#but now i have to get used to how all those brushes that i'd gotten used to indeed look how they're supposed to finally. Alarming

[lunarharp]

pretty & cute witch men

[bluecollarmcandtf]

My Son Came Home just the Other Day...

...and I just had to tell him how proud I was! My boy had become a strong young man! I'd been bragging to everyone I knew that my son, Private Joel Bishop, had made it through basic training and was on the way home to see his good old dad! I never knew being a father would bring me such joy, but here I am.

I slapped Joel on the back approvingly and discreetly wiped my eye. Things were getting too 'touchy-feely' for my taste, and we still had a whole night of celebration ahead of us.

"That means a lot, dad," he grinned as I pulled away, "but you deserve the credit. Should I grab some cold ones so we can catch up?"

I smiled, enjoying the humility and respect I had instilled in my son's character. He more than deserved the reward I had planned: dinner an expensive steakhouse and a box of premium cigars. I threw a hand on his shoulder and opened my mouth to reveal the surprise!

Instead, the words, "Son I need to introduce you to our new neighbor," came out of my mouth: definitely not what I intended.

That seemed strange. I surely hadn't meant to say that; however, when I thought about it, I did seem to remember something the neighbor had mentioned yesterday. Maybe I had promised to introduce my son to him. It must have been a good idea, if I was suggesting it. I would have to hurry though because our reservation was soon, and I couldn't wait to see the look on Joel's face when he found out what I had planned!

"Uh, sure," Joel answered, waiting for an explanation, "Who is it?"

"He's a great man!" I instantly shouted, feeling overwhelmingly defensive about the newcomer. I wasn't sure why I felt that way because I could barely even remember the guy.

Joel flinched at my sudden outburst, but I brushed it off and led him out the back door. My son followed me through the gate and into the backyard of our next door neighbor. Somehow, I knew I was only supposed to enter from the back door. My hand dug into a nearby planting pot and found a spare key. I'm not exactly sure how I knew that was there, but I shrugged it off and unlocked the door.

Joel didn't question me, but he seemed mildly annoyed. I'm glad he didn't ask what I was doing because I had no clue! My body marched on autopilot down a short hallway and parked in the middle of a living room. Our neighbor seemed to be busy napping on his couch. My cheeks flushed when I realized I had just walked in on the man sleeping.

"Excuse me sir," my voice suddenly rang out loudly, "My son Joel is back from the army."

Joel glared at me in confusion, "Dad what-"

"Shut it, kid," the man on the couch snapped awake and stretched, "Come stand quietly in front of me so I can get a good look at you."

Joel's mouth shut tight at the man's request. He marched up to our neighbor and stood at attention. There was something strangely automatic about his movements, like they were choreographed ahead of time. I suppose this is just how they learn to act in the army.

"Hmm, yes," the neighbor purred from the couch, "You're sexier than your dad described."

My jaw clenched and my fists tightened! Why the hell was this guy making those kinds of comments about my son! I had never spoken with this weirdo, and I had certainly never described my son in that way!

If this guy wasn't careful, he was going to get a fight! I would of course stand and wait like a dumb bitch until I was dismissed, but once I was, I'd let him know! For now, I'll just try and contain myself.

"Why so red-faced," he turned a haughty look to me, "You remember our conversation yesterday, right Mr. Bitch?"

Suddenly, my memory flooded back. Of course I remembered! I'd popped by our new neighbor's house to introduce myself. He had invited me in and we'd gotten talking. I had bragged about how my parenting had yielded the perfect son. Our neighbor had then launched into a long and boring lecture.

My neighbor pointed out that I'd been pronouncing my surname wrong all these years! I'm a total idiot! It's 'Bitch' not 'Bishop!' He'd also changed my plans on how to celebrate my son's homecoming.

"Of, course I remember," I gasped dumbly as it all flooded back, "Sorry, sir. As you know, I can be a bit of a dumb bitch."

"Everyone knows that, old man. Do you even remember what you have to do whenever you enter my house?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, sir," I replied as the instructions came back to me, "I am to go to the bathroom, stick my head in the toilet, and flush it seven times."

"That's it! And don't forget to keep your mouth open when it flushes, you old fart" he cracked up and laughed at me.

I nodded and left my son with our new neighbor, reporting to the bathroom like I was supposed to. Sticking my face in his skid marked toilet was the worst part about coming over. How could I have forgotten something like that? Without hesitating, I dropped to the floor and dipped below the toilet water, keeping my jaw locked open like he had suggested. I blindly found the handle and flushed the first wave over my head.

"All done, sir!" I called loudly, feeling compelled to announce my achievement.

Everything above my neck has been thoroughly soaked by the swirly, and it was quickly dripping down my clothes. My favorite shirt was now drenched! I wanted badly to dry off with the towel nearby, but I somehow knew that I was supposed to leave the toilet water on me instead.

Trudging back into the living room, I tried to prevent puddles by soaking the dripping water into my clothes, but it didn't work very well.

"Joel? What are you doing, son?" I blurted when I found him on his hands and knees.

Joel gazed up at me with a bizarre look on his face. It was as if he didn't even understand what he was doing down on the floor. His eyes seemed unfocused, like they weren't really seeing what was going on around him.

Nevertheless, he glanced over his shoulder at our new neighbor. It was like he was looking for guidance. My eyes followed his and we both found ourselves looking to the stranger for what to do next.

"Go on, boy," our neighbor chided, "Tell Mr. Bitch how you feel."

"Please," I straightened up, "Just call me Bitch. We're all friends here." I didn't care if a puddle was pooling at my feet. My son clearly had something important to say to me.

"Ok, Daddy," Joel blankly answered the guy on the couch. Then he turned an empty gaze to me, "Bitch, I'm moving out of your house. I want to live with our new neighbor. I want to be his slave boy and serve him any way I can."

I felt compelled to agree. I almost told him I was happy for him, but something felt off. Something had been gnawing at the back of my head ever since my son had gotten home. This wasn't how our night was supposed to go. My son and I were supposed to be enjoying steaks and cigars right now!

I shook my head a little. Beads of water flew from my hair, and I couldn't shake how wrong I had been acting. Why had I just given myself a swirly? And why was my son making such delusional statements?

"Woah, there big guy," our creepy next door neighbor hushed, "You're thinking too hard. You remember what you like to do when you think too hard right, Bitch?"

I breathed a sigh of relief out of my chest my chest when I remembered, "Yes, sir. I like to shove your leftovers down my pants when I'm thinking to hard."

Without another thought, I strolled into the kitchen and yanked the fridge open with a numb arm. A euphoric sense of relaxation washed over me when I saw a container of leftover spaghetti. Before I knew what I was doing, my hands had popped the lid off and fished the noodles and red sauce down the inside of my dress slacks. Once the container was empty, I zipped up my pants like nothing had happened and returned to the living room.

"Feeling better, Bitch?" my neighbor asked.

My glassy eyes noticed my son crouched by the feet of our neighbor. Joel was busy cleaning the guy's shoes, and I couldn't be more happy. So what if this is what he wanted to do with his life? He could become our neighbor's sex slave for all I cared. It's not like I cared about the kid. If he really had a chance to serve a man as great as our neighbor, then who cares about serving our country!

"Yeaah..." I moaned lightly.

"You like my homemade spaghetti?" the neighbor chuckled meanly.

"Yeeaaah..." my voice came out drawn, "It feels really cold..."

"Man, you are a gross bitch, but I programmed you to fall deeper every time you humiliate yourself for me. Do you what I'm going to have you do next?"

"Nooo..."

"You're going to make your reservation at that restaurant," he looked me up and down, "And you'll go in those clothes you've soiled. Get drunk off your ass, alright Bitch? I want you to make a complete fool out of yourself."

I'd already turned to follow his orders when he turned back to my son, "I'm gonna play with little soldier boy here. Maybe I'll pass him around to my buddies so they can give him a try..."

I didn't hear what else was in store for Joel. I wasn't too bothered by my son. I'm sure he'd be able to make our neighbor happy. I was just excited to go to the steak house and start humiliating myself...

[hon3yteddy]

꒰ nct dream + intimate moments i want to experience 🍞 ꒱

synopsis: tbh idk but there thing i'd generally kill to experience (this is not a joke), and add some arson too if i get to do them with dream genre(s): established relationship, romance, tooth rotting fluff warning(s): mix use of tenses, severe symptoms of delusions and signs of parasocial relationship, not reread at all !!! author's note: hanging out with newjeans at the psych ward

#𝟎𝟐𝟎𝟖 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐋𝐄𝐄 . . .

― kind of cliché a cheesy... but slow dancing! mark's one of us - a hopeless romantic so he'd definitely be a sucker for a slow dance under the dim lights of your shared apartment. he'd perfectly time his movements after instantly recognising your favourite slow song (i recommend any song by laufey) drift from the kitchen as you prepare your dinner for the evening. he's heard the song too many times to count but mark never minded. he loved that about you - the little things, the big things, and everything in between.

just before the chorus, he'd slip behind you, guiding your hands with his own to carefully drop whatever you were holding, and clumsily twirl you round to face him. i can feel it in my bones that the man would do those knew weakening, borderline giggle, chuckle of his and gently pull your hand for a light kiss against the skin of your knuckles. you would find yourself resting one hand on his shoulder and the other being embraced tightly by his. mark always loves how close you feel when you're like this.

he would give you that look, the look you've seen a hundred times. it's the same one he gave you before he kissed you for the first time, the same one he wore when he finally got the guts to ask you on a date, that look so beautiful and real that your too much in a daze to notice him slip an arm around your waist. together you slowly sway to the beat of the song, forgetting the past and ignoring the future.

he holds you close, maybe too close even. yet none of that mattered. all that did was the way he was whisking you across the room, embracing you tight. feathered kisses, words of worship, lovesick eyes - truly a night to remember.

♡: mark, the foods going to burn... mk: guess so. but i'll eat anything made by you, burnt or not. ♡: the food is definitely burning right now!

#𝟐𝟑𝟎𝟑 𝐇𝐔𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐍 . . .

― renjun is a true artist and what is one of the most popular forms of art? paintings. he adores painting you, a truly enjoyable pastime. countless of times would you catch him sketching you, entrapping every detail of your soul onto a canvas or simply just the ripped page of a battered notebook. you have always been curious about his hobby so every now and then you'd have the honour of spending the hour painting with renjun.

there's something so dear about painting with someone you love. maybe it's the serenity, or the way the soul becomes so vulnerable yet so free on the canvas. whatever it was, things always felt so different when it would be the two of you.

evenings were always the time for such dates and soon enough the both of you would have long ago abandoned the canvases. it all had started when you had gotten frustrated with your piece of the day, for it could never compare to renjun's. so frustration took over, and you had painted a sad face on side of his face so very careful to not poke him in the eye. your shaky attempt at frown reminded you of the earlier days where it was socially acceptable to paint on one’s face and so you didn’t stop.

you enjoyed it and he could tell as he too abandoned his own piece to paint on you. the way he carefully held your giggling bod still and swirled his brush against your exposed skin from the blush of your cheeks, to the dent of your collarbones. you always found renjun prettier when he was focused and now he was focused on every part of you, adorning you with works of his own. yet none of his paintings could ever compete with the beauty of you. 

