#a better influx of stories

[ruffgem]

im fucking fighting demons as if i didnt ACTIVELY CHOOSE to write and draw an entire comic, make a series of giant oil paintings, construct an elaborate idea for my senior project involving a human-size marionette and a live feed camera and an insane amount of portraits, take a class where i have to write a fucking play for the final, and take another class where i have to analyze 208083287 movies per week this semester. like how am i mad at anyone or anything other than myself LOL

[bob-artist]

Hi, New People?

For some unfathomable reason, Tumblr has decided to suggest my blog to brand-new accounts to follow, so I've had a crazy influx of followers who, of the ones that are genuine accounts, probably have no idea what they've signed up for. (sorry.)

Oh, and I also have some new bittern-loving followers who have a slightly better idea but might not know the whole story!

So, here's your chance to escape, if you so choose.

Anyway, I'm Bob! I've been here since like 2012. I mostly make comics, but I also do some prose writing, game dev, and general shitposting. Should you choose to continue following me, you will be subjected to such content as

Canada geese.

Like... a LOT of Canada geese.

Also ferrets, the love of my life. And other art and general musings about my favorite animals, including but not limited to bitterns, grebes, pheasants, parrots, crayfish, eels, every single other type of mustelid, alpacas, etc.

But, because I can't be bothered to make myself a consistent "brand," I also make

Very Gay Comics.

I can't emphasize this enough, because I kinda suspect all those plumbing company blogs didn't know this before following me. I make very gay comics.

I'm working on a new webcomic called Into the Smoke that's gonna launch soon. It's about a gay medium who binds himself to a killer ghost, and I think my new follower with the car financing blog is gonna love it.

Lots more on that soon.

Anyway, I don't want to make a super long post. I just want to make sure y'all understand that if you follow me, you will get

Canada geese

and

Very Gay Comics.

Cool? Cool.

[sunderwight]

cumplane but it turns out that Airplane very much is a god

turns out that if you're on a certain level of reincarnations and you get electrocuted, it DOES count as a kind of heavenly tribulation, even if it happens because you spilled cup noodles on your shitty apartment's faulty wiring

but airplane wasn't like, mentally prepared to ascend, so instead of just arriving in the heavens to cheers and a parade he sort of got sidelined and fractured into a million billion pieces, which subconsciously coalesced into the component parts of the story he'd been working on

god!Airplane is operating on several unconscious levels. but basically, every person in the PIDW/SV setting? is actually him. he is simultaneously luo binghe and mobei jun and ning yingying and yue qingyuan and tianlang jun and the old palace master and etc, more or less playing out various roles in an effort to make sense of his sudden influx of divine power

shang qinghua, however, is the only incarnation that attains awareness of his past life. apart from the system, of course, which holds onto the majority of Airplane's divine power

when Shen Yuan dies, Airplane senses it and drags his soul into this mess, on some mixed impulse of "no don't go" but also "come and see, see what I'm making, tell me it's good now" and "fuck you for all those mean things you said, you think you can do better?"

Airplane and Shen Yuan as the only actual people in the story, except the other characters exist too, they're just all secretly (unwittingly) the same person. kind of

anyway after hundreds and hundreds of years of this, eventually Airplane sorts his shit out, the universe collapses in on itself, and the only ones left are him and Shen Yuan. Airplane is Shang Qinghua, but he's also Luo Binghe, and everyone else besides. ordinarily this would be distressing for both of them, but since they've actually had time to sort shit out they're pretty chill about it. Shen Yuan had started to figure it out a few hundred years ago. Airplane both had and hadn't, because real acceptance and understanding eventually triggered the world to collapse, and a lot of him had been against that by then. willing to live a fractured life it meant that the parts of him which had found happiness and acceptance could keep on having that

but the happiness and acceptance don't go away when the world is done. even though he was afraid that they would. the parts of him that learned to love himself still do, and Shen Yuan is still there and his shizun still loves him, is still his bro, his shixiong, his everything. wherever Airplane goes, he will follow

Airplane ascends as a literary god and brings along his only true believer (Luo Binghe arrives at a throne in the heavens and immediately sits his shizun upon it) and it's pretty chill, in fact

[atticrissfinch]

Something New (joel miller x fem!reader) (18+)

An optional [standalone] installment of Gimme What I Want

pairing: dom/brat tamer!joel miller x fem!reader summary: Joel wants to introduce you to a new kink warnings/tags:  [18+ MINORS DNI] no!outbreak, age gap (Joel is 56, reader is 25), watersports (piss!kink), golden shower, established dom/sub relationship, daddy!kink, degradation!kink, humiliation!kink, praise!kink, facial, brief unprotected piv, creampie, brief cockwarming, Joel being v fluffy, reader is shorter than joel and has hair, for possibly the first time ever me glossing over the actual sex.  word count: ~3.6K | ao3 warning: PLEASE READ THE TAGS. We’re entering some uncharted territory for me and, from what I’ve seen, most of the fandom. I know this isn’t for everyone!! Please don’t read if you KNOW it won’t be for you! But I’m not trying to be edgy. Don’t want anyone to have the worst day on their blog. So please proceed with caution. But if you’re willing to give it a try, thank you!  a/n: Since this is not everyone’s cuppa, I wrote this as an optional fic in my dom!joel series, but it can also be read as a standalone for anyone wanting to dip their toes in this kink 👀

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi

“Looking mighty pensive over there.”

Joel’s head breaks free of the hand cupping his chin as he swivels to look at you where you sit on the other end of the couch, your legs extended toward him. “Mmm?”

You give a short laugh and poke his thigh with your big toe. “Look like you’re somewhere else right now. Take me with you.”

Joel’s expression goes sheepish, reaching out to stroke a hand over your bare foot affectionately. “I’m here, babygirl. Don’t you worry.”

“I like to think I know you better than that. What’s up?”

Joel takes a hefty breath and squeezes your foot. “Just thinkin’ about somethin’.”

“About…?”

His eyes flicker from your face to the couch, nervous in a way you haven’t seen him in a while. “Not real sure how you’re gonna react to it, ‘f I’m bein’ honest.”

Your brow furrows in concern as you sit up, leaning in to place your hand over his and slot your fingers together. “What’s the story, cowboy?”

He sighs and brings your entwined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of yours. “Just thinkin’ about one of the items on my list.”

“Oh?”

“Just somethin’ i'd really like to try, ‘f you’d let me.”

“Well, lay it on me. I already know what’s on that list, you’re not gonna shock me.”

“‘S true, I ‘s’pose,” He acknowledges with a nod. Then Joel is shifting, shuffling fully onto the couch until he’s hovering over you, hands bracketing your head on the armrest and knees straddling your waist. He bows his head down to steal a warm, passionate kiss from your lips, you falling pliant into the couch at his attention. He brushes your nose with his as he asks, “You recall number thirty-four?”

Even without Joel’s overwhelming presence above you, your addled brain wouldn’t be able to scrounge up that information. So you just shake your head. 

“A certain special kind of…” Joel trails off to nip at your neck before whispering in your ear, “Shower.”

The tumbleweeds in your head start to clear as another image presents itself. And you know exactly what he’s referring to. 

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Joel affirms, sucking kisses into your neck as he gives you a moment to process. 

“Fuck, I can’t think with you doing that, daddy,”  You protest breathily, swallowing the sudden influx of saliva flooding your mouth at his ministrations. 

He chuckles softly against your neck and plants one more peck before pulling away to look back at you. “That better?”

And you’d love to think it is, but just him looking at you like that, the heat buried in his eyes and the sexy lines of his face, doesn’t have you thinking the most clearly. You slowly ease yourself upright, Joel shifting back to accommodate you, granting you some space. You cup his cheek with one hand, studying his face. 

“So you want to pee on me?” You state simply, mussing with Joel’s bottom lip. He breaks into a grin and bites playfully at the side of your thumb. 

“I just might.”

You did know that had been on his list as a “yes”. Yours remained as a very tentative “maybe”. It had almost been a flat-out “no”, but there hadn’t been many things on that list you had actually put that down for, and something about Joel made almost everything an “up for discussion” option for you. So you’d scribbled it out at the last minute in favor of your current “maybe”.

But the prospect of it…you really are undecided. You’ve seen it every now and again slipped into different porns you’ve watched when you weren’t expecting it and…well, the idea doesn’t seem like the most unappealing thing. Particularly if it’s Joel who would be administering it. Yet you still grapple with a small block in your brain that…Joel wants to piss on you. 

You’ve never even seen Joel piss before, not really. Maybe out of the corner of your eye in the bathroom in the mornings when you've slept over, but you’ve never watched him. And you’ve absolutely never fantasized about what it would feel like on your skin. What the reality of that would be. 

But Joel’s interest in it has you interested. So you decide to delve. 

Your teeth pull at your lip as you look over his face. “Could you maybe…tell me why? From your perspective?”

“I can certainly try,” He mumbles as he kisses the bitten skin of your thumb. He takes your hand in his again and holds it in his lap. “For me, I think, what draws the appeal is the total submission.”

“Oh, am I not submissive enough for you yet?” You tease, nipping a kiss onto his scruffy chin. 

“Pain in my ass 24/7,” He rebuttals, pinching your chin between his fingers in retaliation and capturing your lips in another brief, fiery kiss. As he continues his justification, his breath fans out over your lips and face. “I want you covered in me. I want you on your knees, soaked head to toe in my spit, come, and piss and every combination in between. See how prissy you are then.”

Shit. 

“I think you’d look so goddamn pretty covered in me. So doe-eyed and vulnerable. Such a beautiful, desperate little slut.” 

“Y-yeah?” You stutter out. 

You swallow thickly as his words settle right between your legs. And the way he lays it out for you has you seeing his side pretty clearly. Has your skin growing hot and your pussy growing wet. His eyes bore into yours and you can see the moment he can tell that he’s got you. 

He retains his hold on your chin as he looks down on you. “What do you think, babygirl? You want daddy to own you like that? Degrade you, humiliate you like that?”

“M-maybe,” You mumble, trying to hold out on him just a little longer before you cave at the slightest push. 

“Maybe? Maybe you wanna be daddy’s little whore who does whatever he says? Maybe you wanna be his little piss slut?”

You give a stilted nod and a shaky, “Maybe.”

Joel’s jaw shifts as he quirks an eyebrow at you. “A ‘maybe’ is just a ‘no’ until it’s a ‘yes’, babygirl. Can’t do shit with ‘maybe’.”

You do your best to mull it over in your head, despite you already knowing the answer. You play the image in your mind, what you imagine it would be like. On your knees in the shower, gazing up at him as that shoots out of his cock and onto your skin. The warmth of it, the taboo, the true humiliation. Him completely fucking owning you in a way you never thought you’d let him. 

Your voice is muted, but sure, as you say, “Yes.”

A wicked smile crosses his face as he caresses your cheek. “That’s my girl.”

“But-but I have some stipulations,” You interject, pushing past your instinct to just let him do it right here, right now, consequences be damned. 

“Stipulate away.”

You capture his eyes with your own, and he waits patiently for you to share your thoughts. 

“Ok. First, I want some preparation time. So, in other words, not tonight.”

“Damn,” He mutters, but ultimately nods, “Okay.”

“Mainly because I want you hydrated. Like, freakishly hydrated, please. At least the first time we do it.”

Joel rolls his eyes a little, but nods again. “We can discuss that a little more after the first time. After we get you acclimated.”

Your nose crinkles. “Why?”

“Don’t worry about it right now. I will be hydrated as a goddamn fish the first time, babygirl. What else?”

You opt not to think too much about what he could be implying with that comment and press onward. You take a breath and reassure your gaze on his as you insist, “Not in my mouth.”

Joel’s face immediately pinches in disappointment, and he counters with, “What about on your mouth? Just across your lips. No requirement to taste it.”

You pout your lips to the side in consideration. Your mind likes the idea of Joel degrading you that way, but you’re hesitant about the actual taste. You don’t have much of a clue what to anticipate on that front, but if he says you don’t have to taste it, you suppose you can let him have that much. You finally sigh and nod. “Okay. That’s fine. I can compromise on that.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“You trying to talk me out of it, cowboy?” You challenge with a cheeky smile. 

He holds his hands up with a shake of his head. “Not at all. Just don’t want you to feel pressured, babygirl.”

“I don’t feel pressured. This is my decision. And I know we can reevaluate at any time if we need to. I’m just feeling this out for now.”

Joel offers you a gentle smile and a stroke to your cheek. “Understood, babygirl.”

You take another weighted breath and then nod. “Then that’s all I have at the moment.”

“Okay,” Joel relays resolutely, gripping your jaw in his hand and burrowing his heated gaze into yours. “In that case, I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk, right fuckin’ now. Right on this fuckin’ couch. Got any stipulations about that?”

You don’t. 

And he shows you how grateful he is for your acquiescence one deep stroke and dirty whisper at a time. 

—

The night comes three days later, over the weekend where you have ample time to spend together. Joel abides by his promise, and you spy him downing several full bottles’ worth of water throughout the day. Whenever he catches you staring as he sips, he gives you a sly little wink. 

By the time you’re both stripped naked and he has you bent over the edge of his bed in the evening, stuffed full to the brim of his cock, you’re feeling wired and almost desperate for the new experience. 

“Oh shit, daddy’s comin’, baby. Get on those fuckin’ knees,” He commands as he pulls out of your spent cunt, and you slide off the edge of the bed and onto your knees in front of him. He tilts your chin up with one hand as he strokes himself off, finally shooting his come all over your face with a feral grunt. Thick ropes paint across your nose, lips, and eyelashes. 

Joel brushes a finger against your lash to rid what he can from getting into your eye and pushes the digit into your mouth for you to suck clean. 

“Good girl, baby. So pretty like this.”

You lax the suction around his finger, only for him to press firmly down on your tongue with his thumb. Your eyelids flutter as you look up at him. 

He serves you a no-nonsense look as he stares you down. “Don’t you touch that come on your lips. Not a single swipe of that tongue. We clear?”

Robbed of speech, you just nod. 

“I got other plans for that mess,” He mutters as he releases your tongue to haul you off the ground by the arm. “Bathroom.”

You stumble after him as he pushes into the en-suite. You watch, vibrating with an anxiousness that vacillates between truly nervous and excited, as he carefully folds a clean towel and deposits it on the floor of the open shower cubicle. He nods towards the makeshift cushion and instructs you to kneel. 

You nimbly step into the shower and drop to your knees, deeply grateful for the additional padding. Joel latches the glass door behind him, a loose fist around his semi-hard cock as he stands before you, looking down on you where you remain in complete subservience. 

