#enter…

[tinyarsonist]

Volume: Up

"I bet I can make you scream in Korean."

Summary: In which heart throb K-Pop Idol, Bangchan, just shows you how 'Christopher' he can really be.

MDNI 18+ Only

TW: idol!Chan, IdolTrainee!Y/N(fem!), drinking, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up), smut in general, dirty talk, swearing, masturbation, dumification, nipple play (fem!), cum on stomach, PleasureDom!Chan, switch!reader (fem!), pull out, cum on stomach, let me know if I missed anything!

Italics are in Korean. Bold is in Spanish. Rest in English.

Volume Series: Part One | Part Two | ?

You were still in awe.

You started your career as an idol fairly late in the game, making you older than most. But, when you entered the world of K-pop, you knew this was what you were meant to do. You were already creating music since you were young, and how hard could it be?

Very.

There were days as a trainee when you felt like giving up. You left your friends and family back home to pursue your dream, and after years, you still felt like you were right back at the same spot you started. Never moving. Stagnant.

That's when you discovered Stray Kids. Watching their debut to where they are now. It motivated you.

Then, one day, your company announces that they want you to lead a team. They presented you with suitable candidates for your girl group, but something in you felt like something wasn't right. "Sorry," you apologize to your board. "But, if I may be so bold as to recruit my own members?"

You wanted a family. Craved friendship beyond just another gig. And, well, let's say it worked out very well for you.

This brings you to the present day--standing in DIV studio, surrounded by its members, to do an interview. Your group was just starting out and already doing well. You've posted a couple of dance practices and some ballad covers you performed as a group, tracking some major views across all social media. DIV wanted to be the first to be a part of the soon-to-be international hype.

"You ready?" Eric smiled at you as the crew set up your microphone. You nodded happily. The rest of your group couldn't make it due to schedule. It felt weird not having the rest of your girls around you, but knew this wasn't an opportunity you just passed up.

Time passes, and so far, the interview is going great. It was amazing being around like-minded people. And, it was also nice being able to curse and not have to worry about your 'imagine' among them. They were free to be who they wanted. They wanted to break the mold; conformity was not in their dictionary. It took a while to let your company agree to the interview in the first place, but this was the direction you wanted to take the group. To be yourself and just produce music.

"Okay, so next up is the heart rate challenge." Eric smiled. You were divided into teams; you and Eric vs. Peniel and BM. The winner would be dubbed by the lowest combined heart rate.

"You're going down!" BM teased as Peniel hyped him up in the back. You grin brightly.

"Considering you boys are literally jumping around before the monitor is even placed, I think it's safe to say we'll win."

"Oh okay, that's how it's gonna be??" Peniel laughed. "Then let's make a bet; the loser buys everyone barbeque!"

Eric and you agreed in a heartbeat. You were already craving galbi and rice. Peniel essentially just bought the dinner you were going to buy tonight anyway.

As the heart monitors are placed, you try your best to stay calm. You were an anxious person in general, but when push comes to shove, you always had a way of relaxing yourself.

Peniel and BM went first. Eric and you teased them relentlessly during their time duration of 5 minutes. Peniel started blushing during his time up when you started throwing winks and kisses his way. Their combined score was 250.

"That's not far!" Peniel groaned as the video crew asked for a short break to recalibrate their equipment. "She's too cute, like how does someone not get flustered?"

"It's all fun and games in love and war," you winked at him. Everyone laughed except Peniel, who just took out his phone and pouted. His fingers typed furiously on his keyboard. Once it was time to get the cameras rolling again, Peniel had a knowing smirk on his face. You couldn't help but wonder what he was concocting. You just knew he was plotting his revenge against you.

Eric went first. Despite the constant harassment Peniel and BM gave him, you couldn't help but laugh at their jabs. "You're supposed to be on my team!" Eric roared at you at his last 10 seconds on the clock. Despite everything, his heart rate totaled to 120. All you had to do was ignore the comments for a minute. You got this. You sat down in the middle of the floor and crossed your legs, getting in an almost meditative position. The rest followed. Then the buzzer started.

"So," Peniel started as soon as the timer started going. "You learned Korean by yourself, right?"

You shot him a distrusting glance. "Yes..."

Peniel and BM nodded their heads slowly. "Interesting"/"Yes, yes, very interesting." Eric shot you a glance. He could feel it, too. Based on how the two acted Eric's turn was completely different, they were calm. Too calm. They were up to something.

"One might say," Peniel feigned thoughtfulness by stroking his chin. "You had an interest in learning Korean before you even had thought of becoming a trainee."

Crap. He saw the clip.

Before your group days, you would do little lives here and there. Just want to document your early days and interact with anyone who wants to chat. During that time, you mentioned the real reason you learned Korean was to easily watch interviews without the need for subtitles. Then you casually mentioned how much of a fan you were for a certain boy group. Your fans, which was very little back then, took those clips and circulated them online. Which was fine. It gained some traction that you were a STAY and helped grow your platform. It was a bit embarrassing, essentially admitting that you only learned the language to watch their episodes and lives to get full context. But, hey, it also helped you get to where you are today.

Getting bullied by two idols so they don't have to pay for your dinner.

"Yes, Peniel. I learned Korean so I can watch Stray Kids' interviews live." You roll your eyes but keep track of where your monitor is. 95bpm. Not bad. So long as you stayed below 130, that galbi was yours.

Peniel and BM continued to stroke their chins. "Interesting"/"Yes, yes, very... Stray Kids fan. Very cool"

Peniel held up a finger before leaving the room. You looked around at the crew, confused. Eric laughed and peered after him; "Where is he going?"

His question was answered as Peniel stepped back into the room with a shorter figure behind him. You moved around to peer behind Peniel, and when you locked eyes with the guest, your heart rate shot up. 110bpm.

Eric and BM rose to give a small bow when Chan said his hellos. You stayed still in your place. Embarrassment immediately washed over you. But you took a deep breath in and out, 3 minutes until you can freak out. 3 minutes, and you can process every single emotion you are feeling.

Chan gave you a little wave, his dimples showing as he smiled. Ugh, he might as well shoot you in the heart right now.

"You're not gonna stand up?" Peniel teased. You immediately shook your head. As much as you wanted to say hi, dinner was calling your name. Seeing Chan in the flesh was amazing. But Galbi beat everything at this moment. BM smiled brightly and motioned for Chan to take a seat next to you. How sweet.

2 minutes. 115bpm.

You bowed your head slightly to say hello, still a bit too stunned to speak. Chan gave a small head bow back. "Sorry about this," he chuckled. You told him it was okay, but still unable to make eye contact. Despite that, you knew he looked incredible. He always did.

Focus! You tried to snap yourself out of it and took deep breaths. In and out. In and out.

"So... you learned Korean to watch us live? That's sweet," Chan felt awkward all of a sudden. When Peniel texted him, this wasn't what he expected to be doing during the interview. "How many languages do you know?"

You close your eyes and focus back on the game. Here you were making casual conversation, while 3 other idols were jabbing at you, trying to get your heart rate back up. "Four; English, Korean, Japanese, and Spanish."

"Holy crap, how is it going down?!" Eric looked at the monitor and backed up at you. You kept your eyes closed, trying to maintain a steady rhythm. Everyone but Chan was losing their shit.

You could hear BM jump to his feet. The impending doom of a very large bill drove his heart rate up. "Chan, do something!" He exclaimed in Korean. Chan giggled next to you; "What? What do I do?"

"Hit on her!" Peniel got up as well. All attention is now on Chan. Eric stood up and pointed at the two competitors; "Hey! Hey! You leave her alone!"

You couldn't help but chuckle; "I was subscribed to his bubble. I was in the trenches with the rest of STAY. There's nothing he can say that I haven't heard."

Chan clicked his teeth with his tongue. His eyes narrowed. A challenge. He looked at you, with your eyes still closed, before casting his gaze over at Eric. "Anyway, we can mute our mics for a sec?"