♡: you always make me look so beautiful, renjun. rj: you just simply are, that's all.

#𝟐𝟑𝟎𝟒 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐎 . . .

― jeno is a man sent from the heavens, carved by zeus himself and blesses the undeserving earth with his presence. basically, he's a sweet man with big, beefy arms you kinda just want to chomp and snuggle against. (the indescribable things i'd do to be embraced by the lee jeno can not be said aloud.)

cuddling is a simplistic show of affection and jeno must be the best person to hug in the whole world. a true safe place in this cruel world where you can finally let yourself be vulnerable and receive the love you oh so needed.

jeno loves hugging you. if it's after work, after a hard day, on the sofa, out of the blue, the man would be at your beck and cal. sometimes you didn't need to ask. he'd would be right there each and every time and he would love every hug he got to share with you. the thought of simply hugging you is everything to this lovesick puppy.

the hugs he loves the most are the ones you just needed the most. the ones where there was no need for an exchange of words or questioning eyes, just open arms. there was no other soul on this very earth who could make you feel so loved yet so weak in his arms that you could swear you could break, and sometimes you did. but he was there, and that's all you needed.

there's something so intense between each hug - tight embraces, soft hums, tender kisses, and the alignment of both your hearts. with each hug, jeno told you he loved you without the need for a single word.

jn: … (i love you) ♡: … (i love you too)

#𝟎𝟔𝟎𝟔 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 . . .

― now it's no surprise to us when i say haechan adores physical touch. he honestly invented the love language itself. so of course, the dude is very much in love with you and the act of kissing you. every chance he got, he kissed you every time. but if there was one thing haechan loves more than kissing you, it's you kissing him.

imagine just kissing every inch of this man who deserves all the love in the world! he loves it when you kiss his moles with whispered words of praise in between. he never lets you miss one and always points out one just to get another kiss.

he's a giggling mess and you are too. hiding underneath the bed covers, tracing your hands against his bare skin, enjoying the way he writhes in anticipation for your next kiss. it's a game you both enjoy too much.

don't worry, you always get your fair share of kisses. he loves kissing the details of your skin and he loves even more the reaction he earns with each one (cocky dude). there isn't a single part of you he dislikes. oh, and if you too are blessed with moles of your own, he'll find each and every one to give a tickling kiss. sometimes he'll call them stars, sometimes its the cute dots of ladybugs - every single blemish, scar and mole would be loved, for haechan is just utterly in love with your very being down to the last detail.

hc: you know moles are where your lover kissed you in your past life? ♡: really? you must have given me these then. hc: and in your next life, you’ll have so many more for me to kiss…

#𝟏𝟑𝟎𝟖 𝐍𝐀 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍 . . .

― bubble baths. i can't explain it easily, but there's something so romantic about bubble baths. jaemin isn't necessarily joining you, but if wants to, he can hop in my imagine bath tub. he's actually the one preparing them for you. he'll always want his lover to feel a tease, he could never let you drown yourself in stress.

every now and then he would prepare the perfect bubble bath, filling the tub with hot water, scented ointments, expensive soap and even a dash of petals. you can tell he enjoys doing it too as he'll usually greeted by the man himself at the door, wearing the proudest smile. he doesn't hesitate in sweeping you off your feet, always nagging for you to relax while he takes care of everything else.

he always prepares a lot, paying attention to every detail he knows you'll love. your favourite song plays, a calming scent drift from the candles he's lit, there'll always be a glass of your favourite drink by your side and your favourite pjs hang against the door for you to slip in after.

as you lay in the bath, wading your hands against the water that’s just right, you sometimes feel shy under jaemin’s attentive and kind gaze. You may even complain about it all being too much but he’s quick to hush you with a kiss. jaemin just wants you to enjoy the serenity every now and then, he can’t handle seeing the one he loves struggling. he enjoys spoiling you and he loves seeing your tense body finally give up and melt. this week he’ll read you a book as he sits beside the bathtub, not caring if you splash a little water onto him. the next he’ll let you enjoy a movie, and the one after, he’ll bring you a meal for you to enjoy whether that be a fast food burger or home cooked pasta. chivalry could never be dead with jaemin around.

jm: it's time you to take a break! ♡: you already did this for me like last week! jm: it's not illegal for you to take regular breaks, okay?

#𝟐𝟐𝟏𝟏 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐄 . . .

― you know that genre of romance scenes where the main couple help the other put on a necklace, fix a tie, button up their shirt, brush their hair etc, that - all of that. the simplicity of getting ready with a lover is so dreamy and chenle is indeed the man of everyone's dream.

the intensity shared between the two of you is unmatched. the bliss silence, hesitant touches, enchanted eye contact... gosh i'm blushing. when he stands behind you, letting his fingers graze the back of your neck to clasp the new necklace he's bought you. a compliment leaves his lips to touch upon the shell of your ear. he never dares to hide from your watchful eyes in the reflection and neither do you.

chenle lets his fingers glide down you bare back to zip the material of your outfit together. he holds you still while his hand painstakingly slowly moves up your spine for him to stop with a soft “all done”, enamoured by you and only you. and when he places you in front of the vanity mirror, threading his fingers through your hair, taking his time in watching, no, worshipping your very being in a blissful silence

the tension would almost be too much to bear. the way he gazes down at you while your busy fixing the tie he has clearly messed up on purpose. he always catches himself enjoying it all too much. something about the close proximity, focused eyes and building tension that's got his knees on the verge of buckling. just every moment chenlesees you, he swears he's fallen in love with you all over again.

cl: so b- ♡: you're going to call me beautiful again, aren't you?

#𝟎𝟓𝟎𝟐 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆 . . .

― now me and mr park jisung don't have a lot in common, but we do share the epitome of being awkward (he just pulls it off better than me. so it's fair to say that hand holding would get jisung weak in the knees. he's just a tall grown man with the soul of a little child and who's hopelessly in love with you.

and i must say, jisung has got the prettiest hands i've ever seen, no wonder you can't hold yourself back from slipping your hands into his. it makes him jump every time but he'd hold hands with you forever if he could.

it begins with the two of you walking side by side and a noticeable brush of hands. then a classic pinkie lock comes into play and jisung is in a mess already. and finally you'll intertwine your fingers with his once again. it's shock to his poor heart every time it occurs. he'd never let his eyes meet your face, he's far to weak to look at your beautiful face. he would simply falter and break under your loving gaze.

hand holding is a timeless classic move that is every loner's dream. does jisung wish he could experience the sensation of holding hands with you for the first time? very much so!

♡: you're adorable, jisung. js: … (internal monologue about how much he's in love with you)

january 2023 © hon3yteddy

[the-fiction-witch]

No Girls?

Media The Maze Runner : Death Cure

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Smutty / Flirty

Concept A Glade with No Girls

Smut: Sexy Discussions / Sexual Language / Semi Nudity

I sat watching the ocean shift and change with each of its little waves, the ship to the side being worked on relentlessly by anyone with enough skill to do so. I sat repairing various clothes and tent flaps that had been dropped off to me a skill I'd always used and honestly enjoyed something about sitting down with a needle and some thread was so very calming indeed. But I wasn't alone I had newt beside me one of the group A boys who had gotten cosy with Vince I got along with most of them but newt especially we had a comfort with each other I suppose he had a day off from his usual work welding and cutting metal work on the ship a task Vince trained him in as his steady hand was well suited for it. But today he was resting his ankle up sitting with me as I worked. 

"Why didn't you try a big ladder?'

"We did. Couldn't build one big enough."

"What about like scaffolding?'

"Y/n I don't know how else to explain this to you the walls were too big to do that." 

"Did you try a big stick?" I asked and he glared at me "do like a pole vault" 

"Your really just not getting how big these walls are"

"No if it's a wall it can be scaled." 

"Okay so if you could get to the top then what?"

"Walk along the top."

"That doesn't connect. And moves every night"

"Fine. Still sounds dull"

"Says the girl who lived in a shopping centre with a bunch of cranks for two years"

"I wore stylish pre apocalypse fashion, ate so many fancy candies and slept on a whole bed of teddy bears. My life was awesome" 

"Sure sounds like it" he laughed

"So how many girls again?'

"One"

"Ooohh bet you boys fought over her. Or what she just one of those free love types who'd let all of you straight boys at her"

"No, she was only in the glade a week so"

"How long were you in there?'

"Three years"

"And you had one girl for a week?'

"Yeah'

"I'm surprised she got out the box without being drowned"

"...by what?" 

"A river of goo"

He glared at me again "we didn't all immediately jizz ourselves when we saw a girl"

"Really? Cause I think sixty boys in a large maze together for three years would be pretty hyped for a girl. Except the gay guys they probably didn't care all that much. Bisexuals hyped over threewaY possibilities. Asexuals wouldn't really care either" I explained

"I mean Thomas may have jizzed himself but that's because she's his girlfriend"

"Ohh. But you really spent three years with nothing but big smelly boys?"

"Yeah, and it wasn't that bad we had showers"

"Yeah I know what boys are like you showered once in a month if your lucky"

"...true." he sighed 

"Didn't you have buckets too?'

"Yeah for klunk" 

"Did you have laundry?'

'not really. Just brush it off if it gets dirt on it"

"Ugggh I get why the one girl lasted a week she probably couldn't stand the smell, sweaty smell unwashed teenage boys who don't wash their laundry and have shit buckets, all allowed to fester and go all sour"

"Okay now you say it… we probably were disgusting" 

"You shower more now right?"

"Every other day, I would everyday but the showers aren't that private…" 

"Awwww you shy newt?" I giggled

"Shy? Don't want people seeing my dick? Whatever you wanna call it" 

"But really no girls?"

"No girls."

"Awwww poor newtie spent all the formative teen time without anything to imagine" 

"I can imagine. I have an imagination"

"But you spent all that time without comparison. From when you where a tiny baby boy to now big strong boy" I smiled leaning on his shoulder 

"It wasn't that bad"

"What did you use to do? At night?"

"Sleep?"

"Newt, you were trapped in their from what 13 onwards. Your really going to try and tell me you didn't.. you know after lights out" 

"Did you?'

"Constantly I was bored. It helps me sleep"

"Do you… still?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Just… curious" he blushed "no, I uhh never really had time, or the privacy"

"Awwwwww poor newtie." I giggled hugging him tightly and immediately I noticed "hi"

"Hi"

"Be careful with that I only just repaired those pants newt" I warned him going back to my sewing as he turned bright red "newt?'

'yes?" 

"You ever seen boobs?"

"... How much boob?"

"How much have you seen?"

"I saw Teresa's in her shirt… and also a little down her shirt"

"Dirty boy"

"She was laying down it wasn't intentional!"

"That it?"

"That's it" 

"You ever touched a boob?"

"Nope"

"You ever seen ass?"

"I mean I've seen Minho. And fry. Infact most boys"

"I meant girls"

"No."

"Ever seen a? Lady area?"

"No,"

"... would you want to?" I asked 

He went bright red stuttering a lot barely able to make eye contact with me "I mean uhhh well I uhh I guess I uhh what I mean is uhh kinda"

I chuckled and finished my last few stitches throwing my finished work in the basket "you're sweet newt" I smiled moving to stand In Front of him and I lifted my shirt long enough for him to look before dropping it back down and giving his cheek a kiss even if he was basically frozen with his eyes wide in place "see you later" I laughed taking my basket and headed back to camp 

[bumblesimagines]

Marcus Baker

you never gave me back my things.

i was hoping i'd see you again.

i never like how it ended between us.

you never gave me back my things.

i was hoping i'd see you again.

i never like how it ended between us.

