#bottom left is a peacock

[mayperhapsbe]

Heehehheehheeheeeehhhhheheeehee

My creatures…….

[ornithic]

testing out scries for the new dragon breed and hoohooHOOOOO

[sevikasfemme]

my hands are shaking from holding back from you —

— baby's first fic 🥺👉👈 !! i'm a poet and this is my first time writing a full fic for a character so of course it's about our wife, Sevika ❤️

💋you and sevika broke up a month ago; you taunt her to the point of lightly embarrassing you on a phone call with makeup sex 🤭

💋title is just direct lyrics of Dress by Taylor Swift ; fic has loose inspo/association— middle photo tile is a crop from a piece i commissioned by danacrowart❤️

content tags: lesbian sex, reader has a vagina, femme!reader, bottom!reader, top!sevika, jealousy, possessiveness, dom/sub undertones, strap-on use, impact play, implied/referenced drug use, breakup/makeup, some fluff, semi-public sex

word count: 4.6k | read on ao3 | bluesky

You and Sevika had broken up nearly a month ago. She had given you some bullshit excuse about fearing for your wellbeing because of her line of work—fucking self-sabotaging martyr that she was. You called her out on it; told her it was a stupid reason to end the relationship, and she didn’t even argue. Instead, she had the nerve to attempt to reassure you that, despite your shared social circles, things wouldn’t be awkward because the two of you would still be “best friends.” 

You later found out from Ran that there had been some threat made by a disgruntled enforcer involving you, and knowing Sevika, that was probably the impetus that led to her even considering ending things with you. Your safety being at risk. It didn’t change that you were heartbroken, angry, and tear-stained on the best of the days after she left. Not to say that she was doing much better; she’d started chain smoking between glasses of whiskey in the mornings, losing terribly in her games at the last drop; hell, she’d been too dysregulated to work the first three days following the breakup. Silco had never seen her so emotionally volatile.

Despite your heartache, you spent the weeks apart trying to forget Sevika, while all she did was mope in the memory of you—wrestling with her decision that led to her own misery. Inevitably, your friends encouraged you to ‘get back out there,’ to which you, a bit too eagerly, agreed. Were you almost solely motivated by the thrill of potentially seeing Sevika at a location she was known to frequent? Maybe. Still, you let them preen over you, hyping you up as they fawn over how pretty you look; hair and makeup done in the way you knew Sevika liked. The dress you slipped into was not one she had personally seen or had the opportunity to praise. Still, it was her favorite color— something you’d intentionally noted when you bought it out of spite, vying for the opportunity to flaunt it in her direction. It had become the catalyst in your daydreams of getting back together with her— daydreams that were borderline maladaptive, at this point... Still, if she was going to insist on remaining apart, you were going to make her regret it.

The Last Drop never changed— buzzing and neon; alive with shimmer-filled patrons whose pupils were too wide. Arms linked with your friends, letting them move you, you enter the familiar space—your eyes were trained on Sevika’s regular spots; searching for her. You hoped to see her brooding at the end of the stairwell, peacocking while she plays poker in one of the round booths, or smoking near the exit door in the back. Alas, to your disappointment, your eyes don’t find hers, and you are suddenly less interested in being out at all. 

For most of the evening, you mindlessly swipe on one of your dating apps, barely engaged in the conversation amongst your friends. You match with several mildly interesting people—you even set up a date for later that night—but you’re bored; and your eyes keep flitting around the space, hoping for a glimpse of Sevika. The hours tick by, and you’re almost ready to make your friends take you home—but then you hear her voice behind you, saying your name, her tone riddled with confusion, inquisition, and something else you can’t place. 

For a moment, everything around you seems to just stop. Your eyes lock with hers and it’s as if the last month apart never happened. 

“Why are you here?” she continues— and her tone; it doesn’t sit right with you. Your features settle into a glare, as the prior month of yearning to be with her slams to the forefront of your mind. You were pissed. You open your mouth to give her a smart-ass reply when her voice cuts you off.

“C’mere. We need to talk,” she grunts, her prosthetic fingers curling around your arm unexpectedly, drawing a noise of protest from you. You roll your eyes before letting her drag you upstairs to her office, shooting your friends a look that says, ‘I’m fine’ before she pushes you into the room and kicks the door closed. 

Now she’s scowling down at you, and you’re giving it right back to her, crossing your arms.

“A ‘hello’ would have been preferable.” you snap. Sevika doesn’t flinch or react, sighing before leaning against the door. 

“Why are you here?” she says again, although this time she almost sounds sad. 

Your expression falters only slightly before you reply harshly, “Am I not allowed to be?”

Sevika scoffs, shaking her head, her short hair falling in her face. “You never come to The Last Drop unless I’m with you. You have no interest otherwise—”

You snort, interrupting her. “That was when we were dating,” you clarify, stepping forward and tilting your head slightly to glare up at her. Her eyebrows pull into a concerned arch, her expression softening. She’s looking at you like she’s worried about you, almost making you ease up. Almost. You step closer, examining her. You still cared about her…still loved her, so of course, seeing the subtle bags under her eyes made you wonder if she was taking care of herself. 

“Are you…mad that I’m here?” you ask hesitantly, trying not to fidget with your nails. You were worried; feeling guilty for being so desperate to see her, considering your appearance at The Last Drop had made her look at you like you as if you were a ghost. Now, of course, you were ridiculing yourself for potentially hurting her more by being here. Nevertheless, you were also grappling with the fact that she broke up with you; so did she really have any right to look so distraught at your presence alone? 

She seems surprised at your question, glancing down at your almost-fidgeting fingers, and then it clicks for her; your aloof, irritable demeanor is disingenuous.  A smirk crept onto her face, and you picked up on the upward turn of her mouth. 

You scoff, stepping back away and shaking your head, “Forget I asked—” Now she’s grabbing your arm again. 

“Sweet of you to care, but m’not mad,” she mumbles, “just surprised. Thought I broke your heart,” she clicks her tongue, shaking her head and looking you over. “But clearly you’re doing just fine,” she notes, her eyes lingering on your curves too long. 

“You did break my heart– you insufferable––” You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath and rolling your eyes. You let her circle you before raising your eyebrow at her. “You don’t own the place, you know…” you protest, wanting to know what she’s thinking–what her intentions were, trying to coax it out of her. 

Sevika runs her prosthetic fingers over the strap of your dress, tugging it lightly to bring you closer to her, humming, “Interesting choice of words…” She moves to touch your face, and you swat her hand away. 

“Stop flirting; why did you drag me up here? I’m not leaving just because you’re pissed off that I’m —” 

She huffs at you, snapping the strap of your dress back to your skin, “I’m not pissed off, you brat,” she snaps, pushing you back into the door, her prosthetic arm caging you in as she leans against you, her flesh hand gripping your waist to move you slightly, then reaching behind your hip to lock the door. 

You huff back at her action, “and why are you doing that?” you ask, your eyes flicking down to her hand. Sevika laughs mockingly and runs her hand back up your side. 

“Do you want to be interrupted?” she asks, grinning at you. You look at her in disbelief, a laugh escaping you. 

“Oh no, we are not having sex,” you shake your head, “you have lost your mind if you think—” Your words die on your tongue as her hand shoots up to grip your hair, tugging your head back to look at her. 

“Say that again,” she demands lowly “Tell me, ‘we aren’t having sex’ again, and I’ll stop. I’ll stop coming to The Last Drop altogether,” she smirks, watching your eyes flicker, glazing over–briefly–before sharpening back into a glare. 'Stubborn', she thinks to herself. She chuckles at your lack of response, dropping her head to kiss at your throat. Under normal circumstances, this would be enough to make you cave, to let her throw you on her desk and submit to her like she wanted—but now? You were livid, shocked at her audacity— she broke up with you.

“You have lost it.” You hiss, pushing at her with your fists on her chest. Her gray eyes look hurt before she narrows them at you again, grabbing your chin with her prosthetic hand to make you look up at her. 

“Are you truly trying to pretend that you didn’t come here, dolled up how I like you,” she wets her lips as she eyes your dress “in this new little number, hoping to see me?” she goads, challenging you. You push at her again, and she laughs. “Admit it—you’re dressed up for me, you want me back,” she smirks. 

You turn around to try and leave through the door, fed up with her attitude as you fumble with the lock. Then you feel her grab your wrists, pinning you to the door once again, her front now pressed to your back.

“Admit it” she repeats. You shake your head, rolling your eyes, deciding to poke the bear… 

“I have a date tonight,” you snap, looking at her over your shoulder, watching her face fall into anger. It was as if you had knocked the wind out of her; she could not stand hearing that you had a date planned. The thought of someone else, the sheer potential of someone else, looking at you, touching you, kissing you, hearing you moan their name the way you moaned hers— she wanted to choke you for even suggesting that as a possibility; wanted to hold you down and remind you who you belonged to. 

“Cancel it.” She hissed. 

“No—” you snipe back immediately, your eyes flicking to your phone in your bag. 

Sevika followed your eyes, and rage struck through her as she realized you were planning to keep your date. She wasn’t thinking straight at this point, her possessiveness and jealousy pushing her over the edge. She released one of your wrists, whipping you around to face her and reaching to snatch your phone with the other. Her body was trembling from anger as she loomed above you, her dark gaze locking on yours, her expression cold. 

“Cancel your date.” She said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument, but it just eggs you on, and now you’re fully committed to pissing her off. 

“Why would I do that?” You ask innocently, your teeth dripping with saliva as you smirk at her. “You’re my ex, Sevika, I don’t have to listen to anything you say,” you sneer. Sevika blinks, shocked at your disobedience, something she was not used to in her relationship with you. 

You take it further, grinning, “What? Are you not used to hearing me tell you no?” you taunt, “maybe you should have thought about that before you—” 

SLAP.

The sound of her flesh hand connecting with your cheek is followed by buzzing silence, and you’re acutely aware of the heat pooling in your tummy. You blink back tears, your widened eyes finding hers again. She’s glaring. 'Oh fuck', you think, your face flushing pink from the sting of her slap. 

“You know better.” she says, rubbing softly at the spot on your cheek she’d smacked. You open your mouth to say something, but she’s shaking her head. Sevika grabs a fistful of your hair in her metal hand and drags you across the room, sweeping your legs up and from under you onto the couch before pushing your face into the worn linen of the cushion. 

“If you won’t cancel your date on your own–” she mumbles, lifting your ass and angrily shoving your dress up around your waist, your dampened panties now on display for her, “I’m going to help you,” she snaps, smirking down at your arousal seeping through the cotton of your underwear. You move to sit up, and she splays her fingers across your back, keeping you down. Sevika sucks her teeth, shaking her head as you hear her move her other hand to un-do her pants. That’s a sound you’re familiar with… 

“Sevika–” you protest with warning before your breath catches at the feel of her tugging your panties to the side; familiar silicone slipping up to nudge your clit. You jolt, your back arching further under her hand on your back. Sevika could not believe you had so casually refused her. She may have been the one to end things, but that was for your own safety; how could you be so oblivious to that rationale? 

It didn’t matter now, though. As far as Sevika was concerned, you were hers, and you apparently needed a reminder that no one else could give you what she could; that no one else was allowed to touch you. Her expression softens as she leans over you, nudging your ear with her nose. 

“Tell me,” she starts, a gentleness in her tone that was agonizingly familiar, “do you want me to stop?” she asks, earning a quick shake of your head as you look back up over your shoulder to meet her gaze. She smirks. “Atta girl,” she murmurs, pecking your cheek.

 “And your pretty face? you okay?” she soothes, letting her lips linger on your cheek until you nod again. Then she’s moving back up and positioning herself behind you. She bites her lip, pleased at the way your thighs spread for her as she begins prodding at you with the tip of her strap. She grunts, her hand on your back moving to dig its nails into the soft flesh of your ass.

“Fuck…” she curses under her breath, squeezing your rear before shifting her grip, opening you more for her as she slowly leans her weight into you, her eyes glued to how your pussy swallows her cock, inch by inch. Sevika’s too mesmerized to register you groaning at first, but when she hears you, she stills, rubbing her thumb over the soft skin of your ass, like she’s contemplating something. Then, suddenly, Sevika leans over you, snapping her hips so that she’s hilted inside of you completely. 

You yelp; panting as your fingers grasp onto the throw pillow your head was propped on. 'Mine', Sevika thinks to herself, pleased with your lack of protest. Sevika was fully convinced that she was the only one allowed to have you, and thinking about the reality that you had actually planned to go on a date—planned on letting someone else even look at you; it was more than she could damn well take. She was angry, jealous, desperate to remind you that you were hers; she slammed her hips into you repeatedly, not giving you an opportunity to adjust to her properly; she couldn’t. She needed you now. 

You whimper, eyes hazy and half-lidded as you look back over your shoulder at her. Sevika smirked, digging her fingers into your hips. Her breathing was becoming more and more dysregulated as she picked your phone back up, thumbing through your messages. She looks at you smugly.