Your eyes shot open.

1 minute. 120bpm.

BM ran over to mute your mic. As soon as he backed up, Chan leaned in close to your ear. His breath tickled your cheek, and you had to close your eyes again. 125 bpm. 30 seconds.

"I bet I can make you scream in Korean."

Chan wasn't expecting you to turn your head so quickly towards him. The way your face flushed. Your eyes wide. Everything about you was making his heart race. You locked eyes with him and felt like you couldn't breathe. This was it. That free galbi was gone.

The buzzer went off.

Everyone turned to the monitor.

129bpm.

You shot up from your seat and hugged Eric. Peniel and BM groaned at their loss. Chan laughed as he watched the two of you jumping around, singing about free barbeque.

He took a moment to sneak a look at you, his gaze traveling up and down. The way your hair bounced with you and how your outfit was snuggling your curves just right. He stood up as Eric said their sign-off. Once the cameras were shut off, the teasing started between the four. Peniel placed his arm around the younger idol and pulled him in a side hug. "It's okay," he reassured Chan. "It's not entirely your fault. A good majority of it. But, not fully."

Chan laughed and rolled his eyes. Everyone came up to thank him for coming over. That's when he locked eyes with you again, giving him a bright smile.

You gave the bow you weren't able to give before, formally introducing yourself. You all talked for a bit until you felt your hunger start to spike up; "Okay, so when are we getting dinner?"

The group settled for a time later tonight so everyone could get ready. BM invites Chan to tag along.

"No no," Chan shook his head, not wanting to impose. Peniel tickled his stomach as the rest of the group tried to get him to agree. You couldn't help but chime in. Part of you being selfish and wanting to spend more time with him and also wanting to get a jab in at Peniel and BM; "Come on, it'll be fun. And free!"

Chan looked at you. It was subtle, but his cheeks turned a bit red. "Y-yea, okay."

Chan made his way back to his dorm. The rest of the members who share the space are away on their own schedules. It was rare for Chan to spend the night alone.

He groaned as he plopped on the couch. He was still a bit jet lagged from flying from NYC back home. Laying his head on the back of the couch, he tried to take a nap before having to get ready to head out for dinner with you and the rest of the group.

You.

His mind was restless, and for some reason, they kept fluttering back to you. No matter how much he tried to push them out, he couldn't stop thinking about your big doe eyes. The way your breath hitched as he leaned in. The perfume you were wearing.

Was it Channel? Gucci? Whatever it was, it was flowery like a spring day. He could still smell it on his clothes oh so slightly.

Biting his lower lip, he got up from his seat and headed to the shower. The warm water was welcoming as he tried to clear his head. Unfortunately, it seemed there was only one thing to rid him of these thoughts.

The amount of guilt he felt once he stroked his cock to the thought of you was soon discarded as his mind wandered even more.

What were you like? Did you relinquish control or demand it? Were your lips as soft as he can imagine? Your mouth--oh God. How would it feel to have it wrapped around him? Were you a moaner? A screamer? Could he scramble your brain so much that you scream for him in Korean? Would you come in multiple languages?

He sped up his pace even faster. Water cascaded down his back as he faced the tile bathroom wall. One hand on the structure to ground him as he lost himself at the thought of you. He leaned his head back as he felt himself building and building. The warm water was a comforting feeling on his scalp.

The way he would take you as soon as you entered the dorm. No words, just a clash of flesh as he stripped you of your clothes and bent you over the couch. He wouldn't waste any time and would just thrust into your--oh God. How would you feel around his dick? How tight--

He muffled a moan as he came on his hand. The shower washed away any evidence of his inappropriate thoughts of you. He panted heavily and stood under the water for a couple of moments, pleasure rippling through him soon to be replaced with an abundant amount of guilt for getting off to someone he barely knew.

Maybe that was the thrill of it. Maybe the thought of having someone who didn't know his ups and downs is what did it for him.

Chan didn't have time to dwell on the thought as the time to meet up was fast approaching. And he hated to admit, but the thought of seeing you made his now softening cock twitch.

By the time Chan arrived at the restaurant, platters and drinks were spread across the shared table. BM and Peniel bought out a room so they could enjoy their meal without prying eyes. Chan could hear them hollering in the room before he even opened the door. His ears rang as they all loudly greeted him.

"Look who finally made it!" Peniel laughed as Chan took a seat across from them. Eric and BM were putting meat on the grill as they said their greetings. Chan couldn't help but scan the room, taking note that you weren't there. He tried to play it cool as he asked if you were running late.

"She texted us saying there was something she needed to finish up at home," BM answered him. Eric couldn't help but wiggle his eyebrows at Chan.

"Why? Scared she might not come?"

"No, no." Chan chuckled awkwardly while looking off to the side. "Was just wondering, is all."

The boys all made cooing noises. A flush of embarrassment washed over Chan at their teasing. Peniel smirked; "Wouldn't blame you, she's gorgeous!"

Chan poured himself a shot of soju, trying his best to drown out their teasing and take the stress away. The three men quit their teasing and talked about mundane things; schedules, new music coming out, and how big the bags under Chan's eyes were.

"I just flew back from New York!"

"Doesn't matter! Ever heard of eye cream!"

They were laughing at one another by the time you entered the room. Everyone stood up to greet you with a bow, and you bowed back. Gesturing for them to take their seats again. "Sounds like a party in here," you smiled as you took a seat next to Chan. He took note of how you wore your hair up in a messy bun, showing off your silver necklace. That flowery smell radiated off of you, and he had to lean a bit to the side so it didn't flood his senses in all the right ways.

"Is that soju or vodka?" You spot a filled shot glass from across the table. "Actually, it doesn't matter. Hand me it."

Chan watched you down the shot with a smile and motioned for Eric to pour you another one. "Hard day?"

The second shot went down a bit smoother and you gave him a grin. "You can say that."

He didn't need to know that the line he whispered in your ear had stressed you out to your core. It was possibly the hottest thing any man has ever said to you. It was all you could think about by the time you reached your dorm. His voice echoed in the back of your mind causing your body to feel hot.

He didn't need to know the real reason why you were late to dinner.

That you were squirming on your bed, rubbing yourself furiously between your legs. Trying to get all the tension out of your body before having to see him again.

And now you were sitting next to him. The man responsible for one of the best solo sessions in your life.

"I mean, I did have to spend half the day with these three." You gestured to the rest of the group who just booed at you. Eric rolled up a napkin and threw it your way, causing you to laugh.

As you and the group ate and drank, the room was beginning to get louder and louder. It wasn't long until everyone became tipsy.

You just finished cooking up your Galbi and offered it to the rest of the group who everyone, except Chan, declined. You used the tongs to bring it over to his plate before attempting to cut it. "Damn things," you huffed under your breath. The scissors were dull and worn out. Trying to cut through the meat was as effective as slicing a rib-eye with a spoon.

"Here," Chan grabbed the tongs and scissors from your hand. Despite the very brief time that his fingers brushed yours, you couldn't help but blush a bit as he gave you your half. You didn't have time to feel embarrassed as you caught Eric eyeing the two of you. He had his fingers interlaced and resting his head on them.

"You two look cute together~"

"Shut up," you mumble and grab some kimchi to add to your plate.

Chan sat quietly next to you. He plopped some food in his mouth, the best excuse he had to not comment. BM chuckled before pouring another round of drinks. "What did you say to her anyway? Peniel was screaming so loud I couldn't even hear it."

The two of you were sitting so close to one another, that you could feel Chan stiffen next to you. No doubt, wanting to avoid another round of ridicule from his colleagues.

"Awe, jealous he wasn't whispering in your ear instead?"

That snarky reply was all it took for the other two boys to holler and tease the living crap out of him. As the night progressed, soon talk of continuing the party commenced. Chan mentioned he had a free dorm tonight.