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, Gender Neutral!Reader

You released a sigh of relief as you slumped back in the chair and released the pencil, giving your aching hand a much-needed break. You rubbed the area between your thumb and index finger, pleased to have finally finished the five-page essay for English class. You were certain if you had to read another ancient poem and write an essay about it again, you'd have a breakdown alongside your classmates. But with the pressure of the deadline disappearing, you looked forward to taking a break from classwork. 

You stood up from the table and collected the papers, carefully slipping them into a folder and then sliding the folder into your backpack. You nodded to the other students studying and working at the table before slinging your backpack over your shoulder and making a beeline for the doors. As much as you loved the school's library, you never wanted to step foot in it again for at least two weeks. 

"Hey, (Y/N)!" A voice called out, attempting to be quiet but still getting dirty looks from those nearby. Marcus dipped his head apologetically and whispered a few 'sorry's before facing you and offering a sheepish, equally as apologetic smile. 

Before Virginia Miller had strolled into Wellsbury, you might've greeted Marcus with a kiss and told him all about your day. You might've taken his hand, listened to his troubles, and given him as much advice and reassurance as he needed. But he'd chosen to ruin the relationship you'd poured so much time into over a girl he hardly knew well. You half-expected them to boldly continue their secret relationship as an official couple now, but all you saw were longing looks from her and an exhausted-looking Marcus.

"I heard you were going to start tutoring again and- and was wondering if you could help me with homework? I'll pay you, obviously. I don't have a lot but-"

"Silver's looking, too. I can pass her your number and she'll help you with whatever you need, Marcus." You told him, turning on your heel and stepping out of the library. The door shut behind you, only to open again as Marcus followed. The Bakers seemed like a notoriously stubborn family, and yet they'd been a family you once wished to become a part of.

"Actually, I was hoping I'd see you again. I-I wanted to talk about everything, you know? I didn't like how it ended between us." Marcus explained, occasionally stumbling over his words as he quickened his pace to catch up with you. 

"Oh, you mean how you spent months secretly hooking up with your neighbor who was in a relationship with one of your sister's friends and I found out at the same time as everyone else because you didn't have the balls to tell me you didn't want to be with me anymore? It would've saved me a whole lot of trouble, Marcus. And by the way, you never gave me back my things."

Marcus quickened his step again and stepped in front of you, his hands shooting out to grab your forearms and force you to stop. You pursed your lips, your jaw clenching briefly and head tilting to finally look him in the eye. "I fucked up, and I'm really sorry, (Y/N). And I didn't tell you about Ginny because I didn't want to break up. I-I-I was an asshole, I know that. I don't know what I was thinking but I knew I didn't want to lose you. I was confused and-"

"You were confused for nearly a whole year, Marcus? I seriously doubt that. Like I said, you would've saved me a lot of trouble being honest. Besides, if Ginny really wanted you, she wouldn't have gotten with Hunter." You brushed his arms away and stepped back. "Please, just drop this Marcus. It's over and it'll stay over. Maybe I'll forgive you and we'll become friends again but... I don't really want you in my life right now."

[dribs-and-drabbles]

The things I loved about Last Twilight ep 11:

Night joking with Day about not farting whilst stood at his hospital bedside...the same place Mhok then wears a shirt with 'Proud' on it later as Night explains Porjai's baby's name is Poomjai - which translates to 'be proud' - harking back to the Fart Proudly shirt from ep 2. 👏🏼

Mhok's 'St Louis Blues' shirt at the beginning of the ep setting us up for all the heartache later:

"I hate to see the evening' sun go down...

...I got them Saint Louis Blues; just as blue as I can be

He's got a heart like a rock cast in the sea

Or else he wouldn't have gone so far away from me"

"You're not disappearing on me, are you? / If you can see again, don't disappear on me." | "I can't see" | "Let's break up"

Mhon, Day's mom, watching Day and Mhok through the hospital room door and slowly warming up to their relationship. Explaining that she's not against them dating but that she's concerned that Day needs someone who has the means to take care of him. Inviting him to be there when Day takes his bandages off, effectively inviting him into the family circle, giving him a chance.

Day reassuring Night that he doesn't need to feel guilty still when the operation doesn't work. 😭

This shot in particular, as the series has shown us before, Mhok is Day's eyes:

"True blindness is the inability to see any hope" and Day's singular tear.

I'm mentioning it again but Mhok wearing a shirt with 'proud' on it with Day in a shirt with 'goodtime / nice dream come true' on it, whilst Night tells Porjai she should be proud to have carried the baby alone, and for both Porjai and Night to have gotten the dream family -> her baby and a wonderful parent/soon-to-be-spouse.

But also them wearing those shirts during dinner with Day's mom and Night - a dream for Mhok to be accepted and both Mhok and Day being proud of Mhok's achievements. #proud

Food as a love language -> come eat with us, try this food I created and cooked and gave to my two sons and now I'm offering it to you...be part of our family.

Without realising perhaps, Mhon sows the seed of pressure on Mhok to be able to provide for Day when they're talking in the hospital when she says she just wants someone who can really take care of him - who has the means to do it. And then in letting Day go to Songkhla with Mhok to test whether they can live together, she's increasing the pressure Mhok feels. Which then gets amplified during the car accident and when Day doesn't answer the phone. All this leads to his decision to not leave Day.

The parallels of Day/Mhok and Porjai/Night when it comes to roles in their relationships. Night says he doesn't understand what his mom means when she says 'being a caretaker and a boyfriend are two different things' - now, we haven't seen much of Night and Porjai's relationship but I'd be willing to bet he's being more of a caretaker to Porjai than a boyfriend at the moment - he calls her Khun, she brushes off any suggestion that something is going on between them, and she goes to live with her mom... I wonder if we'll see Night coming to an understanding about this differentiation in ep 12, and whether it will play a role in helping Day and Mhok's relationship 🤔

TOTO!! I had been waiting for an appearance by Au. By the way, Day's new caretaker in ep 10 (the rude one from the end of the interviews in ep 1) is also an assistant director on the show, Meng Chaiyapat, so that's two cameos. I wonder if we'll get a third with Aof.

Mhok's blue lightening underpants! Plus the parallel of Mhok waking Day up with the dripping wet hair on his face.

How gestures and touches serve as a language for Day and Mhok - touching the lips as a way to communicate that one wants to kiss for example - and that touch in general is so weighted for them...but that they also use these things to trick and keep teasing each other.

The green and blue towel hanging next to each other over the airer in Day and Mhok's room. 😭

Mhok's 'Hawaii' shirt when he tells Day he wasn't chosen to go. (I missed this the first time round).

The way Day actually is giving it the most on the dance floor and genuinely deserved to win but can't see/understand that. Day automatically assumes that every good thing that comes his way is because people pity him. It's not surprising that this is the fear he falls back on when he finds out Mhok lied to him. This is his go-to gut reaction/response. That and feeling like he's a burden or causing trouble to others.

THE 'I LOVE YOU SO DAMN MUCH' CONFESSION SCENE. Mhok's face, the way the depths of his feelings settle within him just before he says it, the callback to the 'come closer' moment they had earlier in the ep, Day's voice cracking as he says it back, and the hug afterwards. It's all so perfect and not enough people are talking about it dammit.

Night in Mhok's blue, even Mhon has a blue dressing gown over her grey pjs, but Day is in that pink and white shirt but the pink is only over half of his body, and not on his left side over his heart, spelling trouble ahead. And as @grapejuicegay pointed out - it's not a groove mindset kind of a day, it's a rains county. The colours are colouring and the t-shirts are t-shirting.

The PARALLELS. "Read this to me" harking back to ep 1 when Day asked Mhok to read something to him, and now Day asking Mhok to read the paper. What was the text on Mhok's blue bag? 'I love to hear your voice'...? Ooof, hits hard.

Mhok respecting Day's last wish like he did when he burst into Day's room and got fired, and when he took Day up the mountain and offered to quit to appease his mom. Mhok is just so good.

"Mom, did I do the right thing?" Day realising immediately that he was too impulsive. 💔

[thestarstoasun]

Part 1

Blue eyes met worried dark ones. Instantly, he heard Nico's voice, but he couldn't make out what he said. Will tried to pinpoint where all of the pain was coming from, but everything just felt wrong. It took much of his willpower to focus on his surroundings, well those outside of the beautiful dark-haired boy we had woken up to.

The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in the infirmary. While it made the instinct to not look for his older brother whom he knew wouldn't be there easy to ignore, it also made him feel uneasy. Where were they? How had they gotten here?

"-olace. Will!" Nico's accented voice cut through his thoughts. A cold hand holding tightly to his overheating one.

"You sound like an angel." Will wasn't sure why his mouth didn't get the memo that admiring Nico in dire situations normally stays in his thoughts, but before he could try to form any coherent way of "taking it back" Nico's cheeks tinted pink, and suddenly it was well worth it.

"Don't think compliments and flattery are going to save your ass." The pale boy scowled, though it was hardly as affective as it should have been. "Honestly, what the Hades were you thinking?"

Will tried to filter through his brain for any recollection of what Nico could be referring to, but it seemed his brain still hadn't caught up with the present. He was happy to be able to lift his hand to brush against Nico's cheek with confused eyes. "I don't understand. Where are we? What happened?"

Nico seemed to tense up and let out a quiet sigh. "We're still in Tartarus, Will. Right now, we are in the hut that belongs to Damasen. Small Bob brought us here." Will nodded and bit the inside of his cheek.

“Is he- is he around?” Will couldn't help but wince at how weak and pathetic his voice sounded. He was sure Nico noticed, but his boyfriend didn't say a word about it. “Damasen went out to find something that may help you. I fed you some ambrosia earlier..Will, I'm sorry. Shit, if I paid more atten-”

The blonde leaned up (much to the protest of his body) and grabbed Nico by the boy's aviator jacket and pulled him in for a kiss. It was short and sweet, but exactly what they both needed. “It's alright, Nico. I'd do anything for you.” Even if he couldn't exactly remember what happened, he could piece things together. After all, he wasn't stupid. Waking up in the hut of someone who was said to help with healing, Nico's worried eyes, ambrosia, Lee, all of it fell into place. Will had taken a near-fatal blow for Nico…and he would do it again in a heartbeat.

“If anything, I should be the one apologizing to you. I know how much you've lost people and I-”

“William Andrew Solace, if you apologize for saving my life so help me.” Nico was looking at the ground, shaking his head. His voice was filled with fond exasperation. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You could take care of me? Nurse me back to health?” Will could feel his cheeks heating up. Before this trip, it was something he would have never mentioned. Will Solace was not someone who got taken care of. Will Solace took care of others. Will Solace smiled through the pain. Will Solace didn't allow himself to break down or cry. Will Solace had to be a ray of sunshine in everyone's life. Will Solace had no darkness inside of him…

Or did he? Ever since his meeting with the goddess Persephone, Will couldn't help but think of all the times he so desperately wanted to cry for his big brothers. The hatred he felt towards Percy for months after the Battle of Manhattan, despite knowing it wasn't his fault. (He only didn't let Will look for Michael, but it's fine. Will has accepted it.) All of the times he felt like breaking under the pressure of being the perfect older brother and head counselor.

