experimental suckle.

There was something about the way your lips moulded so perfectly around the firm, protruding shape - the soft sounds of suction and the glimpses of your pink tongue slowly swirling to chase the initial burst of sticky sweetness. It was such a small, innocuous action, and yet Kenma found himself utterly entranced against his will.

You seemed blissfully unaware of the effect you were having, far too caught up in your own nostalgic indulgence. Your eyes had drifted shut in apparent bliss as you allowed the full-bodied flavor to roll across your palate with a pleased rumble. Kenma swallowed hard, feeling the heated prickle of a flush threatening to crawl up the back of his neck as you hummed out another long exhale of unabashed enjoyment.

The synthetic cherry scent suddenly seemed amplified ten-fold, heavy and cloying in a way that had Kenma's senses surging into hyperawareness of your every breath, subtle shift, and indulgent kitten lick. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the slow-motion mesmerism of watching that plump lower lip drag free from the candy's glistening surface with excruciating leisure.

A bead of melted syrup immediately welled up in the wake of your mouth's retreat, hanging heavy and taunting for the barest beat before gravity fully exerted its pull. Kenma's throat clicked on a strangled inhale as the ruby-red droplet began tracing a sticky path down the very center of your chin with tantalizing languidness. He could all but taste the cloying sugar exploding across his senses as the errant rivulet continued its maddening descent...only to finally shudder to a halt mere centimeters from the hollow of your throat.

You didn't seem to notice the escaped treat's sluggish journey, far too wrapped up in dragging the rapidly diminishing lollipop free to lave a series of thorough, indulgent kitten licks along the fresh sugar-trail your previous enthusiasm had laid across your very lips. Kenma felt his fingers flexing against the game controller, nails digging into the worn rubber in a white-knuckle grip as he was utterly transfixed.

The thick, humid weight of unspoken tension was mounting by the second, made heavier with every demonstrative sweep of your tongue and quiet simper of gratification that vibrated through the hushed bedroom. Just as Kenma was certain his restraint was about to fray completely, shattering into tinder to be consumed by this blazing conflagration of suggestive temptation, your eyes fluttered back into focus.

Your gazes instantly locked together with the electric shunt of a livewire arc-ing closed circuit. For an interminable breath, you both remained suspended in that heated stare - the only sound Kenma's own rapidly pounding heart hammering against his ribs with deafening intensity. Then, with obvious relish, your tongue swept out to lap up the errant trail of cherry syrup that had very nearly defied gravity's hold entirely before retreating.

Kenma's stomach muscles clenched as if taking a physical blow, his throat clicking on another difficult swallow against the sudden, harrowing jolt of explosive arousal that shocked through his system at the razor's edge of suggestiveness you had just displayed. You didn't show even the barest hint of hesitation or embarrassment, however, simply allowing your lips to curve upwards in an insolent smirk as you beheld the thunderstruck look on Kenma's face.

"Want a taste?" The words were innocuous enough, if perhaps delivered a shade too heavy with bedroom timbre and subtext. But the accompanying gesture of holding the thoroughly debauched candy out towards Kenma in clear offering? That was borderline obscene.

Unable to summon the power of speech for several suspended heartbeats, Kenma could only stare at the lurid streaks of color and glistening artificial sheen adorning the thoroughly savaged lollipop like neon warpaint. The sticky shine of sugar and saliva combined into an almost pornographic glaze that his overheated subconscious immediately supplied a barrage of wildly inappropriate mental images to contextualize.

It felt like a cosmic paradigm shift had occurred with shocking abruptness, as if someone had reached out and simply altered the gravity governing your established dynamic without advance notice or permission. What should have been a harmless instance of sugary indulgence between casual friends had taken on an electrifyingly charged tenor rife with fraught implications Kenma's fevered lizard brain was straining to process without imploding.

You seemed to notice the glazed look overtaking his features because you shifted forward on the mattress with what could only be described as a lazy roll of your hips. Your gaze briefly flicked down, confirming you had indeed provoked the expected bodily response in Kenma to match his overheated look. When you glanced back up through your lashes, pupils already dilated to liquid rings of pure invitation, a full-body shudder rocked through Kenma so violently it momentarily shorted his lungs of air.

There was no going back from this moment poised on the precipice of your established equilibrium. The gauntlet had been thrown in a bold, unambiguous challenge...and Kenma realized with a sort of stunned exhilaration that his subconscious had already accepted without input from his higher reasoning.

"Last chance," you purred out, deliberately dragging the candy's slick, hardened curve between your lips in an achingly sensuous tease.

Kenma didn't hesitate any longer.

With a low, guttural growl that sounded foreign even to his own ears, he surged forward until only a mere hairsbreadth separated your flushed frames. You sucked in a sharp inhale at his sudden approach, eyes blown wide in a heady mixture of surprise and approval, but didn't retreat.

If anything, you unconsciously leaned in further - near desperately offering up the ravaged lollipop like a silent supplication that Kenma was all too eager to receive. Without preamble, he sealed his lips around the exposed portion of sticky sugar...

You both seemed to hold your breath as Kenma's lips closed around the lollipop, savoring the tangy-sweet burst of artificial flavors coating his tongue. But there was an underlying muskiness as well - the undeniable taste of your own saliva mingling with the sugary treat in an intoxicating way that deepened the moment's intimacy.

Kenma's eyes slipped shut as he slowly drew the candy deeper into his mouth with a low rumble of appreciation. He could feel the heavy weight of your gaze scorching across his face as he indulged in long, leisurely pulls and sweeps of his tongue. The air between you had grown thick and charged, practically crackling with unspoken tension.

When he finally allowed the thoroughly worshipped lollipop to slip free with a damp pop, Kenma's eyes fluttered open to find you watching him with rapt fascination. Your chests were rising and falling in tandem, breaths falling into sync as that taut line of heated awareness stretched between you, thrumming like a tightly coiled wire.

"Your turn," Kenma rasped out, voice pitched and gravelly as he held the glistening treat out in mute offering. He could see your throat working on a convulsive swallow before you slowly, almost mesmerized, leaned forward to accept it between your newly reddened lips.

The sweet indulgence continued to pass between you in a steadily escalating cycle of wordless exchange - growing more fervent and molten with each intimate iteration. By the time the lollipop had fully dissolved into a rapidly melting stub, your joined breathing had grown harsh and punched-out against the heavy quiet surrounding you.

You held the lingering candy husk out towards Kenma with a look that could only be described as smoldering want. He found himself already leaning in, chasing those reddened, swollen lips until they crashed together in a heated collision of sugared, seeking mouths.

The lollipop was quickly forgotten, allowed to roll away into discarded oblivion as you both surrendered to the long-simmering hunger abruptly allowed to boil over into frantic need. There was nothing gentle or tentative in your joined onslaught - merely a wild, unbridled devouring as you clung to each other with something akin to desperation.

Kenma felt like he was short-circuiting from a constant barrage of new stimuli assailing his senses all at once. The velvet glide of your tongues tangling in an increasingly sloppy duel, the bittersweet tang of melted sugar commingled with the addictive essence of your unique tastes and scents, the featherlight caress of your fingertips branding tingling trails everywhere they exploratively roamed. It was quickly overwhelming his carefully cultivated restraint in tidal waves of new sensation.

Just when Kenma thought his tenuous grasp on control might disintegrate entirely, he vaguely registered the crinkle of plastic as you scrabbled blindly for something else. Your joined momentum barely faltered, mouths still hungrily devouring one another, as you managed to produce another candy - this time one of the gummy ring varieties.

You didn't hesitate before pressing the sticky, yielding treat against Kenma's lips in blatant invitation. His eyes slipped open in a momentary daze, but you simply held his heated stare as you slowly pushed the sugary disk deeper, deeper, until finally he was forced to open up and accept it fully inside.

A tremor rocked through Kenma as his tongue was instantly overwhelmed by the intense burst of sour green apple flavor. But the cloying artificial tang swiftly melted into something headier - the lingering taste of your saliva providing an irresistible musky counterpoint. He found his suckles growing more insistent, cheeks hollowing with each powerful pull as you watched him rapturously.

You seemed spurred on by his display, hands tangling almost painfully in his hair to sharply angle his head as you sealed your mouth over his in another bruising kiss. Climbing into his lap, you pressed even closer as the half-dissolved gummy quickly became the star attraction in a molten tug-of-war, messily traded back and forth as you strained to chase every melted smear and lingering taste from the other's questing tongue.

The wet, obscenely suckling sounds soon being disgorged into the dense air around you were utterly depraved...and yet neither of you could seemingly get enough. You rolled and writhed together with mounting desperation, limbs entangling as your bodies gyrated with a lustful, reckless abandon..

You hummed approvingly as you produced another treat from the bag - a plump gummy worm in a shockingly vibrant shade of lime green. Without preamble, you traced the squishy confection along the swollen seam of Kenma's lips, leaving a glistening trail of sugary syrup in its wake.

He immediately opened for you, taking the candy into the velvet heat of his mouth with a low rumble of pleasure. You watched, entranced, as his cheeks hollowed on the first experimental suck, feeling your belly clench at the obscene sound.

"Let me taste..." you rasped out, not waiting for permission before surging forward to lick away the sticky smears his thorough sampling was already leaving at the corners of his lips.