“This what you want, babygirl?”

You nod up at him. 

“I need a ‘yes daddy’.”

“Yes, daddy,” You utter, eyes not able to choose between taking in his cock or his face. 

“‘Yes, daddy’ what?” He presses, massaging his balls gently. 

“Yes, daddy, please piss on me.”

“Good girl,” He rasps, prolonging the vowels in his response. “If you don’t like it, you safeword, and I stop. No questions. Like always. Understood?” 

“Yes, sir.” You recite back. 

“Okay. Keep those lips closed nice and tight unless you want a big surprise, baby,” He warns, his eyes shuttering closed and a breathy moan gracing his lips as he feels a much different release approaching. 

As soon as he feels it cascading out the tip, his eyes snap back open to take in the sight of you being hit with his piss for the first time. The stream shoots straight for your chin, and you instinctively tighten up your face, drawing your lips and eyelids closed. 

It is warm, as you’d anticipated. Kind of hot, actually. A rapidly cooling 98.6 degrees pelting your skin. And it’s…fuck, it’s nice. It’s a pleasant feeling, despite the reality of the substance. 

Joel laughs breathily as the stream of piss streaks down your neck and across your peaked nipples. 

“Open those eyes, babygirl. Watch what daddy’s doin’ to his little girl.”

You somewhat reluctantly force them open and are met with the sight of Joel’s fingers looped around the outrageous thickness of his still-softening cock, and the nearly clear liquid jettisoning from the slit onto your already slick tits. You whimper shamelessly at the sensation as Joel smirks open-mouthedly at your reaction. 

“There we go. That’s what I thought. Knew you’d be a good little piss bitch.”

You whine as you dip a hand between your legs, rubbing at your sore, damp clit as streams of Joel’s piss rush down your stomach. 

“Gonna clean my come off your face now. Shut tight,” He reminds, and you nod as you squeeze your lips together. With that, he takes a step forward and tilts the head of his cock upward, squirting you directly on the mouth with his hot piss. 

Another whimper escapes the back of your throat as he sprays off the pearly evidence of his load from your cheeks and nose. 

“Fuck, that’s so sexy, babygirl. Takin’ it so good for me,” He encourages as his warmth splatters your face and into your hairline. “Fuckin’ dirty girl, doin’ this for your daddy, huh?”

You want to answer but don’t dare risk the consequences, opting to nod aggressively instead as you squeeze your tit with your hand and grind against your fingers desperately.  

Joel groans as his stream starts to sputter out, spewing shorter and shorter jets of his hot, sterile filth onto your skin. He crowds your space, resting the slit of his cock on the tip of your upturned chin as he milks himself empty and spills out the last of his piss in dribbling rivulets down the expanse of your neck. 

Your gasps go hungrier as your fingers rub at your clit, Joel tapping the urine-soaked head against your chin. 

“You gonna come again with daddy’s piss dripping down your clit, baby? Show daddy what a good little whore you are. Come on those piss-drenched little fingers,” He orders, and that’s all it takes for you to scream out your orgasm, getting the briefest taste of his heady, forbidden spend on your lips as they part, hurtling you over the edge. 

“Shit, baby,” He pants out, slapping his hand against the wall of the shower and breathing like he just ran a lap rather than expelled a normal bodily function. “Been holding that in all fuckin’ day for you, pretty girl.”

You stare up at him with wide eyes and dare to dart your tongue across your lips, sampling the taste of him on your skin. You see his expression collapse into one of pure, devastating desire at the act, extending a hand to glide across your dripping cheek and over your damp lip. 

You open up wider, answering the unasked question on his face, and he slips it into your mouth with an aroused curiosity in his features. You suck on him diligently, wetly, savoring the way his fluids and his flesh meld together on your tastebuds. Enjoying it more than you thought you might. 

It helps exponentially that it’s him. It’s your dom, feeding you a part of himself. Your desire to please him, give him whatever he wants, flooding your mind with your own reciprocal pleasure. You feel so secure being at his mercy, bending your will to his, that in this moment you feel like you would do anything for this man. Not a doubt in your mind that he knows what is best for you, knows what you’ll love even before you know it yourself. 

“Such a good girl,” He croons, crouching down to your level. You can see the small battle in his head as his eyes remain fixed on your mouth, then the decision being made as he pulls you forward by the jaw and places a soft, plush, chaste kiss to your lips. He falls away with a soft laugh and his forehead pressed to yours. “That wouldn’t be worth tasting anywhere but off your lips, babygirl.”

“It’s not so bad,” You admit bashfully, running your nose along his. “No part of you could be bad, daddy.”

“No part of you neither, baby. And daddy is so pleased with you. You did so good, princess. So obedient. Lettin’ daddy teach you somethin’ new.”

“I don’t know if it’s something I wanna do all the time, but…” You trail off, but Joel shakes his head, his nose bumping against yours as he refuses to separate from you. 

“Only on real special occasions. I agree.”

Joel drops to a wide stance on his knees, enveloping you in his arms and holding you close to him, kissing your head. 

“Will you wash me?” You whisper into him as your fingers fiddle with the sparse hair on his chest. 

Joel gives a sigh filled with contentment as he wends his fingers through the hair at your scalp. “Do whatever you want me to, precious girl. You earned it.”

He washes you tenderly, massaging your head as he lathers in your shampoo, kissing down your shoulder as your body wash is rinsed away. Delicately cleaning the folds of your pussy with the hot water and kickstarting a warm pool in your belly with his calloused fingers which he decidedly does no further tending to, even as he washes himself down and you beg into the humid air for him to fuck you again. 

He dries you with a fluffy towel and offers you another for your damp hair. When you’re both settled in bed, he pulls your back into his chest and tangles his legs with yours, peppering your clean skin with more kisses. 

“Daddy? Can I ask you something?”

“‘Course, baby.”

“You mentioned we could discuss the whole…hydration thing later. When we were setting the ground rules.”

“I did,” He affirms, grazing his teeth along your skin and raising the hair on your arm in response. 

“What did you mean by that?”

Joel doesn’t speak for a beat. Then murmurs, “You really wanna know?”

“Yes, please.”

“Well,” He begins, tightening his hold around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder, “That’s a bit of that darker side of me shinin’ through, I think. Y’know, likin’ when you do shit cause I tell ya to, not because you like it. Knowin’ that you’re gonna shut up and take it, no fuss. ‘F I tell you to, you’re gonna get on your knees like a good girl and take my mornin’ piss right on your face, and it don’t matter what I had to drink the night before.”

That has your pussy tingling at just the thought of it. Now that you’ve done it, now that the threshold has been crossed, the two of you can start to experiment with it. Add on another layer of humiliation to his domination when he sees fit. 

“Know you’re gonna do what daddy tells you and take it on the chin,” He kisses your collarbone. “And on your cheeks,” He teases, a kiss to your shoulder. “And those perfect tits,” A kiss to your throat. “And anywhere else daddy decides to put it.” A final, bruising kiss to your neck. 

“I see,” You reply, struggling to keep your composure at the new prospect. 

“Do you, now?” He rumbles in your ear with a smug satisfaction in his voice, his tongue and teeth now fussing with your earlobe. 

You moan, rocking your hips back into him. “Please put your cock in me, daddy.”

He exhales through his nose, a smile pressed into your skin. “Three orgasms really not enough for you tonight?”

“Don’t need to come again. Just wanna feel you inside.”

“Yeah? Need daddy to fill you up again?”

“Yes, please,” You gasp as Joel rolls his hips into your ass, his cock hardening against you. “You said whatever I want, remember?”

“Damned if I didn’t, I guess,” He admits, already looping his arm under the back of your knee to create some space for him. 

“Thank you, daddy,” You sigh out as he notches at your opening again, your pussy sucking him back in easily with the memory of him already imprinted against your walls. 

When he bottoms out inside you, he stills, keeping his leg between yours as he releases your leg to rest on top of his. “Just relax, babygirl,” He mutters, smoothing a hand down your side. “Can drift off if you want. Daddy’s gonna take his time on this one. Just want you to keep him warm.”

“‘Kay,” You mumble, finding his hand and pulling it in your own across your stomach. 

And you do let yourself drift, full of Joel in so many senses of the word as he pumps into you with a lazy, intermittent grace until he finally unloads into your cunt and keeps you plugged as you keep him warm. Completely and utterly his. 

Since this is such a divisive kink I opted not to tag anyone, sorry!!

Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow@atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!

Visit here for instructions on how to get a tab just for the blogs you’ve subscribed to at the top of your tumblr page!

[lovelyhan]

— inflection point ⟢

a jeongcheol poly series!

★ FEATURING; jeonghan x afab!reader x seungcheol

★ STATUS; complete ; adding side stories as requested

★ TAGS; established polyamorous relationship, fluff, angst, smut (MINORS DNI!)

★ NOTES; because i'm getting an influx of inflection point side story/blurb requests, i decided to compile everything into a single masterlist for easy access! this remains one of my personal favorites and i'd love nothing more than to share more of reader's daily life with her two hot and rich boyfriends :3c

— main story ✧

✧ part one ✧

word count: 5.7k words

summary: you love yoon jeonghan. no, scratch that. you fucking adore yoon jeonghan; so much that the moment he asks you to be in an exclusive set-up with his current partner, you accept the offer in a heartbeat. what you fail to consider, however, is who your boss’ boyfriend actually is.

tags: unresolved emotional tension, friends to lovers on the hannie side of things, lovers to exes to enemies to lovers again on the cheol side of things, established relationship, angst, smut

✧ part two ✧

word count: 8.3k words

summary:  things make a turn for the worse (or the better?) when jeonghan leaves you with the most insufferable person on earth. but maybe a few weeks alone is exactly what you and seungcheol needed after all.

tags: unresolved emotional tension, established relationship, angst, smut

✧ part three ✧

word count: 7.6k words

summary: after reconciling with your first love, all seems well in your relationship thus far. but when you notice jeonghan distancing himself from you and seungcheol, you're determined to get to the bottom of it.

tags: established relationship, angst, smut

— side stories ✧

(🧺) smut (🎻) angst (🧸) fluff (☕️) crack

— getting rawed by cheol | 🧺 — when you're having a bad day | 🧸 — cheol locker room sex for good luck + hannie fucking his cum back inside you | 🧺

⟢ notes from kai: requests are perpetually open for this series regardless of whether i'm accepting general requests or not :3c that's how much i love this story LOL i can NEVER put it past me it seems.... altho i can't say whether i can cook something up right away when you request it, but i'll definitely consider each and every one! just slide into my ask and abuse the inflection point privilege~

[speechlessxx]

new addition. [henry cavill x reader]

summary: anything henry does instantly goes viral.

warnings: mention of fangirls. plot twist?

word count: ~850

It was a poor choice of words on Henry’s behalf – and he knew that.

You knew he knew that.

Ever since you’ve met him, nearly three years ago, you’ve noticed that Henry relished in the chaos he created from just one simple post. Whether it was a clip of him working out or him panting after his jog or even a simple picture of Kal, he sent the internet into a frenzy each time he broke his silence on social media. In fact, you would say he’d get off on it – but of course, he would only respond with a amused smirk and a shake of his head.

And sometimes, just sometimes, he liked to drag you into his mess.

So, when your phone dinged once, then twice, then a million times after one afternoon, you knew Henry had done something yet again.

At first, you ignored the incessant chimes of Instagram and Twitter. The colorful purple and the calm blue icons staring up at you, tauntingly as if saying, “we know something you don’t”. But this wasn’t your first time on the Henry post rollercoaster, and you opted to just turn your phone on Do Not Disturb, silencing the annoying chimes and buzzing.

But only for a few hours … until curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself exchanging your novel for your cell phone.

You noticed that your accounts had an influx of new followers and posts had more likes and comments than usual. The culprit for this sudden popularity was a single tagged post from your beloved boyfriend.

It was a rather strange occurrence. Henry was keen on keeping your relationship as private as his career would allow. You’ve graced his stories once or twice throughout your two year long relationship, but he had never been so outright and forthcoming on his public feed.

The photograph was nowhere near risqué – which brought a bit or relief to your anxiety. It was a photograph of you curled up on Henry’s bare chest, sleeping your fatigue away. You were covered up enough with the nearly sheer night slip and Henry’s muscled arm wrapped around you. However, it was the caption that caught your eye.

“Our new addition kept her up all night.”

Your jaw dropped and eyes widened as you read that line over and over again. That cheeky little –

There were multiple “congratulations” comments beneath the post, followed by various celebratory emojis. Of course, there was a heavy amount of jealous fans’ inputs, but you considered yourself a veteran at this point – their comments became an inherent risk the moment Henry asked you out on a date.

Speculations, articles, “Baby Cavill” trended worldwide. You couldn’t help but slap a palm onto your forehead before groaning. Despite being frustrated because you were trending for such an obscure reason, you couldn’t help but find the entire situation amusing.

You came out of your shared bedroom just as he was walking into the house. Normally, you would take the time to admire your sculpted-by-the-gods boyfriend – especially after a run or a work out – but today, you wagged a finger in his face.

“You,” you said, in a mock scolding tone, “owe the world an explanation, Mr. Cavill.” Behind Henry padded in Kal, who ran to greet you, nudging your calves with his wet nose. “Your dad has gotten me into big trouble, bear.”

The dog stared up at you with big eyes but you knew that the only thought going through the Akita’s mind was, “treat?”

Henry burst out laughing as he pulled out his phone, undoubtedly reading through the mess he’s created. He seemed almost as elated as he was when he saw the reactions to his PC building video.

“Hennn,” you whined, pouting.

Before your boyfriend could respond, a high pitched bark could be heard as your new puppy ran  towards its family. Energic from his afternoon nap, the little guy jumped and pawed at you, trying to get your attention. He’d occasionally bump into Kal but the older dog didn’t pay him any mind, opting to lay down on the wooden floors, exhausted from his run with his dad.

You bent down to play with the little puppy, cooing at it and handling its tiny paws as Henry recorded.

He’d eventually post the multitude of photos and videos of you and the new puppy with the caption, “Just to clarify, we got a new puppy.” The simple caption would ease the fangirls, but the new puppy news did not stop Baby Cavill from continuing to trend.

Henry loved watching his family grow. The puppy testing Kal’s patience, but Kal proving time and time again that he is a very good boy. And you were an incredible dog mom. Going through the photos on his new post brought a smile to his face as he found himself getting lost in a day dream. He couldn’t wait to introduce an actual little one to the family (though you’d argue that the puppy was indeed your baby).