The truth was that Will Solace did have darkness inside of him - it was just hidden by the overwhelming light. Trust is a two-way road, and if he wants Nico to give him trust, he needs to show that he trusts Nico in return. Will wants to show Nico his darkness. He wants to allow himself to be cared for once again. It's a revelation that shocks him more than probably anything else so far on this trip, though it's not over yet. They still have to find Bob the Titan.

“Yeah, I'll take care of you.” Nico's voice is so soft that Will almost misses it, but he doesn't miss the comforting squeeze the cold hand in his warm one brings.

“Nico, can I tell you about my older brothers?”

“Go ahead, Will. We have a little time to rest.” Those soft brown eyes looked at him with such understanding and love that Will felt things were gonna be alright for the first time in a while.

[rosewould]

cool off; ldh

🖱️⤻ pairing; afab!reader x haechan 🖱️⤻ word count; 4.6k 🖱️⤻ genre; smut & fluff 🖱️⤻ synopsis; haechan lets you in on a practice room secret that leads to a new hang out buddy during practice 🖱️⤻ warnings; unprotected sex (this is getting ridiculous), oral play (hyuck receiving), piv, doggy style, dirty talk, pet name (angel), public sex(?), switch!ish, soft but fun

⌨️⤻ How’s this for a meet cute lol. This is not accurate because Haechan oozes confidence. Most of my works aren’t accurate tho bc I don’t know them so it’s alright.

"See you guys at the dorm." Johnny tacked on just before exiting the practice room. Mark and Haechan don't answer, just collapse to the floor. Their chests heave in unison as they lie under the vent. All the sweat that was bothersome ten minutes ago was now welcome as it chilled under the cool air. Being comfortable with each other, they felt no need to voice any of their thoughts or fill the air with conversation, Haechan and Mark just sat quietly and enjoyed their moment of rest. It was easy to forget where they were this way.

After what felt like hours of lying under the vent, they jump as they hear the door click open. Expecting a member that forgot something made for a lot of confusion when you peek your head through the door. You gasp, eyes blowing wide before you pull your head back and close the door. Mark and Haechan stare at the closed door as you and a choreographer go back and forth.

"What's the matter? Go back in there." The manager chuckles.

"There are two members of NCT in there!" You whisper the name like it's some forbidden word. 

"It's fine! I'm pretty sure they're on their way out. Just go in there with them!"

"Are you crazy?!"

Haechan had never seen your face before. No regular trainees were allowed in this practice room. Only debuted idols, groups preparing for debut, and special trainees. Any of those were possible, but what if...

"You think that's her?" Haechan rolls his head toward Mark with raised eyebrows.

"What? No way." Mark continues to stare at the door, hiding his disbelieving look from Haechan. "Well..." He lifts his shoulders, quirking one of his brows, "I guess it could be. But what are the odds? We were just talking about her and now she's here."

"Good odds, I'd say." Haechan mumbles, lifting his body slightly to peer over Mark at the door.

Some of the boys thought you were a pain. Technically, you weren't a proper trainee. Just someone the CEO really wants to be one, so he's giving you the full star treatment. Letting you practice here, use their studio to produce songs (hopefully more for their artists), and even let you around the artists themselves. None of them have ever seen you, for reasons that are now apparent, but the fact that the company was allowing this was unbelievable. Some may even say unfair. Haechan just thinks you've proved your talent enough to open doors. How could he not admire that?

"How many amazing producers have we had? None of them have gotten this treatment." Said Johnny a few days prior. "She's probably just pretty." He brushes off.

He was wrong. You weren't pretty. If you were truly who Haechan thought you were, you were absolutely breathtaking. Haechan swallows hard.

--🖱️▷

"Good job!"

You groan loudly, completely blocking out the choreographer's praise as you flop to the floor. "It's hot!"

"Well!" She claps her hands together before continuing. "We'll practice again tomorrow. And by that I mean we're practicing together tomorrow. Don't you dare stop practicing on your own." She scolds and you groan again. 

This is what was expected of you. You wanted to be a soloist for the sake of your irrational fear of all your members hating you. It's just a little easier on your social anxiety this way you told yourself. Now you have to work twice as hard. All eyes are on you. Was all this worth it? Should you just go back to being behind the scenes? You did enjoy singing and dancing. Being an idol was something you dreamed of since you were a little girl. But perhaps you were being a little unrealistic. Maybe you're just not cut out for this... 

Why is it so hot?

You stand up from the ground, sweat was starting to collect on your back. Plus, the heat was accumulating from lying there. You wander around the room, in search of relief before you continue practicing. 

As if the heavens themselves open up above your head, a cool gust of air hits your body and you all but faint. "That feels so nice." You breathe, sweat trickling down your neck. Your body goes rigid as the door creaks open. 

From across the room, you stare at Haechan like a deer caught in headlights. He chuckles to himself before he makes his way toward you, noting the way your limbs draw together like you're trying to physically shrink into yourself. Haechan plants himself right in front of you. You try to look at his face but you're so flustered it's almost debilitating. Did you do something wrong? Were he and his members not actually done as your choreographer suggested? Was he about to chew you out?

Haechan huffs, resting his hands on his hips before looking at the ceiling. The corner of his mouth twitches. He inhales slightly, tilting his head back down before fixing his eyes on your anxious face. 

"You know, it actually feels better if you lay down."

You finally build the courage to look up at him. Once you do, you find it hard to look away. The way his face melts into a warm smile makes your heart do flips. Your tongue darts out to wet your increasingly dry lips. "R-really?"

Haechan's smile grows. "Yeah." He chuckles. "When you stand up, it only hits your head and shoulders, maybe your arms a little bit. When you lay down, it hits everything, and it's easier to relax." 

You nod, but it's hard to focus on anything else but every muscle that moves on your body. You're just wondering if this celebrity noticed how hard you just gulped in front of him. 

"Try it." Haechan takes a step back, gesturing toward the wooden floor. You blink up at him before whispering a small 'oh'. You awkwardly settle onto the floor, feeling utterly embarrassed as Haechan watches you lie on the floor. As soon as your back hits it, you gasp. The crisp air hits the entire front half of your body. It's almost too cold as it cools every drop of sweat exposed to it. 

"See?" Haechan raises his eyebrows and you nod again. 

"Thank you for showing me this." You say quietly, eyes moving everywhere but on him. You clear your throat.

"Is something wrong?" 

"No... it's just... this is kinda weird." You gesture up at him from the floor.

"Ah!" 

You watch in awe as Haechan lowers himself to the floor as well, lying right next to you. You can't possibly ignore how close your hands are to touching. "Is this better?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure if it is." You say bluntly, turning your head to look at him. Bad idea. He has these round puppy dog eyes. The kind that could melt ice cream with their intense warmth. You would verbally swoon if you were out of your mind. 

"What, is there something on my face?" Haechan instinctively wipes the corners of his mouth. Just then you get a bright idea. Nothing breaks you out of that ‘this is painfully awkward please end this interaction immediately’ phase faster than some lighthearted joking.

"Mhm," you nod before pointing at his forehead. "right... here."

"Really?!" He stands up and hobbles toward the huge wall of mirrors you forgot about. You see, he was supposed to ask you to guide him to the spot and after a few seconds of misdirection you'd go 'just kidding!' and laughter would hopefully ensue.

What were you supposed to do now?! Now he was behind you and it'd be awkward to turn around and say 'just kidding!' from the floor, should you get up-

"Where? I don't see anything?"

You plant your palm firmly on your face.

"Wait... did you trick me?" Haechan laughs loudly in disbelief as he walks back over to tower over your body. 

"Yeah." You say after you've had your fill of facepalming.

"Ha!" He laughs again before kneeling beside you. "Are you embarrassed?" He narrows his eyes at you. 

"Yeah." You repeat before snorting.

"Okay." Haechan crosses his legs before pursing his lips. "I'm a little insulted that you just successfully embarrassed me without even being confident in your own prank." He nods slowly, clearing his throat awkwardly. You giggle, covering your mouth.

"I'm sorry." You squeak, closing your eyes.

"No, it's okay." He draws out the 'no', clearly not sincere in his consolation. "Just a little pathetic." He gestures with his fingers to illustrate how little. You gawk at him in disbelief. 

"Huh?"

"I mean, my little cousin can pull off that prank perfectly. He's seven." Haechan rests his hand on your shoulder to further his faux consolation.

"Hey!" You sit up from the floor. "This is not making me feel better."

"Good, you made me think I had something on my face while I was talking to a pretty girl."

You gasp before slapping your hand over your mouth. Haechan rolls his eyes. "Oh, what? You don't know that you're pretty?"

"I-I mean... I-I don't know..." You stammer like an idiot.

"Well you are. And that's putting it lightly." He leans forward, resting his elbows on his legs as he peers up at you. Saying such pretty words with those constellation-filled eyes. If your heart was doing flips earlier, it was doing an entire gymnastics routine now. You play with your fingers, tearing your gaze away from him. You weren't sure how to respond. You were never good at taking compliments about your appearance.

"I uh... I have to continue practicing." You point your thumb behind you before settling it back into your lap. 

"Oh, right." Haechan nods as he stands up from the floor. "Practicing is important."

"But we can talk another time." It sounds more like a suggestion than an act of disclosure, but just to be sure you don't sound too pushy you tack on a "Right?" at the end.

Haechan exhales amusedly. "Of course, how else are you gonna learn the ins and outs of the practice room?"

--🖱️▷

You didn't learn much, but you were definitely much cooler. You spent every break you had lying on the floor with Haechan. It wasn't the most picturesque location, but you didn't mind it. Spending time with him made it easy to ignore the strangeness of lying on the floor. It was a bit harder to ignore once his members started calling you his "floor buddy", but it wasn't too humiliating. Even less so since Haechan never protested. Seems like he didn't mind it either.

If he were honest, he doesn't understand why he catches you staring at him. What is more puzzling was the way you get flustered when he brings it up. 

"You're not gonna prank me again, are you?" Haechan looks at you with suspicion sewn into his expression. You press your fingers to your cheek like you're checking their temperature.

"No! I'm not."

"Just checking now that I know you're this big prankster."

You throw your head back against the floor in defeat. You don't stand a chance against Haechan's teasing. He always manages to make you tap out. 

"No, but really..." Haechan starts and you turn your head toward him. "Why are you always staring at me?" He tries to keep a straight face, but his confusion seeps through when his eyebrows furrow slightly. Your mouth hangs open as your eyes dart around the room. Truthfully, you had no honest answer that didn't make you seem suspicious. You're sure some people think you're a rich brat who's here just to hang around idols and ogle at them. Admitting to Haechan that that's exactly what you were just doing felt wrong. Could he trust you enough to continue hanging out with you after that? Perhaps keeping it a secret was worse, but perhaps you were okay with being a little bit selfish. Being with Haechan was making all this grueling practice bearable. 

"Uhh... subject change! How was that variety show-"

"Nice try. Actually, horrible try. Why would you announce-?"

