#a makeshift studio/shop

[wintershades]

In honor of Fjord and Jester’s weird little abode, I wanted to share a fluffy house-shopping scene from Seen Through the Deadlight. :)

This episode of House Hunters Nicodranas does include (✔) a strange, somewhat ramshackle house, (✔) Jester’s unhelpful assistance with Fjord’s casting of Augury, and (✔) cinnamon pastries.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Months ago—before Jester sold her first painting, before Fjord took up his project at the lighthouse, before Marion had the courage to step out alone—they’d gone house-hunting in Nicodranas.

Fjord’s requirements were simple: An ocean view, and a roof that didn’t leak. Unsurprisingly, the Lavorre women were more particular. He and Jester toured place after place, but not one of them captured the tiefling’s heart. And, more than once, they showed up at a home and found that it had already been rented.

“I really didn’t think there could be anything worse than shopping,” Fjord said as they walked back toward the Lavish Chateau. Jester dragged along beside him, her spirits dampened.

“You were the one who said we should get our own place.”

“Yes, but I could live anywhere. All you need is four walls and a roof. You don’t need”—he tried to remember the terms the last landlord had used—“lively neighborhood amenities.”

Jester stuck out her bottom lip. “I need lively neighborhood amenities!” she said as they passed a small side street. “And if I’m going to live someplace, it has to feel like home.”

“See, this is where we—”

“Look!”

She grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. Toward the end of the street, a slender half-elf was attaching an angled fixture to a building—the sort that was used to advertise a place for rent. Before Fjord could speak, Jester was running down the middle of the road, waving her arms at the stranger.

“Hey! Are you showing this place?”

The woman stared at her. “Well—I was going to start—”

“Can we see?” Jester asked, desperation in her voice.

Fjord hurried to catch up. “Sorry! We’ve spent the day running from place to place, and they seem to be going quick. Snowbirds from the Empire coming down to roost, you know?” He smiled at the half-elf, leaning hard into his charm. “We’d be pleased to look, if it’s not a bother?”

She looked at him, and he held her gaze warmly, and the faintest bit of color appeared in her cheeks. “Of course. It hasn’t been fully tidied up yet, but—”

“Woo! Let’s see it!” Jester cheered.

“We’re grateful for your time,” Fjord said.

The woman got into her bag and began to sift through some sets of keys. This gave Fjord the opportunity to back up a few steps, and actually see the place that they were going to tour.

The city of Nicodranas was known for its eclectic architecture, but usually, individual buildings held to a given style. This home absolutely did not. He spotted hints of Zemnian influence in the design of the windows—a decidedly Marquesian flavor in the graceful slopes of the roof—a familiar bright color scheme that was common on the Menagerie Coast—and a stonework pattern that he could swear he’d glimpsed in Tal’Dorei.

A tacked-on tower rose from rooftop, making the house look like it was craning its neck. The whole structure was built into a slope, and to his eyes, without the use or knowledge of a level.

“Um, Jester? Maybe—”

But she was already going inside, and all he could do was follow.

Upon stepping through the doorway, Fjord paused to let his eyes adjust. To his surprise, the front room was cozy and welcoming, if a little on the shabby side. It smelled lightly of dried flowers and hearth smoke.

And just above the door, carved into its thick frame, was an ornate likeness of the Wildmother.

It depicted her statue at the Mother’s Lighthouse, with her hands outstretched toward the viewer and waves spilling out beneath. Fjord blinked, half-convinced he was seeing things—but as they toured the home, he found her influence everywhere.

In the kitchen, there were sheaves of wheat carved into the cabinets. Two crooks framed the stone fireplace in the sitting room. And in a side room, which appeared to have once served as a shop, the stained glass panels above the windows depicted a nautical scene: Ships sailing toward a lovely sunrise, their sails filled by the Wildmother’s gentle breath.

Fjord looked at the scene so long that he was nearly left behind by the others. Upstairs, they found two bedrooms—including one with a fabulous view of the city and the sea—and an intriguing (if somewhat wobbly) spiral staircase that lead to a tiny study in the tower.

As they came back to the ground floor, Jester turned to the half-elf. “Mind if we take a minute to talk?” she asked, gesturing to Fjord. The woman smiled.

“Of course. Why not take a look at the garden while you’re at it?” she said, and she pointed down the hall. As the couple headed in that direction, Jester touched Fjord’s arm.

“I really like this place,” she whispered.

“So do I. But is it your style? . . . It’s the definition of a fixer-upper.”

“I like fixer-uppers.”

She looked at him then—just long enough for him to say: “Wait, what?”—and then pushed open the doors to the garden. It was humble, and overgrown, and perfectly lovely.

“Did you see all of those symbols of the Wildmother? Maybe it’s a sign,” Jester mused. Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. “I know! Do that thing, Fjord. The thing with the little bones!”

“Augury?” he said, and he started to dig through his bag. “You can do it, too, you know.”

“Sure, but I never prepare boring spells like that,” Jester replied. Fjord made a face at her.

“. . . I like Augury.”

Jester patted his arm affectionately. “Exactly. So let’s use it.”

Still looking at her through narrowed eyes, Fjord withdrew a small pouch from his bag. It held a handful of small, intricately-carved bones that Caduceus had sent to him. (Fjord didn’t inquire as to what or who they came from, and didn’t really care to know.)

He set them out on a small table in the center of the garden. Then, he reached out to the Wildmother, doing his best to concentrate as Jester softly chanted “weal or woe, weal or woe” in the background.

He asked: Would this place be a good home to us?

A few moments passed. The bones did nothing.

“Did you do it right?” Jester wondered. Fjord gave her a sour look and opened his mouth to respond, only for his senses to be otherwise occupied. An incredibly delicious scent wafted on the air, and for a moment, it was all he could think about.

“Hey, do you smell . . . .”

Sugar. Butter. Cinnamon.

Instantly, Jester was on high alert. She straightened up and started turning in a slow circle, trying to trace the origin of the smell. Then, when she and Fjord looked back down, they saw that the bones had rearranged themselves into an arrow that pointed toward the garden’s rear fence.

Jester bolted in that direction and tried to peer through the slats, but the boards were fixed too closely together. For his part, Fjord was just tall enough to see over top. He approached, and took a look, and immediately made another face.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he muttered aloud. By this point, Jester was practically dangling from his neck.

“What is it? What do you see? Give me a lift, Fjord! I want to see!”

She gave a little hop then, and she kicked her legs around his waist, making him stagger. Once Fjord righted himself, he braced his hands under her thighs and boosted her up.

“Listen, this is not a sign,” he warned her. “This is only a—”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

A short distance behind them, the half-elf emerged from the home. “I forgot to mention,” she said, “that you’re next door to Delacroix’s. They’re famous for their—”

“Cinnamon rolls,” Jester breathed. She looked to the bakery—to Fjord—to the bakery—back at Fjord—and then to the half-elf. And then she declared: “We’ll take it!”

Fjord looked at her with alarm. “Now, wait a minute. We haven’t even asked—” He turned to the woman. “I’m sorry. What’s the rent?”

She blinked at them. “Oh. Oh, it’s not for rent. It’s for sale.”

The couple turned to one another. To Fjord, this was a serious decision, both in regard to their immediate plans and to their pocketbooks. Was it wise to own a house when they intended to spend so much time away? What sort of money would it take to fix it up?

More than that—it was a commitment. Each decision like this gently knitted their lives closer and closer together. Was she all right with that? Or was this too fast?

Jester tilted her head to one side, her jewelry jingling, and he felt that they understood each another. They looked back at the half-elf.

“We’ll take it,” Jester said again. Fjord nearly dropped her.

“Jester.”

“Weal, Fjord. Weal. The Wildmother has spoken,” she told him. And evidently, he learned, the Wildmother had a sense of humor.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[ragsy]

a little WIP for the evening. another shredded fish person joins the crew

[astraystayyh]

The wedding and the morning after

inspired by that cute twitter trend :,) very soft bang chan fluff. use of wife and husband a lot but they just got married so they get a pass!!!!!

if you guys enjoy reading please leave a reblog or comment it means the world to me <3

Your wedding ceremony with Chan was a simple one. You weren't one for extravagance and neither was he. So you opted for an intimate setting, only inviting your favorite humans in there.

You felt as if everything was more vibrant that day- the colors of the flowers you both hand-picked, the smell of food that wafted through the air, the twinkling lights you had installed because they reminded Chan of your eyes (or so he insisted).

But you knew it had a lot less to do with the decorations, and more with the man you married. Being with Chan was like looking at the world through rose-tinted glasses.

You felt grateful that you were alive because you got to experience being loved by him.

There was music, lots of laughter, and admittedly, tears. You can blame Chan's vows for it. His words rang in your ears throughout the night- how he vowed to love you until his last breath, and long after that.

But he didn't need to make those promises, they were just honorifics. Chan has shown you time and time again that he was in love with you.

You knew by the way he tore down your walls, gently, at your pace, your hand tightly clutched in his. How he deeply cared for you, on your happy days but especially on your saddest.

You and Chan weren't perfect, but you complemented each other like two halves of one heart. You found in him a home, a safe place for you to exist and be loved.

"You are so beautiful", he whispers in your ears while the both of you sway on the dance floor. You could faintly hear the cheers of the boys who were watching you, but you paid no mind to them. All you could focus on was Chan's warm hands on your waist, holding you close.

"So are you", you beam at him. When you looked at Chan, you didn't simply see his beautiful features- his brown eyes, straight nose and plump lips. You saw a warm coffee shop, where you seek refuge on a cold day; you saw a sunset slowly casting down into the sea; you saw a field of tulips stretching into the horizon.

Looking at Chan reminded you of beautiful sceneries, of the smell of earth after the rain, of a hearty soup that fills your insides when you are ill. You saw in him every beautiful feeling you've ever experienced in your life.

"I don't know how I got so lucky", he kisses your forehead gently and you close your eyes, savoring the feel of his lips on your skin.

Chan's forehead kisses held a special place in your heart. You always felt them deep within you- as if he was kissing beyond your skin and into your soul.

"I'm the lucky one", you reply, standing on your tiptoes and pecking his forehead back. Chan blushes at your gesture, eyes crinkling closed like half moons. It made your heart sore, how affected he was by your touch even after four years of dating. You liked to believe you'd be seventy and still a giggling mess around each other.

Chan then twirls you around, your laugh echoing around the venue. He thinks to himself that he'd do anything to make you laugh this way for the rest of your lives.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

"My feet are killing me", you whine to Chan as he parks in front of your apartment. You chose not to rush into your honeymoon, because you wanted to savor the quiet after your wedding, just the two of you. And you couldn't think of a better place to do so than your apartment.

It wasn't a huge one, but it had a makeshift studio for Chan, and a little balcony where you read. You painted the walls blue together and he bought you plants that you water everyday.

It was messy at times, but it was still your home. You knew that no matter what happened throughout the day, you can leave your worries at the door and head inside into each other's safe embrace.

Chan quickly hops to your side of the car, and opens it for you. He takes your heels off, throwing them into the backseat, before scooping you up bridal style.

"I've been dying to do this on our wedding night", he giggles excitedly and you smile, loosely looping your hands around his neck.

"Well now you can, husband."

"Say it again", he smiles as he leads you up to your apartment.

"My husband", you repeat and he quickly leans down to steal a kiss.

Chan opens the door to your apartment, finally placing you on solid ground. He loosens his black tie and you lean against the wall, admiring the view.

"Like what you see?", he teases and you smile mischievously, "This is what I married you for."

"So you are only with me for my looks?", he pouts. You would have thought he looked so adorable if not for him slowly unbuttoning his white shirt.

"I am", you smirk and suddenly, you are thrown over his shoulder. You laugh as he runs towards the bedroom, with you perched on his back.

He then gently places you down on the bed, caging your body with his arms; any hint of playfulness gone from his eyes. His gaze is so intense, you feel a blush creep up your neck. He notices, of course, and he smiles softly at you. "Is my wife getting shy on me?"

"Shut up", you glare playfully at him, and he grins, "Make me."

"You are so cheesy", you giggle as you grab his tie, pulling him down to meet your lips in a feverish kiss.

°°°°°°°°°°°

"Morning, my love", Chan smiles at you, his hand threading through your hair gently.

"Morning, honey", you smile back, stretching slightly.

"Did you sleep well?", he asks, snuggling closer to you.

"Mhm, like a baby."

"I must have tired you yesterday", he smirks and you glare playfully at him, "Cocky much?"

"And you love it."

You're about to reply when your stomach grumbles loudly. "Is my pretty wife hungry?", he teases and you bite his arm in response.

"I'll take that as a yes", he chuckles, pulling you up with him, "Let's go make you breakfast."

"Make who breakfast?" you singsong and he smiles softly at you. "Make my wife breakfast."

°°°°°°°°°°°°

You are clad in Chan's oversized t-shirt and he's only wearing a pair of black shorts. The view of Chan's back muscles is so enticing you'd almost skip breakfast if you weren't so hungry.

When you are both done cooking, you happily dig into the breakfast while recounting the weddings events- how Hyunjin and Minho got so drunk they ended up confessing their love to each other, how Felix cried during your vows, how Seungmin and Jeongin surprised you with a song cover during your first dance. You can't help but sigh contently at how simple yet loving it felt.

You then wash the dishes while Chan dries them- an easy routine you both fell into as soon as he moved in with you.

You've been married to Chan for a day but you've loved him for what feels like forever.

When the kitchen is clean, you high-five him but he doesn't let your hand go. Instead, he intertwines his fingers with yours, bringing you closer to him.

"I love you", he whispers as his thumb slowly caresses your palm.

"I love you more."

"Impossible."

"But-", Chan silences you with his lips on yours, and you both can't help but smile into the kiss.

When he leans away, he bows down slightly, offering you his hand, "May i have this dance?"

You giggle as you curtsy back, "Yes you may."