[zeroeightzeroone]

my valentine - han jisung

love collection

genre: soft/fluff

synopsis: y/n and jisungs first valentine's day as a couple

pairings: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (istp)

notes: i made a pinterest! i'll be making mood boards for this collection and other things i write!

wc ~2.3k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:

february 14th, also known as valentine's day where lovers exchange gifts with one another to express their affection. but in korea, valentine's day is when the girls express their feelings for their lover or confess their feelings. however, the latter won't know if their feelings are reciprocated until march 14th, also known as white day, a month later. on this day, the men are expected to exchange gifts of equal extravagance to their lover or clarify their feelings to those who have confessed a month prior. 

you and jisung have been dating for a while. the topics of valentine's day and white day have come up, but those conversations are more focused on how those particular days were celebrated in your different upbringings. you are brought up in a more Westernized household where valentine's is expected to be a day where couples exchange gifts. with jisung's upbringing in a korean household, valentine's day being for the boys and white day for the girls. of course, learning about how holidays work and different cultures is always something interesting, another good seed of knowledge. 

regardless of the wisdom you receive from your boyfriend during your conversations, how you two would celebrate those days was never discussed. would you only celebrate valentine's day and exchange gifts on the 14th of february? or would you be giving him a gift on the 14th of february and he to you on the 14th of march? 

with both cases on hand, if jisung does exchange gifts on the same day, then it's just valentine's day, or he gives his gift to you a month later for the white day. you'd be happy with either outcome you just aren't sure which one you'll have, you're also too nervous to bring the topic up to him and make him feel like he has to give you something, where's the fun in receiving a gift that you had to convince them for? a week before valentine's day, you opt to find something for your boyfriend and see the result the day of instead of asking him about it.

…

todays the day.

your social media accounts are littered with couples posting about each other, whether these are on their feed or to their temporary stories. no matter where you turn on the internet, the sudden influx of couple content makes it clearly undeniable that today is the day, it's valentine's day.

it's not even a particularly special day in your relationship with jisung, it's not a birthday or an anniversary, just an international day to celebrate love, and you're still nervous. regardless of those facts, it's the first valentine's day you're celebrating with jisung since becoming a couple officially; that fact overrides the others. 

trying your best to calm your nerves, you're staring out the window as an attempt to distract yourself; reading the names of stores that pass by, the street signs or pondering on anything that catches your eye that passes by. but every single thing leads you back to jisung.

a cafe passes by and it reminds you of the first time you met, should you have gotten something better to pay homage to that?

then a record store. should you have gotten him his favorite records? 

everything that passes by leads you to overthink your valentine's day gift. wondering if you didn’t do enough for your first valentines day together? what if you give it to him, and when you look into his eyes, he hates it, but he's trying to cover it up by smiling like he loves it? what if he thinks your gift is too cheesy? 

the closer you get to the jyp entertainment building, the more thoughts run rampant in your head. when the driver slows down to a stop, going through the necessary security screening before the car park attendant opens the gate, you feel like your mind is going into overdrive. your thoughts are so scattered that you nearly forget to text him to let him know you're here.

you: we're pulling into the underground lot

your leg bounces anxiously as the car park attendant goes back into the kiosk to open the gates. your phone buzzes.

seungmoo: ok give me a second 

did you mention that jisung doesn't know you're coming? 

with the help of seungmin, you planned to surprise him at work today. seungmin helped with arranging for someone from the company to pick you up from your apartment, something jisung always tries to do when you come visit

to ensure your safety. it's also easier for you to enter the building without too much unwanted attention down in the underground lot. seungmin also helped keep an eye on your boyfriend so he could update you on where to go and surprise him.

seungmoo: jisung's in channie's room do you remember where it is or

you: i remember thank you so much again

seungmoo: yeah yeah you owe me

…

your hands are clammy, and your heart is racing as you stand outside chan's room, the faint sound of music muffled by the door that divides you and your boyfriend. you gulp, taking a deep breath before you slowly raise one hand, knocking on the door hard enough to be heard over the music. 

the music stops, and you hear jisung call, "come in!"

your hand moves to the knob, turning it slowly as you open the door just enough to peek your head inside with a sheepish smile. 

jisung jumps in his seat, he's shocked to see you but it's a good surprise–great even. he expected to see one of the company staff or one of the boys when the door opened. instead jisung was pleasantly surprised to see his beautiful girlfriend on the other side. the sight of you has his heart fluttering, unable to bite back the wide smile that pulls on his lips.

"baby! wh– how…"

your boyfriend is giddy as he rushes up onto his feet and out of the rolling chair he’s seated on. he swings the door open to pull you into the room and into his eager arms before shutting the door behind him; immediately, both of his arms are enveloped around you and swaying your bodies back and forth.

“did you miss me or something?” you giggle at how cuddly jisung is being. he doesn’t say anything but he nods his head vigorously.

with a big smile on his face, jisung pulls away to look at you, "you didn't tell me you were coming today!"

"i wanted to surprise you. are you surprised?"

“very! come sit baby,” jisung guides you with his hand wrapped around your wrist, leading you both to sit on the couch pressed up against the wall. 

you’re seated across each other, knees brushing when jisung reaches over to place the spotify pillow in your lap, covering your thighs as your skirt had ridden up the slightest bit when you sat down. his other hand is still wrapped around your wrist, caressing the skin gently as he notices something in the corner of his eye. jisung had been preoccupied with shock at the fact you came all the way to his work to surprise him; he had just noticed the bag you were holding in your free hand. the sight of jisung’s round, brown eyes locked on the bag has your own eyes blinking quickly, hands getting clammy in nervousness once again. 

"whatcha got there?" jisung gestures to the bag.

blinking quickly again, you shift in your seat and clear your throat awkwardly prompting your boyfriend’s attention to shift from the bag to your face. quietly observing you. you retract your hand from jisung’s hold, both of your hands now on the bag and bringing it up into your lap. 

you glance up at him but don’t meet his gaze. 

“i.. uh...” you stammer, “i got you a valentines day gift…”

jisung’s chocolate brown eyes light up. 

“i-it’s not much but… uh… since it's our first valentines together as a couple, i just wanted to get you something.”

you reach into the bag, still avoiding your boyfriend’s gaze, and your cheeks get progressively warmer as you hand him the first gift.

“i got you some chocolates that i know you like, ones you said you liked before, and then some others i thought you might like.”

jisung feels his cheeks flush, listening to you speak and watching you ruffle through the bag's contents. 

“i also got you some of the snacks you like, i’m not gonna take them all out cos i don’t wanna make a mess but…” your voice trails off as you ramble.

you glance up at jisung for a second, wanting to take a moment to gauge his expression before continuing. from that split-second observation, you denounce that jisung doesn’t seem to hate your gifts and give him the last couple of gifts with a lighter weight on your shoulders. 

you extend your arms towards jisung, a small card in your hands, and this time you exchange a small, meek smile. jisung’s eyes dart between the beige card in your hands and your face, your nervous eyes watching his every move when he reaches out with both hands to retrieve the card.

jisung’s eyes graze over the two words printed on the envelope; mon cœur.

“it's a gift card. just in case the jyp cafe goes under construction again and you need your iced americano fix, elsewhere.”

“i don’t care if the jyp cafe is up and running,” jisung declares, “i met the most beautiful girl there. if you’re there, i’m there.”

his words have you flustered, your next words coming out in a sputter, “y-you’re cheesy. b-but that’s it, i’m sorry that i couldn’t get you more–“

“this is amazing,” jisung is quick to cut you off, “the fact you got me anything–period–is so much more than enough.”

your boyfriend brings one hand up to cup your cheek, leaning forward and tilting your lips up to meet his own in a slow, gentle kiss.

“thank you,” he lands a quick peck on your lips, “but…”

when jisung leans back fully, he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, and the gesture, coupled with the sudden ‘but’ makes your heart drop. 

“but?” you squeak. ‘oh no, he’s going to break it to me that he hates it…’ you think to yourself, bracing for the moment he tells you he indeed hates all the gifts.

“but you being here kinda ruined my surprise,” jisung laughs awkwardly. 

his words have your head cocked and brows knit in confusion. jisung moves your gifts off his lap and onto the couch before he rises to his feet, your eyes cautiously following his movements as he bends over behind the arm of the couch across from you. 

when jisung straightens his posture, your jaw drops in awe at the sight.

with a sheepish smile on his face, your boyfriend shifts awkwardly on his feet as he holds a bouquet of flowers in his hands. you can’t seem to tear your gaze away from the bouquet, a beautiful mix of a variety of red hues, along with the dark greens of the flower stems and leaves. 

“i was gonna come and surprise you after work.” 

jisung walks back over to the couch and sits down, outstretching his arms to bring the bouquet closer to you. slowly, your hands come up, brushing over his own as he transfers the flowers into your hands. 

“i wasn’t a hundred percent sure what flowers to get, i know roses are the go-to option, but i also wanted to get something to go along with them.”

your boyfriend explains as he watches the way you observe the bouquet with eyes sparkling in admiration. 

“one of the stylists has a friend that runs a flower shop, and i had some back and forth with the owner to determine what i wanted to get. when i did some research, red roses are popular on valentines day because it symbolizes passion and love–makes sense because its the day for lovers…” 

jisung’s voice is timid as the four-letter word leaves his lips, words that have yet to be exchanged between you two, and he’s apprehensive about saying them too soon, fearing he may scare you off. 

he clears his throat and continues, “the owner then showed me photos of the red flowers he had, and i chose those ones,” he points to the daisy-like flowers, the flowers are a darker red, bordering on a chocolate brown, “they’re chocolate cosmos, which also symbolize love… and the name has chocolate in it which i thought was cute.”

unbeknownst to you, jisung purposely omits a detail he learned when choosing which flowers he wanted in the bouquet. 

florist: [photo attachments] here are the red flowers we have

jisung scrolls through the photos, scanning the flowers through and through–hoping to find the perfect combination with the red roses. the boy stops at one of the last photos, he finds himself particularly drawn to the darker red of these flowers compared to the previous ones.

jisung: [photo attachment] what are these flowers called?

florist: cosmos; typically, they symbolize order, harmony and balance. in korea they are said to mean happiness, romance and youth the ones pictured are chocolate cosmos, chocolate cosmos in particular, means “i love you more than anyone can”

jisung: i’d like the red roses and chocolate cosmos then! i’ll be sure to give ms. choi the money, and we’ll be in touch again around white day! thank you very much! 

with your eyes closed, you take a whiff of the flower bouquet, your senses invaded with the deeply floral and sweet scent of the roses along with notes of vanilla and chocolate from the cosmos. lowering the bouquet down and away from your nose, you open your eyes with a smile, meeting your boyfriend’s warm gaze. 

you say fondly, “happy valentines day.”

jisung tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before responding, “happy valentines day, my y/n.”

[leclsrc]

hi auds bear!! dunno if you saw charles' insta story of his new sky ad but now begging for a 2k celebration blurb of dad!charles <3

misspelled – cl16

genre: fluff, 2k celebration, girldad!charles

“It’s L-E-S, love.” He points to the piece of paper peppered with doodles. “Go ahead for me.”

The sun is high and sweltering, with noontime March heat, but still Charles is undeterred in his quest to get your daughter to spell his name properly. The evening prior, you’d presented him with a welcome home card signed by her, and addressed to Daddy Charlse—cue the Leclerc dramatics.

He’d pressed about a thousand kisses to her tiny face, thanking her over and over and keeping the card in his bag so they could cook dinner together. But once the pasta was finished and the toothbrush jingle was sang (twice) and he’d stowed her off to bed (three storybooks later), he padded over to your bed and sighed lowly, stopping just shy of the foot of it. Already you’d sensed his incoming anxious complaint.

It comes. “So. Charl-s-e.” 

“She’s four, honey.” You’d shut your book softly, smiling. “She spells her grandmum’s name as Packal.”

“It’s because I’m always out for work, isn’t it?” He climbed into bed beside you, perching his chin on your stomach. “And this is also because Max keeps insisting he babysit, sweetie. I swear, he’s brainwashing my baby girl.”

You laughed; the vibration extended into him and he smiled fondly at your reaction. “Charles, it’s nothing. They’re working on spelling at school, you know—she’s got a few words she gets wrong sometimes, the same ones. But she’s learning.”

“Charl-s-e,” he’d repeated sullenly. “Charl-seh.”

“If it matters that much, why don’t you try teaching her tomorrow?” You swept your hand through his hair, mouth in a half-smile. “Make an afternoon of it.”

He’d taken your advice very seriously—woken up a bit earlier, cooked them both pancakes (and you French toast, as always) and led her into the yard for some daddy-daughter time. “If you’re thirsty, I made lemonade,” you sing-song from the patio door. “You two’ve been at it for a bit.”

There are scrapped pieces of paper with his name misspelled on most of them—there is the occasional success, though you’re guessing Charles wants just one more—and drawings of your family all over them. You already sense the influx of pictures Charles has on his phone, of these drawings and cards he always posts on his Instagram or sends to you.

At your announcement, Julia looks up, green eyes piqued with interest, grip on the red crayon loosening. But her father’s faster, gently coaxing her back into the mini lawn chair that sits on the yard. She nods along his careful instructions, writing slowly, sun filtering through her light brown hair.

You get short moments of reprieve like this during the season. It’s rare for Charles to visit if he’s in the thick of it—most of the time you travel to a different city to see him, Julia going from your hip to his arms in seconds once he spots the two of you. But this moment is irreplaceable: the sunrays on the grass, the lemonade waiting to be drank, the pieces of paper with Mommy and Papa, bunchfuls of grapes on the patio table. 

He tries again. “Come on, love. C-H-A…” 

She bounds into the kitchen five minutes clutching a final paper, which she shows you with a sun-tinged face of pride. CHARLSE, it reads still. You pour her a glass, wait for Charles to finish packing up the rest of the art materials Julia was too excited to do herself; he comes in a bit sweaty from the sun asking to see the card.

You hand him a glass and press a kiss to his cheek. “Still S-E,” you say, both of you reading over the various scribbles.

“I don’t care.” He pauses. “You see this?” He points to the lower part of the page. 

Best Daddy Ever is written on it in wild vivid colors. You beam, love bubbling up in your chest overwhelmingly. He takes it from you and tacks it onto on the fridge, smiling. “She wrote that. I couldn’t have asked for a better card.” 