"I don't know." You hide your face in your hands, muffling the incoming whines.

"So tell me what I need to know." Haechan shifts his body to the side, resting his head on his hand. Your eyes flicker around the room, feeling something uncomfortable stirring inside your stomach. Not only would Haechan find out that you were ogling him, but he'd also find out you thought he was attractive this whole time. There's no way a confession like that would leave your relationship unscathed. Sure, Haechan says it all the time. But his excuse of 'it's just a fact' was starting to work on you. The way he'd nonchalantly shrug his shoulders after every "you're beautiful" was believable. Your heart reacted nonetheless. 

There's no way you'd be able to play it off as a simple observation. You'd gulp and stammer and squirm, no doubt about it. But there was no backing out of this apparently, so here goes nothing.

"I-I think you're very handsome, Haechan." You try to keep your eyes on his blinking ones, but ultimately fail. You groan, hiding your face again.

"Haha. Very funny."

You peel your hands from your face to peer at Haechan who had turned off his side. "Funny?"

"You're getting better at the pranks, I'll admit it." He laughs dryly.

"What prank? Haechan, I'm serious." You maneuver closer to him, puzzled by his reaction. He flops his head to the side, a scrutinizing look on his face.

"You don't have to lie to make me feel better. Like I said, you're pretty and that's just a fact. You don't have to try and return the compliment."

You lie there quietly for a moment as he fixates back on the vent. "Do you seriously think I'm pretending to stare at you?"

"More like there's a different reason you're doing so."

"What? Like me thinking you're ugly or something? That's not it at all!"

He sighs. "Don't lie."

You push yourself up with your elbow, ready to pour your heart out about how he makes you go crazy every time you see his face, but you get a different idea. One that fills your body with nervous excitement. You overcome the nerves as you look at his face again. The slight annoyance on his face made him look irresistibly adorable. Those damned puppy dog eyes glitter like the stars. How soft his caramel-tinted skin looks. His lips look... inviting. You grab his face, smushing it between your hands as you deliberate once more. He looks at you in confusion before you lean down slowly and press your lips to his.

It was a short and sweet kiss, lips still adhered for a moment as you pull away. His lips glisten with the lip balm that transferred to them. He was dazed, and a bit shocked for a moment, but soon enough his lids grew heavier as he sits up and dives in for another kiss. Just as sweet as before, but with a bit more longing. Both of his hands made their way to your jaw, fingertips sneaking into the nape of your hair. 

He tasted like mint and the sugar from whatever he was snacking on earlier. His lips brushed against yours as he readjusted to suck on your bottom lip. You sigh against him, fingers finding the back of his shirt before clenching onto it. You felt dizzy, almost like you were drunk. That must be what was stopping you from stopping this. Someone could walk in at any moment. Hell, someone could walk past and peek in. This was not safe for either of you, but none of that mattered more than your need to feel and taste each other.

You tasted so fucking good. Your vanilla-flavored lip balm was the cherry on top. It made both of your mouths soft and slick so your lips glide against each other with more ease. Haechan was getting riled up fast. More than anyone, he should stop before he does something stupid like acting on his primal urges. Urges that grew stronger when he tugs on your hair, eliciting a pretty noise from you. He pulls away with a chuckle. "Having fun, angel?"

You miss his lips already, so much that you feel spontaneous. You lift your thumb toward his bottom lip, smoothing your thumb along the plump flesh. You're mesmerized by your own actions, and he's mesmerized by you. 

"What has gotten into you?" He asks in a hushed voice.

"Haechan..." You start, still staring at his lips. "You're so hot," You finally look at him, watching as his eyes go wide, "so annoyingly, devastatingly hot. Not just your face, but how you talk, how you carry yourself. I... I just can't get enough of you." You rush out before heaving as you stare into his eyes. It was a bit entertaining to watch him be the one flustered by compliments. Seems like the teddy bear can dish it but not take it. You smile with a giggle. "You're so sexy Haechan-"

"Shut up." He crashes his lips against yours, pushing you over so that you're laying on your back. He rests his hands beneath your head, lifting it up so he can move his lips against yours properly. You feel something protruding against your stomach. You gasp lightly against his mouth, yearning stronger for him when he bites your lip. “You talk too much.” He growls.

He was doing a great job at shutting you up. You were too preoccupied with trying to inconspicuously push forward for a better feel of his bulge. You couldn’t even do it a second time before he catches on to what you’re doing. He shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you. “You are just full of surprises.”

He slides lower until the outline of his heavy member is resting directly on your mound. You can feel his thick shaft so vividly through the thin cotton of your shorts and underwear. “This what you want?” He quirks up an eyebrow at you. You nod, though your lip caught in your teeth and wanton expression already gave it away. 

“Okay,” Haechan sits up on his knees, ceasing all friction. Your hips chase his, huffing when you can’t reach him.

“Take it.” He nods at his steadily hardening member. Settling on your forearms, you look at him confusedly. “I wanna see how many more surprises you have for me.” He smirks, voice deep, shooting right to your core. He looks so cocky. Unlike most men, it fits him so well. His lowered lids with a slanted smile suggested he didn’t think you were capable of taking the lead. 

With how flustered you constantly are, Haechan expects you to be a whimpering, whiny mess in bed. He’d find it cute, of course, but he wants to see you act with a little confidence. Someone who looks like you should be the most confident motherfucker around. 

He was always teasing you and gaining the upper hand with his certitude and wit. After getting a taste of how he acted when he was flustered, you needed to experience it more. So you lean forward, sliding your legs from under him and pushing him back. You catch a glimpse of a shocked expression as you press a splayed hand against his chest and it nourishes your determination. With a single, swift motion you pull the bow his drawstring was tied in loose. He watches eagerly as you push his pants down, lifting his hips to aid the process.

The sight of his more prominent outline makes your mouth go dry. His tan thighs are a sight you could get used to. You run your hands up his thighs, feeling how hot his skin is and how it erupts in goosebumps at your touch. You move them further until they’re resting on either side of his member. He puffs out a frustrated exhale. 

“I’d love to take my time with you angel but we haven’t got all day.”

You grin up at him mischievously. And who said you weren’t good at teasing? If the Donghyuk from the first day you met saw how you slid his underwear down his legs and looked hungrily at his hard cock he wouldn’t believe his eyes. Not that he’s any less surprised right now. Your eyes are blown out as you inspect his phallus. Sufficiently veiny and thick, making up for where it lacks in length. You brush your fingers up the shaft, feeling the silky skin. He hisses, face tensing as he watches. He switches between watching your hand and your curious eyes before he exhales amusedly.

“You’re a virgin aren’t you?”

You place your entire hand along the base to get a proper measurement. The angle of it solidifies in your mind how well it’ll hit your g-spot.

“Nope.” You push him down so his upper body is flat against the floor. There’s a fondness to his gaze that lights a fire behind your cheeks. You lower yourself between his legs and begin kissing up his thighs. Just this is enough for Haechan. He makes a mental note to let you mark up his thighs when there’s more time to spare. But for now, he wants you to get on with it.

“Need I remind you where we are, angel?” His face pinches in pleasure when you plant a kiss on his balls. You ignore him and seek out that reaction again, sucking one of them into your mouth. His hot shaft raises the temperature of your hand as you wrap around it. A salacious moan breaches from his throat as you transition from no stimulation to sucking his balls and pumping his dick. Getting your fill from one side you switch to the other, coating it in a thick layer of saliva with a lengthy lap of your tongue. You pull your face away to let a little spit dribble from your tongue before sucking again. Arousal pumps fiercely through Haechan’s veins as you stimulate him. He tries and fails to keep quiet, choked groans slipping through every now and then. He squeezes his lips tight when you suck both sides into your mouth.

What he was witnessing was a masterpiece. Such a beautiful face dirtying up his dick and balls. So dedicated to get him off while looking so fitting for your pet name. “Angel,” he shudders, “I wanna fuck.”

“Hm?” You ignore him. You’re sitting pretty on your high horse with no intention of getting off any time soon. You want him to either whine and beg for it or cum all over your face. It’s a welcome change of pace to see him like this. And just for you? You could cum untouched. You release his balls with a pop before trailing your tongue to his shaft. He drops his head back with a heavy sigh as you trail wet, sloppy kisses up his shaft. “Fuck–” He breathes harshly and you can tell he’s getting there.

You run your spit-slicked lips up and down his member, poking your tongue out to kitty lick here and there, until his member starts twitching. He whines something under his breath and the sound makes you buck against his leg. “What was that?”

“Need you, need you…” He murmurs mindlessly, flicking his hips up involuntarily. You deliver full-on licks to his shaft until his stomach starts tensing and his moans pick up in frequency. “Please– fuck!”

You don’t listen again, you just give his tip the same treatment you gave his balls. Haechan’s torso jumps up from the floor as he moans louder than you’ve ever heard him. You giggle, “Hm~ I found the sweet spot I think.”

“Think this is funny?” He looks flush, hair beginning to stick to his forehead and pupils blown wide. If he was setting out to hypnotize you, it was working because you were entranced by his eyes. He takes the opportunity to push on top of you and flip you over. You nearly yelp but he covers your mouth with his hand. “No more slip-ups, we can’t get caught okay?” You nod within his grasp. “Good, because it would suck if we had to stop.” He purrs as he slips your shorts down as well as he can with one hand. You nod again and he coos a bit of praise.

He slips his hand from your mouth and kisses your cheek softly. You just about melt, and you feel like you actually could after what he says next.

“I told you I needed you and I meant it.” He shoves your shorts the rest of the way down and lowers his hips until his tip is spreading you open. Your lips part like softened butter until he’s fully submerged inside you. He pants next to your ear before peppering more feather-light kisses along your jaw and neck. When he bottoms out you feel a groan rumble in his chest. You keen, pushing back until there’s no space between you. 

Haechan rises further on his knees to make up for it before dropping his hips down. You gasp and his hand is back over your mouth, not stopping his onslaught of pounding. Countless coos of praise fill your ears as he fucks the sense right out of you. Your eyes roll up, legs twitching as he fills you up slam after slam. You mumble your own praise incoherently behind his hand which makes him chuckle beside your ear. “Knew you’d be cute getting fucked.”

He angles his hips to brush against your frontmost wall and rubs at your g-spot again and again. “F-feels so good.” You know he can’t hear you but it was just mindless blabbering anyway. You worry for a moment that all this drilling will leave your legs hurting and prevent you from following instructions, but every thrust wipes your worries away. You feel connected and close to Haechan in a way you didn’t know you needed until now. You pull his hand away and chuckle slightly. “Need you too, Haechan.” You breathe until you’re whimpering again and he has to re-cover your mouth. “I love to hear it, angel.”

You can feel fractures of your orgasm beginning to form, tingling up your thighs and collecting in your groin. You suck in a harsh breath as your legs quiver. “‘m fucking cumming.” Haechan mutters as his hips stutter and his knees slide against the floor. Hearing his sounds build in desperation makes your abdomen clench and in turn, your walls. Haechan bites your shoulder in an attempt to muffle the resounding cry that crawls from his throat. His hips buck wildly into you, jolting you forward until your orgasm fills your channel and joins his spurting semen.