Kenma groaned at the hot glide of your tongue, catching it briefly to suckle hard - drawing you into a messy open-mouthed clash. The gummy candy quickly became the molten centerpiece of a heated tug-of-war, passed between your questing mouths in a filthy exhibition of slurping and swapping spit-slicked remnants.

By the time the neon treat had fully dissolved into so much sugary wreckage, your chins were streaked in lurid green and crimson from the excessive mess. You barely skipped a beat before grabbing another - this time one of the fruit-flavored taffies.

Kenma watched with heavy-lidded intensity as you slowly enveloped the tan-colored chew between your lips, torturously working the sticky mass along the insides of your cheeks before offering it to him with a muffled moan of wanton bliss. He immediately accepted the proffered treat, tongues dueling and tangling as you traded the rapidly dissolving candy back and forth in lascivious exchanges that had you both panting harshly through your noses.

Another candy soon joined the melting fray after the taffy had been comprehensively obliterated - a molten disk of pale yellow butterscotch this time. You took the initiative to cradle the liquidized confection against the swell of Kenma's lower lip, smearing the cloyingly sweet syrup across the reddened plump flesh. He instinctively gave a broad sweep of his tongue to chase the sugary trail, moaning brokenly at the artificial richness coating his palate.

This only seemed to spur you on further, and you were soon leaning in to lick and suckle away every last melting butterscotch droplet painting Kenma's swollen mouth. The sounds of your vigorous sampling and soft whimpers of delight were utterly shameless as you wallowed together in the sticky, heated devastation of so many defiled treats.

More gummies were soon added to the rapidly disintegrating pile - their colors blending into a garish kaleidoscope of streaked saliva and disgorged groans across your flushed bodies. You traded each dissolving confection back and forth in messy bursts of bruising suction that left your mouths swollen and tingling from the stimulation.

At some point, you tipped the bag entirely over the bedsheets, allowing the remaining sugar-dusted debris to spill out in a vibrant trail that seemed to beckon like an insistent siren. Neither of you hesitated before your joined frames collapsed squarely into the sticky devastation, utterly heedless of any shreds of restraint still tenuously remaining.

Candy dust and gobbed spittle were soon finding their way into every available crevice and exposed patch of slick, overheated skin as you thrashed together in delirious rapture. The thick, cloying sweetness and musk of arousal hung in the air like an intoxicating fog as you both surrendered to this singular, obsessive need to consume each sugary morsel from the other's plush mouths...among other intimate sampling still to come.

By the time the decimated bag had been exhausted of all its confectionary contents, you were both utterly spent - collapsed in a sweaty, debauched heap of limbs amidst the sticky devastation you'd so comprehensively wallowed within. Lurid warpaint streaked your flushed frames from the thorough coating of candy carnage, but matching dopey grins still curved your thoroughly ravaged mouths in unison.

Unbeknownst to you, the front of Kenma’s pants were soaked with more than just saliva and sugar, but the evidence would remain hidden until he got the chance to change his clothes.

"Guess we got a little carried away there, huh?" You teased, prodding Kenma in the side with an idle fingertip as he let out a grunt of agreement.

"We could always take a shower," he suggested after a beat, voice roughened with the kind of gravel that made your lower belly clench.

"And then what?" You prompted, rolling over so you could rest your chin atop Kenma's chest and peer up at him through your lashes.

He didn't even pause to consider, just gave a small shrug before responding in an even tone: "Then we could grab a whole bag of candies from the store and start all over again."

[kairoot]

confessions with ateez ˚⋆ ✦

⟢ pairing : ateez x reader ➖ genre : fluff, friends to lovers ➖ requested : no ➖ warnings : intimacy, kissing, reader is drunk for mingi’s hc

ss: confessing to ateez; telling them that you like them

🌿 — hongjoong.

is surprised

LIKE WHY ARE YOU SURPRISED YOURE LITERALLY THE KIM HONGJOONG OFC I WOULD LIKE YOU

attempts at suppressing his smile and giggles

fails

is definitely super shy afterwards (no nwjns 🗣️)

joong’s head was laid on your chest as you played with his disheveled brown strands. his arm was wrapped tightly around your waist, eyes low but not completely shut.

anyone who walked in would’ve thought the two of you were dating but the sad part was; you weren’t.

hongjoong normally came over and crashed at your place when he felt overworked or was super tired after schedules. you’d always invite him over so he wouldn’t have to stay in the studio while being tired but eventually he learned that overworking himself was never good.

you knew whenever he was drained. the way his eyes would droop or he’d just come in and flop onto your bed. it’s also why you began to make dinner for him so whenever he came over, he’d have something in his belly because, who knew when he was actually gonna go home?

others knew about the way you took care of hongjoong but never understood why you two haven’t dated.

and that was your biggest mistake because you liked hongjoong. perhaps even loved him. but you didn’t want him to know that. not until now, at least.

seeing him nearly every day and laughing with him or going on trips with him always made you happy. seeing him smile made your heart dance in your chest. you cared deeply about hongjoong on another level. but you never really told him because of how close you two have always been over the years. what if you ruined a good friendship?

but today was the day that you stopped worrying about that. hongjoong is an understanding person so what’s the worst that could happen other than him letting you down slowly? it’s become insufferable for you to keep in so much, so now is when you let loose.

taking in a breath, you softly call hongjoong’s name.

“joong?”

“hm?” his eyebrows raised slightly, eyes now closed but he was awake.

“can i.. can i tell you something?” you asked, softly placing your chin on his head. his arm shifted, pulling you closer and hugging you tighter.

“mhm, i’m listening, bub.” he responded quietly. your heart fluttered at the nickname, a small smile now growing on your face.

“okay, but promise you won’t get upset with me or something? or things won’t be awkward? and-“

he squeezed your hip, chuckling a bit, “spit it out, y/n.”

you took a moment to do so, taking in a few deep breaths.

“joong i.. like you. i have for a long time,” you began, a slight weight lifting off of your shoulders. the room was a bit silent before you continued.

“and i don’t know if you feel the same but i care about you. not just in a best friend way. it sounds cheesy but.. everything you do makes me smile. it makes me feel all fuzzy inside and i’m like, ‘wth is going on?’ but it’s because of you, joong.”

you swallowed hard, waiting for his response. it was silent moments before you heard a small giggle which confused you a bit.

“really? you like like me?” he asked, a big smile plastered on his face.

“i like like you.”

he finally looked up at you, eyes still low but he seemed to be more awake now. he blinked slowly, his eyes now staring into yours.

“i’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

🌿 — seonghwa.

is taken back

LIKE EXCUSE ME 😟

hand over his heart type of stunned

of course he likes you tew pookie 😜😘

he’s just like wait a minute this hottie likes me?? 🤔

you stood in the kitchen next to seonghwa, both of you laughing at each other.

“it’s not sweet enough, hwa!” you giggled, quickly stirring your cupcake batter. he laughed at the mess you made, sugar scattered on the dark countertop.

“i told you to add more sugar, you just don’t listen to me.” his laughter died down a bit.

the whole kitchen was a mess. each of you baked your own batch of cupcakes and obviously your batch wasn’t doing so well.

you both wore dark blue aprons, a small logo stitched on the right side.

seonghwa had bought the aprons for you both the week before, knowing that you’d probably have more days like this.

the two of you had flour and sugar covering your aprons and icing on your face. your side was a bit more messy but seonghwa thought it was cute.

everything you did was cute to him. the way you smiled or the way you got excited about certain things. you were just adorable.

he watched you from his side, not even realizing that he was almost in a trance. he smiled slightly at the way you hurriedly moved around the kitchen.

“can i try one of yours at least?” you turned to him, a pout on your face while your batter was pushed to the side.

hwa smiled once again, long strands moving as he nodded his head.

he grabbed one from the pan, handing it to you. you took a small bite, though some icing had still managed to mark your lip.

he noticed before you felt it, his finger coming to wipe it off. hwa didn’t even realize how close he was until he saw you looking up at him, frozen in place.

his face was a few inches away from yours, the only sound being breathing.

it was only moments before his plump lips were on yours, tasting the sweetness from the icing. the cupcake had been long forgotten, dropped on the floor somewhere as your arms came to wrap around his neck.

the bing crosby christmas album playing from the living room seemed to be slowed down as the two of you were in your own world, lost in each other’s grasp.

after what felt like forever, he pulled away out of breath. his eyes opening to look down at you again, blinking slowly.

“i’m assuming that kiss meant something to you?” you breathed out, playing with the strands that cascaded down to his neck.

he nodded, feeling a tad bit embarrassed from his sudden attack on your lips.

“i love you,” you confessed, finally letting the cat out of the box. “so much.”

“y-you love me? are you sure? i-“

to answer his questions and rambles, you pressed your lips on to his once again, making him melt in the kiss and giving him any other reassurance that he needed.

🌿 — yunho.

LITERALLY IS SO GIDDY

LIKE KICKINF HIS FEET AND GIGGLING TYPE OF GIDDY (on the inside of course)

but he wants to take things slow

he’s in no rush

you and yunho sat in the your room, studying together. papers were scattered across the bed as you both helped each other for your upcoming exam.

“but i think.. mr. kim isn’t really worried about how we got the answer. just if we know the correct one or not.” yunho said, skimming through his papers.

“no? of course he would care, why wouldn’t he?”