[goldsbitch]

That one call overseas

part 7 to That one Christmas flight

summary: Now that we don't talk.

warning: pure angst this time, cheesy af, swear words I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

The hole Y/N dug for herself was getting deeper with each day of no contact with Lando. Gone was her ability to contain her emotions within herself. Her friends were getting concerned. Their ever so calm and easy going friend turned into an impulsive, unreliable and even slightly rude menace.

Teresa was the one who kept patience with her in the worst days, as only the best of friends do. When Y/N got kicked out of a bar for the first time in her life for her comments in lousy bad Italian on a random couple in the late hours of their Friday night, Teresa walked her home and screamed Hits Different with her at the top of their lungs to ease the atmosphere. And once they were home, she listened to Y/N rant about how she would never ever call the asshole who does not even bother to text her again. Teresa also stopped her from throwing his hoodie away, knowing that the following morning would hurt just a little more.

When Y/N woke up the following noon, she took a hard look in the mirror. This was getting ridiculous. She swore to herself and all of her roommates that no more alcohol and no more Lando desperation. It's a crush - it'll pass. One day this will be a nice story to tell the kids she'll have with some Antonio, the accountant or Ignacio, the lawyer. Not Lando, the racer - and that was ok.

//

Lando was off to Montreal and things could not be more busy for him. New updates to test, again, as his frustration grew. He only wished to be finally at the top podium, which seemed to always slip in between his hands. His mind, of course, was clouded by the thoughts of Y/N. At first he thought ashamed of himself for not reaching out and appearing like an asshole - but he somewhat expected her to break the silence. He started to second guess every aspect of the time they shared together. Perhaps she did not have as great time as he had, perhaps he acted like an asshole, or perhaps he just was not good enough for those who were not under the F1 charm spell. Not good enough for her. He finally resorted into doing something he tries to avoid as much as possible - looked at the fan pages and comments to boost his ego up. It only led to him feeling more shameful and pathetic than when he started. He kept her necklace and brought it with him. For all it was worth, he had an amazing memory to look back at, no matter how delusional he felt doing that.

The paddock was a great place to be at when searching for a distraction, so he made sure to spend as little time as possible alone and surrounded himself with people. He even walked to the stands often than he usually would, searching fans and giving photos out, smiling a little to extra on all the girls who looked remotely close to Y/N. Who knows, he might pick up someone like that at the end of Montreal ride. Why not. Nobody was stopping him.

He went to the race with all he had, fully prepped and focused. However, red flags, poor strategy choice had him finishing way below the targeted place. To his luck, Oscar was on a roll of luck and finished way better compared to Lando - and of course that everyone compared. Debrief meetings like that drown the soul more than usually.

Influx of all the journalists was overwhelming that day. The interview fatigue hit hard and after few of those, Lando felt that based on the questions he was asked, everyone thought of this race like a massive fail for him. His own answers continually worsened.

"Why do you think this week has ended the way it did?" asked one of the more prominent interviewers.

"Well, you know how it is. Sometimes the week just does not go the way you'd wish, even if last weekend it seemed like we're on a track to something good. One things affects the other and getting out of that rut is challenging."

"Are you talking about the updates, or something different?"

"Yeah, something like that. But as they say, when life gives you lemons, right. Make lemonade...or limoncello for a rainy day, ey?"

"Well, we hope to see the cheerful Lando soon and ideally at a podium too!" Lando knew the interviewer was only doing his job and technically she was not doing anything wrong, but he could not help and for a split second let his face do a look, that was certainly not appropriate for someone who was so used to media and knew he had to be smart around them.

He was in no mood to watch a celebration of Oscar or to get wrapped up in the post race chaos. Once he felt free to leave, he did, putting his phone on don't disturbe mode and went for a walk around the city with his headphones on, to dwelve in some sad tunes and solitude of his own thoughts.

//

Y/N asked Teresa to punch her anytime she looked like she was about to search Lando news. Her roommate refused to do that as it would be a full time job, but did help her set up some tags to block. Saturday was a success, however once Sunday evening and race time rolled in, Y/N knew she was absolutely not ready to try and ignore it. So instead they made a girls evening in about it. The idea was to replace real memories with Lando for race watching and distance him. They were trying... So they sat together with their study books to combine distractions. Y/N was explaining the race rules, avoiding any personal remarks about Lando. To her own disappointment, he was not featured a lot as there was not much really going on for him during the race. But maybe it was for the best. It really felt alienating, seeing his face on the screen, a character in the story of F1, so far removed from the unfiltered smiling face she had burned in her memory. The mood in the apartment was calm, maybe a little mellow. There was a weird calmness in Y/N, as she knew for a fact that he was busy. Knowing that she will definitely not get any text and that he was not ignoring her was soothing for the soul, even if for just few hours. At the end, the girls had way better time than expected, Teresa taking the initiative to comment on all the rest of the drivers and ranking them based on looks and vibes. She became a Leclerc girl all the way in.

"Right, that's my cue to go to the bathroom," Y/N stood up as the post race interviews rolled in. That would be too much at the moment.

"Love the drama vibes you give off. I'll watch it and let you know if there was anything alarming," Teresa assured her.

"Doubt that," was the bitter response she received back.

Once Y/N came back, she returned to her friend sitting with a puzzled look.

"What?!" all the pent up emotions took the stage, all the hard worked stillness gone as if it was a dream.

Teresa sat in silence, looking bluntly at the screen.

"What??!" Y/N repeated impatiently. "Ugh, forget this charade. I'll just watch it." This all felt like she had passed the test, but hadn't learned the lesson at all.

"Yeah, maybe you should. Interesting, his voice is higher that I imagined," Teresa replied as Y/N became to rewind the stream. They sat in silence, as they watched post race Lando in his tiredness, obvious annoyance and visible dark circles under his eyes. A shock went through Y/N at the word limoncello.

"Y/N, it must a coincidence. He's just been to Italy, so the connection was there...means probably nothing," Teresa said quietly as she watched her bewildered friend.

"Limoncello. Name a more Italian drink...What the fuck?? Is he joking right now? What is this?"

"Y/N, he has no idea you're watching, remember?"

"Yeah, I don't care about that. Makes it even worse actually." She replayed his interview once again.

"Ok, that's it - I'm taking this away from you," Teresa ordered after she saw Y/N going for a third round of the interview. "Do you wanna talk about it, talk it through?" So they went on to the kitchen, cooked some pasta while Y/N went on a rant where she let all her thoughts let loose.

//

"Honestly, fuck him. I don't need the mess he brings into my life. I can find great sex on every corner in this city!"

"Yeah, you go girl!"

"You know what, I'm gonna call him!" Y/N turned directions again for 17th time that day.

"Yeah, I kind of thought you would," Teresa sighed tiredly. "And I think you should, the worst thing you might get is a peace of mind...eventually."

"Yeah, I'm gonna do it! Now!"

She dialed his number. The phone rang for the first time. The second and third. With the seventh dial, she hung up. The girls looked at each and Teresa went for a hug.

"He might be busy with some racing stuff?" Teresa said in a tone which suggested that she herself had a hard time believing.

"I'm so stupid," Y/N whispered.

//

Of course he would miss it. Obviously. Because that just what seems to follow him and this girl around. It was deep evening over at her timezone, but still ok for a late night talk. He called back. What was he even planning on saying? He had no idea. When she did not pick up, he called for a second time. She picked up his facetime call and to say his heart skipped a beat would be an understatement. His heart triple jumped. A face appeared in low light. She smiled.

"Hey you," he opened with. The word honey almost slipped his tongue, but he was not sure how it would be received on the other side of the line.

She waved and gestured him to be silent. Lando was bewildered.

"Where are you?" he whispered, trying to unsucesfully figure out from her background. Again, he was met with a shush. Well, this will be real fun, Lando thought, slightly annoyed.

"Wait, you have me in your earbuds...so you need to be silent, not me!" Y/N frowned and nodded. She got up from where she was sitting and started walking.

"Well, since I have some guaranteed no interruption time, let me fill your ears with a story! There once was a beautiful girl, who talked so much and was so obnoxious that the city decided to ban her from speaking. Luckily, she found the most handsome guy in the town to keep her company with his wit, charm and great looks. To reward him for his services she sent him-"

"Ok, you can STOP now," she exclaimed, as she walked down the stairs.

"Where the fuck are you at this hour, young lady. Someone should seriously keep an eye on you!"

"Yeah, well, I sometimes think the same - and then I'm suddenly sitting in some random hotel room hundreds of miles away from where I was supposed to be," she winked at him. "No, I was at the church."

"Oh...you religious? Wait, are the churches still open?"

"Yes, silly. It's Italy, one always is. And no, I'm not religious per say."

"Oh, well then it makes perfect sense that you're hanging out in churches at midnight, yes."

"Yeah, you know. One gets bored."

"Ok, weirdo," Lando laughed.

"No, I like to go there to clear my head. There is some magic in the architecture and in the old walls," she explained. She really did go to get her head clear, to think it out. "Oh, and one day, I'd like to fuck in like a really old building. Not church exactly, but like I dunno. Our university halls are making me super hot sometimes." She had no idea why this was the first thing she'd pick as a topic. God, she felt lame.

"Well, that would be a hard thing to decline, if you're offering."

"Cheeky as ever, are we?"

"Obviously. So, tell me. Whats up? It's nice to see you by the way. I wanted to tell you that before you shushed me down so politely."

"Aw, nice to see you too, man." Lando would prefer to be called differently. "Some school stuff, completely blew my Monday's presentation, so that was fun."

"You should have studied in the weekend, hmm!"

"Yes! I should have," she had a hard time keeping the smiles in, "Anyway, otherwise it's been pretty much a lot of nothing."

"So you called me because you're bored and not because you wanted to talk to me?" He knew he was pushing it. But desperate times... She hesitated and shot him a strange look he could not decipher.

"Did you know we also have leaning tower here in Bologna?" Y/N panned the phone to show him one of the two towers in the city centre. She was walking around with no apparent destination. "Have you been here?"

Lando smiled weakly. There was a strange frustration regarding the distance he felt towards her. Not the physical miles. "Yeah, I've been there once." His Bologna trip was not exactly a great memory. Maybe this call had been a mistake. The last thing he needed now was to feel strange. He showed her the park he had been walking in.

"I'm in Montreal! Have you been?" Y/N also felt some strange vibes coming through this dry conversation

"No, but sounds fun."

"Not really. There has been a lot of pressure at me lately. I'm starting to hate it. Can't say it to anyone, nobody seems to get it." He looked off to Y/N from the start of the phone call. She took few breaths to triple check that she really wanted to break the elephant in the room. It somehow seemed like a "now or never" situation.

"Saw the race today." Lando paused. He suddenly felt the most vulnerable he had ever felt with her. Did she know him from the first moment? Was she lying? He had a hard time gathering out a response. She felt that, so she started blabbering. The cat was out of the bag, so what the hell.

"I broke our rule after we met. Not immediately! But I just...it felt nice meeting you. And I had no idea about racing beforehand. I overheard your name once and I was like "there can't have been two sets of parents naming their child Lando in this century". She looked at his puzzled face. "I'm sorry." Range of emotions floated through Lando, who was particularly sensitive today. It was only a matter of time when she'd find out who he was, he knew the day had to come at some point. But there was a part of him that wanted him to be the one to tell her. To tell his side of the story first, before she could get it elsewhere. He only had to trust her that she wasn't lying from the start. Very few people liked him for him and not "the racer Lando Norris".

But then again, who was he judge? He practically stalked her down - no, not practically, he actually tracked her down. Why did he do that? Because he was wonderstuck too. He liked her. So that meant that she liked him too. Sense of pride took over.

"Don't say sorry. You look too cute doing that," se said feeling braver now and less like a teenager with a crush. "Nah, it's ok. Wanted to spare you of the NDA, but I guess too late now." The more he came to terms with the fact he was not an enigma anymore, the more confident he became. "I mean, I was the one to find you even though you're not exactly famous, so..."

"Yeah!" she said as if she forgot that. "See, bordeline creepy," she laughed, obviously feeling relieved that he hadn't hung up the phone. "But, it's you, so I guess cute?"

"I'd say it's a little problematic on both parts, so we're even, honey."

She laughed. The looks they shared were a little more intimate than their previous looks. A sense of warmth washed over Y/N.

"It's funny. Do you know when I was in Bologna?"

"Ha, I do actually. My friends saw you at a bar."

"Yes...That's not exactly a coincidence. I wanted to "bump" into you accidentally."

She bit her lip down and closed her eyes. Took a deep breath and replied: "Do you know what was also a massive fail?"

He shook his head.

"I was at Imola. I wanted to "bump" into you accidentally."

Silence followed, as the two idiots took the new information in. Butterflies flying all over Bologna and Montreal.

"I think it's time we stopped dancing around and start being clear with each other or we'll start to look really stupid," Lando stated after a moment.

"Agree, Lando."

"Great, Y/N. I want to see you again soon."

"Me too."

They talked for another hour. Chatting lightly around about this and that, heart racing, not pushing more boundaries anymore that night, as the leap felt big enough to hardly swallow for them at the time. Y/N had final exams so the next weekend was a no go for her. But they agreed she'll come over to Spain, as he calendar was clear until the summer. Apart from seeing each other, confidentiality was a big thing for both of them. They barely knew each other, even if it had felt differently every time they talked.