"You in?"  Eric asked you. You looked up from your plate of Galbi and rice. You were so distracted by your plate that you didn't realize they were all waiting for your answer. You hesitated. You obviously had this attraction to Chan since the interview. Hell since even before you became a trainee. The frustration of him being so near, mixed with alcohol, might just be the equation for something disastrous.

Chan bit his lower lip while sneaking a glance at you. He knew it was stupid to invite everyone over. To invite you over. He was already feeling the effects of drinking so much, trying to keep pace with everyone. What if he slipped up? Did something that made you hate him?

But then a wonderful thought popped into his mind: What if something amazing happened?

"It'll be fun," Chan gave you his shy grin. Your heart raced as you two locked eyes. How could you say no to that face?

"You got this," you whispered to yourself as you stood in front of Chan's door. It wasn't every day you're invited to a celebrity's apartment. Especially one that you've imagined in bed with when you're stressed out after work. Everyone left in their own taxi after dinner, planning to meet up at Chan's. You stayed a bit behind to make some phone calls to your family overseas, promising that you would be there soon. "Totally normal get-together. Nothing to worry about."

After a couple of seconds, you gather enough courage to knock on the door. A moment or two the door swings open and Chan stands there. God, he looked great with his messy hair, black tee, and joggers. Giving him that ready-for-bed look--

"Wait, were you asleep?"

Chan's face turned red. He was in bed. But he definitely wasn't sleeping.

"They didn't text you? They got a call on the way over, their schedule moved up earlier in the morning so they headed back home."

Oh.

You pull out your phone and groan. "Batteries dead." You just had to make those calls? You knew your mom could talk your ear off.

"Sorry," you put the phone back in your pocket. Taking a step back, you start to head out. "Have a good night."

"Wait!" He couldn't just let you leave. It could be from all the alcohol, but watching you saunter away felt wrong. He wanted you near him. To stay. "It's late... You can charge your phone and call a cab here if you want."

You didn't fight it. You know you should've. Chan was right, it was late. The responsible thing to do would be to go home. But that didn't stop you from sitting on his couch waiting for your phone to charge enough to call your ride. The two of you scrolled through YouTube on his TV, chatting about anything that came to mind as you both sipped on some mixed drinks Chan concocted when you first entered the apartment.

It was weird. Without the others, conversation flowed almost naturally between you two.

"You mean to tell me, you've never watched any of your own fan cams?!" You exclaimed. Chan shook his head and laughed shyly.

"No, it felt weird watching close-ups of myself if that makes sense?"

"You really should, they always look phenomenal!"

You grabbed the remote to scroll through the recommended videos to watch. Chan took the opportunity took look you over for the umpteenth time tonight. Here he was just in joggers and an oversized shirt while you sported a cute long-sleeved crop top and tight jeans. He had to grab the pillow next to him to cover up the bulge he was sporting.

You settled on a music video by RenMakesMusic.  The strum of the guitar had Chan bobbing his head along to the beat. The lyrics were a bit dark but meaningful. "This is good," Chan mused. "Turn it up a bit."

You gladly obliged with a smile, pressing the remote's volume button so his subwoofers would have to do some heavy lifting. Music filled the apartment as the two of you watched the video. You didn't realize it initially, but your shoulder pressed against his. You slowly shifted to your right, to create distance not trying to give him the wrong impression, but were surprised when he leaned back into you. It was comforting.

It was right.

"Everything okay?"

Chan's question broke through your mind wandering. You felt your cheeks heat up a bit. "Y-yea, um. Where's the bathroom?"

"Down the hall, to the right."

Chan watched as you made your way to the guest bathroom. He couldn't help but keep his eyes on your backside. Once you disappeared, he leaned further back into the couch and groaned.

What was he doing? Letting you in this late, checking you out when you weren't looking, trying to get any physical contact no matter how little it was. It was stress, it had to be. His schedule has been so hectic lately his body was trying to find relief since his mind was almost running amock. Chan was so lost in thought that he let YouTube play on in the background. Not paying much attention to what was playing.

When you exited the bathroom, you were greeted with bongos and macarenas bouncing through the dorm. Peaking around the corner you spotted Chan leaning against the couch. He had his head back against the rest, his eyes closed. But despite his worn-down posture, he was still tapping his foot to the beat. "Aw, come on--you call that dancing?"

Your voice brought back his focus. His side smile gave you butterflies and you couldn't help but wear your own when he quipped; "Like you know how to dance to this?"

"Alright, Christopher. Get up." You grabbed the remote next to him and turned up the stereo even more. Hopefully, anyone living above or below the apartment wouldn't be able to hear how the bass shook the walls.

His grin widened at the name change. Almost nobody called him that anymore. There was a fine line between 'Chan' and 'Christopher', one that you seemed to be willing to cross.

What else were you willing to do?

Your hand was extended to him as you stood above him from his seat. The gleam in your eye was bright, almost playful. There was this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. Bubbly and light. How the light casts around your silhouette made him realize why he felt the way he did when his eyes locked on you.

You were a goddess.

"You just gonna sit there? Come on, get up."

He didn't know what you said, but by the way, you grabbed onto his hand and pulled him from his seat, he knew he was in no position to argue.

You were a tough dance instructor. You corrected almost every misstep in Spanish. He couldn't comprehend your scolding, but he'll be damned to admit that at this point, he was doing it on purpose. There was something incredibly hot about being reprimanded in an unknown language.

"Dear all that is mighty," you sighed. "You're too stiff, loosen up a bit. Here, why don't you take the lead instead."

That caused his brain to malfunction a bit. He stuttered like a middle school kid being asked to dance for the first time. Without waiting for a reply, you grab his hands in yours and guide them on your body.  His hold on your waist was firm, but not too tough. He didn't want to scare you away. Not when he was so close to you he could smell your shampoo. Especially, not when you wrapped your arms around his neck and those eyes of yours were peering into his soul as you two stepped to the fast beat.

"Feel how my hips are moving?"

Oh, you bet he does.

Pushing those thoughts away, Chan tried to mimic your movement. "That's better!" You praised it, and it took everything in him not to press his body flush against yours right at that moment. He hated to admit it, but as the next song played, something with a slower tempo, every step you took with him around the living room, he somehow magically ended up closer to you.

This is the part where both of you could blame the alcohol.

You both were too inebriated to notice the fact that your phone was fully charged, that your fingers started to play with the bottom of his hair, or the fact that your faces were so close together. Chan's forehead rested on yours as the playlist finally died down to a softer ballad. YouTube ironically telling you two to slow down. But neither showing signs of listening.

"We...are going down a path you might regret." Chan closed his eyes to help steady his breathing. How were you able to do this earlier today? He felt like his heart was going to combust on the spot.

"That I might regret?" You whispered. Being this close to him felt surreal. You were sure you were about to wake up in your bed feeling very frustrated. "You won't?"

The feel of the pressure of your body was draining all his excitement from his chest to his dick. Another form of pressure was beginning to press against his underwear. A flood of penance sprung as quickly as his blood flowed to his quickening erection. "We just barely met. We don't know each other."

You pull away slightly so you can look up at him.

"Then, get to know me."

Chan knew this wasn't what you meant. But, it was too late to turn back now.

You were half-naked, a trail of clothes leading to his room.

For every question he asked, an article of your outfit was essentially ripped off you. Every question you answered, you returned the favor.

"Favorite food?" Whoops, there goes that necklace.

"Beef jerky with sticky rice." Goodbye, Chan's shirt!

He kissed you deeply and backed you up towards his bed. A brief pause as you fell into the soft cushions and he stared down at you. Your lips were puffy, chest rising and falling as you were trying to catch your breath. As much as he reveled in the thought of you being a goddess, there was something about bringing down a higher power that made him absolutely feral. Breaking you down bit by bit with every question. 

He climbed on the bed to hover over you, that stupid side smile making another appearance for the night. "That's not exactly a 'food', more of a meal."

"Sorry if I'm--ah. A bit distracted." You close your eyes as he attaches his lips right below your ear. Sucking on your soft skin, not hard enough to leave bruising, but a temporary mark just for his eyes. 