“cause the exam is multiple choice.” he snorted.

“i’m still showing my work.” you shrugged, going back to jotting down notes in your journal.

for a while, it was quiet until your mind began to wander. you looked over at yunho, seeing his brows furrowed a bit as he was focused on his writing. his lips parted slightly, mumbling things that would help him remember for the big test.

your gaze remained focused on him, studying his features. you knew it was frowned upon, but you did find your best friend attractive. not just his looks but his personality.

yunho was always nice to everyone he was around. even taking care of them in some type of way.

your crush on him had lasted longer than you could remember. but you confessing to him now seemed like a horrid idea seeing as he just ended a relationship a little more than 2 weeks ago.

ruining your friendship with him was not really something you had in mind but you wanted him to know how you felt even if it did mess up everything. there was just no way you could go the rest of your life without telling him.

“yunho?”

he looked up, humming in response.

“um, i don’t know how you’ll feel after i say this but,” you began to speak, clearing your throat. yunho had put his things down, his full attention on you.

“i.. i like you.” you said quietly, looking down.

“well, i like you too.” he smiled slightly, his hand coming to lightly brush against your cheek.

“no, yun. i like like you.” you sent him a sad smile, expecting him to walk right out on you. but he didn’t. he remained seated on the bed, his smile growing.

“i know. and i like like you too,” he giggled a bit. “we don’t have to rush into anything, though.”

“i don’t want you to rush anyway. you just left a relationship.” you tapped his arm playfully, the both of you now giggling.

🌿 — yeosang.

super shy pt2

does that :> smile

today, you decided to train with yeosang. seeing as though you had nothing better to do, you joined him at the gym.

you whistled jokingly as yeosang dropped the dumbbell he had in his hand, sweat drenching his face and arms.

he noticed the way you’d looked at him, a smug smile on your face.

“are you trying to flirt with me?” he tilted his head, laughing a bit.

“yes, is it working?”

he laughed again, shaking his head at you. he noticed that you’d been flirting with him all day, which wasn’t really like you but he didn’t think much about it.

but what he didn’t know or notice was that you were doing it on purpose. some of the flirting was jokes of course but some of it wasn’t. like when you asked if you could cook dinner for the two of you.

“y/n, you don’t even cook..” he grabbed a towel from his back, patting his neck. you sat next to him on the bench, scoffing.

“can i at least try for the man i love?” you mumbled, looking elsewhere.

yeosang did a double take, confused on whether he heard you right.

“what?” he turned back towards you, a puzzled expression on his face.

you shook your head, starting to get up and brush off the conversation.

he took hold of your wrist, pulling you back gently, “you love me?”

you mumbled a ‘maybe’, still avoiding his gaze. you honestly thought he would’ve been a bit weirded out but instead he laughed.

you looked up to see a pink tint covering his cheeks but not just from working out.

“i, uh, i do too. i love you too, i mean.” he wanted to give you more of a proper response so he gave you a peck on your cheek, feeling too flustered to kiss your lips.

🌿 — san.

 you have no idea how relieved this man is

probably sighs out loud

another giggly/smiley one

chatting with san in the small cafe, you both shared smiles and memories in between your coffees.

san was telling a story from when you both met but you just couldn’t focus on what he was saying. you were way too distracted by his beauty to comprehend the words leaving his lips.

you loved everything about san. especially when he was passionate about something like the story he was telling. how he got so into it or how he smiled at the memories you made together.

“y/n?” his voice pulled you out of your trance, causing you to blink for the first time in 5 minutes.

“you okay, bubba?” he laughed a bit.

you nodded your head, your gaze anywhere but him now. the nickname he’d always called you, now gave you butterflies.

his brows furrowed in confusion as his finger came to move your chin so you were looking at him again. he gave you a questionable look, a look of concern washing over his face.

“y/n?”

“san, i like you.” you blurted out, hand coming up to cover your mouth as you seemed to surprise yourself. san’s eyes widened in surprise as well, a soft chuckle escaping him.

his smile was even wider as he let out a relieved sigh. he took both of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles.

“do you know how long i’ve waited to hear that?”

“how long?” you tilted your head slightly, sending him a small smile.

“way too long, sweetheart. way too long.”

🌿 — mingi.

he’s flustered 100%

probably doesn’t know what to say

you groaned as you stumbled into your apartment with mingi holding you up by the waist.

you flopped onto the couch, an arm outstretched towards him.

“i told you not to drink too much.” he giggled, coming to sit next to you.

you whined in protest, sitting up to prop yourself next to him.

“mingi, i love you,” you poked his cheek. “so much. i love you so much.”

he chuckled, moving your hand to your lap.

“i love you too.”

“no,” you draped your arms over his shoulders, your eyes halfway open. “i looove you.”

you placed two wet kisses to his cheek before he stopped you. his eyes were wide in surprise while his cheeks were painted with pink.

“y/n, stop.” he smiled a bit, moving away from you.

“why?” you whined, flopping yourself into his lap. “you don’t love me..”

“no, i do, princess. believe me, i do,” he shook his head, patting your leg as you were already headed to sleep. “you just won’t remember that in the morning.”

he placed a kiss on your forehead, picking you up to head upstairs. what he didn’t know was that you most definitely would remember that the next day.

🌿 — wooyoung.

very smug

but is lowkey like ‘🤭🤭’

even as your friend, wooyoung is very touchy. you’re both always cuddling or his hand is always placed on your waist, someway somehow.

so when he sees that you’re avoiding these things, like hugging him, he finds it a little weird.

“boo bear!” he flopped onto your couch, using one of the stupid nicknames that got you to laugh when you were mad at him. “whatcha doin’ ?”

you motioned toward the tv, flipping through different movies.

he looked at you for a moment, sighing in annoyance, “alright, seriously, what’s wrong?”

you didn’t respond at first, causing him to take the remote away from you.

“wooyoung!” you groan, reaching for the device that was hidden behind his back.

“what’s wrong?” he shifted his arm away from your grasp, ignoring your protests.

you sighed, sitting back in your seat. he waited for you to respond, the remote remaining behind his back until you did.

“i don’t think we should be friends anymore, woo.”

his heart sank at your words. where was this coming from? what did he do to make you feel that way?

but the truth is, it was you not him. over the time of you and woo’s friendship, you recently began to develop feelings for him. with everything he said and did, you found him attractive. you felt your feelings grow stronger everyday, but it eventually became unbearable.

“did i do something?” his brows now furrowed in concern. he turned toward you, grabbing one of your hands to hold on his.

“tell me, y/n and we can work it out together.”

you held your breath, looking down. wooyoung may be silly but he’s very understanding. so why were you so nervous?

“woo, i like you. but maybe we shouldn’t remain as friends because what happens if my feelings ruin what we have? what happens when you don’t like me back and everything is awkward?”

his eyebrows raised slightly as he smiled, “oh, honey. you don’t have to worry about me not having feelings for you.”

it took a few moments for you to realize what he said. before you could look up at him all the way, his lips were on yours.

🌿 — jongho.

keeps his cool

but is actually so relieved on the inside

like this man has loved you for SO LONG!!!??

the two of you laughed as you strolled through a near by park. your arm was linked with jongho’s, your excuse was because it was so cold.

you both conversed about different things or even walking in a comfortable silence at times.

eventually, you both came by a steep hill where the sun was setting. jongho set down a blanket he had brought along, patting it flat against the grass.

you both sat down next to each other, his arm coming to wrap around you. you looked out at the sunset, a soft small resting on your face.

“why’re you smiling so much?” jongho asked, chuckling softly. his hand stroking your arm.

“cause i get to see this with you.” you look up at him, indicating the pretty orange and pink splashes on the sky.

he looked into your eyes for a bit, taking in everything you said and did.

“i wouldn’t wanna see it with anyone else, jong,” you looked at him for a moment before leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. he breathed out as if he’d been holding his breath and waiting for you to say that.

“i love you.” you smiled. his other hand came to rest on your cheek as he pulled you in for a real kiss.

“not more than i love you.”

⟢ milan’s note: this kinda sucks booty cause i got sleepy while writing it but im writing for my pookies again !! <33

taglist: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @m1ko-xu

[funficwriter]

Fontaine Characters with Violinist Reader!

A/N: This disappearing thing of mine is annoying, I'm trying to stop it. However, I finally got a bit of spare time to play Genshin and I am so, so in love with Fontaine. I think it's gonna be a wonderful arc. I haven't felt this much jubilation since Liyue or Inazuma!

Warnings; None, really.

Lyney, Lynette, Neuvillette, Navia, Furina, Wriothesley (no particular order)

Lyney

First off, this boy is no stranger to performing, an activity he loves. Naturally, he's going to be most interested in fellow performers, including you!

If you're the type to get anxious before, or even during a performance, say goodbye to that with him. He'll guide you through plenty of destressing rituals to help you relax beforehand.

(This included, but wasn't limited to; Taking deep breaths, doing tongue twisters, asking you to play meme songs on your violin, or tickling your sides because 'laughing is a great way to be loose'.)

Even during, should you freeze up and he's in the audience, he'll do a quick but loud magic trick to get everyone's eyes off you. Even one that makes him look like a fool, so long as you have time to put yourself together.

He'd LOVE to have you on stage with him! He adores your music and would ask you to sync it up with dramatic moments in his magic.