Y/N was unable to relax that night, as the line "I can't wait to kiss you again," which Lando said instead of a goodbye, burned in her mind with the brightest of all flames. Some people were never destined to be friends.

part 8

__________________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1  @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak  @ophcelia @leclerc13 @starmanv @k4r1402 @biitch-with-wifi @drunk-teens-doing-drugs 

[sparklecarehospital]

an anecdote about my recent art

i figured i'd make a post about this, just cuz i know people have probably noticed it. this isn't in response to anything anyone said, i don't know if anyone is actually talking about this or not, it's more just me talking because i feel like sharing this with you guys.

i'm sure you've noticed that suddenly i'm making an influx of main comic art. for a long time, months and months, i had really struggled with being able to fixate on my characters in their natural state as opposed to the various AUs i've been working on.

that's not to say i "abandoned" the main comic, but it's more that i wasn't really drawing it for fun anymore. i still worked on pages, v4 is finished being drawn and v5 is in the works, but it became more of a work-only thing and my personal art almost never focused on the main comic versions of my OCs.

the reasons for this are... complicated. some of it was emotional, some of it was trauma that i'd rather not go into detail about, but for lack of better words i just wasn't as comforted or engaged as i was when drawing AU stuff. cometcare is the most important thing in my life and it always will be, and i guess i just was going through a period where i needed that comfort more than anything. my life has been hard lately for lots of reasons, and they make me feel safe and better.

this also meant i wasn't attached to the main comic as much anymore, as i wasn't drawing it for fun. but i want to change that. i want to be able to re-attach to my OCs the way they started and as they really are because that's what matters most in the grand scheme of things. i'll always have my silly AUs, but i don't want my emotional state or current trauma or horrors i'm experiencing to make me incapable of loving my OCs the way they actually are.

thank you guys for being patient with me as i go through this, i know it's probably made some people sad that i distanced the way i did and i'm really sorry. last night i realized how sad it made me too. i want to make it better. i'm not giving up on the AUs, i'll still make updates and art for them, it's not that, but i'm not going to make it the only thing i ever focus on anymore.

i love you guys. thank you for supporting me and my art and stories, regardless of what it is, it means more than you'll ever know

[hwangism143]

limbo (part 2)

synopsis: you weren't expecting to meet him again but maybe the influx of memories can help you piece what exactly had happened that fateful night five years ago

pairing: non-idol!minho x non-idol!fem reader

genre: angst, exes to lovers, heart break

warning: mentions of eating a drinking. heart break and swearing. just general warnings. pls lmk if i have missed anything!

word count: 3.2k words

a/n: here is part 2 of my baby, i do suggest reading part 1 though. pls leave you comments and do reblog. part 3 coming soon!

part 1 | masterlist | part 3

now (present day).

You were quite proud of yourself for how you handled the situation.

You stood there staring at Minho for a beat longer than you should have. You were taking him in, all of him. How could someone look this way? He looked like God had favorites, as if the most skilled angles had carved him out of the finest marble.

You stood there and stared and broke a little inside. Then, you swiftly turned around, checked out whatever you needed to, and started to walk to your car. After that you sat in your car, scoffing at your luck.

"The universe really is playing a cosmic joke on me, isn't it?" you mused.

And then here you were now, curled up in front of the TV with a streaming bowl of chicken noodle soup, watching rom-coms with happy endings to dull the fact that you didn't have one. You were grateful though; a happy ending was still an ending. You had so much more to write in your story.

Spending five years abroad had changed you. You weren't sure if it was for the better or worse, but it was certainly something. You had made friendships that you cherished and explored things you never had. You attempted to get into the romance side of things, but just never felt like you had met the right person. Part of you chalked it up to your extremely high standards (ah, the curse of being an avid consumer of cheesy media). Another part of you knew that it was Minho's reaction to you leaving.

He was your first love, your first... everything you could say, when it came to romantic relationships. To find out that he had never even loved you in the first place was a devastating revelation. It had been ingrained into your head that you were unlovable, that you were so pitiful that a man had to pretend to love in order to not hurt your feelings.

You did blame Minho because, after all, you were only human. However, you knew that you weren't the easiest to handle five years ago either. Old you was sensitive to nearly everything. You had a tendency to plunge into things without thinking about any of the consequences affecting you or anybody else involved, and that included falling in love with Lee Minho.

Your phone buzzed beside you and you opened it up with a smile on your face.

[1:47 PM]

hyune bun: BITCH YOU'RE HOME WAGHTHDHDJ?!?!

hyune bun: and i had to find out from your ex, the same one who caused you to come to me crying???

you: good fucking afternoon to you too hyune

you: it was supposed to be a surprise, hehe...

you: about the minho thing...

hyune bun: dw, he told me

hyune bun: a surprise bitch stfu you probably forgot about me -_-

you: damn okay drama queen

hyune bun: lix is gonna be so fucking mad at you lmaooo

You were nearly grinning at your phone now, texting one of your closest friends from college. It took you back to the good old days, when you weren't quite an adult nor a child. You and your friends lived in a balance of freedom and restrictions that you longed for. It took you back the the crazy stunts, exhausting days and wild nights, and since your brain had a habit to redirect to Minho, it reminded you of him.

then (seven years ago).

You weren't quite sure how you, Hyunjin and Felix came to be friends. It did make sense in some ways though. You were just a year older than them, and despite being in your second year of college, just as far from 'put together' as possible. You assumed it was the first astronomy class that you had attended since the school had began.

Since it was a fairly new course, both first years and second years were put in the same class. As a science major yourself, you didn't see it as much of a burden. Having dropped biology as an extra course from the year before, you had made the slightly dangerous choice (as you would come to know from an extremely difficult course load) to stick with physics and mathematics.

Space was always a fascination for you. From the stars to the moon, everything just wholly and completely enamored you. You were excited, if anything, for the class to begin. Your sentiments, however, were not widely shared among your classmates. It was common knowledge that a lot of the art majors just took an extra side course related to science to keep their families' mouths shut for a semester or two. The Asian parent stereotypes were very much true in this side of your world.

That was evident when you saw two adorable first years looking for a seat. They looked like they were positively dreading the idea of being in this class. You couldn't blame them. Everything about them screamed 'doesn't do well with numbers'. Literally. The taller boy was wearing a literal shirt that said that exact phrase. The slightly shorter one saw you eyeing them curiously and gave you a wave, causing the taller one to nearly trip over the stairs.

That was the day you had practically adopted Lee Felix and Hwang Hyunjin.

then (six and a half years ago).

"Come on," whined Hyunjin as Felix handed you a coffee, "you promised."

"No," you said firmly as you started walking alongside them, a swarm of girls making their way towards the three of you.

You sighed. Being friends with two of the hottest guys on campus could be very irritating at times. Hyunjin, Felix and the six other boys they shared a house with off campus were the heartthrobs of the university you all attended. You knew they eight of them were close, but the only other person from their group that you had met was the freshman, Jeongin.

You would jokingly call their friend group Stray Kids, due to the amount of times they had had to change housing. Despite it all though, the eight of them refused to live separately, opting to live together instead. Hyunjin and Felix had been very insistent about you coming to a party they were hosting this weekend to meet the rest of them.

Felix said so because he wanted to have his 'favorite people meet each other'. Hyunjin cited the same reason as him, but you knew that Hyunjin just wanted to play cupid and set you up with one of his hyungs. That was another thing they were notorious for: that group always rejected girls. The only one in a stable relationship (or any relationship to be honest), was the oldest, Chan. He was in a two-year relationship with a music major named Eun-bi.

You weren't immune to the comments that would be passed about you as well, having been associated with the school prince and sunshine personified. People would assume that the three of you were in a threesome, that it was an open relationship. Some even assumed that you were adopted siblings (and those some were much more bearable than the others). Often time both girls and guys came up to you asking about their status and their phone numbers. You would just laugh it off. Too bad for them, they would never know what big dorks Hyunjin and Felix were in reality.

Another issue though with being friends with popular people, was being set on an unwanted pedestal yourself. People were wary of you, opting to stay far away, or wanted to take advantage of you. You had very few close friends which, didn't really bother you, but sometimes had a tendency to get to you. Realizing that being friends with people high up in the social ranking meant that you could only be friends with people high in social rankings finally caused you to give in to Hyunjin's incessant whining and Felix's hesitant words of agreement.

"Noona, I love you," said Hyunjin, patting you head.

You rolled your eyes at him and started poking him in the side. He began laughing and shrieking at the same time as Felix grinned and whipped out his phone, not missing the chance to document such an event. You finally stopped, a heap of giggles yourself. Hyunjin mumbled something under his breath along the words of 'always conspiring against me' and the conversation soon shifted to what the three of you would be wearing.

"No offense noona," said Felix gently, "but your fashion sense is shit."

You gave him an Academy Award worthy side eye, although you knew he was right. You were well, to put it nicely, very messy. Your "fashion sense" was usually whatever fell out of your closet first when you opened it.

"Okay, fine," you give in, "what should I wear?"

The boys suddenly and very excitedly begin asking you questions. Monochromatic or colorful? What length of dress would you be comfortable in? Sleeveless or with sleeve? You couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm, content with just living in the moment.

"Fuck," you swore under your breath.

Somehow, brilliant old you, managed to sleep through three, three alarms. Quickly getting off your bed, you checked your phone. You had a couple text, one email from Quora (I'm 15 and pregnant...) and two missed calls from Hyunjin. Shooting him a text off 'I'm getting ready', you checked the time and saw that you still had an hour to get ready.

You let out a puff of breath. I can do this. After a lunchtime consultation with Hyunjin and Felix, you had opted for a white button-up crop top, black mini skirt and leather mini blazer. You put on light makeup because, for the life of you, you could not put on makeup. Sighing sadly after looking at your hideous reflection, you hollered for your roommate Sora.

"What is- oh my god my sweet child what have you done to your face," she said in one breath. Sora was two years younger than you (albeit calling you her sweet child) and was a majoring in fashion studies. She was also invited for the party, rocking straight hair, red lipstick and a silver dress.

She scooted over to you and applied eyeliner onto your eyes, chattering about her day. She was applying lipstick to your lips when she suddenly asked, "Yang Jeongin. He's single, right?"

You looked at her with an almost sisterly expression, "Yeah I think so but... don't use him as a rebound Sora.

Sora rolled her eyes at you. She had broken up with her ex-girlfriend two months ago. They had been together for little over half a year, until they realized that a relationship with barely any communication wasn't really a relationship at all.

"I was just asking, a girl in my class was planning on getting his number today."

The conversation continued as you grabbed a handbag and slipped pepper spray and your phone inside. The two of you stepped outside, deciding that Sora would be tonight's designated driver since you were the last time you both went to a party, which, as Sora loved to remind you, was the first day of school party ('hosted by the faculty of all people!' she would exclaim).

You and Sora were nearing the Stray Kids house when Felix ran over to you and wrapped you in a bear hug. "Damn noona, you look good," he said in excitement.

"C'mon, the boys are really excited to meet you," he exclaimed, "also, hey Sora!"

"Oppa," said Sora lightly tapping him on the shoulder, "I think you're suffocating her."

The three of you make your way inside, just to be hit with loud music, the smell of alcohol and excited shouts. Felix leads the three of you into the room when you finally see the other boys in all their glory. Felix quickly starts pointing at who's who.

You recognize Jeongin, the sweet Public Relations major, standing in the corner of the room looking at what you presumed was the boy's fish. Next to him was the host himself, Bang Chan, laughing at something his gorgeous girlfriend said, looking at her with literal heart eyes.

Then you see Hyunjin, goofing off with Changbin and Jisung. The three of them tried (and failed) at making a large tower with solo cups. Next to them, you see Seungmin, shaking his head as he was recording their antics. Finally, your eyes rest upon him for the first time.

He's wearing a white tee and black jeans, hair damp with water from what must have been a shower. He has an amused smirk on his face as he watches Jisung stuttering at a girl who must have asked him for his number. Letting out a laugh, he politely tells her that Jeongin is very much single and that the person who she was talking to was Jisung and she excitedly runs away.

"Go get your guy," hollers Sora who was near the fish tank, startling an entranced Jeongin.

You walk over to Hyunjin, noting Jisung's open mouth and Minho's curious eyes as you went. You crouch down next to him, snorting at how he was so concentrated in building the castle, that he didn't even notice your heeled boots clacking against the floor.

"I'm here you fucking dork," you huff with a roll of your eyes.

Hyunjin jumps backwards, clutching his collarbone, "You scared the living shit out of me, noona."

You stand up gracefully as you say, "Remind me to buy you a dollar store pearl necklace for your birthday, since you have such a large penchant for imitating extras on the Real Housewives."

At that, both Minho and Seungmin snicker. Hyunjin stands up as well and says, "Oh yeah, guys, this is Y/N noona."

The boys exchange polite waves and salutations. Changbin proceeds to stand up, look at you and then sit back down. "Ah fuck," he laments, "She's taller than me. There goes my chance to shoot my shot."

You break out into a laugh as Minho pads over to you. "Science major, right? Hyunjin and Felix talk a lot about how they're only passing because of you."

You give him a dazzling smile, "Yes to both of those. What about you?"

"Oh, I'm taking culinary classes but majoring in veterinary studies."

The conversation just flows from there, not feeling strained even once. The two of you are sitting on the couch soon, about an arms length of distance between you. You're sitting cross-legged with a pillow on your lap as Minho leans against the armchair of the couch.

Gosh, he's funny, and sweet. He tells you all about his cats as you tell him about your siblings back home. He brings you food (which you make sure to thoroughly check because, hey, you did just meet him) and offers to get you a blanket.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you though," you say in response to that.

The two of you seem lost in your own world, oblivious to the beer pong tournaments and obnoxious couples scattered around you. You're hit with the devastating realization that you could listen to Minho talk about the most mundane topics all day long.

It's just the alcohol. I do not have a crush on somebody I have just met.

Hyunjin catches your eye and makes fake kissing gestures behind you back as you flip him off. Minho catches whiff of the exchange and threatens to stick Hyunjin in the air fryer, eliciting a giggle from you. Felix even comes over to Minho, grumbling about how he wasn't expecting that introducing one of his favorite hyungs to his favorite noona would lead to said noona being stolen by said hyung.

You wish you could continue talking to Minho, but soon, Chan's girlfriend Eun-bi comes over and drags you to the kitchen.

"I have heard so much about you," she says with a smile, sipping a lemonade lazily while sitting on a barstool.

"All good things, I hope?"

"Oh," she throws her head back and lets out a pretty laugh, "You're literally an angel sent from heaven according to Lixie and a fellow hopeless romantic noona according to Hyunjin."

The two of you continued talking, and you found that you ended up liking her a lot. You understood why Chan fell for someone like her. She was everything a person could want in a partner. Hell, even you felt attracted to her.

Damn, what was in that drink I poured for myself?

You couldn't stop thinking about Minho though. You wondered what he was doing. Was he talking to a girl right now like he was talking with you? Was she looking at him as if his face held the key to her heart the way you were looking at him?

Did your interaction mean anything or was it all in you head?

"Oh no," same Eun-bi's voice, "Looks like I have lost you to them as well."

"What?" you ask, arising from your love stricken trance.

"You like one of them," said Eun-bi with a teasing lilt, "Don't worry. It happens to the best of us."

You looked at her, mouth slightly hung open. "Respectfully eonnie, what the actual fuck are you talking about."

She looked at you, mischief in her eyes. "Don't play dumb," she said, a teasing lilt in her voice, "Who is it? Changbin? Mm, no, too short. Hyunjin? Absolutely not, I don't think so?"