Biting your lower lip, you happily extended your neck a bit to give him more access. Mind all fuzzy and unable to think as he littered your neck with small kisses. Chan gripped your thigh and pulled it up a bit, lifting your hips just enough to hold you close to his pelvis,  kneading your thighs through your tights.

"Need you to focus." He nipped softly at your skin. "How else am I going to learn everything about you?

"Favorite position?" His fingers went under the hem of your tights and helped you shed the last outer part of your outfit. Once it was thrown somewhere across his room, you wrapped the leg he was holding up around his back and used what momentum you could gather to push his back on the bed. His hands instinctively grabbed onto your hips as you straddled him.

Your lips were soft and gentle as you leaned in for a kiss, the complete opposite of the intensity shared just moments before. "Don't care, so long as I'm full."

Chan wasted no time by stripping himself of his joggers and boxers on your behalf. Stifling a moan as best as he could once he felt your clothed core perfectly placed on his growing erection.  Guiding your hips to grind against him, he grinned as you threw your head back and sighed in content. Chan rocked his hips perfectly to the rhythm he set against you, providing the much-needed friction you craved.

You were starting to think he was tanking at dancing salsa on purpose.

"Anything off limits?" You couldn't even register that his hands snuck up to undo your bra clasp. He took a second to appreciate the view. Chan couldn’t stop himself from using his forearms to prop himself up to latch onto one of your nipples. Licking and sucking at anything he could grab. The mewls coming from your mouth sounded like a song he never wanted to end. Your hand caressed the back of his head, pressing him closer. 

“Just--mmm. Just don’t stop even if I say so.”

Leaving your breast with a wet ‘plop’, he stared up at you. You could see the usual gleam in his eyes disappear. They became dark, almost predatory. Chan lifted you off so he could be above you again. He traced your skin from the collarbone down to the hem of your underwear. You arched your back at his touch; “Luckily for you--I like begging.”

Your breath hitched. Surely, he could see the wet stain on your underwear by now.

“Any safe words then?”

Last question.

Chan finger slipped underneath the cloth and played with your folds. The way you squirmed underneath him made him want to ruin you more. The chuckle he let out when you tried to squeeze your thighs together made you feel warm all the way down to your core. Chan was quick to use his body to keep you nice and spread. All for him.

“L-lemon…”

“Sorry, couldn’t hear you.” Chan slipped the tip of his middle finger in you. “Could you speak up a bit?”

“Pendej--mmmphhh” You couldn’t finish your quip. Chan pushed in further until he was knuckle-deep. His lips hovered over yours as he slowly worked in and out of you. You kept arching and writhing as he continued his ministrations, mouth wide open as you let out silent moans.

“Ah, ah--I wanna hear you.” Once he added in a second finger, you couldn't contain yourself. Moans were spilling out of you like a pornstar. Even when he kissed you, there was nothing to stop the volume you were outputting. “Good job, baby.”

“Oh?” He chuckled as he felt your walls clamp down on him. “Did you like that?”

You couldn't speak as he kept pressing into you, wiggling his fingers against your walls. “C-chan…please…”

“Sorry, what was that?” He teased as he kissed around your collarbone.

“Chan…”

The bastard kept pretending not to hear you. As if he couldn't feel you practically leaking around his fingers and clenching around him like there was no tomorrow. 

You finally had enough.

Grabbing ahold of his face with one hand, you forced him to look at you. His cheeks smashed between your fingers. “Christopher, I swear to God--if you don't fuck me right now I'm taking over.”

Ah, so you did like to be in charge.

With a grin, he gladly ripped off your panties. He pulled away just a bit, taking in your appearance. Wanting to embed it into his brain for any future sessions he might have with himself later on.

He knew he should've grabbed a condom, but the alcohol was still flowing through him and he couldn’t stop himself as he slowly pushed into you. You tried finding words; how big he felt, how full he made you, but all that could come out were whimpers as he groaned and leaned in for another kiss to ease any pain you felt.

The two of you grind against one another. Chan never fully pulled out, keeping himself nice and snug in your warmth. Stretching you out, oh so sweetly.

Chan wasted no time in picking up his thrust as you tapped his shoulder, indicating that he was okay to move. You squeaked as he hooked your knees on his shoulders and leaned down to essentially bend you in half. He was hitting a spot you never felt before; not with previous boyfriends and definitely not with your own toys at home.

“So fucking tight…” Chan hissed as his pace sped up to the point he was jackhammering into you. His lips found their way back to your neck and kept mumbling about how you felt around him. So tight, so warm, just right. His teeth nipped your ear lobe, desperate to grab onto something but knowing he couldn’t mark you up too much. “Is this good, baby? Need it harder, faster?”

When you didn’t respond to him, he slowed down a bit and leaned back to stare down at you. His cock twitched when he realized what was happening.

You laid on the bed; eyes glazed over, mouth wide open, cheeks completely flushed. You knew he was asking you a question in Korean, but the words weren’t forming in your head like they usually do. “Aw,” Chan laughed. “Does it feel that good that you forgot Korean?”

Chan let up on the pressure so his hand can snake its way to your lips. You instantly latch on to his fingers and suck. Your tongue brushes around his tips, tasting the leftover residue of yourself from earlier. Your knees unhook from his shoulder and fall on either side of his waist. A whimper leaves you as he removes his fingers from your mouth and travels down to rub your clit. Still keeping his thrust with his brutal pace.

“Ahhh��wait…” You squirmed and your hand went to grab his wrist. Chan noticed how you didn’t pull his hand away despite your pleas. “Chan, p-please--too much.”

He kept using your body. Chan could feel you clamping down around his length. “Sorry,” he breathed out as he felt the pressure in his balls rising. “You’re just, hmmmph, too perfect.”

That’s what did it for you. The fact that he listened to what you mentioned earlier, and his talk. The crash of pleasure that overcame you was intense. Chan shuddered as he felt your wave around him. “Fuck, fuck fuck,” you came with a cry. Your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to ground yourself in any way that you could. You were loud. Nothing could stop the curses that flowed out of you as you held him close against you. Chan wasn’t far behind; “Oh, I-I’m gonna--”

He pulled out and stroked his cock rapidly around his head, painting your stomach with his warm cum. Of all the art museums he visited around the world--this was by far his favorite piece of work.

The room was filled with both of your heavy pants as he laid in your arms. Once he was able to catch his breath, Chan pulled away from your embrace placing the gentlest kiss on your lips. Humming as you kissed him back. He tried to get up, but you were quick to stop him.

“Don’t go…” You pouted. Part of you knew this would be a one-time thing, but another part never wanted this to end. Chan smiled down at you and gave your cheek a quick peck.

“I’m just grabbing a towel to clean you off.”

As he walked off to the bathroom you stared down at the mess on your abdomen. The remnants of the best sex of your life were starting to cake on your skin. It took everything in you to not scoop some up and taste him in your mouth. When Chan returned with a wet cloth, he cleaned you up before plopping onto the bed beside you.

Once you caught your breath, reality set in.

Here you were, all fucked out with a colleague in the same industry. Everything told you to leave. It wasn’t like the two of you were in a relationship. It was a rash decision based on a lot of alcohol and dancing. You started to get up, but Chan was quick to wrap his hand in yours.

“You…you don’t have to go…” Chan shifted to lay on his side and stared down to not meet your eyes. Acting all shy as if he didn’t fuck the lights out of you just moments before. Your heart melted at the sight.

Slinking back into bed, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you into his chest. His cheek pressed against the top of your forehead. You could feel his heartbeat against you and closed your eyes.

“You know,” you sighed. “This was something I definitely didn’t regret.”

“Me ‘neither.”

As the morning rolled around you woke up to Chan still wrapped around you. His soft snores made you smile. There was something surreal about seeing him so at peace that made your heart flutter. Placing a small kiss on his cheek, Chan shifted slightly and groaned as he stretched a bit.