If you compose you own stuff, he's pretty much your biggest fan. The guy who never misses a concert. The loudest clapper. The biggest braggart.

"That gorgeous, graceful violinist we had the pleasure of watching? What if I told you that they're coupled up with an equally electric performer? That is, me~."

Lynette

It's easy to think that her brother outdoes her in terms of being your fan, but quietness hides a lot. If you think she doesn't care as much, you're so, so wrong.

She learned several music skills just to be closer to you, including sight-reading. BTW, she's got a killer voice and loves to sing out your compositions. Sometimes it helps you come up with alternative movements within them.

She can also play piano, to a good level of accompaniment. With time, one would think she is also a music assistant; It's not uncommon for her to be on your stage.

Lynette is VERY attentive to your instrument. Does it need rosin? A new bow, perhaps a re-hair? You just say the word, and she'll happily take it to the repair workshop if you have no time.

"By the way, Y/N prefers real horse hair, the thinnest you have. Don't worry. They're talented enough to thrive on it.".

She makes it a point to let you know how much she loves what you do: "All other music in Fontaine pales in its beauty next to yours. Please, keep playing.".

Neuvillette

You play the violin? (he crosses his legs and assumes his royal position). So when are you going to get married? Will you be okay playing a few pieces, even while being the spouse? /Half-joking, tbh.

For him to say that he is the lover of a music pioneer as important as you... Will never not be a moment of joy for him.

First off, what a sugar daddy. I hope you made a list of the expensive violins you wanted but couldn't afford. Because now, it's yours, never mind the Mora. Your very case may as well be coated with gold.

He won't die on this hill, but he would love it if you could play a bit during the parties he hosts. He loves live music to begin with, but after hearing you, it feels like no other pro could hope to sound as good as you.

(And side note, he likes how mesmerized everyone is with you lol)

If you're the type to remember your patron's personal preferences, and compose/play in accordance to that, just for him? Put hearts in his eyes. He's no longer joking about the wedding thing.

While he loves showing you off, he'll never force you if you're shy/nervous. If anything, he would also feel very special if he got to heard songs not out yet, compositions just for him...

"Perhaps this is Lady Furina's way of rewarding me for my years of service. Bless our Archon for giving me such a talented, show and heart-stopping partner.".

Navia

She likes that the Spina del Rosula is represented by passionate, talented people!

If you like sweets, I say just join her team. It's guaranteed pastries after each request lol.

Her detective work is cool, but can get a bit drab after a while. She likes asking you to play some violin ambiance, partly because it makes her feel cool, and partly because your music changes the atmosphere for much better.

Navia is a woman of decorum, but she'll often have trouble staying still during your concerts. It doesn't matter if there are rules to how loud a woman can cheer, she's happy for you and will make sure you know that.

She becomes even more proactive than usual. If a concert of yours falls on the same time as her work, she'll scour the ends of Teyvat for its solution, so she can see you.

With time, she might request you to play pieces that her father loved. Once they're brought back to life, through your own strings, she can't help but be a little emotional. She must have done something wonderful to have you.

"How beautiful, how poignant as you, my dear Y/N! This calls for macaroons! Which flavor would you like today?".

Furina

"Yes, Neuvillette, I know they perform and all, but why can't I keep them to myself! They're so darn great, I want that everyday!"

Of course, she's not gonna stop you, but beware; I feel like Furina would almost turn you into her own personal violinist lol.

She'd keep requesting your presence over her other personal entertainment and somewhat bombard you with song requests. Buuut if you're looking for a varied repertoire, she's your gal!

One reason she requests so much is because she so impressed with how you not only fulfill them all, you do it so creatively and beautifully. You don't just follow the note as it is... Once you're acquainted with what she likes, you modify the tune a bit to be more her taste.

She's so cute when she claps; The way her hands go so fast and she's about to get up from the seat, the huge eye and smile... Why, you might start reconsidering her offer.

"Bravooooo, Y/N!! Bravo! That was everything, I can't go on without an encore!"

If the tune is more happy-go-lucky, she will get up and dance along. Will also do it in circles around you because she's your little orb :3

Wriothesley

"Forgive me for intruding... But I was overhearing, and your playing is terrific. Electrifying. Do you happen to perform on Saturday nights? That's when I can leave the Fortress for a bit.".

Of all your fans, Wrio is one of the quieter ones, but not so much that no one knows it. For one, he's a Duke, he's bound to enjoy good music. And heavens knows he needs some fun in his life.

Here's a fun thing (ngl this is what I was excited to write): At first, it doesn't sound like he can make it to your recital. You see him on his desk, surrounded by paper mountains that only ever seem to grow. He doesn't want to make you sad, but his remark lets you know that he's not coming: "Would it kill some of these people to tone it down for a bit so I can go see my partner perform?".

So imagine your shock when you step on stage, and see him on the first row, sitting tall and handsome, shit-eating grin on his face and waving. You really bought it for a moment.

"Hehe... Did you really think I can't even make a bit of time to see Fontaine's best violinist in action? You actually bought that?".

I HC that he has insomnia, and has tried any things to cure it, but to no avail. It's rumored in Fontaine that his is incurable, but little do they know about how he lays down next to your sitting form. Little do they know of the soft lullabies you composed just for him, or how peacefully he dreams afterwards 💜

[cookiescribble]

Getting The Hang Of This “Girlfriend” Thing (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: ahhh thank you guys so much for such nice feedback on my last fic! 🫶🏻🫶🏻 this is just a little blurb that’s a lot less heavy haha. I am working on another hurt/comfort fic though 👀

This was inspired by personal hormonal moodiness this month 😅

-Mod Angel

Summary: Spencer is in a new relationship and is learning that there’s more to it than just facts.