The two of you are only afforded two or three minutes to come down, but it feels like an eternity of bliss so you’re okay with it. Haechan pulls the both of you up and embraces you while he stays inside. Then the sound of multiple people thundering toward the practice room cause you both to jump up and situate yourselves as quickly as possible.

--🖱️▷

The rest of 127 watch as you and Haechan talk across the room. Taeyong is the first to talk. “They had sex didn’t they.” He narrows his eyes at Haechan leaning in and whispering something in your ear, he notes your shocked expression and subsequent slap of is arm. 

“I caught onto that like… last month.” Mark mumbles. 

“Really? I thought she’d be too shy. She doesn’t seem like the type.” Doyoung says before reflecting. Then one, two, three beats pass before Taeyong speaks again.

“You guys think they did it on the floor?”

The rest of the members react in audible disgust which makes the two of you look over. “Where do you think they did it?” Johnny asks, suddenly panicked about everywhere his feet land.

Mark looks around sheepishly before mumbling, “Just steer clear of the vent."

likes and reblogs are very appreciated! 🖱️⤻ nct dream & 127 masterlists

[smartycvnt]

Overkill

Title: Overkill Pairing: Red Hood x Reader Prompt: 12. "Whoa, who said you could bring a gun to the fist fight?" NR WC: 708

Jason was fuming as he sat back hidden and out of sight. Y/n had no idea what kind of men she was dealing with. The young woman was new to Gotham City, and while there was a good deal of crime in St. Louis, it wasn't Gotham City. Y/n had only been in Gotham for a few months, but she was already dipping her toes into the gang wars. Jason loved her, even if they only saw each other at night. He would chase her across every rooftop in the city if he had to in order to make sure that she was safe. She had told him what she was doing tonight, who she was meeting with, and what they were supposed to get done. Jason didn't know much about them in all honesty because it was a low level gang, but he had cleaned up the aftermath of a few of their "meetings" before.

"I hear you've gotten yourself a shadow. How do I know that Red Hood isn't waiting to ambush us with the rest of the costumed freaks?" Y/n laughed at the man's question. Jason being around would always be a possibility, but Y/n had made him promise to stay at least half a block away. Whether or not he actually did that was out of her control.

"You can't. Just like I can't count on you coming unarmed like you promised," Y/n pointed out. The man in the suit turned towards the two guys behind him and nodded. They took a couple steps back, which Y/n knew meant that if she didn't do what their boss wanted, she'd become their new target. "At least I tried to keep my end of the deal up."

"No hard feeling darling, but I find these talks go a lot better whenever you bring a little firepower with you. It's all a pissing contest," he said. Y/n crossed her arms over her chest to hide the press of her panic button that Jason had given her. "My terms for this are that you keep your nose out of my business, and tell your little boyfriend to do the same. I'd hate to have to see your pretty little face in the obituaries."

"I wouldn't count on that," Y/n said as she leaned back against a brick wall. Behind the man in the suit, Jason had both of his men in a chokehold. Y/n watched as the man lifted his fingers for his guys to raise their guns.

"You should have stayed in whatever shithole you crawled out of."

"I was thinking the same thing," Jason said. Y/n smirked as the man jumped up and turned around to face him. The man in the suit pulled a pistol out of his pocket, but Jason easily knocked it away. "Whoa, who said you could bring a gun to the fist fight?"

Y/n made her getaway as Jason started throwing punches. She stayed nearby, close enough to watch what was an incredibly one-sided fight. Jason called for the police to come and arrest the man Y/n had been meeting with before he chased after her. Y/n was in the process of taking off some of her gear whenever Jason showed up. He fell back into one of the lounge chairs. They had been meeting up on this rooftop for weeks now. It had been the place where they had seen each other's faces for the first time. Jason took his helmet and jacket off with a heavy sigh.

"Thank you for saving my ass," Y/n said. Jason brushed it off, as if he didn't think that what he had done was that big of a deal. Y/n thought differently though, if not for Jason, she would have ended up looking like a piece of Swiss cheese. "I owe you one."

"Eh, those guns were way too much for one person. That much firepower could have killed Batman." Jason tried to downplay his heroics of the night, but Y/n was having none of it. She moved into his lap and gave him a kiss, soft and slow. "I mean, maybe what I did was impressive."

[stormyweaver]

Birthday Blues || H/azbin H/otel, V/ox

Did you really think I'd be able to stay away for long? HAH. Anyway this is lowkey a kind of 'it makes me feel better' drabble thingie. So anyway yes, hopefully ya' like it! Also yes Pap/ermint is the name of Vox's assistant and I feel like this is a horrible error to be occurring but lol

Vox sniffled - a pathetically plugged, bunged up sound that crackled with static - before promptly blowing his vents clear. Well, as clear as they could get all things considered. He was so sufficiently blocked up, congested to the point that he could barely speak without sounding like someone had surrounded his audio processing units with cotton. It was almost painful, but for the moment it mainly bordered on uncomfortable and infuriatingly inconvenient. “Haaaappy Birthdaaaay to youuuu~!!!”

His left eye twitched as he heard the sounds of a kazoos and party poppers going off. Gaze flitting back to the screen he’d been watching previously, it narrowed as the scene lay out before him: multiple of his associates gathered in the lunchroom, surrounding a table where behind the crowding bodies, an elder demon sat at the very edge. There was a cake in front of her - nothing extravagant, likely home-made judging from the mis-matched candles and frankly shoddy frosting flowers. Everyone was all smiles, including the sinner's gummy, wrinkled lips. Vox’s own upper lip curled slightly. An office birthday party. How… ghastly.

He’d gotten the request months in advance from Papermint, who seemed to be quaking more than usual when presenting it to Vox. Technically he would have been within his rights to deny the extension on their lunches, but… he’d been busy at the time, and it didn’t raise any real concerns so he’d signed just to get the other back to working on IMPORTANT matters. 

Now, he was sorely regretting not filing it into the trash bin. … Okay, not really. It was a birthday party - who didn’t like birthdays? It was one of the few moments where those in Hell could actually forget about the fact that they were actually damned for all eternity. A chance to celebrate something. Vox had even attended a few gatherings himself, in the past. Back when…

Nope. Not opening that can of fucking worms. Not any time soon.

A round of clapping brought Vox’s waning attention back up towards the screen, and his left eye began to dilate as he spotted a familiar face on the monitor. Velvette!? Seriously? Why would SHE even want to be seen with such lowly… wait, that was her employee, wasn’t it? One of her tailors. A bloody fantastic one, to use her own phrasing. He thought she didn’t like old people, though. Fossils, or something along those lines. But - he supposed there was no bias to be had when it came to doing a good job.

It made sense, and softened the feeling of betrayal just a smidge. Still didn’t stop his temple from throbbing in irritation, though.

Sniffling again, Vox plucked a tissue from the side of his desk and tended to a leaking vent. It wasn’t like he’d even wanted to attend their little bitch-ass party anyway. He had better things to do. Not like he’d been told to attend in the request. Tch. Stupid underlings… stupid fucking granny tailor… stupid… STUPID... … He needed a smoke. The cigarette was dangling from his lips, thumb barely brushing against the tip when Vox’s breath caught. “Hhh… f-huuugck– hHHRRZZSCHHH’HUE!!” The sneeze was harsh, jerking Vox forward as his razor sharp teeth snapped the cigarette in half. Spatting out the remaining piece, he clutched the side of his head as his shoulders shakily rose and fell. “Ahh- hahh..! hHZNGT’SHUE! Hh’IZZSCHh! hhheh’Ī̧̠͂̚Ȋ̡̧͇̙̟̦̗̣͚̫̜͙̲͔̞̩̜̻̙͉̻̻̉̎̔͗̌̓̒ͦͤ̔̀͂͘͘̕͘͠Ž̖́͋̕͠Z̶̢̢̯̟̬͉̞̩̬͈̰̭̀̂͊ͯ̓ͣ̐͑͊ͭ̊͂͑͛̏͘S̠̺Hhiew!!”

Fuck’s sake. Fuck’s SAKE. 

Growling in frustration, Vox tossed the rest of the packet into his drawer, then thrust his upper half onto the desk in a huff.  Fuck birthday parties. And fuck being sick.

[resinixupi]

My process of creating a BJD for the first time

I sculpted my own BJD-inspired little doll for the first time! Including sewing his outfit, I worked on the project over the course of December til March.

He's based on my artistic fan-rendition of dr. Nitrus Brio from the Crash Bandicoot video game series, and I'm planning to make a few of his colleagues as well! 😊 Here's some reference pics for context, for those who don't know the character.

Read on if you want to see the process of his creation!

(Heads-up; Contains censored doll nudity and loose body parts and all that~)

He's only 19cm tall (which is uncommon for adult-type BJDs (they'd usually be 40-70 cm, that's 1/4 or 1/3 scale)) and his technical design is a little crude/simplified compared to the beautiful mechanics of the BJDs I used to own, but I'm really happy with how he came out. It was quite the magical experience, because I haven't sculpted much before, nor have I sewn on this level of detail.

I figured the smaller scale would make him more easy to handle and less intimidating for a first project, but it made it a little difficult to work with at times as well!

My very first attempt was fun but had a lot of issues, I decided to start over before painting. The (extremely cheap) clay had shrunk massively, he was nowhere near hollow enough, he was a disproportional mess xD

And since he needs to be to scale with his friends later on, I decided it would be a valuable prototype. UvU

So all that happened during my Christmas break! From then on, I continued working on him little bits at a time. Quite surprisingly I managed to stay engaged and dedicated XD

This time I got actual doll-grade paperclay, which made so much difference. Amazing stuff. It was again very satisfying to see his shape forming. And this time he made it to the paint stage!

After drying out properly, I coated him first to set the clay, then used acrylic paint to give him his base skintone all over. The first layer, applied with a brush, was a blotchy mess. :x

Then I thought of sponge-dabbing it on instead, which worked wonderfully! I only realized while doing it, that it reminded me of how I applied my own bodypaint with a sponge for a blue-skinned cosplay 😊 Must've subconsciously gotten the inspiration from there lol

After his base coat, I could no longer resist and strung him😂💖

I realized it might get messy later on if I'd refuse to unstring and restring him for further painting/blushing and coating. But I figured it'd be good enough and I was having too much fun having him in his strung form XDD <33

It turned out okay, even after spray coating him strung. ^^

Painted his face, cleaned the paint off his bolts, glued eyelashes on 💕

And finally, gave him bodyblush for a little more life to him, love it!

Then I spent many nights sewing his lab coat, undies, pants, gloves and boots! 😊😊😊

I now consider him finished, and ready for cool shoots! All of this really made me relive my love for BJDs and all the crafting around it. Looking forward to make him some friends, but for now it's kinda nice to have time for other projects again as well 😂

[milfswriter]

Innocent

Alma Peregrine x Reader

Request by @queerpersonified: Peculiars assuming reader is dangerous and shouldn’t be around kids, when in reality she’s a very loving, nurturing supportive wife and parent (I have a feeling that would get on Alma’s nerves REAL FAST)

Notes and warnings: reader's peculiarity is being able to show memories (like transform the room into that specific memory? get it? and no it can't be tampered with lol)

You walked into Ditch house after finishing a shift with Sharon to monitor who enters and exits the loop through the panloopticon, sighing as you saw the children from different loops disperse at the sight of you.