“Do you still want to go on that date?” she asked; a syrupy, taunting sweetness in her tone as she pushed her hips against you in a hard and possessive thrust. You whine, shaking your head, unable to form words. Sevika laughs, leaning down over you again, her body covering your own as her hand tugged at your hair. 

“No?” she growls against your ear, her lips trailing against the side of your jaw “Why the change of heart, hm?” she mocks. 

A breathy, “Just want you, Sev–” leaves your parted lips; your cheeks flush with embarrassment at how easy you were for her. Your gasped confession, combined with the fact that you used her nickname, made her heart rate elevate. She knew exactly how to break you; how to make you submit. 

“What was that?” she whispered against your neck, her breath hot against your skin as she continued to softly pound into you. You groan in embarrassed frustration, struggling to form words. In your blissed-out state, you fail to notice her tabbing over to the contact of the date you had set up, and pressing down on the call button. 

Sevika couldn’t help but smirk as she did so, hearing the line start to ring. It was such a petty thing to do, but she couldn’t deny the feeling of satisfaction she got at the idea of cutting your date short before it even started. She wanted to hear you try to tell your date that you were no longer available. 

The butch remained over you, still thrusting, and held the phone to your ear. Your eyes widen and you try to silence yourself, tucking your head into the throw pillow to muffle your moans. She grinned as she saw your head turn. 

“No,” she said firmly, yanking back on your hair to pull your face out of the pillow. “Don’t you dare hold your voice back, baby.” You freeze when you hear your date’s voice on the other line as they pick up.

“Hello?” they greet, and you bite down on your lip to quiet yourself. Sevika’s smug expression remained plastered on her face as she heard them pick up. She nipped at your opposite ear, whispering to you as your date repeated their greeting, trying to get a response from you. 

“Tell them you can’t go on your date tonight,” she instructs, no longer thrusting into you, only grinding continuously, the tip of her strap rubbing deep inside you, bumping your cervix lewdly. You hesitate, and Sevika tuts, moving the hand that was gripping your hair to wrap around your throat.

“Don’t make me repeat myself—” she hissed, pulling almost entirely out of your cunt before quickly shoving herself back into you, causing you to squeak. You try, you truly try, to keep your tone even as you speak.

“H-hey—” you start, clearing your throat, “I—” 

Sevika is laughing against your ear, her hips slowly picking up pace, wanting to hear you struggle to tell them you couldn’t go. Needing to hear it. She squeezed your throat a little, encouraging you to continue. You swallow thickly, eyes rolling softly before you try to speak again.

“I’m so – ah– M’so sorry—” you stammer out. “I need to raincheck our—our—” 

Sevika chuckles at you struggling, licking the shell of your ear. “What was that, doll? I don’t think your date heard you properly.” She teased, letting go of your throat and running her hand down to palm at your breast. Your cheeks are burning pink, and you struggle to stop yourself from moaning out her name. 

“I’m just— n-not able to go tonight—” you pant through suppressed whimpers. Sevika felt a wave of possessive satisfaction rush through her, her pupils dilating. She was greedy, though, and found herself needing to drive the point home harder. She nibbles at your ear again.

“Who are you canceling this date for?” she demands. You whimper, cheeks hot as you try to avoid her question; you knew what she was doing. She hums, nipping at your earlobe and neck, her lips sloppily sucking at you. “Who? Hm?” she repeats. You couldn’t contain yourself any longer. 

“Sevika—” you moan sweetly, head dropping on the pillow again and eyes fluttering closed as you succumbed to the pleasure she was giving you, knowing your, now canceled-on date had definitely heard your erotic declaration. 

Sevika kissed your ear as she heard the moan you finally let slip after trying desperately to keep your voice in check. She moved her hand to tease at your now swollen clit, causing you to yelp. She put the phone up to her ear, ego-tripping on the way your back was arching to meet her thrusts as she spoke.

“Sorry,” she practically purred into the mic of the cellphone, her tone sardonic. “She won’t be able to make it on that date tonight. Something…came up,” she said as she imagined the confusion on your date’s face at the sound of her voice, but it was all the more satisfying when you whimpered again. She continued to speak, her fingers rubbing tight, slow circles over your twitching bundle nerves. 

“Yeah,” Sevika breathes, her own eyes half-lidded now, squeezing harshly on your clit and moaning when you jerk back on her in response, “yeah, she’s quite busy.” 

You’re keening, looking over your shoulder again to pout up at her, your cheeks rosy—embarrassed by the pornographic squelching of your cunt wrapped around her cock.​​ She caught your gaze, her eyes softening at yours as she pressed firmly on your clit again, chiding as she shook her head, her mouth pulling away from the receiver of the phone to direct her words to you. 

“Aww, baby, what’s that pout for, hm?” she coos. “Blushing because they can hear you taking it like the good girl I know you are?” 

Your lip wobbles, overstimulated and flustered; a strained cry passes your lips –“Please—no more—” 

Sevika takes pity on you, and her touch becomes gentle as she puts the phone in front of your face, her thumb hovering over the button to switch to a video call. You shriek and duck your head back into the pillow.

“Ohmygod Sev!” you protest, causing her to laugh and press a kiss to your shoulder before ending the call, tossing the phone aside. 

“Just messin’ with you, princess,” she hums, rubbing her hand soothingly through your hair before gripping at the roots, tugging your face up. “Now,” she sighs, slipping out of you and using her grip on your hair to guide you onto your back. You whimper in protest, feeling painfully empty as you pout up at her.

“What did I say about pouting, hm?” she scolds, tracing your bottom lip with her thumb. You blush under her stare, suddenly self-conscious without the distraction of the phone call. Her lip twitches into a grin as she slips her copper claws under your dress, scratching lightly at the soft fat of your torso. Your eyebrows turn upward, and your eyes close, mouth agape as you try to find words again. Sevika kisses at your jaw.

“Flattered you wore this just for me,” she coos, “but I wanna see you, honey,” she says softly, rubbing her hands up and down your sides before tugging up the hem of your dress. “Arms up, babygirl,” she instructs, slipping it up and off, immediately groaning at the sight of you, bra-less, left only in your underwear before her. Her lips are instantaneously on your neck, hands cupping your chest eagerly. 

“Missed you, baby—” she mutters into your throat. You wanted to deny her, to punish her in some way for ever leaving you in the first place, but you were too far gone, you just wanted to be close to her. Sevika slips your panties off before hiking your legs up around her hips, pressing her forehead to yours as she thrust back into you, moaning softly. Your arms come to wrap around her neck, burying your face into the dip of her shoulder. Sevika hums lowly at you clinging to her.

“M’sorry, angel,” she mumbles into your hair, kissing at your head as she fucks into you. You knew what she meant. She had clearly missed you too. 

“You– better be—” you choke out, your lower lip still puffed out slightly. Sevika moves to hold your throat, rubbing her thumb over your pulse before reaching down to roll one of your peaked nipples between her fingers, her hips snapping to you rhythmically.

“Fuck, baby—” she moans, “taking me so good— so good, angel,” she praises, moving to press two of her organic fingers against your plush lips.

“Open,” she commands. You don’t argue— your mouth parts and she slips her fingers into your mouth. “Suck,” she orders, pinching your other nipple before trailing her hand down between your legs, tapping on your clit several times as she watches you jerk from the stimulation from her prosthetic, the cold metal sending streams of isolated pleasure through you. 

She chuckles, bringing her lips to kiss at your neck—her hips were grinding into you, her thumb was on your clit, her flesh fingers were pumping in and out of your mouth, and you were seeing stars. Sevika sucks on the sensitive skin at the base of your throat, biting harshly, earning a muffled yelp from your full mouth, before laving at the spot with her tongue; soothing you. 

You paw at her shoulders, feeling overstimulated and too close to orgasm to speak, your eyes rolling as you mewl on her fingers. Sevika’s biting turns to kissing on your neck. 

“Close, hm?” she mutters against you, panting as she withdraws her fingers from your mouth, moving her right hand to work at your clit, pinching it suddenly when she pulls her metal digits up to hold you by the back of your head, tilting you so that you’re looking at her.

“You’re mine, understand me, angel?” she says firmly, drinking in the sight of you; disheveled hair, pink cheeks, mouth agape, and dilated pupils. You nod weakly, your back arching sporadically as you feel your orgasm cresting. 

She kisses your lips briefly before letting her head fall to your neck “Come for me, princess,” she encourages. “Need to feel my girl’s pretty pussy come for me,” she coos. 

Her words send you over, a strangled cry leaving your throat as you cling to her, legs trembling as your cunt clenches around her cock, your climax crashing over you; clit throbbing from Sevika’s attention. 

Sevika moans, biting down on your neck to ground herself as she continues to softly rut into you, letting you ride out your release. Her eyes flick up to stare in awe at how your lip trembles as you try to regulate your breathing. Her hips eventually still, and she releases your neck from her teeth, beginning to pepper kisses over your face, bringing both her hands to cup your cheeks. 

“My girl,” she mutters into your skin. You melt into her touch, mind still reeling from the fact that she had canceled your date in such an inflammatory way. She seems to pick up on your thoughts, and she laughs, nuzzling into your neck and sighing. 

“I’m not dumb enough to let you go twice… if you’ll still have me…” she murmurs, sounding much more vulnerable and much less cocky now. You smile, smirking softly as you scratch softly at her scalp. 

“I’ll always have you, Sev,” you reassure her, kissing her forehead. “And for the record…” you start, slyly, as she looks up at you, eyebrows raised.“I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” you say matter-of-factly. She lets out a breathy laugh, shaking her head affectionately as she pulls you into another kiss.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

last set of tsumsitter ssr groovies 👀

THE TIME HAS COME

First is Pomefiore!! (Edit: The initial version of this Groovy is on the left; Rook is missing the golden Pomefiore markings on his robes. There was an update to fix this. The updated version is on the right.)

The trio is framed by a border of colorful lights, which reminds me a lot of old-fashioned movie theater signs (though not as colorful). If you look closely at the top and bottom, it seems they are posed for a candid photograph and it’s being posted to Magicam or something?? Rook and Epel look super crisp here, which I love!! I think Epel is posing with his hands held behind his back. This paired with his smile and the slight bird’s eye view of his face makes him look super cute please don’t beat me up for saying that, Epel. And Rook is being showy and familiar as usual, even putting one hand on Vil’s shoulder. Vil isn’t cringing or uncomfortable with it, which goes to show that he and Rook are truly good friends.

As for Vil, it’s rare to see him posed casually like this. Most of his cards feature him posed in very “model”-like and mature ways, so to have just one hand on hip, leaning forward slightly, and gripping his grimoire is unique for him (I mostly associate this pose with Ace, lol). His smile is quite casual too—it’s not quite the full catty smirk he has in his live2D model, it’s a lot more subtle and playful.

BahacTeHWWRVwkkwwm YHE VIL TSUM STeALS THE SHOW ThoUGH 😭 (You can tell it’s smiling despite the lack of a visible mouth) from how its eyes!! The placement of the Tsum is also funny. With Pomefiore’s peacock throne in the background, it forms sort of an angelic halo around… the sentient stuffed toy… Proof that Tsum Vil is a heavenly being/j

Next is Ignihyde!!

The Shroud brothers return to Cyberspace, that blue void with tons of ethereal floating screens, particle effects, and code www I don’t know what those three pink balls of flame are in the background, but there being three of them is a consistent theme for Ignihyde. Three pink fireballs, three Shroud brothers, three heads of Cerberus! I wish I could say more here, but I’m basically a Malleus when it comes to tech—

Idia’s pose isn’t anything we haven’t seen before (just at different angles of it, I suppose). But!! It feels different here and adding Ortho definitely adds to it. The Pokémon trainer energy of the initial art carries over to the Groovy. Idia looks like a smug, tough trainer looking down on you with a cocky grin and his face half-shadowed.

Ortho floats almost menacingly next to his big brother, his face entirely shadowed. His aura is like a phantom (fitting) or even like a Pokémon on standby waiting for the chance to fire off a Hyper Beam. This might be me overthinking things, but I wonder if the amount of light on the brothers’ faces references the original Ortho. Robo!Ortho’s face is entirely darkened because his parallel has passed on. Idia’s face is only partially shadowed because while he was close to stepping over to the “other side”, he ultimately found hope and was able to continue living, this time for himself and on his own terms.

I LIKE HoW TSUM IDIA HAS ITS OWN sCREEN TO WORK OFF OF TOO 😭 IBRO IS MAkING A sUS FACE TOO, IT’S GLEEfUL AbOUT WhAtEVRr it’S UP TO… That makes me think that it’s hard at work… I dunno, hacking something systems fnksgwiwozlapaeb Watch out, a Tsum near you might infect your computer and then bounce away happily after ruining all your programs and files.