Eun-bi continued, "Minho? Maybe..." she looked at you intently, her expression turning from one of fun into one of accusation, "Oh my god. It's Minho, isn't it?"

"What," you scoff uneasily, "Nooo."

Eun-bi raises an eyebrow, obviously eager to continue the conversation, but you quickly interrupt her. "So, how did you and Chan meet?"

At that, a wistful smile etches onto Eun-bi's face. "He's a music production major. I'm a songwriting and vocal major. We had a combined project and even though I wasn't assigned to him, he had a habit to talk to everyone, causing him to talk to me. And the rest is history."

She continued, "He says that the first thing he noticed about me was how my eyebrows would scrunch up. And I noticed how his eyes disappeared when he smiled. I found him attractive long before I talked to him though. Obviously."

Eun-bi says the last sentence with a shrug, almost matter-of-factly. She wasn't wrong though. It was extremely hard to not crush on at least one of them the entire duration that you were in college.

Eun-bi's words led you to foolishly hope. Not for Minho really, but for love in general. It was a dangerous yearning. The yearning to scream from the top of a building, professing your love. The yearning to be held with fragility and to be kissed with intensity. A yearning to be loved, the way poets wove their odes to the stars and the skies. A wanting to be cherished, like a treasured diamond, only reflecting the best that you could offer.

Unbeknown to you, Minho stood in the corner of the room, watching you erupt with laughter, a small smile on his lips and a million similar thoughts in his head.

[euphoricfilter]

if we were to live among the stars:

pairing: carpenter! yoongi x bunny hybrid! reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au || hybrid au || established relationship

summary: a story of the compulsory new christmas bauble

word count: 1.6k

tags/warnings: tooth rotting fluff, they’re kinda just in love it’s sickening, christmas!!!!

notes: this is connected to this universe, however can be read as a standalone <3

navigation where you can find my other work!!

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

there were a few times a year the shop got slightly out of hand. christmas being one of those times.

yoongi would like to hope that with every year that passes, he’d be slightly more prepared for the influx of people that take an interest in his craft. but alas, another year comes around and he’s close to losing his mind with how much work needs to get done before he can rest until new year.

the both of you have slowly worked out a system. christmas is the one time of year yoongi never feels guilty recruiting you as his little helper. and on brand, he likes to indulge in a new costume for you to wear each year around the shop. the elf had been his favorite; naturally so because it was fitting for the occasion.

so many years of christmas costumes tucked away in the storage room. last year he’d convinced you to be a reindeer, not without complaint from you, the little antler headband knocking against your poor little bunny ears. which he pet in apology that night until your fallen asleep on his lap and he’d had to carry you to bed.

this year, it was you who had convinced him to match with you.

you’d wanted to be Ms Claus, which of course meant yoongi would dress as Santa. the beard had come off less than an hour of him working, frustrated huff passing his lips before it’d been dropped onto the slowly growing pile of wood on the floor.

although christmas was simultaneously yoongi’s least favorite holiday (simply because it meant so much more work, and less attention directed at you), he couldn’t help the most gentle smile that would grace his lips when he’d glance over at you every so often. your tongue dipping past soft lips as you concentrate painting each of the small ornaments for him.

always utterly determined to strive for perfection, because the work you produced was a reflection on yoongi’s shop, and you wanted everyone to know he was simply the best at his craft. that christmas wasn’t the only time of year they should bother pottering through the door, or checking what he had on the online store.

“almost done for today, my love” he murmurs, back of his hand wiping the sweat from under the fluff of his santa hat.

you pause, paintbrush hovering over the small wooden christmas tree as you glance up at the clock.

“but it’s only 3” you turn to look at him, eyes flickering over his face.

he hums, “we’re almost done with orders…” yoongi pauses, tongue wetting his bottom lip, “and we haven’t done any of our own christmas shopping yet”

you blink, nodding “yes”

“i sense a but” he narrows his eyes at you

“but… your work is important” you tell him, gently placing the paintbrush on the wooden pallet he’d made you.

“our work” he corrects, “and i know that but… we haven’t gotten each other anything yet. plus, we still need to get out compulsory new baubles for the tree”

you shake your head at him, “i told you i don’t need anything this year”

“but that’s doesn’t mean i don’t want to treat you” he argues

“save your money for something better”

he drops the chisel on the table, clank of it ringing in your ears.

“my love” he takes a step closer to you, crouching down beside your bed of blankets and pillows, “there is no ‘better’ than you”

you sigh, “i thought you were saving up for a new shop” it comes out barely above a whisper.

he falls back so he’s sitting, fingers slipping between your own.

“it can wait”

“but you’ve been talking about it for months”

“and?” his fingers squeeze yours

“and… don’t spend money on me because then you can save up quicker” you shake your head, “i’m more than happy just spending time with you, you know that”

he hums, tugging you forward. his eyebrows crease when your knee almost tips the paint water over your blanket, quick to help you step over it until you’re sat in his lap.

“i know, baby” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “i’m having second thoughts on the new shop”

you pause for a moment, “pardon?”

your eyes are wide as you look up at him, “but yoongi—“

he groans, head tipping back so he can avoid your eyes, “i know, i know. i’ve yapped on about it for months”

“then what changed?”

“you”

you blink at him, “me?”

“yeah, you” it isn’t accusatory, never would be and you doubt it ever will. because yoongi would never be able to bring himself to blame you for anything.

“why me?”

“look at us” he gestures between the both of you, “we’re happy. and we worked so hard for this place, it’s home”

“we can make home in another place” you murmur, “don’t give up your dream because of me”

“it’s just—“ he starts, eyes flickering across your face as he tried to find the right words, “i’ve had enough for that place i was looking at for months… i was going to call the guy who’s selling it but i couldn’t bring myself to do it”

“why?” you whisper, perhaps scared you’d ruin the mellow vulnerability if you spoke too loud.

“because this is us” he motions around the shop, “it would crush me to move us and then hate it, for me to walk into a new shop every single day and the warm feeling in my heart to never be there again” he tells you, “because you wouldn’t be able to nap on the window ledge, and we wouldn’t be able to walk down the street for coffee and your ice cream. years of you building up this—“ he points to your pile of blankets, pillows scattered how you like them, “would all be gone and it wouldn’t be the same”

“if you’re sure” you nod, “but if you change your mind—“

“i won’t” he stops you, “i know this is everything i need”

“and what if you need a bigger space?”

he groans, “i’ll throw away a table, i don’t know, it doesn’t matter. as long as it’s us and this shop then it doesn’t matter i’m happy”

“okay” you swallow, “i didn’t really want to leave anyways”

“why didn’t you tell me?” his fingers skim along the base of your bunny ears.

“because i’m not here to hold you back” you say, “i told you, where ever you go, i’ll be right behind you. because i trust you more than you’ll ever know”

“what if you were unhappy?” he runs a hand over his face.

“a piece of me will always be happy as long as we’re together. wether we stay here forever, or live among the stars with no one but us; i would be happy”

a smile quirks onto your lips as tears glaze over his eyes, the raw sort of love, all consuming, crazed, the kind of love that fills you up and threatens to spill out of every pore, so much contained within one fragile human body squeezing at yoongi’s heart as he looks at you.

his hands wander, over your shoulders and up to hold your cheeks, “okay”

“okay” you parrot, leaning into his touch.

“merry christmas” he leans forward, stealing the words from your tongue as he kisses you, ever so gentle and sweet.

“merry christmas” you whisper against his lips, quick to press a quick kiss before pulling away a little, “i might have already gotten our compulsory new bauble”

“without me?” his smile drops, eye brows furrowing

“we can get another one… but think of it as an early christmas gift”

you slip out of his lap, slinking over to your bag hung up by the door, fingers slipping past the zipper. yoongi can hear the paper bag crinkle between your fingers as you hold it behind your back, quick to sit beside him.

he turns his body to face you, knees knocking against yours.

you look down at the paper bag in your hands, mild hesitance painting your posture, sure to have so many thoughts running through your mind as you hand it over to him, not daring meet his eyes as he holds it.

“i like everything you get me” he reminds you at your clear nervous display.

“i know… but it still scares me” you admit

he lets the paper bag fall into his lap as he tugs your hands to hold his, “i love you”

your head tilts up to look at him, “i love you too but i don’t see—“

he stops you, finger pressed to your lips “i love you which means anything you’re willing to give to me will mean the world”

you frown, “open it then” you murmur

his hands slip from between yours, delicate as they unfold the paper bag.

a laugh bubbles up his throat at the sight of it, pure joy simmering beneath his skin as he holds it up in front of his face: a little wooden heart, a photo of the two of you sat prettily in the cut out.

he doesn’t remember when the photo was taken, but he remembers what you’d told him seconds before the shutter had captured that singular moment in time, locked in stasis forever.

“let’s love each other in every life, okay?”

because he remembers telling you that is the only way he planned to live, big smile on his face as you kiss his cheek.

“i love it” he whispers, eyes glued to the ornament like it were the most precious thing he had ever had the chance to hold, “i love you”

you smile, “i love you… merry christmas yoongi”

he lowers the bauble, “merry christmas, my pretty little love”

[senseichaos]

Howdy howdy! I ADORED "You Can't Run. Hell. You Can't Even Hide" The balance between absolute fear, dizzy hypnotic confusion, and wide eyed admiration that the reader character holds for Vox is immaculate! Also them calling him Mister Vox is just Chef's kiss (it is WAY too hard to find xReader fics or even just fics in general where the honorific is Mister (C/N) and I love every one I find). The clothing change moment was probably my favorite, I'll always be a sucker for the representation of being broken and rebuilt in someone's image combined with the gift of pretty clothes. I keep going back to reread the whole story.

I know it's a oneshot, but since your requests are open, I figured I'd shoot my shot and ask if you would make a part two where Mister Vox just wrecks us, preferably sexually. We did leave off on him finding us trying to run away, do we not deserve to be punished for such an offense after all he's done for us? I also would love to see if/how much Vox has to push us to slowly become happy to be his, if that's something he wants (I could imagine having a rowdy unwilling runaway as his possession would get frustrating after awhile and be terrible for his image). There's honestly so much potential for what could happen next, and even though I could stew in my imagination, I would very much love to be at the mercy of your interpretation of the funky TV man a little longer.

That said, take your time, I know you've gotten a huge influx of Hazbin requests, hell I wouldn't be surprised if someone else already requested something similar to what I requested. I also understand if you can't/don't want to fulfill this request for any reason, that's what makes it a request. No matter what, you're an amazing writer and I hope you have a wonderful day!

💙✨

AAAAAAH!! I love you sm! When I saw this request I knew I had to do it at some point! I'm giving you the name 💙 anon from now on so if you request again I know it's you!

_______

Forever and always

(part 2 to: You can't run. Hell, you can't hide either)

Summary: After that day you attempted to escape from Vox, you had become somewhat accustomed to this new life you are forced to be living. Or you were until Vox gives you your first day off, causing you to find something out that would change how you live forever.

Genre: Smut, Angst, Horror (?)

Warnings: Non-Con, Yandere behavior, Possessive behavior, Sadism, Masochism, Electric shocks, Mind control, Drugging, Love potion, Vox is an asshole, Hurtful language, forced, gilded cage, soul contracts, unprotected sex (DONT), Vox owns reader, dacryphilia, let me know if I missed any!!

(not proof read)

--------

That day you attempted to escape from your gilded cage you wished to escape again, though vox had managed to continue his control. Even when he tugged you back by your electric leash you felt that horrid sinking feeling. This was it. For the rest of eternity as you know it Vox has you. He owns you, your soul, your body, your life; or well, lack thereof. You couldn't run from him no matter what you did, he practically controls the pride ring, keeping you tethered there like a puppy on a leash is simple to him. He has eyes everywhere. You cannot hide anywhere.

Recently Mister Vox has become a lot more... Touchy. Those fleeting touches of his fingers against your back, poking against your chin, pressing into your neck, swiping against your bottom, touching against your bosom. There is an odd burning feeling to it, you don't want to enjoy Mister Vox touching you in such ways, you don't want to enjoy it when he sucks his teeth at you or licks his tongue against his gums. But you do. You can't quench that desire. Especially when he'd moved you into his room from your apartment building. He hadn't made you share a bed with him, thank Lucifer, but he had made you sleep near enough to him that you can tell when he's.. pleasuring himself. Almost as if he wants you to hear him.

You and Mister Vox have never been better, besides from such hurdles. You stay obedient no matter how badly you wish to escape his arms. To cut all of his tight bounds on your body and run away. You'd figure out how, one day, you would.

"Good morning my dear! Did you have a gratifying sleep?" This is how most mornings go, Mister Vox will wake you with a poke if your side and a coffee in hand, already fully dressed and done up. You've always considered yourself a light sleeper, so you never know how he manages to make you a coffee every morning without so much as stirring you awake. You smile, nodding softly as you pry your eyes from his two dimensional face.

"Thank you Mister Vox, uhm.. did you have a good sleep as well?" You ask, taking a sip of the perfectly made coffee. Vox smiles, nodding as he takes a seat on the side of your bed.

"Of course, my dear. So, I know you have been working very hard recently... So I've decided to give you the day off!" Mister Vox declares, outstretching his hands as he gives you a manic smile. A day off? Why? This has to be a test. he's just going to leave you.. alone? For a whole day? This has to be fake, a joke, a flook.

"Oh my dear don't look so surprised! You've been a very good girl recently so I thought you deserved a day off," Mister Vox pauses, looking up at the roof for a second before peering back at you. "Now don't think this means we don't have rules, you are to stay in here for the day. If you want to go shopping I have to accompany you, alright? But I do have an appointment in an hour so it won't be for long,"

"Remember, I have eyes everywhere.."

You laugh awkwardly, shrinking into your own figure.

"I know Mister Vox.. I wouldn't forget," You can't stop that sorrow from entering your voice, but quickly you put on that mask of a smile once again. Mister Vox clasps his hands together, that red dripping from his maw again. "Great! Now I'll see you soon, be a good girl for me, hm?" He says, ruffling your hair atop your head with a condescending gaze.

"Yes Mister Vox," you reply simply, watching as he disappears in Into a blue line of electricity, shooting into the camera.

Fuck. Now what?

You can't remember the last time you were given this type of freedom, even if it wasn't a lot of freedom. Often you were tethered to Vox's side. Everyone in the building knows that you belong to Vox. Everyone outside of the building probably knows this, too.

There's this odd feeling in your stomach, this odd feeling as if you were floating. It happened every time you drank your morning coffee, but you'd always assumed it was just that feeling of awakening from slumber. But today, oh today it is stronger than ever before. It's as if you can feel every nerve in your body be rewired, every single hair on your body stand on end. Every sensation is doubled.