“Mornin’,” He grumbled but held a smile as soon as his eyes landed on you. Chan wasted no time in pulling you into a kiss. His hands sneaking towards your ass to knead your flesh. His excitement is present against your thigh.

"Somebody's eager," You giggle as he pressed closer to you. Chan smirked as he gently rubbed his morning wood against you.

"You can say that."

"Unfortunately--"

Chan grumbled and hid his face in the crook of your neck. "No, don't say that."

"I was just going to say, that I need some water first." It was true. After all the drinks last night, your head was pounding like never before.

"Okay," Chan smiled and got up from bed to put a pair of boxers on. "Stay put, I'll grab you something to eat too."

Minutes passed as you waited in bed. Surprise overtook you as you heard a pan sizzling and the welcoming smell of home-cooking started to flood the dorm. Dawning one of his shirts, you made your way to the kitchen. Chan's back was to you as he manned the stove. You could see how his back rippled with every movement he made.

You couldn't see it, but a smile crept on Chan's face as he felt you wrap your arms around his midriff. "I thought I told you to stay put?"

"I'm not one for taking orders." You laugh as you hook your chin on his shoulder to peer over him. "Besides," Chan stiffened a bit as he felt your lips hover over his ear. "There's something sexy about a man cooking."

"Oh?" He quickly turned off the stove and turned around to face you. Your arms wrap around his neck as he leaned down closer to your face. "And what about your water?"

It was a frenzy of passion as your lips locked with his yet again. Both of you eager to relive last night in the light of sobriety. "Water can wait," you whisper in between kisses.

Chan easily lifted you, placing you on an open counter. Your legs spread to allow him access to be closer to you. The both of you started to mold into one another as the intensity grows. "I should cook for you more often," He grins as he breaks away from the kiss to catch his breath. He lifted his shirt on you slightly so your cunt was exposed.

"Promise?" You teased as he lowered himself down slightly to bring his lips level to your core. Chan enjoyed the way your head leaned back slightly as you felt his hot breath against you.

"Promise."

The both of you were so entranced with what was about to happen, that you didn't hear the door opening. Only the shrilly scream that bounced around the dorm broke you two apart.

You instantly jumped down from the counter as Chan stood upright, finding protection from behind him. Chan tried using his body to shield your half-naked body from the view of a very frightened Felix.

Not that he really needed too.

The younger member held both hands over his eyes. Groceries bags around him, spilling its contents around the floor.

"Felix?" Chan stuttered as he grabbed a kitchen rag to cover up his erection. "W-what are you doing here?"

Chan gestured for you to run back to the room as Felix was still covering his eyes. You had no hesitation, wanting to escape from the embarrassment. AKA your own personal hell.

"I didn't want you eating alone... I was gonna make breakfast."

Author's Note: Here it is! Please let me know what you think. I'm also open to requests, I really want to get back into writing and interacting more on here. If you'd like to be added to my taglist please interact with this post (linked). Bye~

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[moon-ttokki-x]

‧₊ a little bit sweeter - (roommate!han jisung x reader) ˚‧

pairing: college roommate!han jisung x reader

summary: jisung realises that he feels something more for his roommate who loves to bake.

genre: college!au, mentions of eating and drinking, slightly suggestive ? kissing, jisung being a whole simp for reader, one sus joke, making cookies (bc i'm craving them so bad rn)

a/n: hihi~ inspired by this post, so i'm tagging @butteredsushi and @jisunggy thanks for the fic inspo guys <3 div by @kodaswrld

skz masterlist

"Whatcha doing?"

You look up just as Jisung, your roommate, enters the kitchen, no doubt drawn by the clattering noises that you've filled the flat with. He hops up on the counter, peeking behind you in interest, where you've set a heap of bowls and pans onto the countertop.

"Just wanted to make something," you exhale, poking his cheek before moving to find the bowl you're looking for. Jisung hums and sits back on the counter, leaning on his hands as he watches you clumsily sift through the pile, muttering to yourself.

"Do I get to eat whatever it is that you're making?" He asks carefully, secretly crossing his fingers in a hope you'll say yes.

You huff and stand up from where you've been bending and peering into the cabinets. "Ji, we literally live together."

"Yeah, but like, were you planning to eat it all by yourself?"

You laugh, gesturing for him to open the cupboard directly below his feet, which he does. "Maybe, but we both know you would have eaten most of it. Do you want to eat something specific?"

"Cookies," he says instantly, not hesitating. His cheeks flush pink.

You roll your eyes, taking out a spoon. "Should've known."

Jisung throws his hands up defensively. "What? They're good for days like this, with the weather how it is right now. Be for real."

He has a point, you think as you look out the window.

It's drizzling in a fine swell over what you can see of the city, a heavy, almost blue fog casting itself like a blanket over the buildings. Classes ended early today, and you'd wanted nothing more to rush back to your dorm and rid yourself of the soaked, cold clothes you'd had to be in all morning.

To say the least, it had been extremely unpleasant weather, and it had taken at least an hour standing under the steaming water of the shower to try and bring your body's temperature up again.

You shiver as your eyes flicker over to the door, your still-wet shoes leaking droplets of storm water onto the plastic bag you'd set them upon in an attempt to keep the floor dry. Jisung was already back from his lecture by the time you got in, and he hadn't even looked up as you'd rushed into your room and slammed the door, soaking wet and chattering as you turned the water on.

At least, you think he hadn't looked up at you. In reality, he'd been waiting for the moment the door would open and you would come in.

But you didn't notice. You never do.

You set two more bowls onto the counter, missing the way Jisung's eyes follow yours as you move across the floor, gaze fixed on the way your hair is still drying, hanging in little damp clusters over your ears and nape. Your cheeks are flushed, most likely from the boiling water you shower in, and your figure is swamped in an oversized hoodie and a pair of grey sweats. His heart jolts as he looks you up and down, trying to fight that warm feeling that seems to rise in his chest every time he meets your gaze.

I have a hoodie that looks almost the same... it looks like you're wearing my clothes. That'd be so hot...

"...and then I had to rush all the way back here because it was so cold and rainy outside. You have a point, to be honest; I was thinking about eating something warm and delicious when I got back, but I wanted something a little bit sweeter- Ji. Ji, are you listening?"

"H-huh?" He shakes his head, thoughts of you in his clothes hastily evaporating. "Uh, yeah."

You point a measuring cup at him cheekily. "Liar. What's wrong? Are you too hot? I can turn the thermostat down if you want... I turned it up super high when I got back because it was so cold-"

"N-no, it's okay," he interrupts. "Sorry. Just a long morning. Classes and all that."

You shoot him a sympathetic look, opening a packet of self-raising flour. "Yeah, I get that. Poor you... And all this rain, too... not really ideal for all the walking we have to do nowadays."

Jisung can't help but smile softly at your rambling, holding the edge of the bowl as you almost knock it off the countertop. Your measuring spoon gets bumped in the process and a small puff of flour spills onto Jisung's knee, dusting the loose, black denim.

"Oops," you say sheepishly, setting the cup down. "Sorry."

He's about to reply and tell you it's okay before his gaze flits down to your hand, which is gently brushing off his knee. And suddenly, he can't seem to focus on anything but your touch. It's warm, even through the thick fabric, and he finds himself wishing you'd bumped the measuring cup a little harder so you could be brushing off all the flour for longer, your fingers gentle against his leg.

He doesn't even mind that there's a subtle white patch on the denim where it spilt.

You scratch the back of your head. "Hang on, let me get a paper towel-"

"No, don't worry," he blurts out. "I-it's fine."

You look up in surprise, tapping another cupful of flour into the bowl before adding a haphazard mix of baking soda, salt, and cornstarch over it. "Are you sure? I'm gonna make a mess in this place. I don't want your clothes to get dirty..."

"It's fine," he says again, a little more confidently. "I can just take them off."

You splutter, sending a puff of flour into the air, making both of you cough as Jisung waves his hands frantically, cheeks scarlet.