CW: discussion of menstruation, implied smut at the end

~~~

Spencer walked into the BAU, walking right to the kitchen to pour himself some coffee. Penelope, Emily, and JJ were standing around the kitchen and talking. 

They saw him pouring sugar in his coffee and laughed a bit. “What did you get up to last night?” 

He groaned a bit, taking a sip of his coffee. He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Can I… ask you guys a question? About… girls?”

They all looked at each other and raised their eyebrows. “Aww, do you need someone to give you ‘the talk?’” JJ asked teasingly.

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, not that. I’m doing just fine with that, thank you very much.” Everyone made various disgusted noises, which made him laugh. “No, it’s just… well, my girlfriend’s on her period, and she was basically doing nothing except snapping at me last night. Did I do something wrong?”

They all looked at each other again. Emily spoke first. “Ohh… yeah. You probably did something wrong.” She laughed and pointed to his sugar-filled coffee cup. “Did she make you sleep on the couch?”

He sighed and set his mug down. “No. I asked her if she wanted to be alone, but she said that would just make her more upset.” He picked up his mug and took another sip. “I know that women experience fluctuations in estrogen and progesterone levels during menstruation which can cause feelings of irritability and anger, but…”

“Hold on.” Penelope said. “Did you say that to her?”

“I… might have mentioned it.” He shrugged slightly. “I figured it would comfort her to know the science behind it. She usually loves it when I tell her facts like that.”

Everyone groaned. JJ patted him on the shoulder. “Spence. Did you really think that would comfort a hormonal woman?”

He looked a little confused. “Is there something I’m missing? I’ve never had to deal with a hormonal girlfriend until now.”

“Okay. Then let us tell you what you’re missing” she said. “No one wants to be told that they’re grumpy when they’re on their period. It doesn’t matter if it’s a fact, or if there’s science behind it. That’s like… poking a bear.”

He hesitated before speaking again. “… so, it was a bad idea to tell her that eating sugar would increase inflammation in the body that would cause fatigue and irritability?”

Everyone groaned. “Oh my god, you did not say that to her. Please tell me you didn’t say that to her?” Penelope pleaded. 

He shrugged. “I didn’t know that was wrong! Why is that wrong?”

“Look. All the facts in the world could not comfort a hormonal woman.” JJ started. “She doesn’t want to hear why she’s feeling grumpy. She wants you to comfort her. When your girlfriend is on her period, you say nothing about it. Consider this a lesson.”

He groaned and took another sip of coffee. “So, I messed up?”

“Yes.”

“Now what?” He sighed. 

Penelope looked at him very seriously. “You’re going to go home tonight, bring her flowers and chocolate, and apologize. And you’re going to say you learned your lesson.”

He thought for a second before nodding. “Okay. I’ll do that.” He looked at everyone and smiled. “Thank you… I’m still new to all this, so this has been very helpful.”

There was a chorus of “you’re welcome” and “good luck” before everyone went to start their work day. 

… 

When he got home, Spencer walked through the door of the apartment, the handle of a shopping bag hooked over his elbow. “I’m home!” He called out. 

His girlfriend walked into the room and smiled at him. She was wearing loose pajamas and her hair was tied up in a bun. “Welcome home… what’s in the bag?”

He set the bag down and took out a small bouquet of roses. “These are for you.”

She smiled and took the bouquet from him. “Aw, honey… they’re beautiful.” She breathed in the floral scent. 

He put up a finger to signal he wasn’t done yet. He pulled out a box of chocolates from the bag. “And… here. I got you your favorites.”

She smiled bigger and handed him the roses back so she could open the box of chocolates. “Oh, you’re a saint, babe. What’s all this for?”

     He set the roses down gently on the coffee table so he could hug her from behind, resting his head on top of hers. “A peace offering. I… I’m sorry I was so insensitive last night.”

     She turned around and gave him an apologetic look. “Oh, Spence… no, that was me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” He patted her on the shoulders. “I told the girls at work what happened and they gave me a stern lecture.” He laughed quietly. “I’ve just never had a girlfriend before, so I didn’t know the… etiquette I’m supposed to have during this time.”

She smiled and put the chocolates down so she could hug him. “I know. At least, logically I know that. Emotional brain takes over when I’m hormonal.” 

He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “And I know that now. It’s not something I could’ve learned from a book, so… it’s a learning curve, I guess.” He laughed again. “I know how to take care of you now.”

She smiled and reached up on her tiptoes so she could kiss him. “You know… there’s some more period facts I want to tell you.”

He made a face. “Please tell me it’s not that you’re mad at me again.”

She laughed. “No, it’s not that. I think you’ll like this one.” She moved a little closer and ran a finger gently down his arm, making him shiver a bit. “An increase in blood flow to the pelvic region makes… certain areas more sensitive, leading to an increased libido.” She smirked. “Wanna help me out with that?” 

He blushed and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I could do that.” He grinned and leaned down to kiss her. 

She smiled and dragged him to the bedroom, more than happy to teach him something he didn’t know before.

[pervertedreams]

with farleigh there’s always some sort of competition between the two of you, regardless if it’s subconscious or not. regardless if it’s childish and petty or not, and you always know around summer time when the two of you return to saltburn the games are on.

the fight to see who will break first and when is always thrilling to the both of you, restraining from each other sexually until the end of summer is usually the challenges goal. and you’ll do anything to make him crack, but he’s stubborn. usually he’s the first one to initiate, you can hear the soles of his bare feet slapping harshly against the buffed marbled floors. you’re slump on your bed nearly naked with just your bra and a loose pair of shorts. and you pray they cut the ac on eventually.

you stare at your open doorway, wait for farleigh to arrive in your line of vision. and when he does you nearly roll your eyes, he’s so obvious.

sporting a bare chest and a tight pair of swim trunks, when all this week his trunks have been noticeably loose. at least to you.

you can tell he’s been in the sun a while, complexion deeper than usual. there’s still water droplets running and curving down his chest and to his v-line. he watches your eyes follow it with a knowing smirk. “they aren’t turning on the conditioner.” his voice is flat, and you silently watch how his lips wrap around his cigarette. you scan his bare frame one more time, watching his chest rise and fall, and how the soaked trunks he wears strains around his bulge. you lift yourself up slowly to rest on your forearms, “is there something you wanna tell me?”

his smirk widens as he strides across your bedroom, standing directly in front of you so his bulge is eye level with you, “is there something you’re expecting me to ask?” and he nearly twitches when you look up at him from this angle, this specific view very familiar to him.

other times it’s you, this time you and the rest of the family outside laying by the pool. the loud summer sun burning new complexions into everyone, of course you need sunscreen. so it’d only be right to ask oliver to do it. farleigh’s closest friend of course. you arch against oliver’s palms, hands slowly working the white substance into your skin. you tilt your head back, little moans escaping your throat. making sure to let oliver know how good he is with his hands, all while making eye contact with farleigh. and you can see his lips tighten and thin around his ciggie.

sometimes it’s more subtle, maybe you’re eating a popsicle not even realizing farleigh was looking but of course when he does, you delightfully put on a show. he’s looking intensely, how the sweet treat creates a temporary bulge in your cheek much how his cock has in the past. the way your lips circle and pull around the orange treat, you purposely hollowing your cheeks. you wanna giggle when you watch him readjust in his seat, the book he was reading conveniently covering his hard on.

the sounds of you slurping and swallowing whatever juices melted on your tongue, while the rest dribbles down your throat and disappears into your chest. eventually you pull the popsicle out with a lewd pop, this time looking at him when your tongue licks a bold stripe up the chilled dessert. you lick your lips pointing the popsicle towards him, “d’you wanna taste?”

other times it’s him with a lollipop, maybe you’re sitting on his lap, bodies sticking together from the heat. the two of you watch a movie with felix and venetia. pretty pink lips wrapping and slurping around the red candy, and making eye contact was the worse thing you’ve could’ve done cause now it’s nearly a staring contest. he steadily pulls the lolli out, and you catch a glimpse of a small string of saliva that connects between the lollipop and his bottom lip before snapping. he licks his bottom lip, a sweet layer of sugar stains his taste buds. “when the last time you wore lip gloss?” his question is almost startling, you’ve been so focused on him. unforgivable images playing in your head.

“what?” your voice is hoarse and dry, he gives a low chuckle, bringing his spit slick lollipop pop to the bottom of your lips and circling it around your mouth like its lip balm. your lips are wet and stained and you nearly moan when he presses an open, wet kiss to your chin. “don’t break, baby.” is all he whispers before returning back to the movie like it’s nothing, leaving you irritated with wet lips, not the ones on your face.

idek if this makes sense you know it’s brainrot. feedback is ALWAYS encouraging

[luveline]

I love your KBD universe it is soo adorable!! All the kids are written so cutely! I relate to Avery so much! I was thinking about what if mom is super pregnant and she always wants to be near Steve, like she almost doesn’t even want him out her line of sight. Always wanting to touch him and get kisses from him. Love your blog!!

kisses before dinner ♡ you're pregnant and steve is lovely

There is a silver lining to being eight months pregnant (that isn't the baby at the end) —your husband. 

Steve gets soft. When the physical evidence of your pregnancy becomes unignorable, and then glaringly obvious, he treats you with exceptional care, love and tenderness. You can't get enough of it or him. 

And you're like a lost puppy when he's not near. “Steve,” you say, feeling rather morose about the whole thing, “where are you?” 

“In the kitchen! Do you want something?” 

No, you think, just you. “What are you doing?” 

“Babe, I'm making you and Ave your drinks!” A telltale plink of ice cubes knocking against glass follows. “Don't get up, okay?” 

You squeeze Avery's hand where it's held in yours. “Does he think I'll explode?” 

She giggles, her almond eyes lit with her laughter. “Maybe, mom.” 

“Do you think I'll explode?” 

“No way. You didn't explode before.” 

“‘Xactly.” You'd offer to carry her, or simply scoop her up without asking, but being so pregnant actually does feel like you're going to explode sometimes and you figure it's a bad idea. “Let's go see what he's doing.” 