Chan twirls you around the kitchen and you feel light as air. You then spin him around and you almost lose your balance, but Chan is there to steady you with a gentle grip.

As you catch your breath, you take a moment to look around you. The kitchen is bathed in warm, golden light, and the aroma of freshly made coffee fills the air. You can't help but wonder what you'd look like to an outsider, waltzing in the kitchen with no music on.

But as you gaze up at your husband, you don't find it in you to care. You've come to learn that with Chan, even the silence can sound like the most enchanting melody.

[drenchedfireworks]

The one where Nessian are roommates and the sight of Cassian in sweatpants cripples her.

Unedited.

_______________________________________________________

Nesta didn't know husky, croaky voices did it for her.

But pair that with the largest, most unreal set of muscles on a person's back, thick veins on display as they stretch and the happy trail leading to what she was sure was a happier place, Nesta knew it was a system overload even for her.

Slamming her glass of water down, she startled Cassian who had just walked into the kitchen, stretching and wishing her a good morning.

But it wasn't a good morning.

The slightly husky, deep undertone with which he had delivered it was hinting on thoughts that had no business taking up space in her head. Thoughts of tangled sheets, naked bodies on top of each other, same words but preferably whispered against her ear while the bed rocked-

"You feeling okay?"

There it was again. Goosebumps ran from the bottom of her feet to the tip of her hairline as she shivered.

This was not what she had in mind when she temporarily moved in with her sister.

Mold in her own house had forced her to find other places to stay except Feyre had stepped in and offered the spare room at her old flat to Nesta for as long as she liked.

And forgot to mention that someone else was currently occupying the other bedroom.

Nesta would never forget stepping out of her own room early in the morning and noticing the most attractive man she had ever laid eyes on in her life, doing pull-ups on the makeshift rod in the kitchen entrance. Shirtless. In grey sweatpants.

Nesta had stood speechless until Cassian had noticed her, hopped off the bar and made his way toward her. Wiping his sweaty hands on the sides of his sweatpants, he'd offered her one "You must be Feyre's sister, I'm Cassian"

And because she was allergic to all things civil, Nesta had responded with "Why are you doing pull-ups in my house, Cassian?"

Cassian had laughed, undeterred that she had ignored his hand completely "Because it's not only your house, Nesta"

If Nesta hadn't desperately needed a place to live, she'd have strangled Feyre for putting her next to a man who would give Poseidon a run for his money.

Soon, she'd learned that Cassian was having his studio apartment renovated and had also moved in at the same time on Rhysand's suggestion. Feyre had apologized profusely for the miscommunication and offered to look for other places with her but Nesta was not going to trouble her sister any more than she already had.

"It's only a couple weeks" She'd said.

"Are you sure?" Feyre had asked anyway.

In hindsight, no. She wasn't. Every morning, day after day, she refused to be subjected to her own version of a strip show.

If Cassian wasn't doing pull-ups, he was doing something else that brought to attention all those God-like muscles flexing as he moved about. But Nesta's personal favorite was when he did the quad roll outs.

Oh, the amount of times she'd been making her morning cereal while he loosened his trunk sized thighs and hamstrings on those quad rolls picturing herself lying under him while he stretched.

"I'm fine. Coffee?" She coughed, hoping like hell that she wasn't drooling as she shamelessly ogled the veins on his arms.

"No. And you should stop drinking it too"

Nesta rolled her eyes at that "I will when herbal tea starts giving me the caffeine boost I need"

Cassian smiled at her quip but moved around her to start prepping for breakfast. They weren't the best of friends but they had a routine and like good roommates, they followed it. Cassian would cook breakfast while Nesta got ready and she would do the dishes in return. He vacuumed and took the trash out, she'd do all the grocery shopping and make a list of everything they were running out of. On weekends, if they were both home, Cassian would invite her to go to the gym with him (Nesta refused every time) and Nesta would ask if he wanted to watch a movie together (Cassian had watched more chick flicks than her and he was proud of it).

It was all because she had slowly developed the stupidest crush on her temporary roommate that she was still here, subjecting herself to torture like this. Her house had been mold free for two weeks but she refused to move back in, promising herself it was the last day she stayed but Cassian would do something ridiculous like leave her breakfast covered on the kitchen island on days he had to leave early or just have her favorite flowers in a vase on the center table (neither of them would comment on it) or softly flick her forehead if he caught her pouring herself more coffee and she'd melt on the inside every single time.

In the six weeks she'd been living with him, Cassian had never brought a girl home or even brought up the fact that he was seeing one so why he had never even hinted on asking Nesta out was beyond her. She wasn't above asking him herself, she was just too chicken to actually do it. So here she was, overstaying her welcome in hopes of something happening.

"Shoot. I forgot to take the trash out. When's the recycle day?"

Nesta glanced at the calender "Saturdays. That's today. I'll take it" She put her mug down and moved toward the trashcan the same time Cassian did.

"No, I'll do it" He pushed her hand away and Nesta could've sworn electricity charged between them. Before she could overthink it, her phone ringing snapped her out of her reverie.

"Eris Vanserra?"

Nesta favored delaying picking up the call as she turned to Cassian who had also noticed the caller ID.

"You know him?"

"Yeah. Sleazy bastard. Why is he calling you at 8 in the morning on a Saturday?"

"We're working a case together" With that, she picked up the call "It's 8 in the fucking morning, Vanserra"

Cassian laughed and Nesta smiled, putting the phone on speaker as Eris began talking "Weekends don't pay your bills, Archeron"

Nesta made a face at her phone before responding "As far as I know daddy pays your bills so I don't know what you're whining about"

Cassian shook his head, still smiling as he reached around her and took the trashbag out. Nesta watched him go, distracted by how his hair swished, wondering if the strands were as soft as they looked. So distracted she was, she barely caught the end of what Eris was saying.

"Enough chit-chat. You better have a valid reason for calling me so early in the morning"

"We have a lead"

And Nesta was paying attention.

By the time Cassian returned, Nesta was hunched over the island, listening intently on the phone that was off speaker now as she rapidly made notes in the notepad she kept exclusively for grocery lists.

Half her torso was leaning on the island as she supported the shoulder balancing her phone while she wrote. The arch in her back really brought to attention the curve of her ass and those long, long legs Cassian had dreamt of resting on his shoulders too many times than was appropriate.

Hair flowing down her back, her tiny pajama shorts riding up, Cassian wanted to stop watching but couldn't. Nesta Archeron was the Psyche of Greek Mythology on most days, untouchable in her tower, a beauty that rivaled Aphrodite's. But in the mornings, oh she was a sight to behold.

Face free of makeup, hair tied haphazardly above her head, wearing matching pajama sets and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Cassian had never found a woman attractive like he did Nesta.

But if there was something he liked even more than seeing Nesta ruffled and rolled out of bed in the morning, it was the slight part in her lips, the darkening of her gaze as she'd take him in doing whatever exercise he was when she caught him.

He was aware of the effect he had on her, he just didn't know what to make of it. Most days, Nesta would snap out of it in record time and bark at him to put on a shirt but some days he'd catch her looking on with a gaze so inviting, he almost took her up on the offer.

If only he hadn't promised Feyre that he would make absolutely no moves on her sister, act respectfully at all times and make her feel welcoming, he'd have acted on his baser instincts much faster.

"I'll make a draft that you can proofread but I'm not coming into the office on a Saturday, Eris" Nesta was saying on the phone, straightening as she closed her notepad "Whether I have a social life or not is none of your business"

She was listening to whatever Eris was saying, getting more and more heated by the second before Cassian plucked the phone from behind her.

"Get fucked, Vanserra"

And hung up.

Nesta watched with her mouth slightly agape before she burst out laughing, Cassian joining in.

"Seriously though, Nes. You don't have to verbally spar with him every time, you can just hang up on him, y'know?"

"I know but what if it comes off as me throwing in the towel, waving the white flag, surrendering? I'd rather die"

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, Cassian moved closer, unable to help himself as he unconsciously trapped her between the counter and him "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? Even your surrender may come off as a threat for a secret coup, I assure you no one would ever assume you're waving the white flag"

"Good. Because I'd- what are you doing?!"

"You can tell me your plans to take over the world while you sit there looking pretty" Cassian had already moved on to taking a pan out like he hadn't just tilted her world upside down by casually lifting her and setting her on the counter next to him like she was as weightless as a piece of tissue paper.

"You think I'm pretty?"

"I'm not blind, Nes. You're easily one of the hottest chicks uptown. No wonder Eris Vanserra has the hots for you"

"Eris Vanserra has the hots for me?"

Cassian shrugged, his back to her "You're beautiful and smart. Your beauty is striking cuz you can back it up with intelligence. You also won't take shit lying down and give back twice that you receive. And that mouth of yours..."

"What about it?"

Cassian set the pan on the stove, pausing. He was treading dangerous territory and he should retreat when he could still keep his head above water.

"What about it?" Nesta repeated, sharply enough that Cassian turned to her.

He grinned as he made his way toward her and flicked her nose "You should wash that mouth out with soap. You curse worse than sailors do"

"And?"

He wasn't supposed to secretly enjoy that she knew he had more to say that he was holding back on, that sitting on the countertop she looked like what birthday wishes and dreams were made of.

"And it's the most attractive thing in the fucking world"

Cassian could tell the exact moment her breath caught, the tensing in her shoulders and the way her fingers flexed on the edge of the countertop. He hadn't realized how close he was leaning into her space, the scent of roses and dark chocolate filling his nostrils.

He made a move to step away but Nesta latched her legs around his waist to keep him rooted. Cassian's eyebrows shot up in question as Nesta repeated "And?"

"Fishing for compliments, are we?"

"Cementing in the fact that the guy I have overstayed my welcome for does think I'm pretty. Whether he'll ask me out for a date after this remains unconfirmed"

Brows furrowed, Cassian asked "Overstayed your welcome? What are you talking about, Nes?"

Suddenly, Nesta wasn't sure where her previous bravado had disappeared to. Lowering her gaze, she flexed her fingers "The work in my apartment finished two weeks ago, I'm not sure why I'm still...here"

Her voice had significantly lowered but Cassian's grin was widening every passing second. Nudging her chin up, he implored "Ask me"

"What?"

"Ask me again"

Nesta blinked "And what else, Cassian?"

"And I've been dying to kiss that mouth since you first moved in"

Nesta pulled him in, giving him permission to do exactly that.

_______________________________________

Initially, I was going to write an extended fanfic with spice, but this has been sitting in my drafts for months and I really just wanted to talk about Cassian in grey sweatpants so whoop- here it is.

I also love the idea of them being roommates, so I don't know, maybe I'll write a part two if I feel like it. For now, I'm working on an Elucien fanfic so hopefully, I'll finish that one soon.

[llunapastell-reads]

ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ || ʙ.ᴄ

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 :･ bang chan x afab reader 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘 :･ hurt/comfort | fluffy | smut  𝗪.𝗖 :･ 3.7k 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 :･ profanity | sexually explicit | unprotected piv

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬 :･ Amidst the mess of an neglected office space, your boyfriend's forlorn piano evokes a wave of painful recognition. You wonder how much dust could collect on your shoulders before Chan realizes he's forgotten you too.

✧.* 𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗩𝗜𝗘𝗪 𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗥 𝗕𝗘𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚

An abrupt thud sends a spurt of pain through the crown of your head. It startles you more than anything, breaking your concentration on the drudgery at hand—cleaning out a long-forgotten cabinet nestled in the alcove of your home office. Well, to call it your office isn’t entirely accurate. With all of your boyfriend’s music equipment overtaking the majority of the space, it feels more like a foreign than familiar territory now. You do have your own desk opposite Chan’s makeshift studio setup, right below the room’s largest window so you can draw in the natural lighting. But it’s been a long while since you last picked up a sketch pad.

Hell, it’s been a while since either of you had the time to do anything in this neglected corner of your apartment. 

A mumble of curse words falls under your breath as you soothe where you’re sure a decent bump will form later. A small break feels befitting now that the hoard of art supplies is somewhat organized, and you should probably grab an ice pack for good measure. The task has been looming over your head for too long, which is why this rare lull in your afternoon was dedicated to tidying up the room that has been usurped by clutter and storage.

Work has left you drained of all your free time and willpower, and when you did muster up a speck of vigor, it was usually in the name of chores or other responsibilities. Chan was even worse, all his time being spent practicing as he and the guys geared up for another comeback. His life has always been dominated by his craft—the man wouldn’t have it any other way—but you couldn't help but take note of how your moments together had been reduced to fleeting exchanges between late-night studio sessions and pressing deadlines. 

You blink away the thought and cast bleary eyes over your shoulder. The beams of light that flood in through slatted blinds appear almost tangible in the air, so much so that you’re tempted to try and grasp one in your hand. Instead, you trace their glowing pathways across the room, where molten colors of gold and clementine reflect off the keys of a piano on the opposing wall. Each ivory piece seemingly ignites in the setting sun’s radiance, and a deep sigh alleviates some of the wistful feelings that thrum in your chest at the sight; it was only a few years ago Chan had bought that secondhand piano from a local shop after months of contemplation. 

He somehow always talked himself out of the commitment, too humble to seriously entertain the thought of spending money on himself, especially when there were always bills to pay. Your relationship was fresh then, and even though the secret of mutually bashful affection had only been confessed a few weeks earlier, you were bold and convinced him a bit assertively to think of it as a business expense. The purchase meant aid in refining his skills, to enhance his contributions to his team: the beloved group of friends who looked to him for leadership with nothing but an unwavering confidence that he never quite felt worthy of. That’s what persuaded him to spend the one-and-a-half paychecks it required—the idea of altruism. The recollection of crinkles that formed in the corner of his eyes from unabated joy seems just as vivid as the luminous piano you’re shuffling over to from across the carpet.