What the fuck was in this coffee? What is this euphoria? What is this yearning.. this yearning for Vox? You suddenly wish he was here, with you, holding you, calling you his good girl.. m

Shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts, you stand from your bed, fixing the large blue shirt you wear (that vox often asks you to wear when you sleep) as you walk to the kitchen.

The kitchen in Mister Vox's room is a large area just off to the side of his desk space, lined with many kitchen appliances and red cabinets. You are determined to figure out what he's putting in your coffee, what's making you feel so emotional. Needy. Awful. You scan the room, finding the coffee machine in the corner of the room with a couple bags next to it. Coffee, sugar, creamer... Nothing suspicious yet, it seems. Crouching down, you look open the cabinets beneath the coffee machine. Looking through the half full area.

Then you saw it, a small vial hidden behind a spare bag of creamer labeled 'Valentino and Velvette: Love potion'.

Terror shoots through you, causing you to drop the vial to the floor. It shatters everywhere, leaving the pink liquid to seep into the tiles below. He's drugging you. All this time, you feeling this want for him, burning at his touch, listening to him as he jerks himself off late at night. You wanting him to do things to you. It's all part of his plan to make you his, completely. To make you want to be his.

Burning tears fall down your cheeks, humoring you as you stand on shaky legs from the tile. What do you do? Now more than ever you want an out, a loophole, a way to take your soul back from his greedy claws. Anxiety, terror, hurt, worry, pain.

You want to prevent yourself from doing anything drastic, you really do. But all you can feel is this pain, this pain as you run on your feet to the balcony door. Trying your hardest to pry open the doors as they rattle loudly, shaking them, pulling them, pushing them. This evil man can't keep you here for any longer. You'd do anything to leave, ruin yourself for him, do something awful, make yourself less attractive to him.

Nausea. Headache. Your knees buckle as an electric blue overtakes your vision. What is this? You can't breathe, Vox. Vox. Help. Your head clouds, words fill your brain and you feel yourself being wrapped up by sharp claws. You can't scream. Help me. Please.

"You really think it's that easy?" Mister Vox.

"I can't believe I trusted you alone, even for a minute. After all I've done for you, as well. After I gave you a life some would dream for. Stupid girl." He sounds mad, horridly mad. Regretful. Throbbing takes over your body as sound waves film your ears. You can feel him lift you into his arms, placing you down onto a soft surface harshly.

"How am I supposed to make you understand this? You're mine,"

Your vision slowly comes back, until all you can see is him as he stares at you from above. His eyes are dark, domineering, needing. He's ready to take. What is he doing? All you can feel is his claw as it travels up your middle, between the valley of your breasts, stopping at the middle of your neck.

"Now, my dear? Are you going to let me teach you a lesson? For being such a brat?" You gasp, feeling his hand as it circles around your neck, effectively taking some air from your lungs. You shake your head, attempting to move your heavy legs from him with wet teary eyes.

"Nonono! Get off, please, get off!" You cry, writhing in his grasp. He sighs, rolling his eyes as he clicks his fingers. Suddenly a pulse of electricity goes through you, causing a shock to blur your eyes and pull a scream from you.

"Every time you try anything I'm shocking you, Dove. Don't try to escape from me, it's not going to work," he grins, laughing at your frightened teary eyes. "I can do whatever I want to you, my dear! I fucking own you!!" He growls, using his hand that isn't around your neck to push your thighs to your chest, revealing your bare pussy from beneath your oversized shirt.

"No please.. I'll do anything..?"

"Oh I'm sorry dear, but this is what I want more than anything right now.. maybe you should have thought of this before making such a racket and alerting everyone in the building, hm?" He says, dragging his clawed finger through your building wetness. He finally takes his hand from your neck, instead using it to keep your thighs in place as he pinches your clit between his sharp claws.

"Ah! Mister Vox.. hurts..!" You wail, wiping your tears from your eyes as he continues to abuse your sensitive bud between his fingers. He chuckles looking up at you as you gasp in pain.

"Hah! Wail all you want, dear, no one can save you." Vox guffaws, finally taking his claws from your clit. Only to plunge them into your aching hole without warning. You moan out, feeling the sharpness of them inside of you as he curls his fingers into your g-spot.

Mister Vox revels in your wails of pain and pleasure, fucking you with his clawed fingers harsh and fast. His claws are surely are scratching you from the Inside, he can tell by the way your hands tremble and clasp over your lips.

You can't help but feel good. This masochism of yours that forces it's way into you. Every scratch of his fingers inside of you just makes you want to cum. You can't give him that satisfaction, you can't let him know that you are enjoying every second of his claws thrusting inside of you. This is awful. You hate it. You hate that you love it.

"Is my little dove enjoying this? Awe.. to scared to admit you fucking love this?" Vox laughs sadistically, giving you an extremely harsh thrust of his fingers into your g-spot. You squeal, vision going white for a moment as his fingers go at this manic speed. You feel your orgasm build, wishing to break through the walls and release. But you can't let it, you won't let him have that. You'll never let him have that feeling knowing he's won.

"If you don't cum I'll fucking ruin you, dove."

You gasp and choke on saliva, clawing on the bedsheets below as he forces you to orgasm. There's no getting out. He knows that you are trying not to cum. And he won't let it happen.

"Yes.. Mister Vox.." you say softly, hole clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. Vox makes sure to drag it out, giving you slow rhythmic thrusts of his fingers to watch your body contract and writhe with pleasure.

"Good dove, listening to commands for me," He says softly, stroking the side of your cheek as he kneels between your legs. You want to pull away, but once again that burning and yearning feeling fills you. That stupid potion had an effect, and you can tell. From the way you feel a dizzy want when he looks at you to the wetness that continues to build between your thighs.

"Now, I'm going to fuck you so hard.." He laughs so himself, smiling crazily as he presses his hand to his face. "I'm gonna fuck you SO FUCKING hard, you won't even remember who I am anymore! How does that sound, my little slut?" Your lower lip wobbles as more tears threaten to fall from your eyes.

"Awful.." you whisper.

Another strong electric shock goes through you, causing you to scream out Mister Vox's name in pain as your body is left shaking and aching.

From the corner of your eye, you see Vox unzipping his fly.

"Wrong answer! Haha! Wrong fucking answer stupid slut," He growls, pressing the tip of his cock to your hole without a care. There something wrong with him, he's acting more crazy than ever before. He's getting off on your fear, getting off on your pain, getting off on knowing you can't do anything but be his.

With a loud slap, Vox sinks his entire length into you. You scream, clutching onto the bedsheets for dear life as he looms over you. He doesn't even give you a moment to let you rest, immediately setting a ruthless pace with his hips into yours. Every thrust causes your vision to go spotty with the pure force he drives his hips with, groaning with every thrust as he stares completely into your face as it scrunches in a pleasurable pain.

"S'too much! M-Mister vox It hurts!" You cry, reaching out to press your hands against his shoulders, clawing into his coat. You don't even care anymore, you want at least a small bit of comfort from these strong unforgiving thrusts. Vox chuckles at this, leaning down closer so he can capture your lips in a (forced) yet passionate kiss.

His long electric blue tongue immediately finds its way into your gob, passionately fornicating it against your own as his thrusts send you into a sort of floaty state. Vox maps the entirety of your mouth, tasting every crevice of you from your lips to the back of your throat. He thrusts almost ravenously like a dog, tip of his cock sometimes painfully pressing against your cervix.

Pulling away, Mister Vox looks Into your eyes, revelling in the way you claw at his back. You whimper and moan loudly, eyes fluttering closed as a tear falls down your cheek. He kisses it away, looking up at your closed eyes with a grin.

"Open your eyes, dove. Look at me while I fuck you." You cry out, opening your eyes for him so you can see him look at you with pleasure.

"Y-yes Mister- Ah! Vox.."

He chuckles, thrusting into you extremely hard. You can see the bulge of his cock in your stomach, poking against your skin in such a way you almost want to touch it.

"I'd fucking breed you if I could, fill your filthy cunt with all my little babies so then you can't even dream of leaving.. but I can imagine," Vox rambles, taking your cheek into his hand so he can look at you longingly- and almost affectionately. If it weren't for the position you're in you'd almost be enjoying this moment.

"Mister Vox!" You cry, back arching as your orgasm begins to prod at your stomach.

"Hm?" He asks, grunting as he thrusts into you.

"Can I cum? Please! Please please please.." You beg, legs quivering wildly. Vox chuckles, giving you an adoring look as you bite your lower lip.

"Awe look at you! Asking Mister Vox to cum and everything.." Vox begins, biting his lip as you sputter on a moan. "Of course you can, dove. Let go so I can fuck my cum into you.."

You scream his name when you cum, digging your nails so hard into his back you're sure his coat has tears in it.

You'd given up. Well and truly. You wouldn't admit it. But you've finally accepted it. You belong to Mister Vox. Forever and always.

Forever and Always.

Vox gives you one last thrust, emptying his cum into you with a moan from his own lips. Eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, Vox drags out his orgasm by serving you a few more small quick thrusts, making sure every last drop is inside of you.

But when he has, he doesn't pull out.

"Mister Vox.. pull out.." you whimper, wiggling your hips against him.

"Haha! As if. I said i'd fuck my cum into you, didn't I? I haven't done that yet.. okay?" He asks, stroking a hand through your hair.

"Yes Mister Vox."

[dayurno]

this is somewhat of a vent post & something i said i would not do again but has been plaguing me enough that i think getting it out might feel better. so. has anydoggy else been. Baffled and upset by nora sakavic’s refusal to speak on how terribly aftg has treated its characters of color? with the author of the series coming back with a new book and starting up on her online activity again, and questions of what she’d change about aftg bubbling up, it’s particularly glaring to me that we are all playing this very long game of pretend where we ignore how badly the non-white cast has been treated & her lack of thoughts on it

and i understand not wanting to bring up nicky and thea because people pick on her for it. i’m not trying to discredit nora sakavic’s terrible history of getting harrassed online by aftg fans. but i think it is very cynical, and it is very juvenile, and most of all very cruel, that she gets to ignore the very real ways the books have set up these characters to be hated. i think it’s obvious why the characters who get the most hate are the only canonical characters of color, and i think we do not get to treat this like a deliberate decision on the fandom’s part when the books have put these same characters in degrading and embarrassing and terrible positions in the first place. aftg is not a story about nice characters with clean pasts, but there is a very specific nastiness to the only characters of color being a brown man who sexually harasses and later assaults the main character, a black woman whose only scene is her lashing out at her love interest after being ignored for the first two books, and the japanese villain who gets maybe two lines of complexity before he goes back to being a terrible person. the white cast, in comparison, while not at all free from flaws, are never shown to commit mindless evil; all of their actions are ultimately justified. the book goes out of its way to give them concession after concession. we know exactly who to side with, because aftg tells us who these people are. does nicky’s assault ever get addressed in the books? does riko’s reasoning to be the way that he is ever gets more than briefly aluded to? is thea reserved even a shred of humanity or grace in her one scene?

anyway. it’s been years of talking about this and the fandom has been constantly hostile to criticism in this regard, and more recently any criticism at all, and it’s Grating to be on the other side of this discussion. it’s exhausting to know that in ten years we do not get even an acknowledgment besides the author saying she will not answer questions about nicky and thea anymore. it’s upsetting and it’s ugly and i wish no one had to talk about this again, but we do because what i thought was common sense has been washed away by a sudden influx of no-nuance adoration for the trilogy. basically i hope we all explode

two hours later edit: you're allowed to reblog this! sorry about the confusion

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Howdy, going through a phase with COD men (König my 6'10 BBG) and they would make such good Yandere husbands, would it be okay to request a Yandere military man who's completely delusional about a hostage he rescued? knife play and being stepped on with a tactical boot would be a bonus <3

btw the way you write dark content scratches such a specific itch and makes me want to wail, the yandere pirate story was *chef Kissssssss*

Honestly, the only thing I know about COD is that I kick ass at zombies lol so this is definitely just an oc

Yandere!Military Man x Hostage!Reader

CW: non-con, mention of death, assault, delusional ideation, dehumanizing language, dead dove

"Esteemed journalist (Reader L/N) has gone missing while covering the.."

The radio was drowned out by the vehicle hitting a rock, earning an aggravated groan from one of the men. Angrily, he slammed his fist on the dash board, as though he could intimidate the radio into working better. A couple of his brothers chuckled while the rookie squirmed nervously in his seat.

"Fucking, shit ass-" Adrian "Clank" Muigg muttered, quietly releasing a stream of curses in a very thick accent towards the machine.

(Most nicknames in the military were neither cool, nor had a badass backstory, most had fairly humorous or demeaning origins; Muigg, fresh out of boot camp, murdered an innocent television set in an attempt to fix it, which changed his name from "Big Bastard" to "Clank".)

The youngest man there prayed he wasn't visibly sweating. "Is everything alright, sir?"

Boston, the bushy browed man at the wheel, laughed with his entire chest. "That radio lady's talking 'bout the love of Clank's life!"

Clank felt the back of his neck heat up, and had to redirect his anger into tapping his foot to prevent himself from whacking Boston.

"I didn't know you had a partner?"

"He don't! HA! It's a one-sided, puppy love!" Boston joyfully mocked his best mate. "He's got that reporter-person's picture 'bove his bed, and has every article they've ever written. It's very sweet!"

Bright blue eyes warned Boston of the danger he was playing with, but Boston payed him no mind, causing more anxiety in the new recruit.

It was true, however, that Clank had a star struck crush on the journalist. They were brave in a way Clank hadn't seen before, the kind of bravery that made an unarmed civilian put their life in danger to expose the world to the horrors of war. This wasn't the first warzone (Reader) had willingly gone into, but it was the first time their mission overlapped with Clank's.

They were covering the battle Clank was involved in.

And it enraged him.

While their bravery is what initially drew him to them and their work, the longer he followed (Reader) the harder it got for him to read about the danger they got into. Weren't they fearful for their own life?? Why didn't they care for themselves as much as he cared for them??

The nearly six foot eight man had fantasized many times about what he would say and do if he got the opportunity to meet (Reader). He had an entire monologue prepared that exemplified his adoration for their work without ousting himself as a borderline obsessive fanboy.

However, that entire speech was forgotten when Clank burst into the room three hostages were being held in after killing the hostiles within the building, and found himself face to face with (Reader) in the flesh.