Last but not least… Diasomnia!! THIS ONE’S MY fAVORITE OF THE SSR TSUMSITTER GROUP, WHICH I WAs NOT EXPecTING AT ALL 🤡

The violet backlight is fantastic—it adds an interesting lighting to the illustration and highlights the green flames and Silver and Sebek’s bright eyes. And speaking of Sebek and Silver, LOOK AT THEM JUST LOOK AT THEM???????? More specifically, Sebek’s arms (they look ultra meaty somehow) and Silver’s whole face(that lopsided smile??? HELLO?????)!! On either side of Malleus like that… Peak bodyguard, I REPEAT, PEAK BODYGUARD

With Lilia bringing up the rear, the three form a perfect squad to surround and to protect their liege. cbsjsbevejwlw I like that Lilia is different than Silver and Sebek; he’s hanging out upside down (as he usually does) and bears a huuuge grin, completely having fun in the moment. (… How does his hat stay on like that when he’s fighting gravity though?)

Up front and center is Malleus of course! He’s wielding his spindle staff like a king might a scepter. This with his fierce face gives the impression of a leader marching into battle with his retainers. You get a real good shot of his teeth and reptilian eyes here which I’m sure the Malleus stans are going feral for right now—and with the limelight shining down on him, he looks almost hopeful for once instead of downtrodden or gloomy.

THE TSUM MALLEUS LOOKS SO FUNKY PLACED tHERE cnsnwveuxvDFsFjqk Just. Cheekily There on Malleus’s shoulder… Because Maleficent and Diablo is a known combination, the image of those two as master and minion comes to mind. Imagine Malleus blasting you with lightning, pausing to listen to his Tsum whispering a suggestion into his ear, and then telling you the Tsum has advised that he blast you with a second strike 💀

Aaaaaah, the Tsumsitter SSR Groovies are some of the best in this game 😭 So glad they’re finally over though, it’s stressful saving rolls for what you know would be a limited event with multiple SSR banners, lol

[arc-misadventures]

A Feather In The Cap

Jaune: Coco! I have done it!

Coco: Done what?

Jaune: I have found you a fashion item that you never knew you wanted!

Coco: And, that is?

Jaune: A helmet!

Coco: A helmet?

Jaune: Yeah, a helmet!

Coco: Jaune darling, you know I love you.

Jaune: Nawww... I love you too, Coco~!

Coco: You're my: "If I had to pick a dude," guy.

Jaune: You mean 'picked.'

Coco: Shutup!

Jaune: Sorry.

Coco: But, do you seriously see a girl like me wearing a helmet?!

Jaune: Whoa hold on, I'm not telling you to wear a hound helm, or, gods forbid a bucket helmet! No no no, Nothing like that!

Coco: Then what kind of helmet would you make me wear?

Jaune: Something like these:

Coco: ...?!

Jaune: So... what do you think?

Coco: ...?

Coco: I would take the bottom right helmet, with that brown leather colour of the top left helmet. With golden trim, or rivets along the helmet. And, a peacock feather, maybe three in the feather slot on the side.

Jaune: Why not an ostrich feather? You have to give it a far more flamboyant charm to it all!

Coco: Oh.. that would look better! You see, things like your knowledge in woman's fashion is among the main reasons why I want to have your kids~!

Jaune: You want my what?!

Coco: ...?!

Coco: Oh fuck...

[felassan]

The Art of Dragon Age: The Veilguard Deluxe edition (DA:TV artbook bonus stuff). [source, via]

"The deluxe edition features: - An elegant foil-stamped slipcase and cover - Gilded pages - A ribbon book marker - Two lithographic art prints housed in a sleek portfolio" [source]

It looks like the two lithographic prints are this mural (which is from the 2020 TGA teaser iirc) and this art of Solas with a wolf by Matt Rhodes (which is from the Gamescom 2020 video iirc). The packaging's color theme-ing is black and gold, reminding of this version (that pic is from 2021) of the game's branding/color theme-ing, and also of course bringing to mind the Golden/Black City. the Golden/Black City was featured on the vinyl cover arts.

The knife here on this cover looks like the 'blue lyrium' [?] dagger, but also simultaneously not like it.

This artbook cover one is more gnarled in appearance and the 'ring' of the handle isn't complete (the way the 'broken' handle could almost be an Evanuris headpiece-shape... if it was a bit more symmetrical, it would look like Elgar'nan's headpiece).

It has extra spiky bits protruding off it too and it looks like something is growing on it. Maybe this is what happens if/when the blue [lyrium?] dagger becomes red (Blighted)? because this gnarled kinda vibe reminds me a bit of Meredith's sword Certainty in DA2, and of that body horror way in which red lyrium growth looks on people. It also reminds me of the tendrils of Blight corruption on walls and the ground and stuff in DA:TV screenshots, and the gnarled red lyrium darkspawn we've seen (look at this darkspawn's back for example).

Or maybe there's simply more than one dagger? There's two rising Evil Gods.

in the background of that image is the now-familiar geometric patterning with the concentric rings around the outside that tend to represent the Veil, and also the multiple almooost-overlapping circles/spheres inside that is suggestive of an eclipse* (something which we can see in the DA:TV screenshot with the dragon, which keeps coming up, which speaks to a lot of the pertinent imagery/symbolism e.g. Elgar'nan overthrowing his father the Sun and darkening the sky, and something which to me makes sense in a Witcher-style Conjunction of the Spheres kinda vibe, multiple realms colliding, like, if you tear down the Veil, you're bringing two 'bodies' or realms together to 'overlap' once again - the Fade and the waking world). [*in the 'eclipse' link there it's just searching the word on my blog btw, since I've banged on and on about that lots before and I don't wanna repeat myself loads in this post hhh]. the placement of the dagger over that design and what it represents makes sense; as we saw in the gameplay reveal video, the dagger was part of Solas' ritual to tear down the Veil/move the Evanuris prison.

On this cover, we can see two eyeballs in two of the corners (the eyes remind me of the Inquisition hairy eyeball, the eye motifs cropping up around Lucanis, Pride, and the Fade peacock feather/eye motif [image from this post]). in the other two corners is a sword that reminds again of Certainty. Meredith brandishing the sword is part of this DA:TV mural in the bottom left, underneath Ghil. surely not a coincidence. :D maybe a Certainty-like sword is the final corrupted form of the dagger, or one of them? in TN, the red lyrium idol changed shape enough that a ritual-blade sprang from its base.

the background of this middle cover also contains triangles, reminding of ancient elven artifacts and ancient elven magic-tech (like with Bellara, the Veil Jumpers etc) and the recurring triangle symbols in DA art around Fade/Veil/magic-y stuff (example from the Tevinter Nights map below).

The cover on the right has more geometric patterns, circles, rings etc. (all these patterns remind of the art in the vinyl booklet btw). and, in the center, the eye again. 👁️

[kiame-sama]

Azul's fry are very small after they first hatch. Their eggs (fully formed) are the size of golf balls. When they hatch, most already have hair and vibrant colors, but they are incredibly small still as they had to fit inside of the egg. So they don't get lost or hurt, most Merfolk put their young in tanks with lids so the young can't escape. It is all too easy for fry to get caught in ocean currents and dragged out where they are not safe (how Azul lost most of his siblings) especially in terms of Octopus fry who are already poor swimmers.

When Azul's fry are young/eggs, they need to be kept submerged, so Azul will likely be back in the Coral Sea with his fry and the Eel twins. Their tank is rather large but it is kept closed unless Azul (or the Human) is visiting with the fry and taking care of them. The tank stays sealed so the fry don't get loose and get injured, eaten, or stolen. When they grow bigger- about the size of human infants- they will move out of the tank and into their own octopus pots. Azul is extremely stressed at all times that someone- *cough* poachers *cough cough*- might try to steal his fry. They always swim up to see Azul or the Human any time the tank is unsealed and will often seek refuge in Azul's hair or the Human's hair if they can. They feel safer with their parents nearby and will often hide among their tank decor if anyone other than Azul or the Human tries to open the tank.

In the Harem Route, The fry are often visited by Jade who adores the many colors and has actually befriended most of Azul's fry. The only one of Azul's fry that Jade has not managed to win over is the one that looks most like Azul as that one is more skittish and refuses to come to the top of the tank to see anyone other than the Human or Azul.

I have Names and Genders for the Octo-fry already, and I took inspiration from the tale of Triton and his Seven children representing the Seven Seas, hence why Azul gets Seven fry.

- Female Ursulana (deep sea octopus w/ rainbow bioluminescence) *top middle*

- Female Morganita (Mandarin fish) *middle*

- Female Erythra (Nudibranch) *bottom right, center*

- Female Adriana (Peacock Mantis Shrimp) *far right*

- Female Thalassia (Jelly fish, Magenta, purple, blue) *top left*

- Female Cerulina (Betta fish) *bottom left center*

- Female Azura (Cuttlefish) *bottom left*

[valkariel]

Sunlit Daydream

Head: Atrophy Chapeau - rhotano blue / default Body: Seneschal Prince's Jacket - pure white / rhotano blue Hands: Idealized Estoqueur's Gloves - pearl white / default Legs: Idealized Estoqueur's Bottoms - rhotano blue / default Feet: Ishgardian Thighboots - default / default

Earring: Yuweyawata Earrings of Casting Neck: Edenmorn/Edenmete Necklace of Casting Wrists: The Emperor's New Bracelet Right Ring: The Emperor's New Ring Left Ring: The Emperor's New Ring

Main Hand: Majestic Manderville Degen Matte Replica - peacock blue Off Hand: --

Fashion Accessory: -- Minion: -- Mount: -- Location: Terncliff

Shader: Faeberry Bokeh

[rubykgrant]

Fan-art of @kianamaiart 's "I Don't Want to be a Magical Girl" Aika, with different magical themes! Her original form is Star Guardian, Guardian of the Stars, and I wanted to play around with other concepts (each outfit hints at the theme a little, but also still looks like something a regular kid would wear, so the Magical Girl form would be more extravagant. I also did slightly different hairstyles)

Top to bottom, left to right; Origial Stars, Hearts, Flames, Ocean, Unicorn, Halloween, Peacock, Forest, Jester, Musical~

Hearts theme would be like a magical Cupid, so her hair buns are now heart-shaped (with an outfit that is a bit like a frilly valentine). Flames is naturally all about fire (maybe it would have a fire bird/phoenix in the magical design), and her hair has extra high-lights to look like fire. Ocean is all about water/deep sea, her hair pulled up with beads that look like pears, with the curls ore textured to kinda look like the bubble spray of waves. Unicornis a bit of a combo-inspiration of Princess Serenity and Amalthea from the Last Unicorn (her hair buns now a pale lilac color, and shaped with the rounded-points like Chibiusa), and her magical form would have a decorative horn on her forehead. Halloween has one single orange bun to resemble a pumpkin, and the rest of the outfit has autumn colors/candycorn vibes. Peacock has the hair pulled all pulled back with ribbons/bows, and locs that has color high-lights on the ends. Forest is all forms of plants/flowers/trees, and her hair is up in two braided buns that make a floral shape. Jester has shades of purple, the hair done in four short braids (like a harlequin hat) with beads (the magical form would be like a grand jester with different patterns). Musical has a shirt with a pattern of piano keys, the hair styled to be tied in rounded ponytails that resemble musical notes.

Pose referenced from the animated pilot-

[daylighted]

ㅤTHE SON OF THE SEAㅤandㅤTHE DAUGHTER OF THE DEEP.