Kneeling before it, your body sinks to eye level with the weighted keys. Hesitant fingers hover just above them for a long moment, as if one touch will disturb the magic of its glow and transform it back to an abandoned piece of dusty equipment. You’re not sure what possesses you to purse your lips and blow instead, but it’s a marvel to watch the tiny dust particles suspended in the air become glitter in the sun. A tiny smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth the whole time you tend to the instrument with a delicate touch, taking time to wipe down each crevice and bend. It was pathetically sentimental, but the keys were left for last. It just felt disrespectful to invoke any sound without deliberate intent. Once satisfied, you sit properly on the bench and admire your work.

It tickles to consider the extent of abuse these well-worn keys have endured at the hand of its enthusiast owner. The piano was the very first thing he had unpacked when you moved into this apartment a couple of summers ago, your first place together. Almost instantly it felt like home, even with blank walls and no furniture, aside from numerous stacks of cardboard boxes. The only thing occupying the room was Chan with a pencil tucked behind his ear to notate every tweak made to the piece he was composing. Sometimes, you’d catch him grinning to himself once the right notes fell into place and the room would suddenly appear brighter. His presence transformed any space into a beautiful sanctuary. 

Hands clutch your chest as if it will somehow quell the sharp pang of longing deep within. Have you been so busy and distracted you hadn’t noticed the depth of the void that had stealthily crept into your lives? No, it wasn’t obliviousness. You just didn’t want to hinder him, especially when he was dedicating himself so earnestly to the career he’s built, to the team that needs him. You lied to yourself, said it was fine that you couldn’t remember the last time you ate a proper meal together, or got lost in a late-night conversation that stretched into dawn. It’s only when your head falls against the sternum do you acknowledge the wetness collecting in your waterline. The relegated instrument before you breeds a deeply discomforting feeling of recognition in your stomach.

Maybe you should just stay here, see how much dust collects on your shoulders until he notices. It’s painful to consider if he’d notice at all.

A melody he penned resonates amongst your distraught clamor of thoughts. The recollection is fuzzy, like it’s being filtered through an old phone line. Your hand moves on autopilot until a subtle and delicate sound emerges from the slow press of a key, summoning a wave of calmness to fall over you. Like a hushed secret, the note seems to linger, its tone rich and full, as if time itself has slowed down by its enchantment. With another caress of a key, and then another, every nuanced vibration somehow finds its place in the tranquility of the room bathed in hazy light.

Your rendition wasn’t perfect, but it felt good to get lost in the memories that surface from the music. You picture those tufts of soft curls bobbing along to the rhythm, chiseled features set in fixated concentration before he lost himself in the song. Chan’s passion was palpable, but what mesmerized you most was the graceful arc of his hands that moved with a fluidity that spoke to years of diligent practice. Hands of a god, Jisung would say when you watched them in the studio sometimes.

Your heart does a somersault when your playing is accompanied by the distant sound of a lock unlatching, followed by subdued creaks of floorboards. A stifled chuckle approaches from the doorway and pulls you from the daydream. “Please, don’t stop,” Chan smiles once your eyes meet. “I love this song.”

The man is a vision; dampened strands of hair appear dark against the flush of his skin, a result of what must have been an intense dance practice. A display of dimples almost distracts you from noticing how his shirt clings to the broad expanse of his shoulders. The black fabric does nothing to conceal the swell of biceps when he folds his arms over his chest. As he steps past the threshold of the space, the contours of his profile suddenly shimmer in the light. There’s a hitch in your breath, and your cheeks must appear flush too, but for a totally different reason.

“I don’t remember how this part goes,” you admit and bashfully turn your attention back to the instrument. Your fingers falter as you hit all the wrong keys, pulling huffs of laughter from Chan at the dissonant sounds you’ve produced. 

All your muscles tense once he closes the space between you. Tone arms wrap around your body so Chan can guide your hands to the right keys. His breath tickles the shell of your ear when he leans in over your shoulder, the rhythm calm and in complete contrast to the erratic thumping of your pulse. 

“I’ll show you,” the low octave of his voice incites goosebumps. 

With tender patience, Chan guides your overlapping hands through the first set of notes. He hums along to the melody, harmonizing with the song while your interlaced fingers explore their way across the keys. How you yearned for this, the feeling of his warmth enveloping you—it excited every atom of your being, elicited a kind of vibrating sensation under your skin. You lean back against him and nuzzle the crook of his neck. A deep inhale has you feeling dazed, the mixture of his musk and the scent of smoky vanilla like a potent drug.

“Y/N, you’re not paying attention,” your boyfriend coos.

Just one more inhale before you can respond. The corners of your mouth curl upward as you ask how he can tell.

“You’re making me do all the work,” he tsks with feigned disappointment. 

“I’ll give you a reward for your efforts,” the plush of your bottom lip ghosts over the edge of his jaw, feeling the muscles clench beneath. An open-mouth kiss presses into the bone and you’re unable to resist swiping your tongue along his skin. It tingles when Chan’s muffled groan reverberates against you. It only encourages you to suckle at the spot you’ve claimed to relish in the salty taste.

You’re so focused on him, it doesn’t register that the music has ceased until you feel your hands guided to your chest. With your fingers still intertwined, Chan helps you knead at the flesh over your tank top. You exhale a satisfied sigh when he makes you cup your breast and squeeze. One hand fondles while the other creeps down the expanse of your torso, tantalizingly slow. You have to face forward and focus on the silhouette of your figures just to try and regulate your breathing. 

“Do you know what my favorite instrument to play is?” His voice is velvet in your ear, his mouth hot on the expanse of your skin. A shiver is the only response you can manage. 

Teeth nip at the junction where your shoulder and neck meet. There’s so much unabated hunger behind it, the pleasure of sudden pain pools in your gut. Chan gently pushes your thighs apart and forces your fingers to trail up the skin of your thigh. A high-pitched whine falls past your lips as your hands brush over where you need his touch the most. There’s no point in attempting to hide how much you want that sweet friction on you, and he knows it. Your boyfriend chuckles with your flesh still in between his teeth. 

“It’s you, baby. You make the prettiest sounds,” his words get lost amongst the sound of your labored breaths. Hips reflexively buck forward to meet where hands hover over your clothed mound and you can feel the wetness through the cotton fabric, already so damp from just his teasing. Chan hums with satisfaction from your undoing, then rewards you with soothing licks to the indents left behind from his bite.

He’s all over you but not close enough. Only thoughts of wrapping your legs around his hips and feeling the weight of his tongue in your watering mouth flood your mind, washing away all traces of doubt and insecurity. He must be thinking the same because there isn’t a speck of resistance when you shift your body around and tackle him onto the carpet. The action is impatient, ravenous, and completely welcomed by your boyfriend if his bruising grip on your waist is any indication. Your eyelids slip shut with the connection of lips, finally slotted together after what felt like a stagnant eternity. One eager lick at the seam of your mouth is all the prompting you need to part your lips and allow him entrance. With each brush against your tongue, tiny spurts of electricity pulsate down to your core.

“Y/N… Miss you so much… It hurts,” Chan’s confession comes out like a pained moan in between sloppy kisses. Something lurches in your chest hearing the rasp in his voice. You pull away just enough to discern the furrow in his brow, the desperation behind his widened brown eyes. He felt it too, didn’t he? Amid the long and grueling hours of work, your boyfriend must have agonized in your absence, just as you did in his. This anguish etched across his features is all the sobering confirmation you need and much more than you can stomach. 

Did he genuinely doubt that you missed him too? How utterly unfathomable is that! Yet, It’s not like you’ve done a stellar job expressing your feelings either. Fuck, you’re such a hypocrite, weren’t you just spiraling from the same exact thought? You curse yourself for ever questioning his adoration, and Chan must see the moment guilt flickers in your eyes because his expression turns fearful. How could you be so stupid as to entertain the idea that the most devoted person you know might waver? When he loved, he did so with the entirety of his being, never allowing himself to hold back. His passion was simply too profound to be restrained, especially when it came to the matter of you. 

“I miss you too, Channie,” it takes more strength than expected to keep your voice from trembling. “More than I can even articulate.” 

A long, hard kiss finds its place at the corner of his mouth. You hope the chaste action will convince Chan of the sincerity of your words. The softened gaze and release of a withheld breath trapped in his throat appear to be signs of success, but there are a few other methods you have in mind to truly prove your infatuation with him; lewd fantasies that flash behind your eyelids practically have you purring.  

The back of your hand gently brushes down his face and you feel your eyes crease with adoration for the man underneath you. When your tongue dips back into his mouth, the maneuver is not as rushed as before-–it’s heavier, sensual, and much more calculated. You’re desperate to swallow every one of his whimpers, every response you can solicit with a grind of hips against your boyfriend’s hardened length. Chan threads the hair at the back of your head between his knuckles and pushes your mouths even closer together until he’s literally stealing your breath. 

You disconnect to gasp for air in the crook of his neck. It feels like you’re floating, so lightheaded from it all that your brain lags to process the instant he flips you down onto the carpet. His features go uncharacteristically serious as he sits back on his heels in between your splayed thighs.

 “I need you–right now,”

Chan’s hands reach for the hem of his shirt and time seems to tick by in slow motion. Fabric bunches in his grasp as he lifts it over his head to reveal the sculpted muscles of his torso. Your gulp is audible when he frees himself from the restraints of his joggers, the head of his cock is glazed with arousal which glistens in the setting sun. You can’t seem to shuffle out of shorts fast enough. 

If only you could see the view from above, how drunk in bliss you must appear as Chan peppers wet kisses down your body, discarded clothing littering the floor surrounding your joint forms. Intrinsically, your fingers card through his hair, like the grip on the brunette strands could possibly help you hold on to the bits of composure that are left. His licks at your flesh are slow, messy, and reduce you to a blathering puddle. Whimpers have devolved into tortured whines at this point, but that’s just how he likes it—you can almost feel his crooked smile when he noses past your navel.

“You sound so fucking perfect,” Eyes nearly roll back into your skull in tandem with the flat swipe of his tongue up your entrance. But then Chan leans forward to hover above you again, and a part of you wants to mourn the loss of delicious pressure until his smug grin reminds you the best is yet to come. “And you taste so fucking perfect… I wanna feel how perfect you fit around me.” He teases your folds with the tip of his cock, eyes dancing over your features for signs of discomfort. Any other time you would find the consideration endearing, but you’re fed up with clenching around nothing. 

“C’mon babe, show me how much you missed me,” The command comes out more like a hiss, and that revenant look on his face immediately darkens with lust. Your generous lover doesn’t show any hesitation when he sheaths himself in you, and the sudden fullness punches the air out of your lungs. Your brows pinch together from the stretch, but a wild smile grows on you; It's been so long since you had him like this that you feel insane with want. Nails drag up and down the muscles of his back, motivating a wavelike roll of his hips with every new mark that’s made. He’s exquisite with the plush of his lip tucked between his teeth, obviously impacted by the feel of rubbing against your walls.

Chan arches his back and drops his head down to watch himself disappear into you over and over. His cock feels impossibly deep once you angle your pelvis upwards to chase after his movements, and you know he can feel it hit that spongy spot that will have you seeing stars soon. It’s invigorating, this feeling of fucking yourself on his thickness, but it must overwhelm him because it’s all too soon that you’re forcefully pinned down at the waist and rendered immobile. 

“So eager,” he chides with a smirk playing at his eyes. “Don’t you want me to last?” 

You’ll blame the slip of this filthy admission on being shamefully cock drunk when you replay it in your head tomorrow. No time to be shy now. “I want you fuck me ‘til I black out full of your cum, Bang Chan.”

You can practically see the static whirl in his head until a switch flips. The carnal desire that remained locked away in the name of chivalry is finally unleashed, and exhilaration sets your body ablaze. He says nothing, just stares at you with blown-out pupils as a swift tug brings you flesh against him. The strength of his grip remains unyielding, even as he's buried in you to the hilt, and a silent prayer is made for there to be visible bruises left from where Chan’s fingers dig into your hips. He savors the snug sensation for a moment before rocking his body forward with a gratifying intensity. As each thrust jolts your body further up the floor, the rub of the carpet on your back burns but in the most delectable way. Ceaseless expletives and groans pour out of him with every squelch of your cunt, but in contrast with the pornographic sounds, something much more tender and romantic blooms in the center of your chest. Soon it’s clawing its way up your throat, pricking at your eyes until a cascade of tears dampens the hair around your ears. 

“So in love… with you.. with you, with y-you,” your mantra is like fuel to the hot coil that threatens to snap in your stomach. It’s clear you won’t last much longer, but neither will Chan, judging by how fervent and unharmonious his ruts into you have become. As the haze in your vision dissipates, time becomes elusive, suspended between eternity and a fleeting moment all at once. The emerging image you find above finally propels you over the precipice; It’s your lover, his sweat-slicked skin, the keen edges of his beautiful face, illuminated in a light born between waning sunset and encroaching dusk that splinters your heart open. You’re certain this room exists outside of the laws of space and time. That’s how it feels, anyway. 

“Clenching s-so tight, baby,” Chan pants onto your lips, trailing right behind you with his eyes sealed in a rapture of pleasure. A few more languid thrusts has him humming with blissful satisfaction.

Within the next minute or century, you coax his body on top of yours with idle caresses smoothed into his lower back. He obliges, resting his cheek between your breasts as he tries to steady his breath to a calmer rhythm. Fingers trace taut muscles before finding their way into the mess of curls at the back of his head, and Chan purrs at the gentle massage you give him, the sound reverberating down into your ribcage. He’s a toasty blanket on you, warmed by a radiant kind of love.

Your mind floats somewhere so giddy and cozy that it requires actual effort to rouse the muscles in your mouth to form words. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I’ve been feeling lately. I missed you terribly, but didn’t want to guilt you into leaving work. I know that’s where you should be.”