You and Avery pick over Dove's tea party, abandoned sadly in the middle of the living room, and make your way into the kitchen, which is less hecticly messy but a tad grimy after a long week. Grease clings to the stove top and there's a cherry red stain down the front of the refrigerator. Death of a stolen popsicle. 

Steve sighs when he sees you, too much love around his eyes for any believability when he chides, “You can't sit down. It's impossible.” 

You push yourself back against the counter next to his hip. Avery does the same immediately, giving him a similar look, you're sure. 

He tries to hide his smile with a sip of Avery's too full drink. “Here,” he says when it's at a safer level, “apple juice for you. And ice, princess.” 

“Thank you,” she says, eyes wide as her open palms. She takes it and drinks at it greedily, the sweet taste of concentrated sugar enough to steal her attention. She walks out of the kitchen calling for Beth. “Come have some juice!” 

“That's adorable,” Steve says. 

“You tend to make them that way.” 

He throws an arm against his forehead, slouching beside you, the other wrapping behind your back. “I know. It's exhausting.” 

You spy your youngest under the kitchen table. The girls are fascinated with alcoves and small spaces. If they can fit into a nook, they will, and if they can't, they'll squeeze in anyhow. She breathes through her mouth over a pad of paper with a shard of a crayon in hand, drawing rather intricate things, considering her age. 

“Are those flowers?” you whisper. 

“Think so…” Steve lifts his head high to kiss the top of yours, his arm moving up to your shoulders. He rubs at them like he's trying to relieve a pressure you haven't announced. “You really need to stop getting up all the time. You're at risk–” 

“No, the doctor said if I'm not careful I'd put myself at risk.”

“And what are you doing?” he asks, voice like velvet, smooth and soft as he looks behind your ear. He must see something, petting away a flyaway or a loose strand or something, his touch as tender as his voice. 

You tilt your head away from him. After as long in love with one another as you have been, he knows you're asking for something rather than moving away, and he leans in again to kiss your cheek, rubbing behind your ear all the while. 

“Let's go sit down,” he suggests. 

“In a second.” 

You're terrible lately but it's all his fault. You crave his affection both big and small, all the time, and in every place. You'll be off work any day now and you're sure you'll spend that time soaking him in while he runs ragged trying to get things ready. You've done it before. Steve in the grocery store looking for a hundred different things while you draw stars into the backs of his hand, or trying to fix the baby gate onto the wall while you sit on the stairs making googly eyes at him. 

“My boy,” you say stupidly, wrapping your arms around his neck. Regrettably, he can't continue to dote on you like that, but it prompts him to hug you as close as he can manage. “I love you.” You lay your cheek on his shoulder. “You smell really nice.” 

“I love you too.” Pine, today. Fresh. “I see what's happening.” 

“What's happening?” 

You think he's going to put you down. The baby hormones are making you clingy, he might say, but he doesn't. “You've realised how hot I am. You're late, but I'll forgive you. You know, ‘cos of your predicament.” 

“Thank you,” you say, kissing his neck gently. 

You leave a series of butterfly kisses down the column of his neck before squishing yourself into the curve of it, resting too much weight on him. He takes it all without complaint, hugging you tighter, the distension of your bump a beach ball between you that makes you unfortunately shorter, bending as you are. 

His breath is a pleased sound in your ear, but he doesn't say anything. You hug until you have a strange pain in your neck; he encourages you away from him like he can sense it. 

“You okay?” he asks, thumb under your eye, a millionth sweet touch to add to the mountain. 

“I'm great.” 

“Yeah?” He holds you in place and kisses you. “Love you,” he says, his bottom lip jutting against yours. He kisses you again, and then he pulls away completely, a hand between you both the only tether. “Time to sit down. I'm gonna take your blood pressure.” 

There's no need. If anything, the way he's looking at you might give an inaccurate reading, but you think of the fawning and fretting and the rough of his fingertips digging into the top of your arm and smile, giddy. “‘Kay.” 

“Come on, Dovey, let's go be mommy's doctor,” he calls to Dove. 

In a rather uncharacteristic episode of actually listening, she abandons her crayons and takes his offered hand. He shoots you a quick smirk, as if to say, Yeah, I did that. It's stupid and it makes you laugh, because you couldn't love him much more than this. 

[sabertoothwalrus]

How did you get so good at drawing such expressive bodies/faces??? tell me your secrets!! (But srsly your skills are amazing)

AAAA THANK YOU!!

I think my initial inspiration was about 10-11 years ago watching Adventure Time and finding Rebecca Sugar’s boards. Sometimes I get a little frustrated because she gets so much more notoriety than the other very very amazing AT boarders, but….. her expressions man…. she was always able to convey so much with SO LITTLE. (SU’s expressions are on another level of course, but I think AT’s are just so impressive to me because they’re dot eyes)

But the thing is!! I’m also a fan of deadpan. Which AT also does very well. It’s tempting to want to do BIG, extreme expressions at every moment, especially in comedic comics, but you really don’t need to. I find that characters often feel more expressive if you reel it in more often. That way, when you DO have bigger expressions, they FEEL bigger!

for example, a panel where the contrast between big and subtle expressions sells the contrast:

I don’t really,,,, know exactly what I do that works, ?? I kind of just like, think of the emotion I wanna convey, make the expression, think about what my face feels feels like, and try to convey that. Using a mirror helps!! You’ll feel a little stupid but it’s funny.

some misc expression tips:

Definitely prioritize eyebrows, eyes, and mouths!

Noses aren’t as important BUT flared nostril can totally sell an expression, so it depends!

Remember that your upper jaw is stationary, and your lower jaw can move, and then your lips and cheeks can move all around that!

Just subtly changing the placement of eyelids and location/size of irises can completely change an expression

Don’t be afraid to make your characters look weird or stupid.

Don’t reinvent the wheel! Take reference from different media you like that stylize expressions in different ways, and find what works for you. I take a lot of inspiration from AtLA

Again, NUANCE! Like, when most people are sad, they do their very best to try NOT to cry. People hold things in. Sometimes what characters don’t say can speak louder than what they do.

some expressions I’ve done that have varying levels of nuance:

Also framing!! You can use the composition to help project how the character feels:

As for body language!

Having a better sense of three-dimensional form and anatomy isn’t necessary, but it sure helps a lot

Hands!! I have adhd and my family is italian so I use my hands a lot when I talk. But even still, most people don’t just leave their hands hanging loosely by their sides. People cross their arms and fidget with their zippers and put their hands in pockets.

Head, neck, and shoulders. If you can master the foreshortening of these overlapping shapes at most angles, you will be very powerful

Hips & feet!!!!! People RARELY stand straight with both feet flat on the ground with even balance. Most people will shift their weight to one hip, leaving one leg looser and at an angle. It also helps to practice perspective, because people also rarely stand with their heels lined up side by side. One leg may get kicked foreward or loosely bent backwards. I sometimes cross my legs when I stand.

Ultimately, if you want more lifelike expressions and poses, study from life!! Don’t worry about your drawing being “good” or “bad”, instead think about what can make it successful. Ask yourself, “is this conveying the expression I want to convey?” and if it’s not, figure out what you need to change to get it there.

[radioisodoped]

The sun had just barely come up when you started packing up your things, a couple rays of light streaming into the room and warming your back as you stuff whatever you can manage into your bag. The next settlement is a two-day hike away, but you’ve got plenty of supplies. You’ll manage. Once the spoils of yesterday’s scavenge are safely put away, you make your way to the stairs. The wooden steps creak as you make your way down, idly considering which road out of town would be best.

Stepping down onto the landing, you see his boots first. One leg casually crossed over the other on the dust-covered table. He’s already got his hand cannon pointed right at you, gloved finger steady on the trigger.

“Come chat, sugar. I didn’t come all this way for nothin’.” he drawls, smoke billowing out from under his tipped hat. A bloom of anger grows in your stomach when you see he’s gone through at least half the pack of cigarettes you had stashed away. Half your whiskey too, you knew you were missing something. Bastard. All of that was worth at least a small handful of caps.

You glance to the front door, your barricade still in place. A low whistle interrupts your thoughts.

“Where’s your hospitality? C’mon now, come and say hello.”

He punctuates it by motioning to the table with his gun. Bastard. You walk over, dropping your bag at his feet. Casual house calls aren’t something you associate with him. Before you can ask what he needs, he interrupts you. “Sit down, sweetheart. You’re makin’ me nervous.”

You doubt it. His hand couldn’t be steadier as you pull out a chair for yourself.

You get halfway through asking what he’s doing here before he interrupts again. “I’m still waitin’ on a ‘hello, how are ya’. Where are your manners?”

The games are getting old. You ignore his question and level your best unimpressed look at him.

“Are you here to kill me?”

He huffs out a laugh but doesn’t offer a response. You try not to let it phase you, reaching across his legs to grab the bottle of whiskey before you speak again. “If you are, I’d appreciate a heads up. Maybe even some last words, if you’re feeling particularly generous.”

He laughs again, shaking his head. “You and me both know I ain’t the generous sort. Though, that has nothin’ to do with whether you’ll die today.”

You take a swig from the bottle, watching out of the corner of your eye as he sets his gun down on the table. You’d never let him know it, but you’re a little relieved.

Another swig for courage and his gun out of hand, you feel yourself loosening up. The pretty little .44 holstered on your thigh could take the leg off a brahmin. You flirt with the notion of wrapping your hand around it and shooting him right through the ribs. Oh, you’d die. That’s an absolute certainty. He'd have bits of your head sprayed all over the room before you could get a second shot in. It’d almost be worth it to fuck up his day, though.

You watch him take a drag off of one of your cigarettes and a different thought forces its way to the front. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve earned your way out of a sticky situation

It won't be the last, either. You'll make sure of it. With death still on the table, you loosen your grip on the bottle and let it hang loosely from your fingers so the rim is just barely brushing over your bottom lip.