"I-i didn't mean it like that," he coughs, flustered. "I meant-"

"I know what you meant," you say, fighting a grin as you turn away to open the fridge. "Honestly, Ji."

He drops his face into his hands just as you crack two eggs into another bowl, heading back to the fridge for the stick of half-finished butter on the top shelf. You've learnt to buy more butter than you think you need; your roommate has a habit of using far too much butter than necessary on his toast. Not that your topping habits are much better; the Nutella jar is usually empty after a day.

Anyways.

Placing the rest of the butter in a small glass bowl, you set the microwave timer for 30 seconds before closing the door. Jisung's eyes follow the bowl spinning round and round inside, the butter seeping and melting into an oily mess against the glass edges.

His fingers tap against the countertop as you move your bowls over to where he's sitting, your shoulder brushing his arm as you busy yourself with tipping brown and granulated sugar into yet another bowl. Jisung cheekily dips his finger into the mixture and brings it to his mouth as you smack his hand away, relishing the raw, saccharine taste of the grains.

"You have to stop doing that.. Ew, Ji!"

He wipes his finger nonchalantly on your arm, much to your disgust. Ignoring your groans, he hums to himself as you take the melted butter from the microwave, slamming the door shut again.

"Stop doing what?" He says innocently.

"Dipping your little thieving paws into the bowls... you'll contaminate it. And wiping said paws on my arm..."

"So?" He says, grinning, ears still red from his earlier comment. "It's not like anyone else but you and me are eating the stuff you make."

You huff and tip the butter into the bowl, spilling half of it in the process. "I'm gonna put raisins in these if you keep provoking me."

"No!"

"Shut up and stop bothering me then," you huff, one hand coming up to matter-of-factly wipe a tiny speckle of sugar from the corner of his lip.

He's about to make a comment, but he goes silent; his face turns the colour of the cherry tomatoes in the fridge crisper as you whisk the butter into the sugar mixture. You don't even notice how quiet he's gone, and as a habit, begin to ramble.

"I can't believe the mixer broke," you say absentmindedly. "I had to search for ages and ages for a recipe that didn't need a mixer for the process. It's actually so much easier to melt the butter too... last time I did this, I didn't mix it all in properly so the cookies tasted horrible after- not that you cared, of course, because I came back to the glass dish where I put them in a day before and they were all gone- Ji, you're not listening again."

"Yes I am," he says, strained. His face is red.

"No you're not. Anyways, I had to find substitutes for most of the ingredients until I could get to the store last week.."

You run off on yet another tangent about the recipe and different methods of baking and flavours, but all Jisung can focus on is the fact that you just touched his lip, wiped away whatever it was that what on his mouth, without so much as blinking. Like it was nothing... He finds himself beginning to panic a little; his face still feels all hot and tingly.

They just wiped my mouth for me... Wait, isn't that what couples do in the movies?? Does that mean.. no, it doesn't, because they didn't even blink when they did it. There's no way they feel the way I do right now, like this- is it hot in here? My face feels so warm...

He's about to lift the neckline of his hoodie to try and fan some air into his body, but not before something sweet-smelling and textured lands on the apple of his cheekbone.

He freezes, watching as you dip a finger into a bowl full of white paste. Frosting.

You know Jisung likes frosting on his cookies; it's a fact he hasn't even told you, but you know from the way he always secretly opens the tub of ready-made icing in the fridge that he likes them to be eaten that way. You always make a bowl of it whenever you bake now, just for him. Currently, you can't get over the look on his face; shocked, and almost distant, like he was distracted by something.

You managed to crack the eggs, mix all the ingredients together, add chocolate chips to the mixture, form the dough into balls, and put it all into the oven without him making so much as a comment. And then slightly warm up the icing too. He's never been this quiet.

Like, ever.

"Are you okay?" You smile. "You look a million miles away."

He gulps and watches as you dip a different finger into the icing, some of it remaining on your lip as you lick your fingertip clean. He can feel the tiny dollop of frosting you've dotted on his cheek. It's probably melting with how hot his face feels.

His gaze never leaves your mouth, and his eyes flit to the mess you've made of the counter; there's not a single ingredient you haven't managed to spill a quantity of. Most of it is staining your clothes too, not that you seem to care.

Y/n...

"Ji?" You wave a hand in front of his face, trying to rid him of the glazed look in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Silence. Then-

"You look so beautiful," he murmurs.

It slips out so unexpectedly that he can't even bring himself to be surprised or regretful about it; if he never tells you, you'll never know how stunning you look in the moment, all damp hair and flour-smeared cheeks.

And maybe you don't look lovely to anyone else, but to Jisung, he's never seen anything more beautiful. And in a moment of instant clarity, he knows he's regret it forever if he doesn't tell you how he's felt for so long. Or worse, if someone else decides to tell you the same thing, and he never gets his chance...

You blink at the unexpected sentiment, not thinking much of it. "Thanks."

Turning away, you pick up a bowl and deposit it in the sink before Jisung pulls you back by the shoulder, you tumbling between his legs from where he's still sitting on the counter.

You don't even get a moment to process what's happening before his mouth is pressed gently against yours, tasting of sweet icing and brown sugar.

You mold yourself immediately into his embrace as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you a little closer as his head tilts to the left. You're pretty sure he's almost breaking his neck, kissing you like this, but you couldn't care less, and it seems, neither can he.

"Jisung," you exhale against his lips, almost gasping.

"Sorry," he whispers, though there's a hint of cheekiness behind it that he can't quite disguise. "Should've asked to kiss you..."

You giggle and pull him in again, your hands finding their way to his nape, playing with the tiny, soft hairs there before he pulls back to gaze at you. "It's okay."

He looks too far gone now; his hair is deliciously rumpled from you running your fingers every which way through it, his cheeks still stained pink. The frosting on his cheek is smeared, a long, pale streak against the perfect planes of his skin.

You're about to pull him in again, and his mouth eagerly moves towards yours, but he only gets a light brush against your lips before the oven timer rudely interrupts, beeping and echoing in the silence of the flat. He groans as you turn away and reach across to switch it off.

You hear Jisung laugh breathlessly behind you as you peer through the oven glass; the cookies, once round and perfect, have now spread into a chocolatey mess across the baking tray, and you can see several small bits of dough beginning to burn dark against the hot surface of the oven grilles.

"Shit," you mumble as Jisung pulls you back into him, peppering kisses over your face. "I forgot to chill the dough before I put them in..."

"Screw that," he sighs against you. "We should chill instead. Just us, hmm? Cancel whatever plans you had..."

"Done," you whisper. "But what about the cookies-"

Jisung pulls you impossibly closer, his breath a warm fan across your cheeks and neck.

"Forget that," he murmurs. "I have something sweeter."

a/n: i forgot how fun writing jisung is >< asks open !

ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @batty-barty-crouchjr @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps

send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !

[sugarish]

　 an    event    by    @sugarish 　　　　　　　　　　　　　 extra lore (cont. of below)

'what is this place?' you blurt out in a mumbled voice, afraid to interrupt the quiet conversations between the customers. your eyes constantly fixate on the decorative cups they use to drink teas of various colours, and most likely various flavours.

'this is a teahouse. and those cups,' he points at the cups that you stare at, and it makes you blush from the sudden idea of being caught, 'they're called chawan. you might have noticed they come in different colours and sizes.'

you subconsciously beam at the idea of there being several different kinds of cups; chawan, that a small smile bubbles up from within you. the genuine kind that you haven't felt in a while. you turn to face the worker, who is eyeing you curiously as you take your time with examining the room. 'you've got a knack for creativity, i think. i reckon you'd do well here.'

chado  (also known  as  chanoyu, or simply a 'tea ceremony')  is  a  cultural  practice  centred  around  preparing  and  serving  matcha,  and  it  is  known  for  promoting  qualities  such  as  well-being  and  mindfulness.  it  is  based  around  the  four  core  principles:  harmony,  respect,  purity,  and  tranquillity.  in  chado,  it  is  important  to  emphasise  these  principles  in  order  to  successfully  practise  the  way  of  tea.