The abrupt loss of heat against your skin jolts you back into reality once Chan raises on his elbows to pin you with a stare. “Where I should be, the only place I ever want to be–is with you. It’s where I’m the happiest. It’s where I belong, yeah?” His voice is firm but there is no actual hardness swimming in his brown eyes, only a will for his heartfelt look to convey the honesty in his words. The smile you return is a knowing one, one full of endearment and serenity.

“Now then,” Chan gruffs as he plops himself back down against you. “What do you want to do tonight?”

Delicate fingers weave through his hair once more as you rest your head on the carpet. Your gaze fixates to the ceiling above, where shadows and soft light sway together in a subtle dance. You can't think of anything you would rather do than this, with him.

ᴀ/ɴ :･ hehe haha been workin on this for a minute! please let me know if you enjoyed it. this fic is v much a self indulgent story born from the lyrics "there is nothin like doin nothin with you" from 'Nothing' by Bruno Major.

[joels6string]

Cup o'Joel

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You've never had the heart to tell Joel that you absolutely despise the coffee he loves sharing with you so damn much. Dedicated to @dameronscopilot

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.5k (why?)

Content: Joel Miller fluff, a man trying his very best, Ellie at her finest, Joel having the happy life he deserves

If there was one thing you hated, it was coffee. If there was one thing you loved, it was Joel. Who knew those two things could form such a grueling dichotomy.

Joel loved his coffee. Name the price and he’d pay it. Half a bag of beans here, half there, he’d take whatever he could get his hands on. He’d traded a fucking shotgun for two cups worth a few weeks back. And that’s where your immeasurable guilt always came into play.

You hated the stuff. Just the smell of it made your stomach lurch. You just…didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Joel loved you, you knew that, but he was more of a show not tell kind of person. And one way that he proved you were just as important to him as he was to you was by the little things he did. Sometimes it was adding an extra pot of hot water to the little makeshift shower so you could spend a little more time beneath its relaxing heat. Other times, he’d finish off your farming shift so you could go tend to the flowers in the yard, your preferred form of gardening. But his biggest one was always sharing his beloved, coveted drink.

Refusing wasn’t an option, you’d tried. You’d masked it as an effort to let him have this one good thing to himself, something all for him to enjoy. You should have known that was only going to make him want to share it even more. 

“What’s mine is yours,” he’d said, sliding the mug he’d poured just for you across the table as he walked off to his studio, pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of your head.

Shame weighed your feet as you poured it down the drain thirty minutes later, your staring contest with the little brown tawny owl on the mug proving completely fruitless as you’d mentally tried to pep talk yourself into drinking it for his sake. 

The next time he’d gotten his hands on some, he’d made it first thing on a cold winter morning. You’d been on the couch with a new book you’d found at the swap shop in hand, a thick wool blanket laying in your lap with a fire roaring and when that cursed steaming brown bean water was offered to you by a large, weathered hand, it took all of your self-control to not sigh in disdain. It had been easy the first time, it wasn’t then as Joel joined you beneath the covering with a book of his own.

“This one’s better than the last,” he’d commented after a long sip, “S’a little richer. Real smooth. Glad I took all they had.”

“Was this…” you’d begun, “Was this all they had?”

“Enough for another pot or two left.”

Well, that had been a relief. Until the next sentence left his lips.

“Gonna try it?” 

He’d been watching like a hawk, a happy sparkle in his eye that you could not refuse even under the direst of circumstances. He was so proud of himself, the corner of his mouth ticked up into a smile as you brought the mug to your lips, hoping if you held your breath it would help muffle the taste. It didn’t. Stifling the disgust on your face had been your hardest kill yet, the bitter liquid sitting on your tongue as you faked a swallow and smiled up at him, nodding, spitting it quietly back into the cup as soon as his eyes turned away. Ellie had stormed in moments later fresh off an early morning patrol, Joel getting up to fix her breakfast which allotted you the perfect amount of time for the fire to finish sputtering after being doused.

“Oh, you got coffee!” you’d heard Ellie exclaim from the kitchen, “Can I have some?”

Thus began a beautiful partnership. What you didn’t want, Ellie was keen to slurp down greedily, the secret from Joel making it all the more fun for both of you. 

“He got more,” Ellie panted as the front door swung wide open, sweat pouring down her face after her sprint back to the house for the forewarning, “He’s fucking excited, too. He’s brewing that shit tonight.”

“Fuck,” you sighed, slamming your book shut, “Looks like I’m cooking us all dinner. Any requests?”

“Yeah, actually. Whatever you made last week, with the carrots and the green stuff. That was amazing. I’ll be back at four, make him hold off til then.”

That required a trip to the greenhouses, a favor needing called in to get another bushel of carrots so soon after your first, but the Miller name held weight and by the time you got home Joel was already showered and changed, his sack of precious brown kernels on the counter waiting to infiltrate your nose as you prepped the evening meal.

“There you are,” he greeted, a slightly frantic edge to his voice, “Leave a damn note next time.”

“Where do you think I’m gonna go?” you teased, pressing up onto your toes to gently kiss his scowl away, “Ellie’s coming for dinner.”

“Guess I should brew this up now.”

“No! Not yet, let me cook first, free my hands up.”

By some miracle you made him wait until 3:45, your eyes flitting from him to the visible door of Ellie’s place in your backyard. She better not be late. The pep in his step was undeniable, it had been months since he’d gotten his hand on any and you could see the excitement filling the fine lines around his eyes. He was so precise, measuring out the water with such care you’d be scoffing if the sight didn’t bring you so much damn joy. 

“Hey guys,” Ellie greeted, right on time, “Smells good. Got a new movie for us.”

“Oh yeah?” Joel replied, gaze still transfixed as he prepped his urn, “Which one?”

“It’s called…Back to the Future.”

“Yeah…that’s a good one.”

Steady hands passed you a mug, Ellie’s eyes widening as she breathed in the scent of her reward nestled between you both on the couch, Joel chuckling softly at the antic of Doc and Marty McFly. His arm was resting atop the couch, outstretched towards you both as his palms swallowed his own ceramic cup practically whole. You were more interested in watching him than the movie playing on the big TV in front of you, you couldn’t help it whenever it looked at peace. It was so rare, so precious it made your chest swell. You didn’t even notice the small smile Ellie was looking at you with, her eyes filled with gratitude and respect. A rare thing to earn.

“Hey,” she cut in softly, shaking you from your trance, “We should check on dinner.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, tapping Joel’s hand where it rested, “We’ll be right back.”

“I’ll pause it,” he insisted, “s’a good part comin’ up.”

Ellie was practically bouncing with glee when you passed her the still-warm liquid, taking a long gluttonous sip as you checked the food still roasting in the oven. The house was beginning to fill with the aroma, thankfully canceling out the other scent that had occupied the space. 

“I can’t believe he hasn’t figured it out yet,” Ellie laughed from where she leaned against the counter, another loud slurp echoing off the walls.

“Figured what out?” Joel asked, your stomach dropping to the floor as you stood up straight, eyes going wide, “Why are you drinkin’ that?”

Busted.

“Sometimes…sometimes we…share,” Ellie stammered, “Since you never give me any.”

“Well, you never ask… ‘cept that one time. And I gave you some,” he defended, your face growing hot, his face contorting in what looked like betrayal.

“I hate it,” you finally spit out.

“You what?”

“I hate it…so much. I’ve never liked it. Not a day in my life.”

Through all the things Joel Miller had seen in his life, this seemed to be the most baffling. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his mouth hanging open as if he was stunned speechless, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to sort through whatever thoughts were traveling through his head. You wanted to laugh, but again that contrition you felt toward having wasted Joel’s most precious resource was surging.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he finally inquired, “Ain’t I supposed to know these things?”

“You were always so happy…” you began to ramble, “I didn’t want to take that away from you. You get that stupid fucking smile–”

“I do not smile stupid…”

“No. You don’t. It’s…”

“Okay!” Ellie cut in, tossing back the last of her drink before setting her cup loudly in the sink, “You guys are getting gross. I’ll leave you to it. I’m hitting play to drown you out.”

Both you and Joel laughed as she brushed by, Joel closing the distance between you and pulling you into his chest, that familiar leathery, wooded smell filling your nose and relaxing your tension.

“What do you like then?” he petitioned, lips pressed to your hair as he began to sway gently from side to side.

“I was always kind of a tea girl…” you confessed.

“That’s disgusting. You’re gonna make me have tea, in my house?”

His laugh rumbled against your ear, mingling with your own in what little crevices remained between you, your arms locked tightly around his middle. 

“I’ll find you some tea,” he conceded in a husky whisper, “but I ain’t drinkin’ it.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

[magicfootballstuff]

Strictly Unprofessional - part 5 (alexia putellas x reader)

Summary: You’ve just landed your dream job as a photographer at FC Barcelona Femení. The only problem? You hooked up with the captain five years ago and haven’t seen her since.

Part 5/9

Read other parts here.

———

As Christmas approaches, you and Alexia continue to get closer. You’re careful about getting too close and try to keep a professional boundary in place, especially conscious about how others might perceive your closeness since Mapi accused you of flirting with each other, but you can’t help the way that you’re drawn to Alexia’s side.

You often wonder if your fondness is reciprocated.

You sit next to Alexia more often than not while travelling to away games and when you ask Alexia if she wouldn’t rather sit with her teammates, she answers with a shrug.

“I spend all day with those idiots,” Alexia says, her words punctuated with a shriek at the back of the bus, followed by raucous laughter that just highlights Alexia’s description of her teammates. “Anyway, I like spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you too,” you reply, the words rolling off your tongue too easily.

You didn’t really think anything of your growing closeness with Alexia until Mapi’s question about flirting. In fact, you thought you’d done a pretty good job of moving past whatever happened five years ago by building a new relationship with Alexia that’s firmly in the friendzone. 

But now that Mapi has planted the idea in your head, you can’t stop thinking about it. There’s nothing overtly flirtatious in the conversations you have with Alexia, but you overthink every interaction, every smile, every touch. Is Alexia just being friendly and Mapi’s winding you up, or is there actually still something there?

———

In December, Barcelona launches a new line of winter leisurewear - hoodies, sweatpants, Christmas jumpers, and more - and it’s your job to get some photos for the club shop and social media to advertise the range.

What that means is a Tuesday afternoon in one of the media rooms with Mapi, Jana and of course Alexia. 

The room has been set up for the shoot with a makeshift studio in one half of the room, as well as tables with piles of clothes for the three players to model. A privacy screen has been set up in one corner for them to change behind but they don’t really use it, used to changing in front of each other every day anyway. You make an effort not to stare as Alexia strips unashamedly out of her clothes and into the first outfit, but so what if your eyes get caught on Alexia’s tattoos? You don’t remember exactly which ones were there five years ago but you’re certain there’s a couple of new additions to the tanned canvas of her back.

“Hey,” Mapi says, nudging you back to attention with her elbow. “Which clothes do you want me in first?”

“Start with the navy. Then we’ll move onto the grey.”

The shoot goes smoothly. The three players are easy to work with, just the right balance between professionalism and playful banter that means the shoot is easy but also entertaining. 

You get most of the pictures you need in the studio, before each of the players dresses in a different set of clothes and you head outside with a couple of footballs to an empty training pitch to take a few more shots out there. 

Once that part of the shoot is complete, everyone is keen to get back inside quickly to get out of the cold. Alexia and Jana walk ahead, Alexia with her arm wrapped around Jana’s shoulder, and it’s not jealousy that you feel but more of a realisation that Alexia is probably just touchy-feely with all her friends. You’d be stupid to think you were special.

“So, you and Alexia, huh?” Mapi asks, falling into step beside you as she helps carry your equipment back inside.

“What? She told you?”

“Told me what?”

Your stomach drops as you realise that in your distracted state, you’ve possibly just let slip something that you shouldn’t have done.

“Shit.”

“Told me what?” Mapi asks again, her eyes widening in delight as she realises that she’s probably just uncovered more gossip that she intended to. “Have you two…? Oh, this is juicy!”

“Wait, what were you asking me about Alexia?” you ask confusedly, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“I was gonna ask about the fact you’ve been staring at her with heart eyes all morning, but clearly I’ve missed something bigger than that.”

“It’s nothing,” you say, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole to save you the ordeal of having this conversation.

“Are you dating?” Mapi presses you. “Or just sleeping together?”

“Neither,” you answer honestly. “Look, I agreed with Alexia that we wouldn’t say anything to anybody else.”

“Okay, sorry,” Mapi apologises, though you can tell from her body language that she’s desperate to know the gossip. “I won’t push.”

The problem is that you’re also desperate to talk about it with somebody and you’ve basically already accidentally confessed to Mapi, which is why you last about five seconds of silence before spilling the rest.

“I met her five years ago in Ibiza,” you admit. “I had no idea who she was and we slept together once. She didn’t even remember me when I first started working here. But we’ve talked about it now and it’s cool.”

You wait for Mapi’s laughter, or her judgement, or some other overstated reaction to your current misfortune, but her actual response is much more measured than you expect.

“Okay, but my original point about the heart eyes stands,” she says. “You wouldn’t be looking at her like that if it was cool.”

“I’m not the first poor idiot to fall for Alexia and I won’t be the last.”

“You’re falling for her?” Mapi asks, her eyebrows shooting up.

“I don’t know,” you shrug defeatedly. “Maybe not. Maybe I just think I am.”

“You know what this means?”

“I’m a pathetic idiot?”

Mapi doesn’t let you embrace your self pity, instead she nudges you with her elbow and grins like this is something to celebrate.

“No, it means you deserve some congratulations,” she tells you. “You know, some people say you’re not an official part of this football club until you’re caught up in some lesbian drama. You managed it before your first day. That might be a new record.”

“That means a lot coming from the queen of complicated relationships with coworkers,” you joke back.

“It’s why you always should listen to me,” Mapi says, with a matter-of-fact shrug. “I’m an expert. And if you need me to put in a good word with Alexia, or talk some sense into her, just let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

———

The revelation that you might be catching feelings for Alexia is a weird one. It’s not particularly news, but until the conversation with Mapi you hadn’t wanted to admit that your affection for Alexia was anything more than coworkers-turned-friends. 