SUMMARY ㅤtwo sirens walk into a bar . . . ㅤWARNINGSㅤ( 18+!! )ㅤsiren ! dean & siren ! readerㅤDEAN IS SO ARROGANT 😭ㅤhooking up in a bar bathroom which is icky gross :/ㅤunprotected p in v (they're half fish forgive them </3)ㅤNOTESㅤsorry ive been slacking on writing lately i have no excuse except to blame the economy. pls have this as an apology it is a silly lil idea i got

there was something about you that dean winchester could not fucking shake.

moe's seaside grill was always his place, you know. he'd walk between those saloon style doors dragging in sand clinging to the bottom of his newly acquired golden tan legs, he'd ruffle his saltwater curled deep blonde hair with a hand that must have shimmered in the light, catching the very small peeks of iridescent black scales that he never truly bothered to hide, and the women who frequented the place just for him would fall to their very knees.

some guys, too, though dean didn't pay them much attention unless he was starved and knew he could get away with ditching their bones along with the other litterings of fish skeletons and crab shells and lobster tails in the dumpster outside of the grill.

you were a new face. dean loved new faces. the girls got so boring because the song and dance that they fell into trying to peacock around him was always the same. the siren call of his voice and invitation of his green-gold eyes couldn't give the same targets variety, and it wasn't their fault or his fault that there basic instincts, without fail every time he walked in, were to just repeat their same routine.

he'd tried to ignore you. really, he did. he didn't like when girls stared too long without approaching him, and you were seriously lacking respect in that department, not even bothering to hide the way you studied him. studied! as if there was more to him that mattered to you besides what his cock felt like inside of you.

the problem with dean was that he thought he was hot shit. he wasn't one of these people in this little tourist trap on the shoreside of the ocean. he wasn't even a local. he popped out of his little home in the sea when he got hungry or desperate or both, and he picked and chose like the world was a frequently changing menu. he did not consider if they had families, or if they had spouses, or if they were here on spring break or using well-earned vacation days.

he cared that they wanted to fuck him, and he was always trying to quelch that eternal thirst within him, never quite getting there. that's why he devoured the men, see; it was just wrong to eat a woman in a way that wouldn't make her squeal in pleasure and curl her toes into the wet sand as if the ocean cared about what a woman who posted bikini pics in its waters just to piss off her ex did.

no, the ocean answered to him. the ocean liked him. it fed him, gave him sanctuary. and because he'd effectively scared off any other siren like him to find their own turf, he thought he could command the rest of the world to bend to his will, too.

except for you. which pissed him off a little, considering dean was actively sparing your life. he could eat your heart out. he could suck the life source out of you through your mouth or through your pussy and leave you as nothing but a husk of a person, left to rot and die. but he didn't. wasn't that so nice of him?

and all you could do as a thank you was stare at him like you knew his legs were only temporary, like you knew he had a special rock tucked away out of sight where he'd made love to more women than you'd probably ever met on - and devoured more men than you'd probably ever have the misfortune of meeting, too.

it was some grace of god miracle that he got you away from the crowded bar and into a bathroom stall. he'd seriously never had to work so hard to seduce someone in his life. even then, he wasn't certain that you weren't just playing along with his games, still, considering you hadn't once tried to rip off his cloth shorts yet. he was seriously supposed to just... take his time? savor this?

"your eyes are so..." you break apart from his mouth once more, and dean thinks he could actually fucking cry. this was not supposed to be slow and patient, he was supposed to be balls deep in you, kissing your open mouth just enough to swallow the traces of your pleasure down into his throat.

dean deadpans, giving you his best attempt at a smile. "i know."

"no, i mean--"

"no, i know." he catches the bottom of your dress in one hand, eyebrow raising as he starts to lift it up. "off?"

you don't protest, instead giving him a little smile as you nod, which is at least some sign that you were into him. kind of? at least into this. maybe he needed some sort of pill or something to get his allure back up, which would be fucking crazy, and even if that was the case, you wouldn't catch him dead taking that. no, he just needed a little time. a little extra effort, and he'd have you salivating over those eyes you were drawn to.

he's not slow or patient, so off really meant lifted, and your dress spilled over your thighs and his waist as he tugged his still in tact shorts down to midthigh and slammed between your legs in one fell swoop.

maybe he should have went for the hard-to-get ones more. you felt so fucking good wrapped around him, your wet pussy squelching around him through each tight thrust of his hips. the metal stall's door rattled in its hinges, only held steady sometimes when you clenched your fists around the top of it.

you were really pretty like this. he was so damn distracted. first he couldn't seduce you with his abilities, had to rely on the old trick of the trade human interaction to get you into this stall or whatever, and now he couldn't draw his eyes away from yours.

this was a sick joke. it's not your fault that he's having a bad day, but the slam of his cock into your fluttering walls would make you think he was punishing you. dean doesn't even bother to stifle the mewls or the sharp moans you let out, either - let everyone in this place know how good he could treat a pretty girl who made him work so hard.

your hand falls down to his shoulder, digging into his skin with your pretty painted nails, and dean hisses under his breath, hoisting your legs up higher around his waist to fit in between them better. his head tips forward to hide between your shoulder and your neck, tongue darting out to taste the traces of salt on your skin.

you tasted so damn good too, as pretty as you looked, and now he wasn't even paying any mind to the fact he was supposed to be feeding from you. he was supposed to lick into your mouth and let you finally take the bait of his siren call, giving your everything to him just to make him happy. he was supposed to savor this part, the part where he went and he went and he went, until your legs gave out and you couldn't string together a sentence, just so he could get the most he could from you.

he was staring at your eyes. gold in them, in the light. if he wasn't so distracted by how tightly your cunt squeezed around him, he'd have put it together sooner, but alas, he's just a man. not just a man, but one who actually needed pussy to live. in a way. well, there were certainly other ways to keep him afloat, but he really liked the way where he'd get to fuck someone.

you nudge his head up to kiss him, and he's seriously done for then. his back hits one of the stall walls, his thrusts slowing, as he let you fuck yourself against the aching cock buried inside of you. forget whatever the hell he wanted. seriously. he'd give you every single thing on this planet to see your eyes glitter like they were.

he tilts his chin up to kiss the corner of your mouth, his dark eyelashes fluttering as he takes in every inch of your face and your expressions. "your eyes are so..."

"so...?" you ask, tilting your head to the side, and the smile you give him is devastating. so completely devastating. like this was a first date, and your fingers brushed over the table -- not like you were torturing him with the slow grind of your hips up and down his hardness.

"i don't even know."

you kiss him again, slower, like you're savoring every taste of his saliva whereas he was drowning. on his lips, you say, "i'm really close," panting it into his mouth like you were dazed, those parted lips of yours just round enough to fit his cock between them, if you wanted him to.

hell, he was a mess. he barely drew enough awareness back into himself to focus, to understand that those words were exactly what he wanted to hear but also not, because he wanted this to go on longer, he didn't want to stop until he physically couldn't.

your back hits the other side of the stall wall again, and he's stepped back behind the reins again now. your legs are secured around his waist and his palms hold your hips in place as he rams himself into you, over and over again, the obscene sound of skin against skin and the drenching of your juices making the invasion that much easier.

he knocks his forehead against yours, never close enough to you, his mouth brushing against yours as you wrap your arms around his neck tightly to keep him there. it's not much longer later that you choke on a scream, barely muffling it into his mouth when you steal one final kiss.

there is something about that kiss. he's not usually so easy to get off, never really focusing on himself until the very end of a very long night since he didn't get fed from his own arousal. that'd be too easy.

but your lips touch his and your tongue laps at his and, seriously, he came on the spot. he's never done that before. he's not a teenager, especially not a fucking human one. but here he was, arms somehow going weak from the force of it, as he tries to stay coherent enough to lazily push his hips up and up into you so it stayed inside.

"that was really fun," you say, so fucking giddily like his lungs didn't feel raw and his cock didn't ache, somehow. one round? seriously? was he genuinely going to have to get some sort of siren arousal pill to keep up like he used to before this?

dean gives you a weak little laugh. "yeah, yeah," he breathes, and you slip off of him like that act alone wasn't too fucking much when he was this sensitive. he was a goddamn wreck. "hey, so what's your--"

you adjust your dress again, and he watches the shift in your eyes, how they once glimmered gold and had now melted back into something more mundane. you were still dropdead gorgeous, but there was something about you now than two seconds ago that felt a little more human.

his face falls. your grin widens.

"i'll tell you next time," you say with a wink, sauntering toward the locked bathroom door with so much arrogance in your strut that he can't look away. dean hated you, he thought. no one should be that pretty and so damn manipulative.

but, really, same could apply for him, so he didn't voice any of that out loud. his irrational hate would just exist inside of him where his soul was assumedly supposed to be. big gap to fill. it was perfect.

"and dean?" you're half out the door, the gold gleam in your eyes back and captivating, so utterly, devastatingly, captivating. "it's not nice to scare the rest of us away. some of us have sharp teeth and bite back."

well, it was going to happen eventually, wasn't it? he just didn't expect the siren most offended by his possessive dictatorship here at moe's to be so pretty.

he'd have to exercise these legs more often. just in case you came back again. especially if you came back again.

notes. siren!dean has been in my head for like 2 days now pls I JUST THINK THIS IS SO FUNNYYYY 😭 i love him down bad i'm afraid. everyone cross ur fingers that this short lil thing pulls me out of this writing slump & i can get back to daddy dadsbsf!jackles soon

tags. @deansbeer @titsout4jackles @figthoughts @bejeweledinterludes @funkycoloured @whyyouegg + anyone else i have to redo my taglist so sorry if u aren't listed </3

[umhwarmglitterstory]

Ladybird, Ladybird

||Jake Sully & Daughter reader || Miles Quaritch x f!reader ||

| Mature | Depictions of violence | Depictions of blood and gore | Near death experience | Mentions of a suicide |

Chapter 3

(<- Chapter 2) (Ladybird, Ladybird masterlist)

•••

Tommy hadn't written his will, because why would he? But he had signed stuff at work, stuff that made Jake, obviously, the grantee of most of his possessions.

Two boxes arrived at the apartment. Tommy's. Jake had left them in the living room, but pushed them deep, almost invisible, behind the couch.

He wouldn't mind.

But you still tip toed around it, inspecting the treasures while Jake was out, and Mrs. Veenani was at the kitchen.

A fancy button up that you didn't remember ever seeing, a team's sport shirt, a baseball cap, an old datapad. Several crystal plates, ‘Exo-Biologist’ engraved in cursive on one of them.

Behind the crystals, your eyes moved to the colorful picture under. First, a book with a peacock illustration, green 'eye’ feathers weaving through the book’s title “The world through her poetry”, second a textured dark blue one, with a yellow cat eye on a corner, “The Na'vi” what's all it said, G.A at the bottom.

And finally, another book. Brand new, the cover shiny and perfect, some strange dandelion seeds and a blurry forest scenery behind it. “Pandora’s brain: Introduction to the life and ecosystems of the moon” again G.A at the bottom. You picked it up, it was pretty and new and you could give it some use at school.

Late at night Jake came back, used to the scene of you and Mrs Veenani watching her series on the living room screen, even if way past your bedtime. Mrs Veenani gave Jake a sobering stare, and no greetings exchanged. She was mad at him ever since Tommy's funeral. You heard them arguing, you thought, after he came home from a long meeting with Tommy's coworkers, some men in black suits.

“You can't” you heard her say. “You can't, Jake, no”

After Mrs Veenani left, Jake sat close to you, her chair besides the couch, you high enough to see him face to face.

“What you got there, kid?” He asked, looking at the book on your lap. It had turned out to be rather useless. Too complicated and weird, and not a single thing you could use for your classes.

He picked it up, browsing the pages, a frown forming as he read further “Where, where did you get this?”

“Tommy” You said, looking at the boxes behind you. Jake stared at them too, for a long quiet minute.

“Got yourself a thing” He commented with a warm smile. You nodded “He always gave me books” You said, thinking of your favorite one, with a fluffy grey goose on a red background.

From start to end it had been like that: from a children's alphabet book -back when mom first introduced him-, to this year, the very last one, on your ninth birthday, a smart pager ai with earth's animals, all of them. You had been feeling guilty, these days, that you had liked Jake's gift so much more, half a day at the amusement park.

“They're yours” He said, patting your head. Then you noticed it, that thing with his mouth, pursing and biting his lip, faintly opening and closing his lips, as if lost at words.

You giggled “What?” You asked

“What?” He repeated

You pushed his head back by the chin, still giggling, “You have something to say”

Jake gave a smile, the sad one, the only one he had since he lost his ability to walk.

He stared at his hands on his lap “That I do, kid”

“What? What is it?” You asked

Jake kept looking at his lap, his face changing and raising his eyebrows, but he didn't look up at you

“There's this thing, uh… Something came up. I uh, I…”

He stopped there, quiet and looking down, and you were too scared to ask, you took your thumb up to chew, just for a second, dropping your hand back down right away, hoping Jake hadn't noticed, quickly using your other hand to clean the visible saliva in your finger.

Eventually he cleared his throat, and looked up at you. “I need to make this trip. This, uh, journey. Far away”

Oh no, please, please not.

“Where?!” You asked.

Jake smiled again, and this time it really irritated you. He pointed a finger at your book. What? The library? The forest? Tommy? You shook your head.

“There” He said, tapping his finger over the dandelion thing you now knew was called ‘atokirina’. You scowled and shook your head again. Jake grunted

“Pandora, you know? The planet?”

“With the aliens?!”

You eagerly asked, not even bothering to correct him. A moon, it was.

All your worry dissolved “That's so cool! When?”

“Uh… tomorrow” why did he not look excited?

“Can I go with you?!”

He full on grimaced, like that time you yelled ‘fucking cunt’ at the school reunion.

He barely shook his head, in silence, again. “I'm sorry” He said eventually, and then you heard it, a sniffle “You cant- you cant come with me”

“Oh, Okay. Its okay!” You quickly assured it sucked, sure, but it wasn't that bad.

Your eyes watered a little, nonetheless, by mirroring him. “So, how long will you be there?” You asked, wanting to move on with the conversation, leave behind the sniffles. It was going to be an adventure, no?

But he continued staring down at his lap

“Jake?” That moment it started, the bad feeling in your gut.