❀ 𓈒 how to participate.

sign  your  name  on  this  post  to  indicate  you're  joining,  and  send  this  post  off  to  2-3  people  who  may  be  interested.

enter  @wreverie  teahouse  (dms)  and  give  the  manager  a  lil  heads  up  that  you  will  be  starting  your  shifts.  the  manager  will  respond  with  a  warm  welcome  and  a  randomised  principle  you  must  work  with  along  with  its  meaning.

create  a  moodboard  that  suits  the  vibes  of  the  principle,  and  you  MUST  add  a  picture  of  a  chawan  into  it.  examples  of  chawan  can  be  seen  below.

the  chawan  can  be  used  as  a  png  in  a  collage  or  can  be  used  as  a  regular  picture. the pictures do NOT have to be the ones above.

when  posting,  ensure  to  tag  @sugarish  in  the  comments  or  post  and  use  the  tag  #eerie; reverie  so  she  can  pass  your  creation  off  to  the  manager.  not  following  this  step  will  have  your  moodboard  not  counted!

if any questions or queries arise, please feel free to dm @wreverie.

❀ 𓈒 guidelines.

make  sure  your  moodboard  is  unique.  the  manager  wouldn't  want  a  duplicate  recipe  in  their  storage!

you  gain  more  points  for  being  creative  i.e.  adding  gifs,  custom  pics  &  locs,  collages,  etc.

your  creations  must  be  given  to  @sugarish  by  1st  of  june.  if  you  are  in  need  of  more  time,  please  dm  @wreverie!

❀ 𓈒 prizes.

1st ;  shoutout,  3  custom  moodboards,  50  reblogs  for  3  moodboards,  rentry-style (or the other style i do)  blog  theme, 1  set  of  dividers  (3-5  divs)

2nd ;  shoutout,  2  custom  moodboards,  50  reblogs  for  2  moodboards,  rentry-style  banner (or the other style i do), 1  set  of  dividers  (3-5  divs)

3rd ;  shoutout,  1  custom  moodboard,  50  reblogs  for  1  moodboard,  1  set  of  dividers  (3-5  divs)

honourable mentions ; 1 custom moodboard, 25 reblogs for 1 moodboard.

reblogs  are  posted  on  @2sugarie.

moodboards,  shoutouts  and  divs  are  posted  on  @sugarish.

blog  theme  /  banner  will  be  dmed  to  you  via  @sugarish.

examples  of  rentry-style  banners:  press  here.

if you have won a placement and don't want the prizes due to any sort of circumstance, that is okay! simply dm @sugarish during claiming time and notify that you do not want prizes. other than that, prizes will not be negotiated; you will get what you get depending on where you place.

woahhhhhhh heyy guys long time no see!!!! !! this is my 3rd sugarish event , and the 2nd sugarish event to be connected to the sugarish lore.

ive been pondering abt the concept for a good while and i think its safe to say that it is COMPLETE !!!! that little 'choose your own adventure' post i made a wee while back was bc i had another idea in mind that replaced this event concept. ive figured that the best thing to do is to make that my next event :333

also surprisingly this took a much shorter amount of time to make than re; collections in terms of the actual event post so i am very very happy. w/ re; collections i had to remake it 3 times bc it KEPT AUTOMATICALLY POSTING

either way , thats all i have to say for noww. if you had made it this far in reading , i hope to see you participating in the event -- it would mean a lot to me !

❀ 𓈒 tag  list. (if you are not in the tag list you can still join!)

@swhore  @cwrcent  @lucidve  @lvioung  @fairytopea @i-mmaculatus  @y-vna  @ioveday  @yeritos  @yonkiibums @linoboba  @lilaquette  @soulari  @baekry  @n-americano @haobae  @youuthh  @y-urios  @florescita  @hourlyhoon @flutterdashes  @aegsll  @p-oisn  @awwriri  @jaexiyu @hyunjinsvoir  @heavenurl  @aceorei  @yeossemble  @koosuvi @wonjuii  @tzulipss  @aestradairio  @binzuzu  @kissunoo @florescita @suupersonic

[sirhamburrger]

TERRESTRIAL - bokuakakuroken x reader, separate

~ things, so undeniably human, that remind you of them ~ wc: 505 || tags/cw: none, fluffy || div creds to @enchanthings-a ~ part 1: celestial (seijoh 4) || part 3 (tbc)

TETSUROU KUROO is a chemical reaction - different kinds of chemical reactions, even. reactions with him can be fleeting, ephemeral. or they can be long-lasting, near-irreversible. because that’s exactly the way he enters your life, loud and warm and without warning. soon you can’t remember what life was like before him, can’t see a life without him. you’re bonded for life now, and both of you are stronger for it. you are like carbon and iron fused together to make unbreakable steel. you are like rubidium and water, resulting in a quick and explosive reaction. what you will become tomorrow is never certain, but that’s okay. you change each other, and you change with each other.

KENMA KOZUME is a painting. you can’t exactly say which—he’s still life, like three apples in a ceramic bowl. (the thought makes you laugh.) he’s the cats in one of those medieval paintings, the ones that look a little wonky. he’s the kind of art you don’t always understand at first glance, the kind that makes you tilt your head and squint, wondering what the artist meant. but the longer you look, the more you see - the careful strokes, the quiet details, the emotion woven into every shade and shadow. some might overlook him, dismiss him as muted, but those who take the time to truly see him know: kenma kozume is art in its purest form, and you appreciate and understand him in a way that words can never quite capture.

KOUTAROU BOKUTO is physics. yes, he’s the broad study of matter and how it behaves. doesn’t that seem a little absurd? not to the people who know him. everything he does seems so random; it’s hard to predict what he might say or do next. but in reality, he lives by a set of rules - rules that dictate how he behaves from day to day. the three rules of koutarou bokuto are: 1) play good volleyball for msby, 2) stay on top of the things that come with adulthood, and 3) love you as best as he can. he does these three things so methodically that you sometimes forget he is first and foremost a scatterbrain. what can you say? koutarou bokuto is an unstoppable force of nature.

KEIJI AKAASHI is a poem waiting to be completed. sure, he might’ve been good in maths and science back in high school - heck, he was good at everything back in high school - but his true passion? it’s always been the more abstract, the more literary. so when he meets you, one of the more bright-eyed students in his early-morning literature lectures, it’s like love at first sight. he seeks you out to pore over texts, using it as a guise to spend more time with you, to truly decipher you and read between the lines of the living poetry that is you. and even now, not even halfway through his life, not even halfway through his life’s epic poem, and he knows he wants you in the rest of it.

haikyuu masterlist || general masterlist © sirhamburrger

[biblical-chronicles]

Hired

______________________________________________________

where Noel makes sure to interview you rather thoroughly [18+]

______________________________________________________

You were perched on the edge of a sleek, rather uncomfortable couch, clutching your portfolio like a lifeline. The receptionist had offered a forced smile and a vague instruction to "wait here," before returning to her screen.

Minutes stretched into half an hour, the ticking clock not helping your anxiety. You shifted in your seat, glancing at the closed doors that led deeper into the studio building. Just as you mustered the courage to approach the desk again, a door burst open.

A man in a tailored suit hurried out, his expression a mix of guilt and urgency. "You'll be fine, Noel. Do it for me, yeah? I owe you one!" he called over his shoulder.

Behind him stood Noel, arms crossed, a scowl etched on his face. His gaze followed the man until he disappeared, then shifted to you. "You the one here for the tech position?" he asked, his voice tinged with resignation.

You nodded, caught off guard. "Yes, that's me."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Looks like I've been roped into interviewing you. Brilliant." He gestured for you to follow. "Come on, let's get this over with."

He led you through a maze of corridors, the hum of equipment and muffled music growing louder. Finally, he opened a door to a modest studio room. "Here we are," he said, motioning for you to enter.