They stood defiantly, arms outstretched to protect the two other reporters behind them, not even wearing a bullet proof vest, ready to sacrifice themselves to save their coworkers.

Clank lowered his weapon, numbed by the sudden influx of confusing, and conflicting, emotions.

He was hurt, because he finally got to meet (Reader), and they were prepared for him to kill them.

He was enamored, because even with dirt clogging their pores, hair matted with sweat and drying blood, skin bruising and swollen, they were still the single most radiant being he had ever laid eyes upon.

And he was angry. Why wasn't (Reader) cowering like a good little civilian? Didn't they know that they could die? Why didn't they care about their life?

"I'm here to rescue you." Clank's voice was robotic, and unattached. It didn't feel like he was the one saying it, as the three frightened adults relaxed, scrambling over to his side. "Follow me."

He watched his object of affection as they obliviously helped lead the other two hostages down the stairs to the military vehicle. Their right eye was nearly swollen shut, but they were supporting a grown ass man with a slight limp. Clank imagined blowing the man's brains out.

As they made it down to where the group could see Clank's team, (Reader) released their friend and attempted to go back up the stairs. Still experiencing his out of body conundrum, Clank grabbed their arm forcefully, hard enough to earn a yelp from his favorite celebrity.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" He seethed, hissing the question between his clenched teeth to prevent himself from screaming it. The other two greedily ran outside to Boston's embrace, leaving them alone in the building.

"My footage, they kept it upstairs." Professional as always, the diligent champion of justice kept calm despite the feeling as though their arm would snap in Clank's fist.

"That is not important!"

"You don't know what I saw! It is, and I need the evidence, the proof, of what I saw!"

"Clank, where are you?" Boston's voice on Clank's radio distracted him enough for (Reader) to snake out of his grasp, bolting back up into the building.

"Shit-!" He pulled out his walkie as he ran up behind the surprisingly quick journalist. "Everything's good, I'll be down in a few minutes, start taking the others back."

"Uh, no? Excuse me-"

"That's an order."

"Clank-"

"I said; that's an order."

The violently pissed off man holstered his radio as he charged up the stairs three steps at a time.

His precious (Reader) had taken it too far this time.

Even if they didn't care about their own life, he cared. He loved them, adored them, worshipped them, so how fucking dare they continuously put their life in danger like this?

If they were to be wed one day, their life would be his. And that was downright disrespectful.

(Reader) could be heard rifling through cabinets and cupboards through the door of the first room on the floor above the one they were held prisoner on. Clank attempted to cool his rage before entering, wishing to not scare his future spouse again.

Glancing up only briefly, the adult of smaller stature offered a meak smile before going back to searching. "I'm sorry for that.. I don't mean to make your job difficult, but this is really important. We almost died for this footage; hell, LeDoux had his knee cracked open by one of those- his knee must be killing him."

-almost died-

-almost died-

Their words repeating in Clank's eardrums played over the exclamation of (Reader) finding their equipment. (Reader) almost died, for what? Nothing was more important than their life.

"I'm sorry?" Bloodshot eyes stared wide with confusion from under pursed eyebrows.

Without realizing it, Clank had spoken his thoughts out loud. But, perhaps this was for the best. They would have to learn the truth sooner or later. "Nothing is worth your life." He doubled down as he slowly approached (Reader).

It took a lot more energy forcing himself to smile than he wanted. Clank had never been so stressed or angry or conflicted in his entire life.

"That isn't for you to say." Sharp words responded with a huff, thrusting the camera into a duffel bag.

Clank released a humorless laugh. "You are like a small dog, aren't you, my dear?" His muscles were tensing under his uniform, and although (Reader) couldn't see it, they could feel the dangerous shift in his mannerisms. "You do not know of the danger you are in, so you bark loudly."

Although a pit of fear weighed down their stomach, the much weaker of the two hid it well, scoffing, and moving to stroll past Clank, praying that he was bluffing.

A harsh slap to their cheek confirmed that he was being serious, sending the already injured (Reader) to the floor.

Before they could scramble to their feet, a heavy, steel toed boot was placed firmly on their chest, pressing the air out of their lungs.

(Reader) could feel the blood rush to their head as they struggled to breath.

Clawing at Clank's shin and calf didn't move him.

"It is not your fault, that you are such a little dog. But, like all little dogs, you must be trained. Yes?"

Not a single word could be uttered. Black spots bounced around (Reader's) vision.

Clank eased up on the pressure just enough for oxygen to fill his love's deprived lungs. Between coughs and sputters, (Reader) only got out "Stop-" before his heel was digging into their sternum again.

"Tsk tsk tsk.. Now, I don't want to do this, but I have to. For us. So you must obey me, little puppy. Now, what do dogs say?"

(Reader) glared up at him in pain and hatred, sneering as angry tears welled up in their puffy eyes.

"Woof.." The pitiful bark was spat out.

"Ah ah ah." He wagged a finger at them in a chastising fashion. "Be nice, little puppy." His weight increased warningly, squeezing out a pained cry.

".. Woof."

Seeing the person Clank had loved for the past four years under his boot, writhing, flushed in the face, glistening eyes staring up at him and only him.. Clank could feel himself stiffening, and it disturbed him. Why did seeing his beloved cry in pain give him a hard on?

No, it is not because they are crying in pain.

Clank smiled, warping the situation to rationalize his hard cock pressing against his zipper. It was that they were being obedient for him.

Another cry rang out, louder this time, as Clank accidentally put too much weight on (Reader's) ribcage, lost in thought while admiring their pathetic face.

He got off, kneeling down so (Reader) wouldn't think about trying to get up. They got the message, and continued lying, grasping their chest and breathing raggedly.

"Good dog." Clank ran a hand through their hair. "You will listen to what I say, won't you?"

"Ye- ...woof." Their words quivered in shame.

"Good. Now, get on your knees."

(Reader) bit their tongue with how quickly their mouth clamped shut. It was humiliating, but their chest hurt so badly.. They rolled over, propping themselves up onto their hands and knees.

Their resolve to do as Clank said to avoid more pain was immediately forgotten when they felt his large hands tug at their pants.

"What are you doing?" They yelled in fright, whipping their head back to look at him before having their skull smashed into the floor, holding them down.

"Training, remember? For someone known for their intelligence, you sure are a moron. Bark, bitch."

Tears mixed in with snot, as (Reader) snarled "Fuck you!"

Clank removed his hand from their soft hair to firmly grasp their hips with both of his hands, pulling (Reader) onto his dick. "Incorrect."

"No!" (Reader) screamed, feeling Clank's bare member as it entered them painfully all in one thrust without lubrication. As they cried out, a slap to their ass rang out through the nearly empty room.

"What do dogs say?"

"Fuck you!" Another painful slap left a welt that would certainly bruise.

"You want to act like a bitch, putting your life in danger as though it doesn't matter, you're going to be treated like a bitch!" Clank raised his voice, terrifying his victim. "Now, what do dogs say?"

Slap!

"Woof.."

Slap!

"Woof! Woof! Bark!" They barked between viciously sobbing, heaving as he ravaged them from behind, fucking them so hard that their entire body rocked forward dangerously. The only reason why they hadn't fallen face first into the cement flooring was Clank's right hand digging painfully into their pelvis.

Whereas for (Reader) this was a nightmare, joy was already melting away Clank's anger.

"See, this will be better, for both of us. When we get back, you'll quit your job, and I can finally take care of you."

His thrusting became more passionate, and (Reader) could feel his precum as he began to slide in and out more easily. "I've dreamt of this for so long, and now I will finally be yours: whether as your husband or as your owner."

That triggered (Reader's) fight or fight response, realizing what Clank was implying. They attempted to throw themselves forward, to scramble away while he was still inside of them.

A strong arm caught (Reader) easily. Their spine was bent backwards, holding the attempted escapee in a head lock with a knife pressed to their throat as Clank continued stretching out their hole.

Despite their desperate pleas, their new fiance held (Reader) still on his cock as he released inside of them, going drunk on the way their walls felt clenching him as they milked him dry.

Eyes hazy with lust, he kissed their jaw, still keeping the knife held firmly against their neck just in case.

"Good dog."

A/N: I'm sorry it took so long! Thank you so much for your patience, I hope you like it ❤️

[ridreamir]

How about some head cannons for blue berry academy students befriending a new student reader who turns out to be a faller? The reader is from our world and does have at least some memory loss.

And so I might have turned it into a fic and not a list of HCs... lemme know if you want me to rewrite it lol -- it was getting kinda long so this might just be a part one of two if people actually like it. If not I'll just move onto other things :p

With the multi-billion dollar project underway to extend Blueberry Academy's underwater campus, there's been an influx of new students lining up to attend the recently founded institution!

As for you who may or may not have crash-landed in Unova not long ago -you with no credentials- there's no way you could have applied to join the wave of incoming students... had it not been for a string of improbable events that tied you up in some top secret plot.

An unpredicted meteor ripped through the planet's atmosphere in the late hours of night. A burst of unusual green-blue energy had not only been visible to the naked eye, but it set off all the satellite radars in the region. And what stumbled out of the impact zone was the most unlikely part of the story.

... Where... were you? Did you... fall asleep again? Opening your eyes, the cold midnight wilderness flashed alight with an eerie aurora floating close to the ground. The dust was settling, but instead of dispersing into the dirt, it'd been floating up back toward the clear starflecked sky. The surrounding field stood littered with broken shards of... something. They'd been decaying into twinkling flakes light enough to float off the ground — and being that it was pitch black, the only light you had to see was quickly dispersing from the stripped soil and clumps of torn up grass. Once they'd burnt the last of their light, it had left you nothing but one last gentle light source. Registering the mysterious shimmering crystal not far from your face, you sat up, with no proper sense of how you'd got there or what it had been doing on top of you. You must've walked for miles with it in your arms before passing out from exhaustion.

...

You're really asleep again. You tried to cry out, open your eyes. Nothing happened. You tried to feel your fingertips, your breath in and out of your nose. Where is your body? Nothing... happened. The shell forming around you kept out the melded together white silhouettes, but it also kept you in. But a woman burst through the doors, and you couldn't make out here face as she yelled at them to stop. No, all you could make out was the familiar pattern of her earrings. "Can't you see that you can't drill through this?!" She pushed them out of the way, standing between you and their stainless steel tools. "You'll do nothing but hurt the both of them!"

. There's some illegible message displayed on the device you hold in your hands. You look down at it, not remembering what you were doing before.

You can't make out any of the details anymore, but you're unable to look away as you hear the sound effect from pressing the A-button. The symbols warp into familiar letters. You suddenly feel a slightly overshadowing presence behind you. At last, comprehensible text materializes.

"And so you have returned with some pretense of self awareness. Not as you were before, however."

You press the A-button again. "More a shell of what you once were... Something I lament to say likely cannot be reversed." A-button. "Nay, you are not the you that I once knew." You... press it again. "..." It does not speak, so you press it again.

And again.

"I am at a loss as to whether I should mourn a past that has faded into obscurity or feel at peace knowing that you are as ever-changing as the world you left in my charge." You press the button one more time, but the voice seems to hesitate for a moment, thinking of what next to say.

". . . "

"Regardless, I have been awaiting your return for a very long time."

.

.

.

Better to get up and put on your tacky school uniform now than fall back asleep and wait to be dragged out from your boring old dorm room by the scruff.

Being taken as a test subject in the most remote middle-of-the-ocean facility felt more like being held prisoner than enrolling in school. Your homeroom teacher, Ms. Briar, had served as a reminder that the muddy flashes of memories you had of being encased in a living crystal were, in fact, real. She seems to know a lot about the creature you woke up holding, but next to nothing about you. While still mildly annoyed by her poking and prodding, you've warily come to accept that her endless curiosity is not out of cruelty. She is... respectful toward you. Not of your boundaries, but she's fascinated with you in a mild manner that does not immediately endanger your safety. Speaking of, as you sat down and slung your bag over the desk chair, Terapagos came tumbling out, clinking clumsily against the floor. "Aaa-" It cried, stuck on its back. Or, well, not it. He. You quickly scooped him up and set him back on his legs. He's looking up at you, nudging your shoe with his head. His unusually large eyes sparkle as he stares with unmatched innocence, waiting for you to bend over and pick him up. Which you do, knowing the pink haired girl that sits a few rows behind you is vibrating in her seat. "Cute... so cute..." She's mumbling under her breath. Ever since you 'enrolled' she'd done nothing but stare at your companion, which he seemed to find uncomfortable if the pulling at your shoelace wasn't enough to convey that fact. "Alright, little guy, alright. I'm on it." You huff, gently plucking him off the ground with two hands. He cries out in joy and she suddenly clutches her heart, falling backward out of her seat.

...

Nobody here talks to you. Not because they haven't tried, but because every attempt has been met with you either pretending you hadn't heard them or getting up and walking out the classroom. All Briar had to do was take the attendance. They couldn't necessarily threaten you into forced bonding with others. No, your real confinement was having to go into the terrarium and complete menial tasks for the equivalent of money just so you could buy food and school supplies. You didn't even want to be here, you just didn't have anywhere better to go. Apparently they just wanted to protect you for the time being, but there's no way in hell you'd believe that's why they sent you into glorified solitary confinement in the middle of the ocean. Everyone else had permission to come and go whensoever they pleased.

No, your only equals here were your few Pokemon friends. The researchers might've claimed to be keeping your friends in the terrarium for the sake of their health and the preservation of the outside world it mimicked, but you'd never believe in their so called pure intentions. No, this was a pretty little garden for outsiders looking in, and a cage too small for ornate living decorations like you.

Terapagos had been your only one constant since day one, and he was wary of most other people. You trusted his judgement the most. Most other people. The lunch ladies were apparently the saints of the Pokemon world. The food staff are genuinely kind, and Terapagos is a fiend for all types of Pokemon confections you're quickly learning. They've told you that most Pokemon have a taste preference, but not your special little pal, though the poor thing had such a tiny stomach that does not match his monstrous appetite at all.

There's one other person Terapagos had once been intent on pestering in at the cafeteria, but was quickly distracted by another helping of berries and whipped cream.

Compliments to the hardworking Alcremie in the kitchen, they were the only ones who could truly keep his menace at bay... You were endlessly thankful for the distraction, anyway. You wouldn't have known what to do if he'd marched right on up to the four of them chatting amongst themselves over lunch. Red haired dude. Pink haired girl. Scary four eyes. Annoying dragon jerk. Everyone knew who they were. Those were the most problematic trainers in all the Academy.