It wasn't anything new, you'd been living here for the past few weeks and you should've gotten used to the weird looks and Ymbrines hiding their children behind them at the sight of you already.

But how could you? They were judging you based on a lie that the peculiar press has been spreading for the past 30 years. you bit your lip nervously, looking around the house for Alma or anyone you knew but you couldn't find them. You brushed it off and sat on a couch, reading a book before hearing someone clearing their throat.

You looked up to see a boy you recognized to be from Miss Cuckoo's loop. "Who allowed you to sit here?"

You raised an eyebrow, "Do I need permission to sit? I thought we shared this house"

He scoffed, walking away before Enoch stopped him with a hand to his chest. "Don't ever talk to Y/n like that"

_________________

You tried to ignore the staring as you carried Claire around the house, their wary looks making you feel like they were about to snatch her from you any second.

Later that day, you were invited by Alma to join her in the council meeting to discuss dealing with the desolations Caul has been causing. As you reached the meeting room, you knocked on the door hesitantly before coming in, a flood of relief washing over you as the first thing you saw was Alma's soft smile.

"Now that we're all here, I'd like to-"

"What is she doing here?" You turned to see Miss Cuckoo grimace at you, her cane hitting the table.

You stayed in your place near the door, waiting for Alma to kick you back out.

"I beg your pardon" Alma's questioning tone made you feel the slightest of relief before Miss Cuckoo made her way to you, pointing at you with her cane.

"For all I know," she spat, her french accent thickening "she's working with Caul! She shouldn’t be in here!”

"Isabel!" Alma's tone was hard, a glare burning holes at her friend. She couldn't understand her fellow ymbrines, why would they treat you like you were a time bomb, about to explode any second.

"How. Dare You!" you yelled, the room falling into silence once again. Even Miss Avocet was too shocked to say anything.

You were always respectful, holding doors for Ymbrines and bowing your head to them whenever you saw one of them even when the look of disgust was apparent on their faces, so seeing you yell at one was nothing less of shocking.

"I..have been trying for DECADES to rectify my mistake! it was an accident! I DID NOT CONTROL THAT HOLLOW! I did not order the deaths of those children!" you were fuming, you had enough.

"Y/n. That is enough" Miss Avocet said, moving her wheelchair as if she was about to ask one of the ymbrines to escort you out.

"No, it is not. I am sick of this treatment which I absolutely do not deserve! I am not a monster, nor a killer" you caught your breath before turning to Miss Cuckoo.

"And you!" you pointed to her, her face contorted in surprise "how dare you accuse me of working with the one person who ruined my wife's life? hm? you dare say that so openly, too"

"ENOUGH!" Alma's voice echoed through the room, you were waiting for her to kick you out of the room, but she herself left the room after pulling your hand.

You were following her silently. "This! is Y/n Y/l/n! an innocent woman who had done nothing wrong in her entire life! whatever lie you've been told has to stop. NOW!" the children watched with horror, whispering to one another.

"Show us" she told you, looking back at you as you stood behind her shamefully.

"Alma, you don't have t-"

"Show. Us" you gulped, closing your eyes as you began to remember that wretched day, sighing as you felt the room change into that dark alley.

You watched your past self's hands tremble at the sight of the children behind that hollow, you didn't know what to do.

"get away! run!!" you yelled but they couldn't hear you from the hollow's growls. You kept on screaming for them to run since they couldn't see the damn thing, but they kept in their place, looking around for any sign of danger but found none other than the sounds of the hollows.

You didn't have any weapons, you couldn't have possibly fought the beast by hand but you still tried to run.

You fell on you knees as you saw the hollow scoop the three children up with its tongues, closing your eyes as their screams echoed through the alley.

The memory faded as you hid behind Alma, whose hands were shaking as she closed her eyes. She's never asked you to talk about any of that, let alone show it.

The room was silent and as you looked up Alma's shoulder, they were all staring at you. Ymbrines children and even Addison, who's always told you he believed your story.

You looked at Alma's still-frozen frame, you'd scared her, you shouldn't have shown this memory. Your thoughts were interrupted by your wife clearing her throat, turning to look at you with teary eyes.

Your lips trembled at her stare, gulping as the older woman pulled you into her embrace, which elicited a soft sob from you as you clung to her for dear life.

"oh, y/n/n" she whispered, "I'm sorry you had to witness that" You shook your head, letting go of the woman in front of you and looking at the others.

"I was a hollow hunter" you admitted, "just like Abe Portman, but one day, things went wrong and..those children died. It wasn't my fault and I would never work with Caul Bentham even if it cost my life" you felt a tug at your pants to see Olive with tears in her eyes as she hugged you.

"I know you would never do that to us" she hiccuped, making you sigh as you leaned down and picked her up. You shouldn't have shown the damn memory, now you scared your children for others' stupid opinions.

Alma cleared her throat after seconds of silence, her hand resting on your lower back.

“I believe you all owe miss y/l/n an apology”

Taglist:-

@ara-a-bird @mmemalwa @multifandomfix @thenazwife @mistysswampmud @yelenablshop @acornacre @yourfavdummy @jestercat28

[hitomisuzuya]

Hi Suzu im back with a daily request!

Reader has been busy for weeks on end and doesnt have time to hang out with wanderer. What if at some point that man gets pissed and impatient so one time when the reader was working she suddenly hears soft moans behind her and when she looks back its just wanderer jerking of 😳 what would happen next?? 👀👀

Wanderer x fem!reader Smut. Humor. Reader catches him jacking off, all pissed because he wants attention that he isn't getting.

a/n: For you, my beloved Kichi❤️ Here's the pitch with a blown kiss with it. I hope enjoy.

Quite frankly, Wanderer felt a little ashamed of himself. He couldn't believe he jacking off with you right in the bedroom with him.

Nahida had kept you busy all week. He'd barely gotten to spend more than a few hours with you lately. All week it was blah blah blah with your excuses and it pissed him off.

"I have to run errands for Nahida."

"Okay, see you."

"I'm sorry, hunny, but Nahida wants me to give a lecture on dream interpretation."

Cue an eye roll. "Fine, whatever. I'll be around."

"I'd love have sex with you right now, but Nahida wants me to--"

"What the fuck, seriously?!"

You were dating him, damn it. Curse Nahida for sucking up all your attention and time that you could've been dedicating to him. He missed you!

"I'm not making excuses. I want to repay Nahida for everything she's done for us. I genuinely want to spend time with you..I miss you." you looked so sad. That one stung a little. He was always so weak for you.

A few days later, he just couldn't help himself. He'd demanded that Nahida give you the day off because he missed you. Maybe that's what she wanted to hear from him all along. Nahida works in mysterious ways.

And you! How dare you sit in front of him looking like that, causally reading an essay from the Akademiya library, tapping your lower lip thoughtfully, twirling a few strands of hair between your fingers.

A soft moan made you snap your head around. "...What are you doing?"

"What do you think?!" he snapped between another moan. "I haven't so much as...held you all week." He added in a soft whisper, "I miss you."

*You were touched, truly. You'd wanted to hear that all week. But he'd said all of this while he was jacking himself off. He looked so offended when you started laughing. He was glad to hear you laugh.

Brushing away a few tears, you walked over to him, feeling a little bad. He watched you with owl eyes as you took his hand off of his cock, making him blush a little while you licked his fingers.

Wanderer's sigh was shaky and soft when you started sucking him off. You even did that thing with your tongue that he loved more than once. He wasn't sure how you did it, but it felt so good.

He put a hand on top of your head, pushing your mouth all the way down on his cock, making you deepthroat him like your life depended on it while you sucked.

You coughed a little when you tasted cum on your tongue. He cursed because he didn't like that it didn't take him long to climax. He hated that he sounded so needy and whiny the whole time.

He grabbed you as quick as he could after you wiped your mouth, pulling you down on the bed and crawling on top of you.

"I missed you too," you said, hissing softly when he sank his teeth into your neck.

"I'm going to spend all night ruining you. Brace yourself." He growled, muffled against your neck.

*it took me ten minutes to type those sentences because I couldn't stop laughing long enough to type them lol

[krisdreaming]

Only You

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x gn!reader

WC: 849

A/N:  I'm exposing myself, but I actually don't use twitter 🙈 so I don't really understand how it works lmao.

You stand from the couch with a soft groan, stretching your arms above your head. Atsumu still isn't home from practice, but your movie is over, so you decide there isn't much left to do besides going to bed. By the time your teeth are brushed, Atsumu texts you that he's on the way home, so you settle in under the covers to wait for him.

It isn't often that he's so late, but every now and then practice runs over. You've gotten used to it. It's just one of those things that comes along with dating a volleyball player. You bite back a smile. If someone had told you ten years ago that you'd be dating a professional athlete, you probably would have laughed in their face. Still, you wouldn't have things any other way, most of the time. Somehow, Atsumu makes it all worth while.

Reaching for your phone, you pull up your twitter feed to pass the time until he's home. After a few minutes of mindless scrolling, you come to a post on the Black Jackals' official account. It just so happens to feature your boyfriend. It's just one of those quick player highlight posts, using the staged photos they all have to take in their uniforms, so it isn't really anything special, but you still can't help but smile. Even looking at the fake smile pasted on his face, you feel a surge of warmth. It's a mixture of adoration and pride. That's your boyfriend.

Curious, you tap on the post and begin to scroll through the replies. Mixed in with the normal replies from fans of the team (and one from his mom), there's another type of comment you begin to notice. It starts out tame enough.

Miya is so handsome.

You chuckle wryly to yourself. There's no denying that, you suppose.

Definitely the hottest guy on the team. For sure.

You're starting to feel the smile fade from your lips. Part of you knows that you should just close the app right now, but a bigger part of you wants to keep scrolling.

I'd sell my SOUL for a night with Miya Atsumu.

Slowly, the pride you'd felt is turning to a jealous prickle. There are dozens of comments just like those, and you're beginning to feel a sinking in your gut. It's pretty sobering to think that Atsumu could have any of these girls any time he wanted.

"I'm home!" You'd been so absorbed that you hadn't even heard the front door open, and now your boyfriend is standing in the doorway to the bedroom. Quickly, you turn off your phone screen and shove it down next to you on the bed.

"Hey, Baby. Sorry practice was so late." He leans in for a quick peck, and you return it mechanically. "Won't happen again fer a while, I promise," He assures, rifling through the dresser for a pair of clean pajamas. He goes into the bathroom to change, and you bite down on your lip. For some stupid reason, you feel tears starting to burn at the backs of your eyes.

Too soon, he's back in the bedroom. You haven't had time to compose yourself. "How was yer night?" He asks lightly, and finally glances at you. It's only then that he truly looks into your face, and the twisting in your gut must be evident there, because his demeanor instantly changes.

"Hey," He quickly gets into bed beside you, "What's wrong?"

"It's stupid," You say thickly, trying to brush it off. Logically, you know you just need to forget it.

"Maybe, but it's clearly upsettin' ya." He rests his chin on your shoulder. "You can talk to me, ya know."

"It's not a big deal," You say softly, but you reach for your phone, turning on the screen and reluctantly handing it to him. You watch as he scrolls through the comments, brow furrowing into a frown. "See?" You try to lighten your voice. "Told you it was silly."