Talking to Mapi has both helped and made things more confusing. It’s definitely a relief to have talked about it and you didn’t realise how much bottling up a five year old secret had been bothering you. But now it’s out in the open, even if it’s just between you and Mapi, makes it harder to ignore. You thought you were happy just coasting along as Alexia’s friend, but now you feel like you need to make a decision - either draw a line under what happened and move forward without any flirtiness, or acknowledge your feelings and try to make a move.

If this was somebody you knew from anywhere else, you’d shoot your shot and accept the possible rejection. 

But Alexia isn’t just some random girl you can afford to mess things up with. And there’s more at stake than just your love life. It’s not like you can avoid her if she turns you down.

You’ve not explicitly talked about your personal lives since that first conversation where Alexia let you know that she remembered where you met before. For all you know, she might be dating somebody else. You’ve heard mentions of an ex who used to play for the team, but it sounds like that’s definitely in the past and while you haven’t heard that she’s seeing somebody else, you’re sure that somebody with Alexia’s high profile has no shortage of dating options.

In short, you have no idea what to do. The safest option seems to be to stay quiet and hope that whatever feelings you may or may not have for Alexia eventually fizzle out. 

But what if she feels the same? Would it not be worth taking the risk?

———

You’re alone in the media office, everyone else having gone for lunch, when you hear a knock on the door and glance up to see Alexia leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” she grins at you.

“Can I help you?” you ask, relaxing back in your chair.

“I’m just here to say hi,” Alexia answers with a shrug. “You get to watch me at work every day. I thought it was only fair that I do the same.”

“My work is a lot less watchable than yours,” you point out. 

Alexia enters the office and grabs one of the empty chairs, wheeling it towards your desk before she sits down in it.

“What are you doing?” she asks, peering at the screen of your computer.

“I’m editing those pictures we took for the club shop,” you explain. You glance across at Alexia with a mischievous grin and ask, “Do you think anybody would notice if I photoshopped your head onto Mapi’s body?”

“I’ve always wondered what I’d look like with a tattoo sleeve,” Alexia jokes back.

“I like the tattoos you’ve got,” you shrug. You point at the one on the inside of her left bicep, just visible beneath the sleeve of her t-shirt. “I think this one is my favourite.”

“Would you ever get a tattoo?” Alexia asks.

“How do you know I don’t already have one?” you quip back.

“I don’t remember you having any.”

Alexia raises her eyebrows and you blush, reminded of the fact that she has indeed seen all of you, even if her knowledge of your body is five years out of date.

You spin the office chair around and lift the hem of your top to expose the side of your ribcage to show off the tattoo you got a few months ago. It’s an outline of an old fashioned camera, mostly minimalist in design, with a few flowers surrounding it.

“It’s a cliche, I know, but I got it when I got the job here. It was my first full time photography job and I wanted to celebrate the occasion.”

“It’s beautiful,” Alexia tells you, leaning closer to examine the tattoo. 

It’s probably a HR violation to expose this much skin during work hours but you and Alexia are the only ones in the media office so you don’t really care.

Until there’s a noise behind you as one of your colleagues enters the room, and you let the hem of your top drop to cover up your tattoo again. You turn back to your computer, back to the pictures you were editing before Alexia showed up, at least wanting to make it look like you’re working.

“Anyway, I did have something to ask you,” Alexia continues. “What are you doing on Saturday night?”

You rack your brains. The girls don’t have a match this weekend and they’ve also been given a couple of days off from training, which means you’ve got a free weekend too.

“Saturday? Nothing yet, why?”

“What’s your dad doing on Saturday night?” Alexia asks a follow up question.

“My dad?” you ask, shooting Alexia a confused look.

“I’ve been given a box at Camp Nou for the men’s Clasico on Saturday,” Alexia explains. “A few of the girls are coming and of course you’re invited too, but you mentioned your dad was a big Barca fan. I thought maybe you’d like to bring him along too?”

You’re taken aback by Alexia’s generosity. That she wants to invite you is nice, but that she also remembers you telling her about your dad bringing you to matches at Camp Nou when you were a child and extends the invitation to him too is a gesture of kindness that only reinforces your affection for Alexia.

“I think he’d love that. Thank you. I’ll text him and let you know.”

You make a few final clicks with your mouse, adding the finishing touches to your rushed attempt at photoshop.

“Look,” you say, turning the computer screen to show Alexia your edit of her head onto Mapi’s body.

The photoshop job is messy, nowhere near the level of technical skill you can show with a bit more time, but with your only aim to pull a laugh from Alexia, you’re not fussed about cleaning up the sloppy edges or making it look professional.

And laugh is exactly what Alexia does. It takes her a few seconds to realise that you’ve followed through on your joke from earlier, but when she does, a burst of warm laughter erupts from her chest. 

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I love Mapi but that’s all wrong. It’s not even the tattoos, just the way she stands is different to me. It just looks weird.”

“Damn, I was convinced I’d just made you a new profile picture for social media,” you tease her.

“Can you send it to me?” Alexia asks with a grin. “I want to show Mapi. She’ll hate it.”

[minimultiestfandoms]

~~🎀 fashion icon 🎀~~

requested: yes

i hope this doesn’t suck to bad guys this is my first ever full writing and my first ever smut so please leave ideas and tips and feedback for me and let me know what you guys think! since i’m more of a headcanons and fake texts type of gal!

— Sunnie

inspired by song fashion icon by aliyah’s interlude

description y/n goes on a shopping trip with his friends and comes back to a clingy hyunjin who wants a fashion show from his very own fashion icon of a boyfriend.

warnings!: 18+!, male x male intercourse!, male x male relationships!, male feminization!, mentions of lingerie!, skirts!, handjobs!, boners!, cum play!, breeding kink!, anal sex!, mirror sex!, photography during sex!, nipple play!

——————————————————————————

It was an exhausting yet rewarding day, getting to hang out with the girls after so long was fun! going store to store and spending money on cute new things felt great, Y/N knew he would put these items all too great use as he wasn’t one for wasting his money on things he wouldn’t use and knows his boyfriend, Hyunjin would scold him if he did, anyway. Y/n enters his and Hyunjin’s shared apartment, taking his shoes off carefully and walking in holding about six bags, each from a different store in the mall, he looks around, no Hyunjin to be seen, which meant he was most likely in his makeshift art studio in the apartment.

Y/N slowly pats his feet on the floor as he makes his way to Hyunjin’s Studio, Holding his six bags, he slowly creaks the door open revealing a comfy domestic bare faced Hyunjin painting away at it slowly, the moon shun through the window of the room softly onto his skin making him look ethereal at this time in day, Y/N smiles “Hey baby” to which Hyunjin turns and smiles “Hey jagi, when did you get home?” “just now, what are you painting?” Hyunjin chuckles “oh I honestly don’t really know yet… I was about to take a break cause I’ve been in here a while… how was your day out with your friends?” Y/N, enters the room placing his bags down on the floor and sitting comfortably.

“It was great! We talked and drank coffee at first then went window shopping and actually bought some stuff, then we talked a little more and then they drove me back home!” Y/N explained enthusiastically causing Hyunjin to smile brighter as his boyfriend’s excitement and enthusiasm “oh, really? That’s great to hear, jagi, what did you buy?” “just some clothes” Hyunjin smiles “hey show me them! I want a fashion show, with my very own muse and model~” “Jinnie… right now? but you’re painting you really don’t need to..” Y/N pouted feeling bad that Hyunjin would have to stop doing something he loved just so he could watch him try on clothes “no jagi it’s fine, I told you already I’m blank anyway, you could give me some inspiration jagiya~” Y/N shyly smiles and nods, beginning to open one of the six shopping bags and pull out the articles of clothing from it signaling for Hyunjin to turn around with a wave of a finger, Hyunjin whines but listens turning around.

Hearing his boyfriend changing stirred something up in Hyunjin, he wasn’t sure what or why it happened but he tried to calm down when he heard his boyfriend state out a sassy “ahem~” to signal him to turn back around, Which Hyunjin did happily eyeing Y/N up and down slowly and smiling “you look good jagi…. the top and skirt look nice together….” Y/N smiles happily at his boyfriends response only to shift slightly from a change of glance in Hyunjin’s eyes, what was once admiration and love was now lust and desire, Hyunjin licked his bottom lip softly as he eyes Y/N “you know jagi… I might have a way to get inspired... care to help me out with that?” Y/N had never rushed so fast as he rushed towards his boyfriend clinging to him and whining “y-yes jinnie i wanna help~”

Hyunjin smirked carrying Y/N and lifting him over his shoulder as he left his studio and made his way to their bedroom, he placed Y/N softly down on the bed staring down at him as he softly raised his shift over his head and throwing it into some unknown corner of their room, Y/N sits up about to pull his shirt off too but Hyunjin stops him “ah ah ah jagi~ these stay on ok? ~” Y/N nods desperately laying back, Hyunjin leans down to kiss Y/N lustfully as he pull his sweats off himself, leaving him in his boxers as he starts to kiss and suck purple bruises of admiration and lust into Y/N’s neck slowly getting lower.

Hyunjin chuckles and lifts Y/N’s cropped shift just to where his nipples were revealed. Hyunjin slowly blows at them, causing Y/N to shiver and whine. Soon after, Hyunjin began to suck and lick at Y/N’s nipples while he palmed him through his short mini skirt, causing Y/N to moan and arch his back in pleasure. He slowly reached his big veiny hand under Y/N’s skirt and panties, pulling out his hard, fat and leaking cock, giving it a first few soft strokes as he kiss his boyfriend's lips once again.

Y/N moans into the kiss, causing Hyunjin to smirk and pump Y/N’s cock faster in his hands, god Hyunjin was so turnt on, he couldn’t help but grind the hard on in his boxers against Y/N, Hyunjin let’s go of Y/N’s cock for a moment, causing him to whine at the loss of touch, hyunjin needily taps his fingers at Y/N’s mouth placing them in his mouth once he opens his mouth and whines when Y/N sucks on them needily while looking up at him with his big doe eyes.

After a while, Hyunjin pulls out his finger and circles at Y/N’s entrance teasingly, causing him to whine “Jinne please~ don’t tease~” “why not jagi? can’t handle it?” “no please~” Hyunjin chuckles, usually he’d drag it out more but he couldn’t wait anymore he couldn’t wait to be in his loving little fashionable muse, he pumps his fingers in preparing Y/N for his cock and groans as he feels Y/N palm his hard on in his boxers, shit he might cum early….

He pulled his fingers out and desperately pulled out his cock from his boxers, shoving it into Y/N’s entrance causing both of them to groan “…shit… no matter how many times I stretch you out you always snap right back huh? ~ always tight for this cock huh jagi? ~” Y/N whines “mhmm haven’t even started yet jagi and your already speechless” Hyunjin smirks slowly moving, Y/N pouts “I am n-not speechless just… a little tired…from the mall” Hyunjin smiles “then let me take care of you baby~, be my little pillow princess~”

Y/N smiles tiredly and moans as Hyunjin speeds his hips up, the sound of slick, moans, pants and skin smacking on eachother fill the room in echoes, Y/N claws at Hyunjin’s back needily pulling him closer, Hyunjin’s free hand pumping Y/N’s cock, Y/N moans loudly and desperately as his back arches. Y/N couldn’t have thought his day would get any better, but getting fucked desperately by his boyfriend was something he would want to happen more in the future. Hyunjin sucks at Y/N’s neck thrusting and thrusting and thrusting when he feels something like a ribbon snap in him as he cummed in Y/N groaning, pumping Y/N more and more desperately, causing him to cry and spurt out a cumshot he whines.

“Fuck…. Jinnie I’ve never seen you cum so fast before…” “I’m sorry… I couldn’t help it…shit..” “mhmmm you feel nice inside….” as the two pant trying to catch their breath, Y/N notices Hyunjin’s disappointment and guilt as he felt like he should have made it last longer, Y/N chuckles “you know baby… if you reacted like this only to this outfit I don’t know how you’ll react to the other five bags especially the lingerie from Victoria's…” Hyunjin looks at Y/N and slowly smirks “your right… we still have five more bags for you to model for me jagiya~” Oh what a long night ahead of him Y/N had…

——————————————————————————

taglist; @bigkpopstan, @baka-writings, @haechansfbuddy, @jeonronwoo, @jiminslostjam, @bluejaem, @jisungismymom, @hyuckography, @i-luvsang, @neocrush, @moonshineboyz, @chewryy, @sugarcherriess, @jinkoh, @hazyhae, @angelbabyyy99

[thedevils7thstring]

Ok so I haven’t seen anyone else do this so I guess I’ll be the first to make a Mumboville oc. I’m absolutely loving the world Mumbo is building in Season 10 so I thought I’d try my hand making a character for the town.

Storage: Terracotta, clay, and pottery shards

Store: Pottery Studio

Store Name: The Garage Sale

Character Name: Tammy

Story: Tammy is around Jr’s (Willy Jr. but everyone in town just calls him Jr) age and started selling pottery out of her house as a way to pay for college, but even after graduating she still kept going because everyone in town really liked her work, so eventually she renovated her garage into a full on pottery studio where she makes all sorts of pots, mugs, plates, etc. She doesn’t exactly have a store, it’s just her house with a pottery studio in her garage and a small makeshift storefront set up outside of the garage. Bunch of wooden shelves and tables with all sorts of colorful pottery. The name comes from a joke that everyone thinks it looks like she’s constantly having a garage sale.

Business Card: I don’t think she’d really have a business card, I like the idea that she has custom printed price tags and stickers that she uses to tape store bags closed. The logo is a circle with the words “The Garage Sale,” curved over the top. Inside the circle is a smiling person holding up a pot.