He tips his Stetson up and you can finally see his eyes, watch the slow drag of his gaze from your fingers to your mouth. You part your lips just enough that the tip of your tongue can pick up a drop of booze that's settled in the mouth of the bottle.

He smiles, half amused. You'll take it. With a small shake of his head, he speaks again. "I'm not here to kill ya, sweetheart, but I am here on business."

"Color me shocked." you mumble, "And here I thought you just missed my pretty face."

"Why can't it be both?"

You make a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh, setting down the bottle. "Careful, Casanova. Keep that up and I might start thinking you like me."

Burnt lips split into a sleazy grin, cigarette hanging loosely between his teeth. He leans back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. "'Course I like you. Don't you remember when we first met?"

Your face heats. That memory had kept you warm on plenty of lonely nights. You'd guess with the way he's looking at you, he's just as fond of it. A little teasing wouldn't hurt, and you're not in the mood to inflate his ego any more than it already is.

"Which time was that?" you ask, leaning back and pulling your eyebrows together to mock a thoughtful look. "The one where you left me on my knees without returning the favor, or the second time you left without getting me off?"

His smile doesn't drop, but you see a muscle in his burned cheek twitch. You hit a nerve. Good. You haven't forgotten how he neglected all of yours.

"Last time wasn't my fault. You knew better than to get handsy somewhere we might get caught." he drawls, most of the humor gone from his tone. He had a point- that was a mess. And mostly your fault. You still had the scar to remember it. He tilts his head, continuing on. "That first time, though? I didn't owe you shit. Besides, with the way you're still running your mouth... Well, clearly I didn't use it hard enough for you to learn anything. Seems to me you got the better deal out of that bargain."

Not one to be outdone, you stand. His eyes follow your every move, watching as you walk over. He barely has time to drop his boots back onto the ground before you straddle his lap, his spurs clinking as he settles. He's already hard when you grind down against him, steadying yourself by gripping his jacket. He does nothing to help, just leans back and reaches for your leg. You arch your back, welcoming the touch, but he just unbuckles your thigh holster, throwing your .44 on the table beside his own gun.

You roll your eyes, rocking your hips again. "Paranoid old man. If I was going to shoot you, I'd have done it while you were eyefucking me."

He laughs, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and stubbing it out on the table while he responds. "You should've. Would've made me want you even more."

"Do you get this hard for everyone you're going to kill?"

He spreads his thighs beneath you, his hands landing on your hips to keep you flush with his bulge as he readjusts. "'Course not, darling. Just brats like you.”

You’ve never wanted someone inside you more in your life. You ache with it. You reach down to fight with his belt buckle and he snickers. “Slow down and enjoy it, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re the kind of person who’d complain if you were bein’ hung with a gold rope.”

“Yeah, well, at least I know the rope can get the job done.”

You don’t have time to bask in the jab before you're sliding off his lap, surprised to find him suddenly standing. His hand wraps around your throat before he wrestles you down onto the rickety table. The whole thing shakes under your back, threatening to break under the strain of your struggle.

“You got a big fuckin’ mouth on you.” He sneers, leaning down close and narrowing his eyes. “I oughta not let you get off again just to prove a point.”

“All that would do is prove me right. You aren’t good for shit outside of killing-“

The slap shocks you. You’re suddenly looking at the wall, the taste of blood coating your tongue. A beat. Then another. You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him close until his cock is pressed right up against where you need him. He laughs under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “You crazy, insatiable bitch.”

He pulls his hand back, unbuckling his belt with a practiced motion that stokes the fire in your stomach. He slips his cock out unceremoniously, glove dragging over ridged skin. “You better be ready, sweetheart. I ain’t wastin’ any more time gettin’ you worked up. I told you I didn’t come for fun.”

Clothes are ripped and forced out of the way, his cock head pressing against your hole. He finally pushes in and you bite your lip, throwing your head back to stare at the stained ceiling as you moan out. “Yeah, but you’ll come for me, right?”

He hums, grabbing at your hips to pull you the rest of the way down his cock. “I always do.”

You choke on a moan, nails digging into the wood beneath you when he bottoms out. The whole table rocks as he thrusts into you, slow at first but gaining momentum quickly. This house was one of the safer places to be, but he wouldn’t afford you the luxury of a gentle fuck.

You know he could, if he wanted to. The grip on your hips isn’t painful, despite the punishing pace he’s set. There's something soft, reverent, in the way his hands drift over your clothes. Not like the way he touched you every other time you've had the privilege of his hands on you.

You're starting to think he really does like you.

The revelation unsettles you a bit. Not in a bad way, necessarily. You just didn't think he was capable of it. You watch the muscles in his neck tense as he holds back noises. You've bitten your lip raw for the same reason.

It's been a while for you. You'd had people since him, sure... but it wasn't the same. Never as satisfying as this. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but you think he might agree. He grunts and leans on one arm beside your head, chasing his own release. You want to make some smart quip, reminding him to slow down and enjoy it, sweetheart, but you think better of it. Your jaw still aches from the slap.

It's not long before he's unloading inside you with a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips twitch against you. An unnatural heat reminds you to look for some radaway once he's gone, but you're distracted by his hand slipping between your bodies. Embarrassingly, it doesn't take much. Rusty or not, he knows how to use his fingers. The fabric of his glove drags along just right and you keen, back arching as you come around his cock.

He lets you ride the high, only pulling away when you go limp and start to pant. He pulls out, leaving you looking like a mess as he readjusts himself. He could still kill you. He might, honestly. You couldn't give less of a fuck if you tried. He holsters his gun as your eyes shut, enjoying the afterglow. Of course, he doesn't let you rest long.

“That was an awful nice treat, but we got things to do. Up and at ‘em, darlin'." He slaps the side of your thigh with a smile, jolting you out of your reverie. "We’re goin’ on a field trip.”

[starstruckgrrl]

✿﹒wanna, wanna, gotta, gotta, give it to you ! ~ enji todoroki / endeavor

‧₊˚ ෆ synopsis: endeavor remarries your mother, but finds you so much more enticing.

𓍢 ִ ໋ ⊹ warnings: endeavor lol, smut, age-gap (not underage), step-cest, sugar daddy type beat, sub!reader, spoiled reader, daddy kink

a/n: hey guys!! i’m gonna start posting some more about my personal interests n kinks n stuff!! however, you’re totally free to req whatever u like and i’ll answer them asap :3 title is loosely based on give it away by red hot chili peppers, that song is kind of how i feel like loving endeavor would feel tbh...

you and your daddy had made yourselves a routine. harboring hatred for everyone around him had huge consequences on his stress levels, so you were in charge of regulating that for him.

endeavor would come home, change into a tank top and sweatpants, and sit on the couch to breathe. he never missed the opportunity to strut around the house to show off, knowing how attractive you thought he was. while your mother was out running errands, enji calls for you to come sit on his lap on the couch. he combs through your hair and presents you with a gift, that new coach bag you've been wanting! "thank you, daddy!!" you say as you look up at him, giving him a big smile. "you're welcome, princess. why don't you give daddy a proper thank you?" you giggle excitedly and get down on your knees in front of him on the floor. he parts his legs to let you gain access to his cock, and you pull it out like a child opening presents on christmas day. maybe you were a little cock-brained, but who wouldn't be when your daddy's dick was so perfect? it was thick and long, with two prominent veins on the side. the tip was cute and pink and dribbled when you would tease and grind on him. the curve would stimulate you oh-so-good when he fucked into you, no matter what pace he was going at. you wrap your hands around it, pumping it slowly and licking the tip. you flatten your tongue and lick long strips from the base to the tip, finally taking it in your mouth and trying your best to take it all. his hand cups your head and his thumb strokes your head as he huffs and whispers out praises to you. "you're daddy's good girl, baby." he says, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. you know better than to talk with your mouth full, and move your hands to cup his balls and play with them softly. you took his cock out of your mouth to lick his balls and care for them while stroking him, paying extra attention to squeeze around the tip. he moves his hand to the back of your head to push you towards him further, and you breathe in his smell. he smells so fucking good and manly, and you can't help but savor it as you take his balls in your mouth and lick them. "gonna cum, princess. swallow for me, don't want to leave a mess for your mom to find and know what we've been doing." you move to his cock and your daddy grabs the back of your head to throat-fuck you until he cums and there's tears coming out of your eyes. he bucks up into you as he releases his cum all the way down your throat. when he releases you, you're huffing and puffing for a moment before you can open your mouth to show that you've swallowed it all. "what do you say for the meal, baby?" "thank you, daddy!"

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-two of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon.

Kon makes the softest little sound Tim has ever heard and kisses him back. His mouth doesn’t give like it should–at least, not like a fully human mouth would–but Tim doesn’t know if that’s the TTK or the Kryptonian physiology coming in. He really can’t figure it out right now, though, because his every single synapse is busy being obsessed with Kon in close and warm and kissing him so softly, and maybe that’s just because he has super-strength and doesn’t want to bruise the civilian but it feels . . . 

Tim doesn’t even have a sentence there. It just feels. 

Kon’s lips aren’t any more chapped than his hands were. His mouth feels like velvet over steel, like satin wrapped around a weapon, and the dichotomy is really, really doing it for Tim. 

So is literally everything about Kon right now, of course. 

Tim, clinically, wonders what TTK feels like. If that’s the soft velvet-satin sensation he’s feeling, or . . . 

Maybe Kon let his TTK down for this, he thinks, and then nearly burns alive at the thought. Maybe Kon trusted him enough to kiss him without it in the way, though: his strongest defense, his best trick, that whole sense. 

Kon leans back just enough to separate their lips, and Tim exhales raggedly. He thinks he can feel the shape of Kon’s smile against his mouth when the other takes a breath of his own. 