“It's-” his voice broke, he cleared his throat twice. “It's four years light from here” he said. No way

“Four years?” You asked, scandalized, what was he even saying.

“Four years?! You can't! You can't leave me for four years!... Jake?!”

********

You were woken up by some turbulence, you guessed, seeing all the other soldiers start stretching around you. No actualization came through the coms, so you picked up your updated tags. They felt totally wrong, had you somehow picked the wrong ones? You raised them to your face. Oh, right, ‘Smith’, and now with‘ ‘Ladybird’ ’ added under it. You passed your thumb over it. Better to just get used to the shit show.

To the drain had gone your hopes for a sterile callsign, or your agenda for ‘Glasgow’. Becca's old gift had become the door for a hurtful word that reminded you of him. It had been painful and embarrassing, and you had hated it with your whole heart, as ‘most callsigns tend to be’ in your lieutenant's words. Maybe most soldiers felt that way, but you couldn't help and feel particularly fucked.

Maybe it would be for the best, to carry forever a reminder. For the little girl forced to say goodbye, maybe? Maybe it'd keep you on your toes, maybe it'd become the last straw, one day…

Ladybird, ladybird, and him telling you army stories and how he survived.

You dropped your tags, and settled rather awkwardly into staring upfront, to a random spot inside the heli walls. Your usual thing on the ‘ways towards’ a drop, was to either talk to Becca, or look into someone's eyes, again, usually Becca's.

But you weren't on speaking terms now, leave it alone intimate and vulnerable eye-contact.

Of course she had noticed your late crisis, who wouldn't? But you had asked her not to dig, for personal and literal higher ups orders, you couldn't explain it to her.

Still, she had guessed enough.

She had started giving you that worried look. “You've been oddly mute. Seriously, it’s fucking creepy.” And more quips along those lines, over and over. More invasive each time. So you had snapped at her.

Even without RDA orders, you were terrified of telling her, too humiliated. “Hey, remember my dad? The one I talked about every day? The one I've done everything for? The one that holds my entire life in his hands, and that I swore time and time again was so much better than my own mother? Well, guess what he did.”

Guess what I am not enough for, or worthy of.

Yet, she still kept trying. “I can take you to this, uh, doctor. They helped me back then, when my old man died. Before you know it, they-” “Because you turned out fucking great! Didn't you, Becky!?”

What a ducking low blow, unfair and untrue. You did admire her and- Whatever. She can whine all she wants. You wouldn't look at her, and you knew she wouldn't look at you either. Your fights were rare, but boy did they last.

Still, looking into your companions eyes on the rides to the operations had become a grounding tactic for you, the grounding tactic. Since the very first time, scared shitless, looking into Becca's eyes until you both snorted, then into an unfamiliar soldier, your polite glances changing from “relax, we are together in this” to “Just don't fuck it” thorough the years.

That one time, into Bianca's eyes on the way back, her last time. It had been good, a resounding success.

Carnage.

And she just looked so… defeated. Carnage-

Rebecca started moving by your side, but you wouldn't be staring at her anytime soon. The only option were Thomas, a complete uptight bitch, or Tabitha, almost straight in front of you. If only she stopped fiddling, for five seconds!

It was almost picturesque watching her, usually so open and cool, looking around, at her watch, at her boots, at her watch again, anything but your eyes. It was turning unsettling, actually. But maybe you deserved it, you had snapped at her too.

First, two days ago “Your father, Jake, right?” The nonchalant bitch had said, as if you were the one to be yelling about your personal life. You clenched your jaw until it hurt, until it felt like you wouldn't be able to open it again. That was stuff you only had shared with Becca, maybe Bianca, back in your newbie days.

You couldn't care less, you thought, and yet… After that interaction, you ran to the bathroom to have one of the worst panic attacks of your life. It was strange, his name spoken out loud.

It's real, it's very real. He was here, and then he left you. It happened. It happened-

And then again, last night, Tabi had doubled down with a casual“ ‘Smith’? Hm, what?” She laughed, kinda forced. You ignored her, your eyes unmoving from the flask you were eating from, already in a mood from your fight with Becca. “You didn't like ‘Sully’?” She asked again, and it wasn't worry, yet there was genuine interest in her voice, “So… do you wanna talk about this Ja-” You slammed the flask on the table, felt it deform a little “One would think you'd know to shut up about fucking dead names” You snapped, staring her down for a second before standing up to leave.

Once again, what an absolute low blow.

You should always be apologizing to your snipers, hopefully before landing on active field.

You lift your head, a quick movement to catch her attention. She awkwardly greeted you back, but right away directed her gaze outside the window. Fair enough. Maybe she should just fucking blow your head. And just…-

So, you had to resign yourself to your second grounding tactic, carving with your thumbnail into your rifle, always with the prospect that, throughout the years, shapes would appear embossed. That was the point, to not apply too much force, so it would take very, very long. They were small, and rough, that way you could pass them for use-issued scratches if ever questioned. Around the nuzzle, close to the trigger or by the grip.

You started to go over the new heart shape you were adding by the trigger, barely starting to be noticeable, when you had to hit the brakes again, because you zeroed in the oldest mark, the deepest one, the most important and personal one, the ‘S’ letter on the top side of the nuzzle.

Well, what were you going to stare at now, when ordered to shoot at civilians?

******

As warned, it was a specially active zone, rigged with enemy drones, despite months of your branch cleaning them. Yet not the worst you've ever been to.

Tabitha had separated way too early, suspiciously early.

To avoid detection, you had to switch off all devices, but send a ‘blink’ at least every 20 minutes, with position and status. Tabitha had been dark for almost two hours.

Either death or insubordination, it would be a pain. Holly, your leader, had decided to give it a last try to reach her, and you had offered yourself. Because you kinda had promised Bianca, because you didn't want to stand alone with Becca, and because you were feeling particularly bold and brave as of lately.

You had been given an hour. You knew that if not found, one way or another, Tabitha was dead, and that kind of kept you going. You had sent four ‘blinks’ by the time you finally spotted her inside an old and collapsed watch block station, a feat rather impossible, if not for you using the 4t laser goggles Holly had entrusted you with. Almost two billion dollars in your hands.

It was too much of a deserted zone to be worth the drones or few hostiles you had spotted as well, so why the fuck was this girl here?

At least it was easy to avoid detection using the goggles, when it is just one person and not a squad. It took you twelve minutes to sneak across the field, enough walls and old machinery to hide you.

You kinda suspected what you were going to encounter. And it was… strange. But not even remotely close to what they had warned you since training days.

“You'll have full permission to execute your fellow former brothers and sisters, allies no more.” Yeah, it didn't feel like that.

You entered what most likely used to be a kitchen, bare and basic even in its best days. Tabitha had been confident enough, to lay her heavy snipper by the wall, crouching on the floor, back to the entrance.

“Tabi” You called, rifle ready. She barely jumped, but that was a lot for a sharpshooter. She turned around, still curated and smooth, not dropping the thing she had been holding. She gave her sniper one quick look that made you reposition your hold in your rifle, raising it from her chest to her head.

You didn't say anything for a minute, her face changed a little when she calmed enough to stare into yours. Recognition that almost looked like relief, and that made you hold your rifle tighter.

Very slowly Tabi started to get up and to fully face you, the ‘box’ still secured in her hands. Your rifle followed her head until she stood straight, and then you took a second to look at the box. On one side, you did recognize it as a rebel box, a knot of yellow wires designed to explode if tampered, yet securely opened. Inside, military issued drives, like the ones your superiors had been doing some revolt for a while, barging and registering down to every crevice of the corps.

You dared close your eyes for a second “Are you for fucking real?” You asked, with a soft voice.

Tabi didn't flinch or answer, just kept staring at you with this cheap solemnity you've seen quite a lot on the other side of your gun.

“They'll hang you” You continued. Not really, but she'll get a bullet on her head.

“Yes” is all she said. Now that did finally irritated you

“Then why the fuck, Tabitha?!”

She faintly shrugged “It's the right thing to do”

Now you had to roll your eyes. You held a bit uncomfortable your gun with a hand, so to scrub down your face with the other.

Tabi saw your mannerisms with a frown, close to amused “Oh, it isn't? Then what is it?”

“You follow the damn orders, and you get fucking paid!”

“Really?” She asked with a strange calmness. “Is that why you do it, Sully?”

You felt like someone had ripped off your clothes. You just couldn't help but look down for a second at the carved “s” on the rifle. Purposely there, for you to see it when holding aim”

“Smith, Tabitha” You corrected. Finally she broke her bravado facade. She exhaled your name, calling you.

“You are not, this” She gestured with a hand at your shape.

You scoffed furious “Oh my! The traitor is about to tell me what I am, everyone quiet!”

Tabi grimaced for a second, but continued. “You haven't shot me yet, or call boss.”

True. And every second you added to this stalling, you became bigger of a coward.

“But even more,” She continued, “I remember what you said back then, at board school”

Bianca and Milton, always together, always sad, the boy always after the girl. What had you told them? You were fourteen, it was lunch time, you had fought your mom via video call, and there were soldiers recruiting the oldest kids.

It was annoying. You held back your rifle with both hands, the finger right by the trigger. “I don't fucking remember, Kitty”

Tabi gave you a long look, turning sad, remaining scared, and yet she continued.

“You hated science, so the safest way was to play soldier. To…” And she looked particularly reluctant then, suspecting you were, indeed, about to shoot her;”…To meet your father again”

“Yeah, he is kinda of a scientist too? But I'd rather die than do more electron diagrams. So, yeah. I'll become a marine, just like him”

You closed your eyes for a second, opened them, and stared at the carved “S”, the promise, the goal, the one and only thing that had kept you pushing, that had stopped you from disobeying any order, no matter how stupid or terrible, because you couldn't afford a bad score.

You couldn't afford missing your chance to meet him halfway.

So what was the point now? What were you doing? Why were you doing it?

For what?

For whom?

You started lowering your gun.

Slowly, letting go of much, much more than just the girl ahead.

“Listen, fucking listen Tabitha, I don't know what you were thinking, but as far as they know, you just went dark. You can say-”

“No. I'm not doing this anymore, I'll die before continuing to be a fucking state murde-”

“You and your fucking “I’ll die”s! Think, Tabi! You are not getting out of here, not alive, not carrying that”

“I'll try” She said, with a scary resignation. “And I know you get it, I know you do. I- I'm not trying to play you, I mean it. We've both lost someone, no? Right in the middle, looking for them.”

Again you stared at each other for a minute. You got a vibration on your chest, a reminder to send an update back to your squad.

“Are you doing this for Bianca?-”

“Were you doing this for Jake?” She rebutted immediately.

You winced and short of snarled, you raised your gun again, but at least not aiming it at her.

“Don't!- Fucker! Just fucking answer me!” You yelled.

Tabi shook her head, with a sad smile

“What do you think? Of fucking course this is for Bianca. But… I'm doing this for me, too… What about you?”

What about you? What were you doing? Why were you doing it?

For what?

For whom?

You fully dropped your rifle, now hanging from the belt on your shoulder. You looked up at the broken ceiling, at the dull light coming from the cracks. At the star, exactly where you knew it shone invisibly. Because you always knew where it was, day or night, peace of war. And you always would.

You couldn't believe Bianca, you couldn't believe Tabi, you couldn't believe yourself. But then again, for whom have you been doing this and for whom are you going to do it from now on?

You shook your head, exhaled, and filled yourself with resignation. It was too bitter and heavy. Whatever.

You raised your hand to signal Tabi not to freak, and pushed on the switch in your watch, to turn on your devices and position.

“Ladybird here” You said to your mic. “6k f drop. Still no Kitty. One more lap before dock” You announced, and turned off the switch again.

“I'm not a fucking martyr or mockingjay…” You acused, hitting her chest with your finger, hard enough to make her take a step back. “...Nor am I a rat” You finished. Tabi fully dropped her shoulders with relief at your words.

“Let's go” you said, already turning around

“What?”

“You need to get out of the perimeter, no?”

“Yes?”

You stopped and raised the 4t goggles “I can easily take you there.” Her face glowed, at the goggles or at your words, and her eyes got a little misty.

“Thank y-”

“And then” You curtly interrupted “I'll never see you again. I'll say I reached the border and never found you, understood?” You did not expect to see her big smile. “Yes ma'am”

********

You stopped when you felt the small vibration in your chest, already another twenty minutes, but luckily already reaching the figurative border. Barren hills started to rise up front, full of craters and caves. It was probably ridged with mines. You put your goggles down, and turned to see a sweaty Tabi stopping by your side.

“You'll be okay?”

“Yeah, someone is going to pick me”

You just nodded “Very well” you said, already turning to go back where you came from

“Wait! I… I don't know how to thank you”

“Just disappear” You called, without turning back “Please”

You heard her chuckle, and then her boots hitting the ground in the opposite direction. You'd have to run for around five minutes before calling and giving your position, or it would be uncalled for to be this close to the border. You hadn’t run for more than twenty seconds, when you were tackled down to the ground.