Mini Story Thing: Tammy notices that the girl who runs the flower shop down the street comes to The Garage a lot. At first she thought it was because she was just getting pots for flowers but eventually realized that she wasn’t buying anything…

I will be updating later with a drawing of Tammy and the “Business Card”

[aechii]

ENHYPEN • CUTE MOMENTS OF AUTUMN

abt. a few headcanons for each member, stating some cute things you two would do in autumn.

warn. mentions of food

a/n. this took alot of thinking lmao 😭 my brain is completely scarce of thoughts. anyways, these are just my opinions and yes, there will be alot of baking/cooking in this as autumn is definitely the season for them. i do not celebrate halloween so there isn't anything about it in here, apart from the few mentions of pumpkin pies. hope you enjoyyyy :))

--

lee heeseung .:.

cuddles under a warm blanket. reruns of gilmore girls. baking heart shaped cookies. walks through the park. buying pumpkin spice candles. doing 'just dance' at home as it's too cold to go to the dance studio. midnight talks about autumn vs winter. buying matching knitwear. building towers with empty (and clean!) ramen pots. studying side by side with a rainy view. nose kisses. playing jenga as the fireplace is lit.

park jongseong .:.

mindless autumn clothing shopping for each other. rap battles with a teddy bear as the judge. making heart-shaped pizza. reading with lofi music in the background. making autumn themed clay rings. playing monopoly at 2am. teaching jay how to crochet sweaters. eating pumpkin pie when binge watching vinzenzo. thrifting cozy sweaters. jay painting your nails. volunteer at the local autumn fayre.

shim jaeyun .:.

jumping into leaf piles at the park. taking selfies of your reflection in a puddle. buying layla cute clothes for the cold season. baking ghost buns. competing over who can finish their physics questions the fastest. forehead kisses. guess the ramen flavour. buying weirdly scented candles. playing mario kart whilst huddled under blankets. waking up very early to take layla on a walk during quiet hours.

park sunghoon .:.

going to the ice-rink since the local lake hasn't frozen over yet. tiktoks in the park. watching the fireworks display on bonfire night. singing christmas carols 2 months early. sunghoon trying to teach you how to skate. sleeping in late on rainy days. baking pumpkin pies, which goes very wrong. writing poems about each other instead of doing homework. matching outfits when going out (big infinity scarves + long coats). early morning coffee runs.

kim sunoo .:.

dumping marshmallows on hot chocolate (and getting residue moustaches). baking red velvet cupcakes and decorating them with orange icing. late skin care routines. putting facial masks on each other. playing makeshift tennis with a balloon from the previous night's bonfire party. afternoon naps cuddled beneath a knitted blanket. compliment battles. listening to krnb as you both do homework.

yang jungwon .:.

going to a cat café. sliding on the floorboards with socks. catching falling leaves and exchanging them instead of flowers. baking chocolate chip cookies. buying mini heart-shaped candles. going to the bookstore and staying there for hours. picking apples. making an autumnal song together. painting each other's trainers. reading and annotating books for each other. sky-gazing as you lay on a blanket of leaves.

nishimura riki .:.

trying all of starbucks' fall drinks. riki teaching you japanese. dancing together to soft jazz. walks through the park as it rains. watching 'it's the great pumpkin charlie brown'. listening to taylor swift while cooking. playing tag at the park and throwing leaves at each other. buying matching fuzz socks. buying tote bags. thrifting a patchwork blanket. lighting candles in every corner of the house. pebble throwing at the lake.

[mediamixs]

Dawn of the Dead (2004) Review: a classic horror movie to watch again

Adapted by James Gunn (Scooby Doo) from the original 1978 George A. Romero screenplay, Dawn of the Dead opens by allowing us to get briefly acquainted with the movies central protagonist, a pretty young nurse named Ana (Sarah Polley). But her safe suburban lifestyle is short lived, and a mysterious epidemic ensures that Ana is fleeing from ravenous zombies before the movie even hits the ten minute mark. She soon meets Kenneth (Ving Rhames), a tough-as-nails cop, and moments later they come across Michael (Jake Weber), a soft-spoken but natural leader, Andre (Mekhi Phifer), a man with a questionable past, and Luda (Inna Korobkina), Andres pregnant girlfriend.

They take refuge in a sprawling shopping mall, but quickly run afoul of the less-than-hospitable security guards C.J. (Michael Kelly), Bart (Michael Barry), and Terry (Kevin Zegers). More characters are added later, notably Steve (Ty Burrell), a smart-ass yuppie, and Andy (Bruce Bohne), the owner of a nearby gun shop. As the horrible infection spreads across the globe, and the situation becomes increasingly desperate, the characters come to realize that no help is coming from the outside. If they are to survive, they must take matters into their own hands. Luckily for us, that involves chainsaws, armor-reinforced parking shuttles, and propane tanks rigged into makeshift bombs.

The action comes fast and furious throughout, and director Zack Snyder (helming his first feature film) does a nice job of pacing and getting us right into the thick of things. He does tend to overuse the slow-motion effect whenever theres an explosion or cartridge ejected from a gun, but this can be forgiven because (a) its his freshman effort, and (b) it doesnt really take away from this particular story. Were also treated to some solid camera work, editing which maintains a fast pace but doesnt confuse the viewer, and excellent special effects with plenty of brains and blood to go around.

The soundtrack also plays a pivotal part in the film, adding an extra dimension to several key scenes. From Johnny Cashs When the Man Comes Around during the opening credits sequence (which, by the way, is better than many full-length zombie movies), to People Who Died by The Jim Carroll Band and a lounge version of Down With the Sickness by Richard Cheese and Lounge Against the Machine, its beyond me why the studio chose not to release this soundtrack.

The acting is very strong for a film of this genre, and Jake Weber and Sarah Polley are particularly impressive in the roles of Michael and Ana. They both manage to bring a quiet sincerity to their roles, something not easily accomplished in a movie dominated by flesh-hungry ghouls and belching shotguns. The cast is much larger than the original, but each character is given a few moments to shine and let the audience identify with them. True, nobody is fleshed out to the extent of, say, George C. Scotts Patton or Denzels Malcolm X, but what do you expect from a horror movie? This isnt Biography, folks.

Fans of the original Dawn will be happy to see cameos by Ken Foree, Scott Reiniger, and Sex Machine Tom Savini. There are several other nods to the original movie scattered throughout, and one gets the sense that the filmmakers had a great affection for their predecessor. But make no mistake, this movie stands on its own with a different cast of characters, different climax, and completely different ending. Comparisons between the two are inevitable, but ultimately unfair to both pictures. Its like comparing the original Atari to the Xbox. Both are a blast, but one is simply hopelessly outdated when held up to modern standards.

It should also be noted that the movie continues through the end credits, so dont run off as soon as the lights start to come up. If you do, youll probably leave the theater with a much different idea of what happened than those who stayed behind.

Dawn of the Dead updates a classic and improves upon it along the way. The action is faster, the zombies are faster, and the overall product just looks better. Its a zombie movie for the modern generation and well worth the price of admission.

[rose-henry]

we have finally arrived in canadia!! I know I haven’t been posting at all but here are some photos from our first 30 hours in this beautiful country. more coming over the next 4 months 🥰

we arrived at 2pm yesterday to our studio apartment to find it OCCUPIED with an airbnb guest 😳 left for an hour and used some makeshift google translate to spanish to ask the cleaner if she could clean it next and it was all ready when we came back…. with no sheets or towels. (it was supposed to be fully furnished). got them by the end of the day and we were overjoyed and relieved to be not homeless with a roof over our head and a place to sleep and dwell for the rest of the year!

after some grocery shopping, we had our first lunch and thien spilt way too much pepper on his sandwich hehe

then we went to this cool drumming circle! everyone was picnicing and smoking weed and frolicking in the sun 🌞

we hiked up mount royal, the big mountain in the middle of the city which gives montréal its name. here’s the view from the top. it was relieving and refreshing to see so much green nature after being in nyc for 4 weeks.

for dinner we had our first poutine! it was kinda gross but mostly yummy, kinda like hsp but gravy instead of meat and good halloumi-ish cheese (curds).

and we rode bixi bikes (like lime bikes with docking stations everywhere) around 😌🚴‍♀️😮‍💨

lots of love from canada ❤️

[bittermause]

End of the Year Review: A Three Year Act Edition

My birthday is ten days away, so I felt it appropriate to write another one of these End of Year Reviews before then. I decided to summarize the last two years since I didn't bother to do so after 2019. The motivation to do this came from regretting to not record and keep any of my previous EoY posts from 2018 and earlier. As I get older, those said years became a blur to me, which is unfortunate. But I digress, let's start things off with the glorious year of...

2020

The year when Covid went into full swing around the globe, but also the year of brand new beginnings and a year full of insane luck and precise timing. In 2019, literally the day after Christmas, I was offered a job as a 2D Animator for a unique Cybersecurity training firm in CA. After a brief moment of panic and my best friend convincing me to take a chance with this new venture, I agreed to move out west at the end of January, and start my new job in February. For first two weeks I stayed at an AirBnB close to my job, and eventually moved into a makeshift studio space attached to a family home that belonged to a fellow alumni's mother. I never imagined I would finally leave Michigan after 35 years of personal pain and misery, to have a job that actually paid a livable wage that was also synonymous with my career path, and be able to leave behind an environment that put me in a constant state of stress and depression. For the first time in ages, I felt truly blessed. In the Spring, my best friend and I started getting re-acquainted with an old mutual friend of ours that we seldom spoke to in years. We ended up spending weekend nights having three way calls, discussing creative projects and talking about life in general. Never thought I'd re-connect with them in such a way, but now we have a much tighter friendship bond than we did in the past.

2021

After being able to save a lump sum of money thanks to the low rent cost and full on public transit reliance, I finally acquired a car. It didn't take me long to get re-acquainted with driving on the road; not having to deal with the iconic pot holes and rough weather worn terrain made travel cakewalk. I took my time to discover some great local haunts, like GraphAids and Record Outlet. However, in October I realized that my body was out of shape, and when I weighed myself for the first time in forever, I was hitting 231 Lbs. I took it upon myself to start a weight and task log in order to keep track of CICO, and exercise again. ( I was rotating between DDPY, Ringfit and the mini-elliptical) I also acquired a nutritionist to guide me in making better decisions for my diet. When November rolled around, I came to the conclusion that I needed to move out of the little studio space and into my own apartment. While it helped me save a great deal of money, the space was tiny, I missed having a stove, and a washer and dryer nearby. My landlady was oddly avoidant on giving rent history to my soon-to-be apartment management, but come later December I was still able to get approval for a unit. That same month, I announced the end of my long running web comic The Shufflers. It was one of the hardest decisions I had to make, but a necessary one. I still think about whether or not I can pick it back up again, but only time can tell.

2022

No doubt, is perhaps one of my favorite years living out in CA by far. I moved into an upper level apartment, got promoted to Production Supervisor at my workplace, I traveled to Colorado Springs to hang out with my friend, got to visit The Academy Museum with my workmates and explored the Studio Ghibli exhibition, and roamed a little bit around my new city and found some neat shops and restaurants. Along with it's pleasures, also came with great internal struggles; even though I left my old life two years ago, some of the excess baggage was still clinging on to me, and my perception of self was still very unhealthy. I started receiving therapy in June twice a month, in order to help me untangle my past grievances with myself and to help me pull away from the people that caused it. These sessions have been a real eye opener, and keeping a journal based on each one has greatly helped. One of the hardest challenges I've ever faced so far was convincing myself that I am worthy of self love and respect, to undo the belief that I am an unlovable, creep-ass overweight toad, and stop hiding my honest feelings and insecurity behind a goofy ass mask. While it's been a painful journey, the self-discovery was worth it.

Plans for 2023

I'll be continuing my self-improvement goals throughout this year. Since last October, I went down to 202 LBS. Next year I'd like to hit 175 or less. (Ideally I should be aiming for 135 as the ultimate end goal, but that won't be likely for another year and a half). Outside of that, the other goals I'd like to achieve are;

Continue making Animated shorts.

Get contacts, particularly ones I can wear if I decide to go swimming.

Get my hair professionally colored. Been thinking of doing a red violet or dark purple.

Re-work my wardrobe more

Continue exploring and go to more events.

Work on an actual comic project again.

So far for all the goals I've set in previous years, I was able to attain them. I hope that I'll be able to continue that trend in the next year.

[bowie-byers]

Discord Thread History / Murray's Flop Era

Jonathan Byers x Murray Bauman (@waldenwritess) x Nancy Wheeler (@soemotional)

Thread: Murray's a rlly hot cupid

Murray:

The whole endeavor had started off innocently. Really, it had! With Nancy joining The Weekly Watcher, Murray had wanted to make things official by including headshots on the last page of the paper. It helped build rapport with the audience, he thought. So he'd set out to find a local photographer who could deliver good quality for reasonable rates, and... well, as it turned out, he knew a guy. Murray and Jonathan had kept in touch, of course, though mostly through family dinners at Joyce's place. Murray had seen Jonathan around town a few times, too, with a new girl on his arm. Holly-- a reporter at The Post, as much as he could tell. Murray couldn't penalize the boy for having a type, but he could put two people together in an investigation of sorts. With Gabe's express permission, Murray had tacked up a white sheet to their living room wall to create a makeshift studio for the shots. Now, he was milling about the house, preparing waters (vodka on standby, in case) for his guests. He'd told Nancy to come fifteen minutes before Jonathan, to ensure they didn't run into each other outside and assume Murray was trying to pull a fast one over on them. When he heard a knock, Murray bounded to the door and opened it wide, grinning at his coworker. "Nancy, welcome. There's water in the kitchen, or something stronger if you prefer." Though it was a Sunday, he couldn't resist the urge to talk shop-- just for a minute. "You find anything on that couple in Montana? I know you're writing it up, but... humor me," he flashed a toothy smile. With his family expanding, Murray couldn't travel as much as he was used to-- which was why it was nothing short of serendipitous that Nancy had agreed to come on board when she had. It was a plus that she wasn't tied down, too, though Murray didn't hate the idea of changing that, either.