"Ya know I love you, right?" He says, so firmly it takes you by surprise. "Only you." You nod slightly. "These girls-" He gestures at your phone screen, "They're annoying. Just like those girls in high school I told ya about. Squealin' pigs." Despite yourself, you release a chuckle.

"'Tsumu, that's not very nice," You chide automatically, but there's a small smile growing on your face.

"Well, it's true. All the guys get that crap, ya know?" He slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his side. "But none of those girls are in bed with me tonight. You are." He punctuates it with a kiss pressed to your temple. "And I wouldn't change that fer anything."

"Neither would I," You say softly, snuggling a little closer into his side.

"Yer the only one for me, ya know that?" You tilt your face up to look at him then, and the tenderness in his expression dissolves the pit in your gut completely. He leans in to press a kiss to your lips. "I love you," He murmurs. "So much."

[comicaurora]

Heyo, it's the fool who wants to make a comic with zero experience in drawing or finishing stories again. A lot of people, including you, I think, mentioned that "Your first work will be bad". Any tips how…not to do that? I don't expect it to be a magnum opus or smth, but I at least want to make something people would genuinely unironically enjoy, and "first story is always not good" notion everywhere is very discouraging

It's not like I never tried anything creative ever, but this is my first attempt of putting it down on paper with intention of completing it, instead of having vague ideas of "I know what would be so cool when I make it a thing" in my head for months without acting upon any of these ideas

It's definitely a disheartening adage, even if it's supposed to take the pressure off young creators.

Unfortunately, no matter how good your starting point gets - and you can get it very good, don't get me wrong - you are still going to find it unbearably bad when you look back on it with experienced eyes. You might eventually circle back around to finding it impressive, considering it was your absolute first starting point and you had no experience, but you still won't be able to see its merit the way your audience will.

The thing is, your first project is going to teach you a lot of things you couldn't have known you needed to learn beforehand. This means everything you make after learning those things is going to be smoother in process and better in result. There's also just the fact that the more you do this sort of thing the more practiced you'll get at the mechanical side of it, making it faster and easier for you and leaving you with more energy to punch things up. Compare the Big Fight Scene from chapter 3 with the one from chapter 17 in terms of visual complexity:

Particle effects, ambient glow, soft lighting, atmospheric depth, metallic effects, light and shadow. The seeds of these ideas are present in the earlier shot, but executed in a much clumsier way. Fourteen chapters of gradually increasing complexity and just raw practice got me to the point where drawing that second panel was fun rather than exhausting. If I'd tried that in the first chapter I would've probably been so worn out just trying to finish the lineart that the quality of the rest of the image would've suffered from sheer exhaustion.

And even before that, those first chapters only flowed as well as they did because I'd been drawing hundreds and hundreds of video frames for years at this point, which had gotten my lineart muscle memory polished enough that I wasn't agonizing over every single stroke.

I was absolutely determined to start this comic off at the best level of quality I could, and that determination kept me kicking the can down the road for a decade. I think this was a good thing; if I'd started it any earlier I think I would've been a slow enough learner that the quality increase over those first few chapters wouldn't have been as steep as it was. And that first chapter was as good as I could've made it at the time; I didn't take any shortcuts or laze around, and I used every skill I'd learned over the previous decade of physical and digital art. Of course, if I knew then what I knew now there's loads of stuff I'd have changed about the way I handled the intro. In fact, I'm going to break my One Rule about "never going back or redoing things" and I'm going to walk you all through chapter 1 and what I would change/fix if I was drawing it now.

Remove the outline on the background mountains, add color variance to the further mountains so they appear farther in the background, un-muddy the color of the sky and make those clouds a little more impressive; this could've looked like a full glorious noonday sun. The forest was drawn with an experimental brush I'd created for foliage that I ended up deciding didn't produce the effect I wanted; I'd probably go through and use the technique I developed for Gleicann's forest to cel shade blocks of foliage.

Add at least the bare hint of buildings behind the sword pedestal - just gradient outlines would be fine, similar to the extended backgrounds in Zuurith. Also slap some blue cinder-y particle effects coming up off the sword. Clean up the shading layer so there aren't as many holes. Add metallic shine to the blade and marbling/stone texture to the pedestal.

Un-muddy the colors on this background; they match The Collector's color palette but that matters less than looking nice. The background needs something - speed lines, the implication of foliage - etc. The poses could also be more dynamic and drawn with more confidence. To show the power behind the blows, re-choreographs the fight to show more of the damage it does to the environment - the sword carving through rocks, ploughing furrows into the ground, starting to spark with starfire, etc.

Same problem with the foliage; the special brush adds too much detail, drawing the eye away from the important parts of the scene, and the colors are muddy to cover that up. Brighter greens and cel-shaded layers would produce the effect I actually wanted and be faster than hand-drawing every treetrunk and then shading them so they're indistinguishable anyway. Also, more intense shading on the foreground figure - a neutral tan shadow layer is functional, but it could look a lot more dramatic, and he's shaded much more lightly than the extremely muddied background is.

Of course, "if I knew then what I know now" is a meaningless turn of phrase. I needed to draw these pages this way in order to learn what I know now. If I had jumped straight into the shortcuts I've painstakingly developed without having had that intervening practice, the end result would've been just as bad - if not worse, because it would've been executed shakily, without the confidence that accompanies muscle memory. The techniques I used in this first chapter had served me well up til that point. The techniques I use now were built on these foundations. Lamenting that I could've done it better if I'd started now is like saying the pyramids would be so much taller if they'd laid the foundations at the top part instead.

There's a degree to which this work is sisyphusian. You do your best, you push yourself, and then your "best" gets better. At some point you have to accept that what was your best is still okay, even if you can't see it that way.

When I was working on this comic in the pre-actually-drawing-it years, I came to a realization that helped me get unstuck: "good enough" is a mask that "perfect" wears. Striving for perfection is a pointless task, and this is pretty well known, but it seems a lot more reasonable to just try to get "good enough" at art to guarantee that your work will be good enough. But if you unpack that concept, you likely find that your definition of "good enough" is basically "without flaws." Which is "perfect." Which is, as mentioned, unattainable. Those pages are as good as I could've possibly made them at the time, and they aren't perfect, and I never thought they were perfect, because I knew if I waited for them to be perfect in my eyes I'd never make them. I just had to grit my teeth, make them public and hope that people got something out of them that I couldn't.

There is a baseline level of artistic skill and preparation that I do recommend cultivating - figure and life drawing, anatomy studies, landscapes, reading Scott McCloud's "Understanding Comics" cover to cover - but there is no hardline starting point at which you are guaranteed to be good enough to make the story and art good. This is because "good" is subjective, and as long as you are improving as an artist, your own perspective on your old work will never be that it is "good." You have to trust that the audience that likes your story likes it for their own valid reasons.

The thing is, I know this is a bummer. This whole thing is a bummer perspective. Artists want to make good art and the nature of artistic creation is being unable to see your own art as good for long. If you believe that your art must be a certain baseline level of Good to be worthy of existing, this truth seems to be a condemnation to an eternal and pointless purgatorial struggle.

The most valuable skill an artist can develop at this stage is strangling that insecurity with their bare hands.

Trust your audience! Trust that they enjoy what they enjoy, and trust that they see something in your art, even if all you can see are the critiques you'd use to polish it! "Perfect" and "good enough" will tell you that your creation will always be hideously unlovable and must be hidden from scrutiny until it's "ready", but like all insecurities, underpinning this is the axiom that anyone who likes you or your work is lying. Strangle this falsehood, trust freely and openly that your audience is being honest with you, and while you work to improve on the creation side of things, trust that in the eyes of the people who like your work, it is Good Enough.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

You know, I was wondering this for months now. Considering Yosano’s painful backstory, how do you think she felt about dazai’s suicide mania. Seriously, it’s all he talks about.

This is really interesting anon. I'm not sure if they interact much to be honest. I'm trying hard to think of a moment they actually talk... well, we do know she's at the core of the plan to revive him if he ever does die, and she absolutely would've been a part of that discussion so I think it's a given that she's looking out for him at least a little, in her own way. I would say, given her reaction to Kajii's obsession with death and her typical blunt demeanor, she probably thinks Dazai's fixation on suicide is uh... pretty stupid. But at the same time, the life he's threatening there is his own, so I like to think there was some brief concern at the beginning.

See, I think for the very reasons I'd love to see them interact (history with Mori, unfortunate commonalities with Mori they probably don't like, similar defense mechanisms of projecting an image to avoid uncomfortable questions or people getting too close - one, mischievous and lazy, and the other, highly respected and slightly sadistic)... I think this is exactly why they probably don't.

See, I don't think Dazai knows Yosano's history. He doesn't have a way of knowing it, and it's kind of the Agency's best kept secret - Fukuzawa and Ranpo are the only ones who appear to know. However, Dazai's countenance is such that he immediately had Fukuzawa telling Kunikida to just shoot him if he proves to be a threat lmao, and given a lot else in the series, I just assume that to those who aren't Atsushi or random people who get the filter of dialed-up charm Dazai, that the man just gives off supremely bad vibes. I feel like, if anything, Yosano was probably on alert around him for a bit. Dazai operates a lot like Mori, after all, and I doubt that would've gotten past her.

Also their defense mechanisms are the same. Like. They actually have some really fascinating commonalities. I love the part where Yosano grabs Atsushi's leg to examine it in her first focal chapter. I know that sounds weird but, just look.

Up until this point, all we know about Yosano is that she takes no crap from stupid people (especially stupid guys), is a doctor whose methods are... questionable, and apparently everyone in the Agency respects her but is also terrified of her. But this scene shows us something else: she's incredibly analytical. Her medical knowledge allows her to tell how Atsushi's ability is working in an instant, but when asked about it, she goes back to "shame I couldn't treat you", which is more in line with her "terrifying doctor" image she's built up. She deflects anything other than this image, is what I'm trying to say. It reminds me a lot of when Dazai gets serious then flips it so it seems like the moment was just him being silly and goofy.

Anyways, their defense mechanisms are similar in that they both build up carefully crafted images to avoid questions and vulnerability - Yosano by making herself more threatening and Dazai by making himself less threatening - so yeah, I don't think any interactions would have them being anything but being super roundabout and cordially pleasant with each other (much as I think there is some mutual respect there between them... I love the bit where Yosano is about to go full feral on the guy who hurt the cafe owner and Dazai's full-on smirking about it like "ohoho you screwed up big time lol").

As for the whole suicide thing, I know it can be uncomfortable the way the Agency brushes off his attempts, but I honestly think that Dazai's attempts are not actually serious (I firmly believe he is not actively trying to die anymore, even if he is still passively suicidal and genuinely depressed - he does it because it's a part of his nonthreatening yet disconcerting image, and also because it's likely a habit at this point), and that they probably have tried to speak with him about it at one point but it didn't go anywhere (because Dazai would never have an honest conversation about something like that...) so they settled for making a plan in case something did end up happening to him. From the wording in 55 Minutes, I thought it seemed pretty strongly implied that this plan was created less out of the potential for Dazai getting hurt on a mission than in the case of if he should ever hurt himself.

See, what I'd be interested to know is if Dazai made the terrible error in judgement of attempting to flirt with Yosano on introduction. ...I bet that went well.