It felt different, like one of those punchings in sparring that you wouldn't feel until the next day, and would get you limping for a week. Electrifying, it struck, dug deeper, and grew. You tried to stand up, but you couldn't, barely managing to crawl behind the skeleton of a very old car, naked rust metal filled with holes, you sat heavily against it.

Your waist, you hoped, your stomach even. But how could you not know? You checked with your hand, your fingers lodging in a hole in the thick vest, right under your right breast. Another zip, now on your nape, traveling down your back. The sweat on your neck felt freezing, but your chest burning. Where had you felt this before? Oh yeah, when you entered your old dorm, your face meeting eye level with Bianca's knees, barely swinging. Behind you someone broke in a wailed scream, you kept staring at the faint swing of her body.

She must have remained conscious for at least a minute, no? Was this your minute?

All your right torso was red, and you saw, vividly, the red spot growing through the opaque fabric. Too fast.

You remember. You remember, they taught you on maniquies and with laser projectors over your own bodies. Where to heal, but most important, where to aim, where to hit, where to stab and twist the knife.

Whatever. It doesn't matter if I die. It doesn't matter if I die. It doesn't matter if i die it doesn't matter if i die it doesn't matter if i die-

“N- no-”

You were grabbing at the gravel on the floor. When did you slide down?

Metallic and dusty.

He was showing you his ‘bar trick’, balancing on the back wheels. That time his beard and hair were a bit too long. “It's harder than it looks” He defended. You believed him. You had tried his chair a couple times. You believed him, you believed him.

You were laying on your side, almost on your stomach. Perhaps there wasn't an exit hole. You had to turn, lay on your back, but you just couldn't. Breathing started to hurt, too much. You just couldn't

“Ah…argh!…No!”

You were fifteen, still wearing the board school skirt. Mrs Veenani grabbed you by your arms, painfully. “Do not ever joke about that!” But you weren't joking. Why had she to ruin it? It was supposed to be your day. She shook you, her grasp tightening. “The army, those soldiers. It's death and death alone!” She said “They kill! They hurt, and steal and rape. My- my girl! Didn't you see? Didn't you learn? You saw what they did to Jake, how they- abandoned him.” Oh, mom. You looked down at her white loafers, the ones she wore most- “Promise me! Promise me you wont do something so, so stupid, so stupid! Promise me you wont!”

You were looking at the sky, thick orange clouds covering the sun. Suddenly you saw Tabitha’s face. Something pressing down on your side

“Ah! Fuck!” You screeched. it was like you woke up for a second

“Kitty, b team on. A S down! Shot in - on the torax-...- down…-blood. Won't stop… Appleline, she's down, Ladybird!”

Ah, your apple. Please, let me see Becca one last time

“So…rry”

Tabitha pressed harder. You yelled again.

“Yes! Three, uh, two clicks west. Is it on?... Okay-”

Your mother, the last time you saw her. She looked fancier, elegant, a pastel pink charol carry-on luggage “Oh my! You've gotten tall?!” She looked up and down your school uniform. Critic. Or worse, unimpressed.

The first time ever you saw Tommy, mother pulling you by the arm inside the apartment. He was wearing a long beige trench coat, hair slicked to the side. A bright red gift bag on his hand, extended to you. Big, gigantic, immense. “Finally, what a true pleasure to meet you, lady” his words made you laugh, because what? You liked him immediately.

“You are the bestest best!” You yelled. Feeling at the top of the world, and literally higher than most people around. “Best, just best” Jake corrected from under. You laughed. Yeah, yeah, no bigger than ‘est’ teacher had say. No better than best. “You… you have the, uh, biggestest heart!” you repeated, louder, arms extended, struggling to keep your balance. He caught your shins tighter, he also caught onto your words, on your message. Finally. “Biggestest, huh? Alright, it fits” He said amused. You clapped both your hands over his forehead, having to duck as you passed a low branch, full of purple and fuchsia flowers. Some stuck in your hair, some fell on Jake's shoulders. “You are- with, big, biger- biggestes heart!” You yelled, even louder. He laughed louder too.

A sharp smack to your check “Don't fall asleep!” Tabitha ordered. Underwater, far away.

Your scalp hurt, your froggy hair clips gone, but you knew her ginger head had to be worse. Whatever, you'd throw mud at her face again and again. She had called you ugly, and said your parents were weirdos. How dared her? And Jake, he- he should be proud, no?... And yet, as you walked with your hands tightly gripping your backpack straps, he stood there besides your teacher, his arms crossed, frowning. Looking you down. He wasn't pretending, he was genuinely angry at you. Disappointed. And you thought, you liked him more than Tommy. And you thought, you secretly liked him better than mother herself. And you prayed: please, please don't throw me away. I'll do good, I'll be good, please don't throw me away.

It wasn't Tabitha putting pressure on your wound, it was Jake. But he didn't look scared, nor were his eyes misty. He just looked down at you, his lips pressed on a tight line. It hurt, it just hurt, but he pressed harder and harder. You tried to scream, scratch at his arms, but he just pressed harder and harder, until your chest caved.

“Agh-Ah!... Why?! Dad!…. Ah!” You yelled. Without air, without lungs, with your heart discarded somewhere.

Tears fell down on his lap, his eyes, his face, disfigured with pain. “It's-” his voice broke, he cleared his throat twice. “It's four years light from here” he said.

No, not there, please!

His face plain, emotionless. Not even cruel, just…there.

No. Please, please God, please, no

He looked down at you. Tired. Bored. Disappointed. Disgusted.

You choked on a sob, the pain excruciating, losing the breath you already didn't have

“Plea-se… please!... Ju-...ju…” Just take me with you! I'll be small, I'll make myself so little! Just take me with you!

“Ja…Dad…”

Your body wasn't yours, hollow and spent.

He stood up, blood up to his elbows, to his shoulders, did he even notice? Because his gaze was set on the bright horizon.

He wouldn't even look down at you? Just this one time? This one last time?!

He smiled. Blue, taller, perfect, whole.

Happy.

He walked over your body, stepping on your corpse, crushing the remains, the joy and excitement almost glowing out of his form. And he didn't look down at you.

You screamed, yelled his name, cried and growled, tearing apart the remains of your body. You turned around on the black soil, on the void, and started crawling after him.

*******

He is gone

It was dark for a while. Then blinding white, painfully luminous. Your body made of lead, dead, yet tender and thirsty. An unstoppable beep in your ears, and whirring everywhere.

You'll never see him again

Uninterested people, smelling of alcohol, sterile. Over and over, day after day. Sometimes, something hurt beyond words, but you couldn't scream. It was peaceful, and you wanted to keep sleeping.

He will never think of you again

Eventually Becca joined you. She finally got some license, you supposed.

You'll disappear

You still hadn't apologized. Not a single word uttered. But from the very first day she visited you and following, she was there. Talking your ear off while you stared at the landscape displayed on the window. Brushing your hair as you sat up. Ready with your salmon towel after you were directed to bathing. Where had she found it?

“Tabitha got dishonorably discharged. So, yippee… Your word could have, you know, helped her… Or dig her deeper, that too.”

Oh yeah, some officers had been to your room. A lot of questions, and the nurses’ backs on you, arguing…

“Carl got a rise. Yes, another! It's like, consecutive, I know. We were a little scared at first, that it was a mistake. But! Now my baby is basically a head consultant!”

Carl? Oh yeah, the boyfriend.

The cleaning of the wound hurt like a bitch. You felt it. But you just couldn't complain. Not even a hiss. As long as you could keep sleeping.

Officers came again. And again another day. Eventually they didn't bother talking to you, just Becca and the nurses. You could sleep better, you thought.

You opened your eyes one afternoon, something about lowering the sedatives. Your back was to Becca, you heard her sniffling. It went on for an eternity.

********

“Could… may I bring Carl here, to.. say hi?” You didn't answer. “Okay… he's always, always, asking about you. Ha, well, he'd love to bore you to death about his job!”

Your period came a third time. Again, you stared at the growing red spot on the disposable fabric, until Becca or a nurse noticed, giving you a pad, sending you to the bathroom. It felt like only there you remembered.

Right there, on the ground, watching the red stain consuming your kevlar, turning the dirt to cinnamon mud. His arms covered in your blood. The lack of love in his eyes. You yelled, you cried, nurses came. You slept again.

Again, you were back on the ground, and him looking down at you. Turning away, his face instantly becoming joyful, staring at the bright horizon, the one you couldn't even see. But this time he did look down at you. Cold, freezing. Heartless. Without words, but as if to say “I am choosing this. I want to do this” As he walked away, leaving you laying down.

You woke up with a jolt, tears already on your face. Becca wasn't around, and maybe that was for the best. You cried as loud as you could without alerting the nurses, screaming against the white sheets and the pillow. Twisting them as hard as you could, tearing them.

Yeah… yeah… you could crawl after him. You really, really, could.

But things started to change. Your nightmares started to take different paths. You didn't feel like crawling. You didn't feel like holding onto his feet and begging. You didn't feel like crying.

And when you weren't busy twisting in agony, you started to pay attention to his face, to his genuine happiness, to the bliss, to the glow in his eyes as he walked towards the bright horizon, his wide smile. So full of devotion, and hope. A dream leader, a ferocious revolutionary, a loving father.

And you watched, over and over, everything you closed your eyes.

Sometimes the old teenager, sometimes in his wheelchair, sometimes blue. But alway, always, leaving you and your mangled, dirty, and worthless body behind.

Something beautiful and perfect started to fill every crack in yourself. Every single missing piece of your soul, was replaced with pure, vibrating anger.

A brand new peace took over you. You finally, finally found a solution. You finally knew what to do.

You were there again, in some limbo. Not a dream, but not real either. It was just you alone, in the infinite, quiet darkness.

That's the thing with nightmares, you rationalized, that first and foremost, they are supposed to be yours.

And so you yelled. You promised.

“I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you! I'll kill you! And I'll kill your wife, and your kids! You will fucking beg me Jake, you will fucking beg me!”

********

In the next morning Becca came back.

Your voice too weird, new, unknown.

“I… I'm sorry… for what I said.” You rasped. Her eyes filled with tears right away. She dropped the bags to cover her face with her hands, standing there by the door, nodding. You extended your arm, and she almost tackled you to the bed.

You yelped, for the very first time in almost six months. Your side was healed, it was just your body, that felt finally yours again.

You two talked for a while, and got a brief visit from a nurse. You decided then it was better to just get over with it. You knew you'd break her heart.

You stared at her, at the only thing in the entire world that could stop you.

You just kept in mind to be better than him, so you forced yourself to look her in the eye. “I am going to check in… I need to go to Pandora”

And she hated it, she had told you so since forever, the colonization, the invasion, the objectively insurmountable distance.

But she knew too, that it was the only thing tethering you up. That it was this, or back to the bed, mute and sleeping.

Her face fell, sad and angry, furious even. But she didn't fight, nor even tried to question you. She just fell, resigned.

No one said anything. She looked away and you followed, staring at nothing in silence, thinking, for several minutes. Eventually, without looking at you, she grabbed your hand, and squished. Because you both knew, very well, that it was either this, or you'd die.

(Chapter 4 ->)

🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🐞🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻

[suja-janee]

This is kinda relating to my last post but I think some of you are mistaking Shen for an albino peacock.. cause he’s not

I mean, I don’t really blame you if you mistook him as one cause honestly I’m just a weirdo who reads wikis.

(skip everything and just read the bottom if you don’t wanna read my explanation)

.

.

Shen is a peacock with leucism, not albinism.

(Leucism definition on the left, albinism on the right)

Here’s him compared to an actual albino peacock. As you can see, the albino has a pink and white pigmentation due to a lack of melanin, whereas Shen despite being mostly white is still full of color.

(And no, it’s not because it’s a silly cartoon. The creators of KFP had originally intended to make him albino to make him look “sickly” which would explain why he was neglected by his parents. They made the decision to scrap that in favor of having him be a peacock with leucism so there was no excuse or tragic backstory to justify his entitlement and actions)

.

.

And if you REALLY don’t believe my explanation, here’s the KFP wiki page backing me up!

[strangebiology]

Left: Replica snow leopard skull from Bone Clones. 6 incisors on top and 6 on bottom. (normal)

Right: Tai Lung from Kung Fu Panda Franchise. 17 visible incisors on top? and 14 on the bottom.

Left: Calf skull from SkullJunkies on Etsy. 0 incisors on top, 8 on the bottom (normal)

Right: Kai from Kung Fu Panda Franchise. 6 visible incisors on the top and 12 on bottom. (I think he's a water buffalo? So not a domestic bull or steer, but they're interfertile and have the same number of teeth.)