Nancy:

nancy wheeler was nothing if not punctual! so what if she swerved a little bit through traffic applying her lipstick! she wasn't going to keep everyone waiting. she wouldn't have taken so long though, if she didn't get so caught up in how she was going to look and if she should pin her hair up or let it fall down. it wasn't like the watcher was any big shot paper, but it was rewarding work. still, first impressions were everything, especially as a woman. so, when that first impression was a photograph she wanted to fit the image. eventually, she pieced together something that she labelled as cute and respectable and hauled ass to murray's! she met murray with a quick hug, then shuffled inside, not taking him up on his offer of water or something stronger. instead, she immediately immersed herself into talking about that couple, "well, her husband definitely wasn't replaced by a robot, but there was something...off...from the moment i met him. turns out, he had history working with the state government as some kind of low-down lackey on base of a military facility so i went--" nancy took a breath, then smiled coyly and pointed at murray, "i'll let you read the rest." she eyed her watch, then the door, "so, when's the photographer supposed to get here?" she wasn't in a rush or anything, but, nancy liked to keep up appearences, "it won't take long you don't think? i have a...thing in about an hour."

Jonathan:

Jonathan rolled up to Murray’s place and took a final & rushed drag of his cigarette, squeezing it into ashtray built into his car. It took him a few minutes to organize the mess of equipment in his trunk. Holly had (reluctantly) hauled him to the office a little past 3pm to wrap up a project for immediate press on Monday. Truthfully, he didn’t do much professional photography outside of his work with The Post - besides a couple weddings for Holly's friends over the last year. This was his first friends & family gig other than being passed the camera at household events. He generally liked to keep it that way but saying no to Murray wasn't an option and, honestly, he was happy to help. The buffer in his bank account was also welcome at this time of year, as much as he initially refused to talk about his rates. Dimming the financial impact of his last few road-trips along the coast to visit Holly's family was a nice bonus in his eyes. He trotted up the driveway and opted for the doorbell, adjusting his shoulder bag as he waited for the door to swing open. Murray seemed to be in a chipper mood - great. This was a good start. "Sorry I’m late, I got caught up at The Post and had to pack up my gear.” Jonathan wasn’t the most punctual person, as much as he tried. Murray would know based on the number of times he’d shown up late for his mom’s Sunday dinners. “I have a tripod and reflector in my bag – I can set up wherever you want, really. Have you thought about backgrounds for the shots? I wasn't sure so I brought a few neutral sheets." If not punctual, at least he showed up prepared. For all he knew The Weekly Watcher was orchestrated primarily by Murray himself. This would be an easy gig. Hopefully.

Murray:

Murray's face gave way to a sort of teasing frown, and he tsked his lips. "No killer robots yet... maybe by the twenty-fist century, huh?" he commented, then quieted himself to listen. Murray was hanging on Nancy's every word, a smug satisfaction filling his chest at the mention of government involvement-- wasn't there always? "I suppose it's only fair," he said, though his tone betrayed his desire to hear more. "It's always the military, isn't it? Someone should abolish that shit." Murray busied himself around the living room, moving his knick-knacks and Alondra's toys out of the way as much as possible. "Shouldn't take long at all! Just a few snaps. And the photographer's a real professional," he commented, mischievous gleam in his eye. Just then, the doorbell rang. "Ah! Hold that thought, Nancy." He hurried over to the door and opened it with a smile, waving away Jonathan's apology for his lateness. He'd expected it, after all. "Sure! I've cleared this spot in the living room and went ahead and put up a sheet. You can take it down if you'd rather-- but I thought the light was best here. Mi casa es tu casa," he offered with outstretched arms as they walked into the living room. Moment of truth. "Jonathan, Nancy, Nancy, Jonathan," he motioned between them jokingly. "Nancy's been working on the Watcher for.... six months now?" he asked Nancy. "She's been a great asset, always had the nose for this kind of stuff. Never could've expanded like it has without her." Murray retrieved the water pitcher and glasses from the kitchen and returned, offering it to both of them before pouring a few glasses. "And Jonathan's been working at The Post again, isn't that right? Small world, small town." He hid his pleased smile behind his glass.

[violetjedisylveon]

The Search Begins

Summary: Clone Force 99, and Rex lands on the Spælf homeworld of Cxylor in search of the Jedi Cid pointed them too. A meeting with civilian Loth-Werewolves shows them how little they actually know about what they are.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: mentions of blood, self harm, child harm, swearing, implied self hate and self deprecation.

A/N: Hello! I'm back with Omega still not having a good time, funny what repression of a key part of you will do, right?

Happy last day of pride month🌈, but tomorrow begins disability pride month! Fuck yeah!

Caoimhe Peli(oc) here!

Bad Batch werewolf AU link here.

________________________________________________________________________________

Naylaz got to the shop early in the morning, enjoying the cool air and the sparkle of morning dew on everything. She pulled her hair into a short ponytail with her bandana before heading it.

She was always the first, despite being almost the youngest of her siblings, she was an early riser and enjoyed the peace of the mornings.

She got straight to work setting up the shop for all her siblings' various uses, they wouldn't all be here today, it would be too chaotic if they were. Someone was always missing, a lot were missing today with offworld or other town business, maybe visiting some of the aunts and cousins.

Today it would just be herself, her niece Caoimhe, and her two older sisters, Dulcé, an amazing baker, and Zarol, an excellent woodworker, they worked on opposite ends of the shop. Caoimhe would help them both when she got back from school, which would be about noon. She would handle check outs and their handcrafted weapons, she doubted she'd have much time, but maybe she could eek out a bit to teach Caoimhe a bit more on weapon crafting, the girl absolutely loved it, almost as much as spending hours in her studios working on whatever she fancied.

It would be a good day.

XXX

Omega stared at the speck of purple in the meadow behind them as it got smaller. She hadn't gotten much of a look at it, the colors had caught her eye just as the ship began to swerve away.

She felt eyes on her… like whatever was down there was staring at her too.

Her brothers' voices drew her attention, she peeked her head out from her makeshift room. They were going somewhere, she assumed they were there now, but she hadn't been told where or why yet.

Rex was with them though.

She retreated into her room at the sound of footsteps. Her stupid ears wouldn't go away, they were starting to hurt from her band on them. So much so she was considering not wearing the band, but a little voice chided her for such thoughts. She caught Tech's scent outside her room.

"Omega, we are going to be landing soon." He told her.

She didn't say anything and was disappointed when he didn't just walk away.

"And we'll need you to come out with us." He added.

She squeaked and tucked herself into the blanket cave she'd constructed over the course of the trip. She didn't want to leave the safety of the ship. She heard Tech shuffle and type something on his datapad.

"Would knowing about this planet before we land incentivize you to come out?" He asked her.

"Mhm." She nodded.

"The planet we are landing on is called Cxylor. It's a very nice planet with four seasons, the natives are Spælves and they do a remarkable job at living harmoniously with nature. Their architecture is designed so plants can grow and thrive on it, if it's not already built into a tree. There are large forests of many kinds, some have massive trees in them that Spælf families carve and build their homes into, and there are many trees that are smaller, girth wise, and easier to climb closer to open space like the meadows, plateaus and beaches. The water is pleasantly cool and it doesn't go down terribly deep like Kamino, new land masses can form easily and the planet has very colorful beaches." He paused so she could take in the information.

"We are going to a village in the middle of a plateau meadow, you can see the ocean from it, this one has an orange beach, I think you'll like it. The people are nice here, Spælf are friendly towards Loths, the one we are going to see is Loth." Tech said.

Omega peeked out of her blankets and found Tech peeking into her room. He smiled at her, no teeth, and motioned for her to come out. She grabbed her cape, pulling it tight around her ears, and crawled out of her room. She latched on to Tech's hand once she was out.

Her eyes found the calming blue waters contrasted with peachy orange sands, just like Tech said through the windshield.

"It's so pretty." She whispered.

"It is aesthetically pleasing." Tech agreed.

She giggled a bit, then her eyes landed on the settlement in the meadow and her anxiety returned.

She held onto Tech's tail for comfort, he gave her a little, hesitant pat.

Everything's gonna be fine. She willed herself to believe it.

XXX

Naylaz heard the desk bell ring, she grunted and shifted her load from one arm to another.

"Just a minute!" She called.

She was glad to not hear any annoyance from the customers. The day had gone great, Caoimhe hadn't caused any trouble since getting here and had been mostly glued to Dulcé's side as she made a syrup infused bread that was smelling heavenly about now. There was steady but not overwhelming foot traffic outside, and no entitled customers had bothered her today.

It was all good.

The bell rang again, someone had short patience. She grunted and decided to just take her load with her to the front to attend to the customer.

"Coming!" She called out.

She set the overflowing basket down on the front counter and pushed it, and what had spilled out of it, aside.

"What can I do for you?" She asked before getting a good look at the customers.

Six people dressed in what looked like clone armor were crowded around the front desk. She saw a tiny hint of red and leaned over a smidge to see what it was.

A small girl, no older than Caoimhe, with a red hood pulled tightly over her head looked up at her nervously. Though she was doing her best to hide it, Naylaz knew the girl was Loth, she could see the characteristic nose even if she saw nothing else. The girl was nervous, but Naylaz knew a scared Loth child wasn't to be tested and opted not to comment on it.

She gave the girl a smile then looked back to the girl's pack.

An odd pack it was, they were all male, most Loth packs had a variety of genders. One's without it had usually suffered some tragedy beforehand. However, the armor told her there was another reason for their pack's make-up.

The girl seemed to grow more nervous by the second, and Naylaz smelled blood on her. It wasn't quite the same as menstrual blood, but she figured it needed mentioning, discreetly so she didn't embarrass the poor girl to death.

"Do you need a pad, sweety?" She asked.

The girl's nose turned slightly pink and she shook her head. Most of her pack seemed confused by the question. She safely assumed they were clones.

Naylaz turned her full attention to the girl's pack.

"What do you need?" She asked, angling her ears forwards as she leaned on the counter.

"Are you Naylaz Peli?" One clone, the shortest, asked.

Naylaz raised an eyebrow and tapped her name on the employee directory, which told customers who did what and where to find them.

"I'm pretty sure that's me." She said.

The girl stifled a snort.

"What can I help you with?" She asked.

The clones were bulky and took up a lot of space, luckily, no one else needed to check out right now, so she didn't need to be upfront about getting to the point. 

"Well? I don't have all day." She prompted when they still didn't say anything.

"We need to talk with you about something important." The clone with white armor painted blue stated.

"Can it wait? I've kinda got a shop to run." Naylaz pointed out.

The clones shifted uncomfortably, the biggest one looked like he was in pain.

"We don't have much time." Blue & White said.

"If you have an emergency, why didn't you go to the hospital?" Naylaz asked.

"We don't exactly trust that." He said.

"Don't trust anything your bosses don't run?" Naylaz joked.

It fell flat on all but the girl. The clones looked nervous at her comment.

"You are clones, right?" She guessed.

Evidently, the clones didn't know how to act in a situation like this. Naylaz thought of a few people who would find it funny.

"If it's not an emergency, there's medical supplies and first aid in the back, Úlfr isn't here so you'll have to check everything yourself." She told them, gesturing towards the pharmacy area.

"Oh, and the establishment and it's employees are not liable for any ill effects as a result of customers not listening to our instructions on what to use." She added.

The clones still didn't move. Naylaz suppressed a sigh, customers would start complaining soon.

"I really need you to move along, a line's forming." Naylaz said politely.

"We need to talk about something very important, discreetly." Blue & White said carefully.

"This is a market front shop, it's not discreet, you want to whisper secrets, go to the bakery on the edge of town, the one with the tree that's always in bloom, wonderful place and you can talk about anything there." She advised.

"We were told to talk to you." He said.

He got an elbow from the short clone, it must've been a very sensitive topic. Naylaz leaned forward, her interest piqued.

"By who?" She asked.

The clones hesitated. Naylaz frowned and grabbed her basket.

"If you aren't going to explain yourselves, I can't help you. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a shop to run." She said, turning away from the clones towards the inventory.

"Cid sent us."

It was barely a whisper, Naylaz's frown deepened. Contact with Cid had always been spotty, Cid wasn't as entirely trustworthy, but she'd come through when needed. Now why would she send clones my way? And with a kid? She turned back around, holding the basket on her hip.

"In back, don't touch anything." She ordered.

She opened the gate to the employees only area and let them through, giving the little Loth a friendly smile as she walked by.

"Kiwi! I need you to cover the check out! I've gotta deal with something!" She shouted.

An audible groan came from her niece, but the girl dutifully made her way over. Naylaz left her basket and went to the back to speak with these clones.

All except for the youngling were standing awkwardly in the back room. The girl was currently fascinated by the terrarium with a pair of hatchling dragon snakes coiled under the light.

Naylaz dropped the storefront formality and got straight to the point.

"Spill it, what's Cid want? She need to be bailed out or did her arms get ripped off by a Wookiee again?" She asked.

"That's happened before?" One asked.

"Yeah, happens all the time, now hurry up and say it. I can't leave Kiwi at the checkout for too long." She said.

"Is this room secure?" Shorty asked.

"Yep, no Empire on the planet anyway." Naylaz answered.

The clones looked uncomfortable, perhaps they didn't actually want to tell her what was up.

"Cid told us you knew someone who could help a very unique situation. Someone with unique skills." Blue & White said quietly.

"I know lots of people, wanna narrow that down?" She suggested.

"Jedi. We are here to talk about Jedi." The tall, lanky clone said, getting straight to the point.

"Why would clones need a Jedi?" She asked, immediately skeptical.

"We have a problem and need a Jedi to help fix it, and Cid said they could help our pup over there." Shorty said.