“You can take some pictures, if you want,” Kon murmurs lowly. Tim, again, nearly falls off the bench. “If you’re into that.” 

Tim actually does not even have the words for how “into that” he is, honestly. Like not even slightly. Not even a little bit. 

“Maybe a couple,” he manages. His voice is a little strangled, but more or less coherent, so he figures that’s–fine. Yeah. It’s fine. 

“Cool,” Kon hums, then presses one last chaste little peck to his lips before straightening back up and flicking open the button of his pants. “But close your eyes for a sec first, okay?” 

Tim considers spontaneously combusting, but just puts a hand over his eyes instead. Sure. Why not. He’s already doomed; might as well really commit. 

He hears Kon’s zipper go down. 

Christ on a cracker, he thinks only a little bit hysterically. This was not in any way whatsoever in the plan. Not even a little bit was this in the plan. Ever. At all. Ever. 

He should stop him. He doesn't even know what Kon's doing, but he should definitely stop him.

He does not. 

He hears Kon moving. Hears fabric rustle. Feels a lot of things, including the terrible and mortifying realization that actually the shopping bag currently in his lap is probably doing jack all for him because Kon has TTK and therefore doesn't actually need to see him to know that he's getting–

Never mind. 

Fuck, Tim is in so far over his head. He's definitely in over his head. He is in over his head and wearing cement shoes and the water level is rising. 

“Hey,” Kon says after a few more moments of rustling fabric, and Tim can hear the grin in the bastard's voice as clear as he heard that goddamn zipper. “Look what I found.” 

Tim opens his eyes with thrilled dread and horrified delight, bracing himself for the worst. 

It turns out to be worse than that. 

“Fuck,” Tim says, staring dumbfounded at Kon, whose cheeks are flushed and mouth is smirking and pose is casually merciless and . . . and oh fucking hell. 

Tim has no idea when, where, or how, but Kon has somehow dug up the tiniest pair of denim shorts he has ever seen in real life and a stretchy, loose-fit crop top T-shirt with a big bright S-shield that fits implausibly tightly across his pecs and exposes every inch of his abs and way too much of his Adonis belt and oh, okay, yeah, Tim was in no way braced enough. No way whatsoever. Not even slightly.  

He is suddenly mortifyingly aware of Kon having thighs. Like, he's noticed Kon's arms before–it would be physically impossible not to have, even through the leather jacket–but somehow he never noticed his thighs. 

Terrible oversight on his part, there. 

Tim swallows. 

“Oh, so you, uh . . . remember that conversation, huh,” he manages weakly, and Kon's smirk goes sly again and he makes a point of shifting into a stupid come-hither teen-zine pose that has Tim silently praying for mercy.

“I definitely remember that conversation,” Kon says. 

Tim honestly did not expect him to. Like . . . why would Kon remember that conversation? Just flirting around a little shouldn’t necessitate . . . 

It occurs to Tim that Kon might’ve remembered that conversation because he’d made the effort to. That he might’ve tried to. Tim had said there was something he’d like to see him in, and Kon had made it a point to remember that. And then a point to go and find it. 

Fuck, Tim thinks in near-hysteria, and only doesn’t burst into literal flames of mortification by the mercy of the multiverse. He told Kon he was into something and Kon went to the effort to make it happen for him. Because Kon . . . wants to do that, apparently. Wants to do things Tim is into. 

“Oh,” Tim croaks, and Kon bites his lip around a wider smirk and then just sort of steps back into his space a little and then . . . 

Then he plucks up the shopping bag in Tim’s lap by the handles, sets it aside, and replaces it. 

Replaces it with himself, to be clear. 

Tim blinks, very slowly, and every fucking drop of blood in his brain abandons ship to fly south for the summer. Kon’s arms are braced against the wall on either side of Tim’s head and Kon’s thighs are on either side of Tim’s thighs, and Kon is kneeling over Tim’s lap. Tim’s actual literal lap.

If there was any chance of Tim coming up with something coherent to say about that, the way Kon leans down into “close enough to kiss” territory would absolutely and entirely vaporize it. 

“Does it look as good as you thought it would?” Kon asks, his eyes warm and heated and bluer than anything and his voice a low and shameless purr. Tim continues to lack a coherent vocabulary to answer him with. “Tim?” 

“Asdfghjk,” Tim manages, which might be sort of like words or might just be the verbal equivalent of a literal keyboard smash, maybe, and then does the stupidest possible thing he could do, which is grab Kon’s hips and kiss him again. Kon makes that same soft little sound into it, going loose and liquid in his lap, and then wraps his arms around his neck and tries to eat him alive. 

Tim is in no way complaining about that, for the record. 

Bragging, maybe. Maybe he’s technically more bragging, in this scenario. In his defense, Kon is filling up his entire lap with an infinite expanse of smooth muscle and bare skin and a fucking S-shield crop top, which Tim would really have expected people to have more respect for Superman than to make and sell commercially but really should’ve known better than to, in fact, expect people to have more respect for Superman than to make and sell commercially. 

"Kon–" he chokes out unthinkingly as Kon drops his mouth down behind his ear to kiss him there, brain all fried out on Kon's weight pressing down into his lap and Kon's body against his body and Kon's mouth high up his throat, on Kon's bare thighs and exposed stomach and the stretch of fabric across his muscles and his–and then he very abruptly remembers that Kon never actually told "Tim Drake" his name and his eyes flare in alarm and he panics and Kon–

Laughs? 

"Wow, you really did do your research," he observes in amusement, leaning back just enough to grin down at him. 

Tim is the luckiest son of a bitch alive. 

Also the stupidest, but that goes without saying. 

"Um," he says weakly. "Sorry?" 

"It's cool, babe, I'm starting to think scary stalker tendencies are just a Gotham thing at this point," Kon teases with another easy laugh, squeezing his arms around Tim's neck. They are unspeakably nice arms and Tim frankly does not deserve their presence. "To say nothing of the control freak stuff. I dunno, is there something in the water around here, or does it all just mean 'I like you' in Gothamite?" 

"So sorry," Tim stresses feebly, and Kon just smiles at him. 

"It's cool," he repeats quietly, ducking his head a little. "Seriously. I actually kinda like hearing you say my name. Or . . . okay, I really like it. It's still pretty new, to be honest, so I don't really hear it all that much. Shoulda told you it to begin with, I just . . . haven't had many people to tell, I guess.  But it's not like it's a secret or anything." 

"Ah," Tim says, his gut twisting with totally, totally inappropriate heat. 

"Wanna say it again, maybe?" Kon asks softly, leaning back in with just the faintest trace of glitter and warmth in his eyes. "Wanna say it all the time?" 

Tim definitely wants to do that, yes. 

"Kon-El," he says, and Kon smiles.

[mirai-e-jump]

ViVi Magazine, June 2024 Issue ft. Murakami Erica, Watanabe Aoto & Ikeda Masashi (translations below)

Publication: 4/23/2024

The King-Ohger co stars are a friendly trio Murakami Erica x Watanabe Aoto x Ikeda Masashi

Enjoying genderless "share t-shirts"

If you incorporate a unisex t-shirt into your outfit, you can achieve an easy, high end fashionable look 💛. It's also nice to share and enjoy them together with your boyfriend or friends.

Q: Tell us about a recent TMI (too much info)

Ikeda: For me, my chapstick always ends up somewhere before it's used up. Where does it always go?!

Erica: I've been busy moving across the country due to my family's relocation! I decluttered more than 10 bags during the cleanup. I think luck is coming my way 💛

Watanabe: TMI……you mean like blood sugar level?! Ah, that's not it either (laughs). My allergies act up during the first week of pollen season, but after that I'm fine. There are other people like that, right?

Q: What do you want to do this Spring?

Erica: I want to relax in the shade of a tree when it becomes warmer. I want to buy some dangos and donuts and spend my time watching movies and dramas.

Watanabe: Cherry blossom viewing. It's so fleeting when the cherry blossoms fall……(he gently holds Ikeda's hand). I'd like to eat a handmade bento while taking in the scent of Spring…(he gazes at Ikeda).

Ikeda: I'd like to challenge myself to go camping. Things like outdoor BBQ's are just the best, aren't they? At night, with Aoto beside me, we'd talk while looking at the stars……

Watanabe: In the tent, Masashi and I would be curled up in the same blanket. It gets cold at night, so…..

Erica: Alright, that's enough of that!! (laughs). _

"Introduce each other to the ViVi readers!"

Ikeda: Erieri's (Erica) face is really too small! Her skull's a champion. She's the big sister among the King-Ohger members.

Watanabe: Yeah. She's an airhead, but very caring!

Erica: Eh~ Thank you 💛. Aoto feels like the kind older brother, while Masashi is the second oldest who says too much.

Watanabe: Masashi is by far the whitest! He's like a reflector, illuminating everywhere he goes (laughs).

"What do you think of today's t-shirts?"

Erica: I like the loose fit. The shoulders are dyed unevenly, giving it a cute vintage look! I think you can wear it with denim for a masculine look, or match it with a miniskirt!

Ikeda: My "remake t-shirt" has a zipper and alternate designs that give off the feeling of an incomplete main character. This is cute on its own, but the jacket wrapped around the waist gives it a more feminine look.

Watanabe: Heart motifs worn by men are pretty rare, right? Depending on your hair style, you can wear it as cool or cute!

"If you exchanged t-shirts, how would you wear them?"

Erica: If I were to wear Aoto's heart t-shirt, I'd wear it with a mini skirt, lace socks, and mary janes for a "naughty girly" look!

Ikeda: If I were to wear Erieri's t-shirt, I'd make use of colors and patterns to create a one tone look!

Watanabe: Then, I'll wear Masashi's remake t-shirt with a unique hat and shoes to give it alittle more character. I want to go to a theme park while looking good. _

(Bottom of page)

(Masashi) Pure white prince (Isn't he too fleeting? he's going to disappear). by Aoto

(Erica) Princess Erica, of divine skeletal structure, descends here. by Masashi

(Aoto) Isn't he a genuine model?! I'm now realizing his appeal! by Erica

[rottenpumpkin13]

Dear SOLDIER Drug Lord,

Please give Lazard and only Lazard enough crack to put him at the level of a third and turn him loose on the floor.

Thank you,

Anon

P.s. I love your stuff you are amazing

Sephiroth: Zack, did you dispose of the apprehended drugs from our mission earlier.

Zack: Yup! Got rid of them just like you said.

Sephiroth: Oh good. So you burned them.

Zack: Burned them? No, I just hid them so no one will be able to find and use them ever again.

Sephiroth:

Zack: Fires are bad for the environment!

Sephiroth: Wh...where did you hide them?

Zack: In Lazard's office for safekeeping. I dumped out the sugar by the coffee machine and put the crack in there. You know, since he quit sugar and all. It's not like he'll accidentally take crack haha.

*There's a commotion, and then Rufus Shinra runs by screaming. Lazard chases after him with a large rock*

Lazard: I'M GOING TO CAIN AND ABEL YOUR ASS