Left: Peacock skull. 0 incisors on top and 0 on bottom (normal)

Right: Lord Shen from Kung Fu Panda Franchise. 0 incisors on top and 0 on bottom (normal)

[awkwardjewishtheatrenerd]

There ain't no man that enjoys waiting for the Swept Away Cast Album to drop in full.

Wasn't able to get to NYC for one of the 20 previews or 48 regular performances? No biggie, just come to my site and get your copy today!

Swept Away Broadway November 2024 $17.50

Cast: Adrian Blake Enscoe (Little Brother), Stark Sands (Big Brother), John Gallagher Jr. (Mate), Wayne Duvall (Captain), Josh Breckenridge (Ensemble), Hunter Brown (Ensemble), Matt DeAngelis (Ensemble), Cameron Johnson (Ensemble), Brandon Kalm (Ensemble), Rico Lebron (Ensemble), Michael J. Mainwaring (Ensemble), Orville Mendoza (Ensemble), Tyrone L. Robinson (Ensemble), John Sygar (Ensemble), Chase Peacock (Ensemble), David Rowen (Ensemble)

Notes: MP4 format. My first video in 4K! Preview performance filmed from the right rear orchestra. Mix of wide shots and zooms. Minimal obstruction, mostly contained to the bottom/bottom left. Includes bows. NFS forever except through master and NFT through December 24, 2029. Screenshots: https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBRvgt

[aurumacadicus]

This is a fill for @bitetonysassfest!

NSFW Thursday 20 Trope: Wing Fic Dialogue: "I guess I'll just get off all by myself."

More AvAc! Because I feel like he’s the only one who could reasonably say the dialogue without it coming off as manipulative. You can read this on ao3 (here). Look out for under the cut!

--

Steve hadn’t really considered the difficulties about topping a peacock until Tony shed his clothes and turned to face him. His coverts had raised up into a fan around him again, like it had at the club, the blue-green eyes almost dizzying in the small space. Steve had thought his fan would have been easy enough to figure out, but Tony had explained that once things got hot and heavy, his muscles would relax, and they’d fall again. “Mm. That is.” He considered his next words carefully, then finally decided, “A lot of feathers.”

As kind as he’d been trying to be, it didn’t work, and he caught the first smidgen of insecurity he’d ever seen on Tony as he rubbed his arm and turned away, coverts already falling to half-mast. “Yeah, it… It’s definitely easier after I molt.” He swallowed thickly, then huffed, shaking his head. “Sorry. I know you wanted to top this time.”

“I don’t have to,” Steve hurried to assure him. It would have been nice, but he could pivot. Tony never left him regretting being the receiving partner, after all. Just because he’d been looking forward to finally returning the favor didn’t mean that he couldn’t wait a little longer.

Tony just shrugged, though, staring at his feet. His coverts fell a little more, the ends of his long feathers beginning to trail over the floor. “It’s okay, Steve. I know you like to have more time to prepare when you bottom.”

“Sure, but I don’t always have to,” Steve tried again, heart sinking along with Tony’s coverts as they finally fell flat, the eyes at the ends of his feathers bouncing along the carpet as he turned and took a step to fuss with the blankets on his bed. “Tony. Really. I can roll with this.”

“It’s fine,” Tony said again, disappointment carefully covered with cheer. “I’m not really in the mood for sex anymore anyway, so. I guess if I do get horny, I’ll just get off all by myself this time. We can try again later! Maybe after I’ve molted? Or a villain shaves them off,” he added under his breath. “That might happen first.”

Steve stepped closer, carefully navigating the feathers bouncing along the carpet, and clamped his hands down on Tony’s hips so he couldn’t skitter away like a frightened animal. He felt Tony reflexively try to jerk out of his grip and sighed, pulling him as close as he could without bunching his feathers uncomfortably. “Tony, you’re doing that thing where you make decisions for both of us again.”

Tony stilled, head dipping forward as if he was still too embarrassed to make eye contact with him. “…I just. Everyone says peacocks are too much. I don’t want to be too much for you. I know when they say ‘too much,’ they’re just trying to be nice and not say I’m annoying out loud.”

“Everyone else sucks,” Steve answered flatly. “I don’t think you’re annoying, especially about something you can’t help. I like you just the way you are. And I’m just as good at rolling with sudden changes as you are. I’m the man with the plan, remember?”

Tony let out a reluctant huff, and Steve caught the corner of his mouth curling up before he turned his head again. “Oh yeah? What’s your plan then, Captain America?”

Steve took a moment to consider what to say, lifting a hand to carefully trail his fingers over where Tony’s coverts met skin. He watched the feathers begin to lift reflexively with the stimulation and tipped his head, considering. He ran his fingers over the skin again, and Tony’s back spasmed beneath them, feathers shifting further up. “Are your feathers heavy?” he asked after a moment.

“Um.” Tony turned his head to squint at him. “They’re a few pounds altogether, I guess. Ten at the most. It doesn’t hurt? If that’s what you’re worried about? I have excellent core strength.”

“I know,” Steve answered, momentarily distracted as he remembered the way he’d ridden the mechanical bull he’d built for a party so Jan could show off a new western-themed line she’d designed. He blinked the memory away quickly, though, focusing back on the present with a reluctant huff. He shifted his hand around to the side and carefully scooped up a handful of feathers. Just like Tony had said, it wasn’t heavy at all, just a little unwieldy because they were so long. “What about this?”

Tony blinked, confused. “Sure feels like you’re holding ‘em? Steve. I’m not made of glass.”

“I’m just getting the full scope of everything,” Steve answered, hefting the feathers in his hand thoughtfully. If he used both hands, he could hold up most of Tony’s train. He only needed to make a little gap between the halves. “Can you put your hands on the bed and kind of lean forward?”

“Assume the position? Sure,” Tony answered, and luckily there was genuine humor in his voice now. Steve found he liked that a lot better than the fake cheer, even if it did make him wonder just how oblivious Tony was.

Tony obediently leaned forward, pressing his hands to the mattress. Steve only had to grip and push his hips a little to get him into the position he wanted, and Tony accommodated easily, shifting his feet until Steve stopped him exactly where he wanted him. Once he was satisfied, Steve grasped Tony’s coverts in both hands, carefully splitting them in half so he could press between them and drop to his knees between Tony’s feet. He took a moment to get himself settled, then carefully let go of Tony’s feathers.

They fanned over him as if he belonged there, curving under their own length over his body. He could feel the soft, floaty barbs tickling the back of his neck and arms. He took a moment to quickly unbutton his shirt and shrug it off, shivering as the feathers tickled over the newly exposed skin. He could feel the weight of the shafts against him, but they weren’t very heavy at all, more like a steady presence. He took a moment to steady himself, because it was possible Tony wouldn’t like this at all.

Then he reached up, curling his hands around the front of Tony’s thighs to hold him steady, and leaned in to nip Tony’s right cheek.

“Oh!” Tony yelped in surprise, and Steve was glad he’d grabbed him, because he jumped as if he’d been electrocuted. He twisted around to look at him, but Steve was covered by his fan.

Steve took advantage of being hidden to lean in and give his ass another sharp bite, but he retreated quickly when Tony made a soft, high-pitched noise. “Is this okay?”

Tony’s breath was already coming a little harder, he realized with a start, coverts twitching along his back as his muscles spasmed. “You really are the man with a plan,” he wheezed, dropping forward onto his elbows. “No one’s ever thought of that before.”

It propped his ass up even nicer. Steve lifted a hand to admire the curve, following it with his fingers before he gave it a short swat, and the flesh jiggled under the slap. “Let’s just say I was incredibly motivated,” he teased, then reached up, carefully spreading Tony’s cheeks so he could see his hole. “I’m gonna eat you out until you beg me to stop, just so you know.”

“Huh?!” Tony yelped, but that was all he managed before a wounded noise escaped his throat as his body jerked, feathers dancing over Steve’s back as he shoved his face into his ass.

[written-with-clouds]

A Layover in Pleasure

Day 4/12 of Smutmas

Summary: What is one to do when a snow storm causes all flights to get canceled.

CW: Strangers, one night stand, Seonghwa in lingerie, unprotected sex

It isn't explicitly mentioned/said in the fic, but as I was writing this I was picturing Seonghwa to be around 34 years old and Hongjoong to be 26.

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All Flights Cancelled 

Seonghwa reread the monitor several times. Took his glasses off, rubbed his eyes, put his glasses back on, and read the monitor again.

“Ha… Damnit.” Seonghwa sighs. He peers out of the window, watching snow fall over the ground in thick white sheets. 

“You stuck to?” A voice came from beside him. 

Seonghwa shifts, turning his attention to the shorter man next to him. He had blue hair that had started to fade slightly at the ends, his right ear sported three piercings while his left only had one. He smiled kindly at Seonghwa, his head tilted to the side slightly. He looked young… younger than Seonghwa anyway.

“I think the whole airport is stuck..” Seonghwa replies. 

The man laughs shyly, rubbing the back of his head as his cheeks turn pink. “I guess you’re right..” 

Seonghwa sits there a moment longer in awkward silence before his phone chimes. Glancing down at the screen he reads the notification that’s popped up. Seonghwa stands and turns to say goodbye to the younger-looking man, “I’ve just got the notification that my hotel room is ready… It was nice meeting you-“ 

“Hongjoong.”

“It was nice meeting you, Hongjoong.” 

With nothing better to do for the evening, Seonghwa finds himself sitting in the corner booth of the hotel's lounge. He enjoys people watching on occasion, especially in nicer hotels like the one he’s currently staying in. He finds humor in the obvious ‘peacocking’ younger males do trying to impress their cheap dates—most of which end in unfortunate humiliation. And Seonghwa likes to eavesdrop on the staff’s conversations, most of which involve complaining about some ‘sleazball’ rich old guy. Those stories told him who to avoid at social events or for business partners, all without having to meet them himself. But, with the snowstorm still raging outside, most had already settled in for the night. 

Seonghwa brought the sugary rim of his cocktail glass to his lips, taking a small sip. He was just about to call it a night and retreat up to his room when he caught sight of a certain blue haired boy walking into the bar.

This could be interesting.

He sits the glass down a little less gracefully than intended and stands, crossing the room to where Hongjoong is leaning against the bar. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” Seonghwa asks, dropping his voice slightly. 

Hongjoong’s eyes snap to Seonghwa and he watches as mild annoyance turns to confusion and finally realization. “It’s you! From the airport!” 

“It’s me,” Seonghwa confirms. “I guess I never did tell you my name. It’s Seonghwa.” 

“Seonghwa..” Hongjoong mirrors, and Seonghwa’s never liked the sound of his name more.

“So, Hongjoong, what do you do for a living?” Seonghwa asks, taking a sip from his cocktail. He licks some of the sugar from the rim for good measure, watching as Hongjoong’s eyes follow the movement.

“I’m…uh between jobs actually…” Hongjoong replies, taking a swig of his own drink. “I was flying out for an interview… but I specialize in marketing.”

Seonghwa hums absentmindedly, more occupied watching Hongjoong lift the glass to his lips. He zeros in on Hongjoong’s throat as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, before his gaze flits back up in time to watch Hongjoong’s tongue dart out to lick some of the liquid from his lips.

Seonghwa pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and leans forward, “Marketing huh? You don’t look the type.” 

Hongjoong’s throat bobs again as he swallows, his blush noticeable even in the dim lights of the bar. “No? W-what do I look like then?” 

Seonghwa considers him, letting his eyes trail over the lean muscles of his arms that are being hugged by his sweater, the way his fingers fidget while resting on the table. The mole peeking out from the collar of Hongjoong’s sweater, his sharp jaw, pink—kissable—lips, and kind, innocent eyes that seem to sparkle with just a hint of trouble. 

“You…” Seonghwa drawls, bringing his eyes to look directly into Hongjoong’s. He leans closer to the blue haired man and licks his lips to wet them, very much aware of Hongjoong’s eyes watching the motion before snapping back to Seonghwa’s eyes. “Look like you’d be good with your hands..” 

“W-with my h-hands?” Hongjoong’s voice cracks. Seonghwa smiles, sitting back against the booth and removing himself from Hongjoong’s personal space. 

Hongjoong’s body, unconsciously or not, followed after him, leaning against the table and angling his body towards Seonghwa. 

“Yeah… like sculpting or painting… Maybe something musical?” 

“Right… yeah.. I-I actually draw.. sometimes..” Hongjoong confesses. 

Seonghwa arches one eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest. “Really?”

He leans his elbow on the table and arches his back, just enough to pull the fabric of his button-up shirt open slightly, revealing the smooth skin of his collarbone. Hongjoong’s eyes greedily stare at his honeyed skin.  

When Hongjoong eventually nods, smiling bashfully, Seonghwa continues. “Can I see some drawings?”  

“They’re not that good… it’s just a hobby really..”

“They’re probably still better than anything I could draw..” Seonghwa bats his eyes at Hongjoong. 