To her, it was very clear who Cid wanted them to find, and the little pup needing help would give them some degree of security. Naylaz didn't entirely trust them.

"Why would there be a Jedi around these parts? Sure it's remote but too obvious to hide in." She paused, dark thoughts flushing her head, "Besides, didn't you kill them all?"

Apparently, that comment struck a nerve. The lanky one straight up growled at her, she growled and snarled right back.

"Don't threaten me in my territory." She warned.

It was intensely disrespectful, to be allowed into her territory and then to threaten her, especially for such a young Loth.

Blue and White one stepped up, again. He was the oldest, so he was the leader even if he wasn't fully part of this particular pack, at least until an older Loth joined them or the pup came of age.

"Your packmate needs to learn respect." She snarled.

The aforementioned Loth sneered at her, his leader put up a hand and Shorty shot him a glare.

"Yes, he does. I'm sorry about that, they don't have much experience with these situations." He apologized uneasily.

"I can tell." Naylaz snipped.

All of these clones acted like they owned any planet they set foot on. Part of that may have been due to their upbringing and lack of proper influence from other Loths, but they were so damn disrespectful and they were pups. They might look full grown but any Loth with a functioning nose could tell how old they really were.

"You lot are terrible at this." She snapped.

Apparently, this ticked off the lanky one, again. He was easy to piss off.

"We don't need your to correct our manners-"

"What manners?" She cut him off.

"Just tell us where to find the damn Jedi!" He snarled.

He just barely shifted, just a change in his face, his muzzle growing and fangs, and maybe it was just heightened emotions, but it was still a threat.

Naylaz growled and shifted, now towering above the humans. She snarled and puffed up her fur. They wouldn't get away with threatening her on her territory.

"Whoa, ma'am calm down, he didn't mean it." Scomp said, urgently trying to diffuse the situation.

"Do not order me around." She hissed.

The goggled clone elbowed his intensely disrespectful brother and stepped forwards.

"I'm so sorry about him, we really do not mean you any disrespect." He said.

Naylaz glared at the offending clone, but forced her body to relax. She didn't shift back, no, she was still determined to remind them that they were in her territory.

"Who are you really looking for? Cause I am certain there are no Jedi on Cxylor." She asked with a soft growl.

"We're looking for someone called 'Blue', Cid says you know her." Shorty said.

Naylaz examined the clones again, looking for any hint of their true intentions. Her gaze was drawn towards the small pup, she had taken one of the dragon snakes out and was playing with it. Anxiety, nervousness, fear and hate all underlined her fairly typical, although somewhat odd, pup scent. Naylaz watched the girl and her mannerisms for a few minutes, until it all clicked together.

"What's wrong with your pup?" She prompted.

The clones bristled slightly at the mention of their youngest, but wisely didn't repeat the same mistake. Shorty glanced at the oblivious pup with a guilty expression.

"We uh, we don't know." He admitted reluctantly.

Naylaz stared at him in disbelief, he didn't know? It was clear as day that something was seriously messing with the poor pup. She felt a touch of anger at the clones.

"You adopted that pup with no idea of how to care for her? Who let you become parents?!" She barked.

The pup yelped at her sudden outburst and whimpered, ducking under a table. Naylaz recognized it as a frightened baby sound, and expected the clones to have been growling and snarling at her for scaring their pup, but they weren't. It almost seemed like they didn't register the sound as the cry for help it was, or they didn't know how to respond, just casting guilty looks in her direction.

Seeing as the pup was still hiding and the clones still clueless, Naylaz took matters into her own hands. She pushed past the useless clones and knelt down to the terrified pup. She gave the girl a gentle nudge with her snout.

"Are you alright sweety?" She asked, softly purring to let the pup know she was safe.

Terrified brown eyes stared at her from the relative darkness, she saw a tuft of blond fur poking out from under the pup's oversized cape, and her snout. The girl was looking back and forth between her pack and Naylaz frantically.

Naylaz took the hint and positioned her body and tail to conceal the pup from prying eyes. She could see what the pup was so desperately trying to hide now.

All along her back were thin red scratch marks, her skin was red and irritated underneath the pulled out fur. Naylaz checked over the rest of her body for any more scratches, her legs also had those same marks.

She looked back to the pup and instantly felt so much worse for the poor girl, she was shaking so much. Naylaz cooed sympathetically, it was a gentle, comforting sound that got the pup to relax a bit.

I understand why Cid sent them here now. She thought.

She briefly wondered what had caused this pup to feel the need to tear her own fur out before her thoughts were interrupted by an unexpected intrusion.

"Auntie Nal, is someone hurt back here?" Caoimhe, her niece.

"Whoa, where are you guys from?!" She heard Caoimhe's tail thumping around excitedly.

Naylaz glanced over at her niece, the young wolf was eagerly sniffing the clones and making them very uncomfortable. While it was amusing to see hardened soldiers lurch away from a child like she was going to kill them, it wasn't necessary.

"Kiwi, can you go back to the register? I'm dealing with something." She said, giving the pup a gentle nudge with her tail.

Caoimhe didn't move, her bi colored eyes were fixed on something behind Naylaz. Before Naylaz could stop her, her niece had already approached the other pup. The pup in question was not thrilled to be spotted, she growled softly at Caoimhe.

"Are you okay? What happened to your back? How did you get hurt?!" Caoimhe asked, genuinely concerned for the other pup's safety.

Internally, Naylaz cursed herself for not getting Caoimhe out of there fast enough, her niece was kind and incredibly sympathetic, but she couldn't read a room to save her life and often said things that should have stayed quiet, she never meant to cause any harm. So despite her good intentions, the room stilled at her words.

"Hurt? You're hurt?!" Shorty exclaimed.

The rest of the pack had similar responses, but only two of them, Blue and White and Scomp, had the sense to step the fuck back and give more space.

In his shock, Shorty shifted back, the pup curled in on herself, tail pulled close to her body. The other two got too close as well. Naylaz shouldered the Loths aside to keep them from crowding the stressed pup.

"Back off, you'll only frighten her." She warned.

The stubborn clone growled at her and tried to shove past her. Naylaz gave him a low warning growl. Fights weren't good for pups to witness, she really wanted this to de-escalate quickly.

"Stand. Down." She growled.

Caoimhe suddenly yelped in pain, Naylaz whirled around to see the pup had bitten her niece's tail and had her pinned. She instantly recognized the wide eyed panic of the blond pup and knew it was a panicked fight or flight response.

"Omega!" Shorty snarled.

Instantly the pup let go and gave her packmate a terrified stare. She frantically looked around the room, sides expanding and contracting with her rapid, shallow breaths.

"Omega…" Naylaz said softly.

The pup howled at her and bolted out the exit.

Naylaz sadly watched her run away, her pack clueless on what to do but follow their pup. Blue and white stayed behind, he wasn't really one of their pack, so it made enough sense. Naylaz turned her attention to her own pup.

Caoimhe was staring after the other Loths, her tail had small spots of blood welling up. She looked at Naylaz with guilt and confusion.

"Did… did I do something wrong again…?"

XXX

The Loth-wolf clung to the shadows as she climbed up the docking bay's walls. The ship that had snared her interest had already been investigated by any curious pups in the area, her scent would be easily hidden under all the intertwining aromas of the village. Not that she planned on getting close enough to leave her scent on anything.

She glanced around quickly, checking for the ship's owners, before approaching the edge of the docking bay. A quick sniff told her the owners were gone, she'd have to wait.

Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long.

A pup reeking with the stench of fear and shame and blood bolted from the bay entrance to the ship, quickly disappearing within. She heard a door slam shut inside.

Soon after, other Loths came, adults. The pup's parents. She assumed. They were too focused on their pup to notice her, and she easily slipped out of sight, but not out of ear shot. These had been the Loths, the pup specifically, that had intrigued her, she wanted to get a feel for the adults, she already had a good idea of how the pup was.

"She's locked herself in the fresher, she won't come out." One said.

She frowned at the troubling thought of whatever the pup could be doing in there, but forced herself to walk away. That pup had adults, a pack, to help her, while she had no one. Hard as it was sometimes, she had to prioritize herself over strangers.

So she stuck to the shadows and trotted out of town, to the edge of the forest near her friend's territory. She might as well observe this pack while they were here, and it wouldn't hurt to see some friends.

She settled down in a nice, soft patch of grass and waited for nightfall.

Right on time, at dusk, her friend and their pack made it to the border. 

The Spælf pack was disheartened and upset. She caught a faint whiff of blood, mixed with guilt, from the youngest. That was certainly something she could bud into.

She rose from her resting spot and stretched her back.

"Hello there."

Four pairs of eyes landed on her, and five tails began wagging excitedly.

________________________________________________________________________________

Mega go CHOMP!

I like to traumatize Omega in case you haven't noticed yet. I feel bad for doing it cause I don wanna see the lil baby hurt, but I do it anyway cause it's also stupid fun.

Spælves tend to have really big families, this is amped up for the Loth Spælves with the higher chance of multiples in one pregnancy, so family, kin and community are very important to them. Another fun thing about them is when they have a kid with all parents eye colors in their eyes is when they stop having kids(they don't have too many either way), since they've had a perfect mix. Caoimhe is one of those kids, hetero chromia is the only thing hetero about her. Hetero chromia is also fairly common in Spælves, roughly 20% of them have it.

I didn't get to this but Spælves are generally red orange to yellow in skin color with splotches of cooler colors, Naylaz is orange with blue splotches, Caoimhe has purple.

Naylaz is also aro ace.

Happy pride month 🌈!

I hope you all have a good day, whatever that is for you!

VJS Out!

[hwanhd]

“in a world full of temporary things, you are a perpetual feeling.” ― sanober khan

with mentions of @hdminseon ; a timeline where they knew each other names and in which hwan thinks of them to be soulmates. // wc: 941 excl quotes

hwan knows he is late. days has passed and unfortunately time waits for no man since his debut dates are due to arrive; which means with every ticking clock, every second counts. there is an underlying root to his excuse aside of his overexerting self. the raven-haired knows he is hardworking, more often to the point that at any moment now he would eventually break. he's proven so much yet the idea of 'not being enough' sits heavy on his shoulder and mind. when and if hwan takes a break, there's a itch or two that settles on his skin and is hard to rid unless he burns away in the heat of practice.

but even then, when hwan finds himself in the present and being painfully aware of the time. he realized that the tenth of february have long passed and the feeling of guilt sits heavy in his stomach, in his exhausted and sagged shoulders and with each breath he takes. he's sure that minseon would not mind of his lateness. the guy's an angel and ever so patient with hwan. it still amazes him how he's come to have the stars align for them not only knowing prior to their late night meeting in the studio but also before that, on a platform where artist connects with one another ―  or rather, had share their own songs not only for their own self gratification but for the world to eventually discover their worth.

it's slightly past 3am when hwan finishes his day and when he debates on whether he should text minseon after having exchanged their numbers with one another some while back. they text occasionally like every other friends do, and once a while hwan would excitedly share his new demos for the latter to evaluate. his finds it to be a routine that old married couple would settle down to after years of marriage, but in his case, there's just this comfortable pacing and a sense of serenity when it comes to getting minseon's approval. hwan has never been much of a person pleaser, but his confidence does shoot through the roof if he finds his friend enjoying his pieces.

he settles for checking in on minseon for the places that he could be. the practice room, the recording studio and any places that the younger male could be in. hopefully he isn't sleeping in those places, but knowing the latter, hwan doubts that his friend would be in his dorm. after all it had been this trait albeit a negative one, that had been the start of their history.

after walking by the hallways of hydra, hwan eventually finds himself in one of their favorite recording studio where minseon is fast asleep. unlike other times, one where he would either wake him up and drag the sleepyhead to his rooms in which then hwan would bundle him up in a makeshift burrito blanket, or to keep him accompanied with the warm jacket the kiss studio trainee would always brings around now as a habit to keep his friend warm, the raven-haired decides to leave his friend asleep, of course after ensuring he is warm. he leaves a box of present, one he had curated with some random things that minseon would like; a guitar pick he found from a vintage shop during his last weekend trip back home in changwon, a folklore fictional book revolving around busan that he had found from a local bookstore and lastly a comfortable, warm black coloured jacket to keep him warm in place of hwan when minseon's away for hyde academy. hwan is definitely going to miss his friend of course, but at the same time rooting for him as he undergoes future trials in the form of a survival show. knowing minseon, he'll definitely strive for his best and hwan just knows he can do it. he believe in his soulmate after all.

it's a crazy concept, hwan thinks. to think of someone as their platonic soulmate. he's read all about it in books and seen it in shows yet the concept comes off foreign to him until he's met minseon. for a boy like him who barely celebrate a friend's birthday, much less his own ever since he's started acting and training, a yearly day to appreciate one's birth passes by as a mundane life. but all in all, the impact of minseon's existence has left him rooted with gratitude of one's birth.

hwan leaves the studio quietly, not without glancing once to make sure that the sleeping male, is well, still asleep. buried in that box is a letter of gratitude, along with some english quote of them being soulmates that hwan has considered hundred times over if he should include it or not, along with some well wishes of his time in the upcoming survival show and how hwan will be rooting for him and voting for him, of course. and lastly, apologizes over being late to wish. there's a few cross out sections that he had hoped it would comes off as unreadable; how he'll eventually come meeting the path of debuting alongside one another, even if they were not meant to be in the same team. how hwan would look forward to surpassing one another for being friends also meant being each other's rivals. and because hwan had highly respected minseon, not only did he want to be like minseon. he wanted to surpass him as well.

there is an undeniable drive that hwan gets from minseon, and perhaps in one way or another, hwan really had thought of minseon as his soulmate.

“soulmates aren't the ones who make you happiest, no. they're instead the ones who make you feel the most. burning edges and scars and stars. old pangs, captivation and beauty. strain and shadows and worry and yearning. sweetness and madness and dreamlike surrender. they hurl you into the abyss. they taste like hope.” ― victoria erickson