“You really want to see it?” Hongjoong asks quietly, as if he’s scared of Seonghwa’s response. 

“I really do…” 

Hongjoong mutters a soft ‘okay’ and digs out his phone. He taps the screen a few times, various colors illuminating his face, before setting his phone on the table screen up. 

He swivels the phone to face Seonghwa, “This is a file of some of my sketches… You can flip through it if you want..” 

Seonghwa smirks at Hongjoong, leaning slightly closer to husk, “Not worried I’ll see something I shouldn’t?”

Hongjoong’s face very quickly turned to a deep shade of red, as well as the tips of his ears. He stares back at Seonghwa like a deer caught in headlights. “N-no… this file only has m-my.. um… my..” 

“Your… art?” 

“Yes!” Hongjoong clears his throat, looking around the, mostly empty, lounge in embarrassment. “Yes… my art.” He repeats, quieter. 

Seonghwa smiles to himself and turns his attention to the phone. The file is filled with photos taken of physical sketches, all with varying degrees of detail, and of digital sketches. There’s a good mix of object sketches and living figure sketches, and Seonghwa finds himself particularly interested in the living figure sketches. Specifically the ones of people. The way Hongjoong managed to transcribe whatever emotion the person was feeling into the drawing. How he was able to make someone's sweater look like the softest thing on the planet, all with a pencil and some paper. The curves and edges of the naked body. Hongjoong is incredibly talented, whether or not he admits it to himself.   

“These…” Seonghwa starts, spinning the phone back to Hongjoong, “are incredible.” 

“You… You really think so?” 

“I do.. in fact,” Seonghwa reaches out and takes one of Hongjoong’s hands in his, “I would like you to draw me. If you’re interested, that is..” 

“What? Really?” Hongjoong’s eyes were wide open again. Although, instead of looking scared, a glimmer of excitement makes them shine. Even in the dim lighting of the lounge. 

“Yes, really..

Seonghwa finishes changing, looking himself over in the full-length mirror of his hotel room's bathroom. He’s wearing his favorite set of lace lingerie, a two piece set with a matching garter belt that hugs him perfectly. The black lace scratches against his skin in a way Seonghwa is very familiar with, it’s almost comforting. He slowly and carefully rolls on sheer black thigh high stockings, clasping the garter to the tops of them. Lastly, Seonghwa pulls a robe on. It’s sheer similar to the stockings, but teeters on the edge of being completely see through. The ends of the robe are lined with black faux feathers that give it the smallest bit of weight. He ties the robe shut, adjusts a few minor things here and there, and exits the bathroom. 

Hongjoong is sitting in a large lounge chair with one leg crossed over the other. In his lap sat a sketch book, opened to a blank page. He was busy sharpening a pencil and didn’t notice when Seonghwa walked out into the living space. 

Seonghwa clears his throat, starting Hongjoong a little. He watches as Hongjoong’s eyes trace over his form. With the way he’s standing the feathers conceal the garter, underwear, and stockings. But the bralette Seonghwa has on is still visible. Hongjoong has noticed the bralette, his eyes fixated on Seonghwa’s chest as his Adam's apple bobs. 

“Where do you want me?” Seonghwa asks. 

“On.. over-over there…” Hongjoong shakily points to the bed across from him, “Lay on.. on the bed.” 

Seonghwa nods and crosses over to the bed, swaying his hips slightly as he does. He sits on the edge, throwing the back of his robe out over the mattress, before settling back against the pillows. 

“What next, Mr artist?” 

“Rest the hand farthest from me over your stomach,” Seonghwa did. “Good.. um… place the other up by your face… No, place it closer to your lips.. yes, perfect..” 

Hongjoong scrutinized Seonghwa’s position, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he thought deeply about something. 

“Prop your knee up.. the one farthest from me…” 

Seonghwa, again, listens and does as he’s told. Hongjoong rock on his feet, contemplating something.

“What is it?” Seonghwa inquires. 

“I- can I move.. something..” Seonghwa nods in answer and Hongjoong tentatively walks closer to the bed. He pinches the fabric of the robe between his fingers and moves off of Seonghwa’s bent knee, exposing the stocking and the clasp of the garter. Hongjoong sucks in a sharp breath at the sight, his eyes following Seonghwa’s exposed thigh up until the robe blocks his view. 

The artist coughs to clear his throat and moves back to the chair. “Right… so just.. hold this pose for me please..”

Watching Hongjoong work was interesting. Gone was the nervous, shaky, blushing man and in his place was someone who had no problem staring directly at Seonghwa for long periods of time. His tongue pokes out between his lips as he focuses. His eyes had lost the excited shine Seonghwa had grown too fond of over the course of their conversation. Hongjoong’s eyes were now focused and dark as he mapped out the lines of Seonghwa’s frame. His cheeks, however, remained flushed a light shade of pink. 

Seonghwa must have laid there for an hour, maybe two, still as a statue. His limbs had started to ache around the thirty minute mark, but he dared not move them. Not if it meant that Hongjoong would stop looking at him like that.

When Hongjoong finally sets down his pencil and looks up at Seonghwa, another hour has passed. 

“It’s finished…” 

Seonghwa wordlessly swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands. He slowly crosses the room and rounds Hongjoong’s chair, leaning over the back of it and lightly sliding his hands down the front Hongjoong’s chest until their faces are next to each other and Seonghwa can feel Hongjoong’s heartbeat beneath his hands.  

“Wow… Hongjoong, this is…”

“It’s not my best…” 

“It’s beautiful.. you’re very talented,” Seonghwa praises softly. He sees Hongjoong turn his head out of the corner of his eye, they’re so close that Seonghwa can feel each breath fan out against his cheek. He turns his head and meets Hongjoong’s gaze, which flicks down to Seonghwa’s lips before quickly looking back into his eyes. 

“You’re beautiful…” Hongjoong whispers and gives Seonghwa the confirmation he needed. 

Seonghwa leans in, closing the centimeters of space between the two of them, and kisses Hongjoong. It’s a light kiss at first, tentative as Seonghwa’s lips melt against Hongjoong’s. He can feel Hongjoong’s heartbeat quicken and one of his hands reaches up and cards softly through the hair on the back of Seonghwa’s head, pulling him closer in the process. 

 Seonghwa breaks the kiss, pulling away from Hongjoong and straightening. He saunters back over to the bed and drapes himself over the sheets, propping himself up on his elbows. With the curl of a finger, he beckons Hongjoong over. 

Hongjoong stands and walks to the end of the bed, but when he moves to join Seonghwa, Seonghwa speaks. 

“I don’t think it’s very fair that I’m nearly naked and you’re still fully clothed..” Seonghwa pouts, “strip for me.. please.” 

Hongjoong pulls his shirt over his head in one quick motion, tossing it somewhere in the room. His belt, socks, and pants follow shortly after. When he reaches for the hem of his boxers though, he pauses and glances at Seonghwa, who nods his head encouragingly. He takes a deep breath and pulls his boxers off as well, tossing them to join the rest of his discarded clothes. 

Hongjoong places a hand on the mattress, then a knee. He crawls up towards Seonghwa from the bottom edge of the bed, stopping mid way up his legs. He reaches up and grasps the ties keeping Seonghwa’s robe shut, he looks at them curiously for a few, agonizing moments before pulling the loose knot free and opening the robe. He sucks in a breath at the sight of Seonghwa’s lace underwear and garter belt. Hongjoong’s fingers lightly trace the lace designs, making Seonghwa shiver and gasp.

Hongjoong traces his fingers down, following the garter belt to where it connects to one of the stockings. He places two fingers over the clasp, ready to unclip the sheer fabric covering Seonghwa’s thigh.

Hongjoong pauses and looks up at Seonghwa with desire filled eyes, “Can I help you out of these?” 

“Please,” Seonghwa responds breathily. 

Hongjoong finally unclips the stocking and slides his fingers underneath the top of it, slowly rolling it down Seonghwa’s leg before placing a gentle kiss against his ankle once the stocking is removed. He repeats this process on the other leg. 

Hongjoong crawls up the rest of Seonghwa’s body and kisses him again. “You’re beautiful.” 

“So you’ve said..” Seonghwa smiles up at him softly. 

“And I’ll keep saying it.” Hongjoong dips his head, placing another short, soft kiss against Seonghwa’s mouth before trailing feather light kisses down his jaw, his neck, his sternum, and finally his stomach. 

Seonghwa looks down at Hongjoong, watching as he places his hands on either side of Seonghwa's hips. The feeling sends zaps of electricity up his sides. Hongjoong’s thumbs rub against the lace of Seonghwa’s underwear before working under the fabric to rub against his skin directly. 

Wordlessly, Hongjoong peels the lace fabric down Seonghwa’s legs. Hands trail back up the length of his legs, pushing them apart so that Hongjoong can kneel between them. 

“Can I,” Hongjoong asks while looking up at Seonghwa through his lashes, his face inching closer to Seonghwa’s hardening dick. 

His mouth suddenly dry, all Seonghwa can do is nod. 

Hongjoong takes Seonghwa’s tip into his mouth and begins to suckle. Seonghwa’s body twitches at the wet hot feeling of Hongjoong’s tongue swirling around his cock head. His hands pet through the mess of blue hair, nails gently scratching against Hongjoong’s scalp. 

“You taste divine,” Hongjoong husks, releasing Seonghwa’s, now fully erect, cock from his mouth. 

Seonghwa feels heat spread from his cheeks down through his chest as he blushes. 

When curious fingers begin to circle his rim, Seonghwa grabs one of Hongjoong’s hands. “You don’t need to… I… played with myself this morning..” He whispers.

“But I want to… please let me.” Seonghwa finds himself unable to refuse, not that he was going to, not when Hongjoong looks up at him as if he’s hung the stars. 

Seonghwa looks away, draping an arm over his eyes. “There’s lube in the front pocket of my luggage…”

Hongjoong’s back between his legs before Seonghwa even has a chance to notice his absence. He hears the bottle click open and some of the cold liquid trails down over his hole. Hongjoong presses two fingers inside of him easily, slowly thrusting them in and out. He curls his fingers experimentally, twisting his hand to change the angle, and twisting again. Hongjoong repeats the motion several times until he finds the little bundle of nerves inside of Seonghwa that makes his back arch off the bed and his toes curl. Two fingers soon become three and Hongjoong’s other hand wraps around Seonghwa’s weeping cock. 

Seonghwa closes his legs, or rather, attempts to. But with Hongjoong settled in between his knees, he does little more than squeeze his legs around the other man. With every stroke of Hongjoong’s hand on his dick, every thrust and twist of his fingers, Seonghwa grows more and more desperate. Small, breathy moans fall from his lips like music just for Hongjoong. 

“Please…Joongie~” Seonghwa pants.

“God,” Hongjoong practically growls. “Call me that again.” 

“Joongie… I-I can’t take any more… please please please..” Seonghwa babbles in between moans, “Please.. Fuck me. I want to feel you inside me.”

Hongjoong pulls his fingers free from Seonghwa and within the same breath squeezes more lube out onto his dick. He fists his cock, spreading the lube, before lining himself up with Seonghwa’s entrance. Hongjoong pushes in, bottoming out in one thrust. He leans over Seonghwa, bracing his arms on either side of his head, as he starts to roll his hips forward. Seonghwa throws his arms around Hongjoong, hugging him tightly. He surges up, crashing his lips against Hongjoong’s. Their tongues dance and their moans tangle together as Hongjoong ruts against Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa rakes his nails down Hongjoong’s back, leaving angry red lines in their wake. He does his best to rock back against Hongjoong and meet his thrusts. Every nerve in Seonghwa’s body was alight with pleasure and his heart beats rapidly in his chest. The once rhythmic and affectionate pace turns frantic and messy as they near their climaxes. 

Hongjoong breaks the kiss, a sting of saliva still connecting their lips. “I’m close… Where-” 

“Inside… do it inside!” 

Hongjoong fucks his cock into Seonghwa a few more times before he stills, groaning low in his throat as he releases inside of him. At the feel of Hongjoong’s cum spilling out inside of him, Seonghwa follows Hongjoong. His back arches into Hongjoong’s body, his knees draw up and his toes curl as his cum shoots out over his chest and stomach. 

Two Weeks Later

Seonghwa drums his fingers against the glass table. This day was dragging on.

Because of that damned snow storm they had to reschedule nearly all of the interviews he had planned. With his father breathing down his neck to fill the position, Seonghwa had no choice but to double the amount of people he interviewed in a day. So far, not a single person was as promising in person as they were on paper. It wouldn’t have been a problem normally, but Seonghwa found himself unusually tense. 

“Your next interview is ready, sir.” 

“Send them in,” Seonghwa answers boredly. He hears the door open and shut, but no sounds of footsteps, or a chair being pulled out. He lifts his head and is greeted with a familiar head of blue hair and the same brown eyes that had looked up at him from between his legs. 

“Seonghwa?”

“Hongjoong?”

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