You stepped inside, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

Noel just gave you a look as if he was already regretting this and motioned toward the small corner of the studio where two mismatched chairs sat by a half-dead fern. You followed him in, careful not to trip over a coiled cable underfoot.

He collapsed into one of the chairs with a low grunt, legs sprawled out, arms crossed tight over his chest. You sat down opposite him, a little too stiff, trying not to look like your heart was going at full speed.

He glanced at you once, then again, slower the second time.

“I’ll be honest with you,” he said. “This ain’t me job. Interviewing people. Not really me scene.”

You nodded, but didn’t speak. Not sure if you were supposed to yet.

He sighed through his nose “But apparently today I’m HR.”

You offered the faintest smile, but he didn’t return it. His fingers tapped a silent rhythm against his bicep.

“So,” he said finally. “Why this job?”

You swallowed. “I’ve been doing freelance tech stuff for a bit. Mostly live gigs. Smaller studio setups. I studied it properly, audio engineering, looking to collect more meaningful work experience.”

He nodded once, eyes on you, like he was weighing that against something in his head.

“And what — you reckon you’ve got the ears for it? The touch?”

“I think so.”

“Think so?” He leaned his head back against the wall, gaze still fixed. “Hope so. Can’t be half-arsed in here. One buzz on a mic and most the divs here start flipping tables.”

You didn't know if it was supposed to be a joke, but smiled anyway, trying to ignore the way your palms felt a bit damp against your knees.

His eyes drifted, not rudely, just steady. You felt them flick to your hands for a beat too long before snapping back to your face.

“And what are you like under pressure?”

You hesitated.

He didn’t blink.

“I can handle it,” you said, quieter than you meant to.

He raised one eyebrow like he didn’t quite buy it.

The room had gone still again. The hum of the equipment in the walls felt louder in the silence. You shifted in your seat. His foot tapped once against the scuffed floor and stopped.

You weren’t looking at him, not really, but you could feel the weight of his stare.

Then, without warning, he stood up. Sharp motion. His chair creaked under the shift.

You blinked up at him.

“Alright,” he muttered, stretching his arms once before letting them fall to his sides. “Enough waffle. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He jerked his head toward the console.

You stood too quickly, bumping your knee on the edge of the table. He didn’t say anything, but his mouth twitched like he clocked it.

You followed him to the board, pulse in your ears.

He didn’t touch you, didn’t even stand that close.

But you could still feel the heat of him beside you as he reached past you, fingers brushing a toggle.

“What’s this?”

You couldn't even properly look at him before answering, too afraid of your voice failing you. “EQ strip. Four-band. High-pass here.”

He said nothing. Just stood there.

You tried not to glance. Tried not to think about how close he was, or how loud your heartbeat felt in your neck.

He flicked another switch. Closer this time.

“And that?”

You exhaled through your nose. “Talkback mic. Routes to the booth.”

Still nothing. No comment. No hum of agreement. Just the sound of your own breath and the soft mechanical whir of the studio around you.

He moved again, slowly, quiet footsteps on the worn floor, close enough now that you were hyper-aware of where he might end up if he took one more step. His hand slid across the desk, steady, fingers dragging absently over a strip of tape marked with notes.

He didn't speak again for a while. Just watched.

You adjusted the routing, said something about line level versus mic input, couldn’t quite remember how you phrased it. He didn’t correct you. Just stood there, still, like he had all the time in the world.

The silence started to itch. Your leg bounced once, then stilled. You shifted your weight — not much, just enough to feel like you were doing something.

He finally stepped forward and leaned slightly to the side, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body, though he didn’t touch you. Just leaned in and pointed at another knob on the console.

“Preamp gain,” you said, before he could ask properly. Your voice came out smaller than you meant. “Input level.”

He stayed where he was.

You stared forward, blinked hard once.

Your palms felt damp, but you weren’t about to wipe them on your jeans. You held them together, knuckles pressed tight. Anything to keep still.

Then, finally:

“Alright.” he said, like a verdict.

You didn’t even notice him move after that, but his presence was suddenly right behind you. You could feel the heat from his body close enough to make your skin prickle.

His breath brushed the edge of your ear, soft but unmistakable.

“What’s this button do?” he asked. You could feel his words against your neck, the way they made you shiver involuntarily.

Your fingers were unsteady on the console as you forced yourself to look at the dial he was pointing to, willing your brain to remember the answer.

“Low-pass filter,” you whispered, trying to push the words out clearly, but they sounded weaker than you intended. Your throat was tight.

A breath of approval, a soft hum, followed by a whisper in your ear. “Good.”

It felt like a reward, but it hit your skin differently, sending a hot wave down your spine that made your legs feel a little shaky beneath you.

His hand moved, his fingers brushing lightly across your shoulder, and your whole body jolted. You hadn’t realized how much you were anticipating his touch until you felt the lightness of it against your skin. You tried to ignore the heat flooding your face, the way your pulse had already jumped too high.

“Next,” he said, his voice quieter, but his proximity making it feel like he was right in your ear.

His finger moved to another dial, and you instinctively followed the motion with your gaze. But you couldn’t focus. Not with him leaning in so close again.

"Compression," you breathed out, your voice even weaker now.

He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing the edge of your ear as he murmured, "Good."

You shifted slightly, your hands moving nervously over the console, as you looked back at him.

Yet you couldn't even get a word out, as he just grabbed your chin and tilted it slowly, just enough to pull your attention back to the board in front of you.

You tried to swallow, but your mouth was dry.

“What’s this?” His question was almost nonchalant, his voice nothing more than a murmur against the curve of your neck, just close enough that you couldn’t ignore it.

You couldn’t even think. Your mind was empty except for his voice, his presence, the weight of him right behind you.

He waited. He let the silence drag on, stretching out between the two of you. His eyes never left yours, a quiet challenge flickering in their depths.

“Go on,” he urged, soft but firm. “Answer.”

You weren’t sure if you could. The words were stuck in your throat, and every part of you felt like it was burning under his stare. But finally, your mouth opened, and the answer slipped out.

“Reverb unit.”

There was another beat of silence, and then Noel’s lips curled into a slow smile, just enough to let you know he had you right where he wanted you.

“Good,” he murmured.

Noel moved back again, but not far enough to let you feel like you could breathe. Just a few paces back, arms crossed, one hip cocked lazily against the edge of the rack cabinet. Watching you.

“Sit,” he said finally, nodding toward the chair at the console.

You moved without argument.

He stepped forward and dropped back into the other chair beside you.

“Back to it,” he said, like he hadn’t just wrecked your composure. “I’ve still got questions.”

You blinked, unsure whether to laugh or fold in on yourself. He didn’t seem to care either way.

“Routing,” he said flatly. “You’ve got drums in one room, bass in another. Tell me how you’d set up the sends.”

You inhaled. Focused. Tried to.

“Separate submixes,” you said quietly. “Drums through a bus with pre-fader sends. Bass isolated with DI and room mic blend.”

He made a small noise. Approval, maybe.

Then his hand slid over to your thigh.

You froze.

Not completely. But enough.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t look. Just traced a slow, thoughtful line along the inside seam of your jeans. Fingers pressing just enough to be felt.

“And what if the kick’s bleeding into the snare mic?” he asked, voice steady. “What’s your fix love?”

You tried to breathe around the bloom of heat crawling up your neck.

“Gate the snare,” you said. “Or… move the kick mic. Change the polar pattern.”

His fingers curved. Just slightly. Like he was rewarding you.

“That’s it,” he murmured.

Then, like it was nothing, he popped the button on your jeans.

Your breath stuttered.

“Need to know how you think under pressure,” he said, voice gone low. “That alright with you?”

You nodded.

The zipper came down with a quiet hiss.

And then his hand slid inside.

You bit your lip so hard you tasted metal.

Noel still didn’t look at you. Just leaned in, adjusted a knob absently on the board with his other hand.

His fingers were already slipping under the waistband of your underwear, dragging the fabric down just enough to bare skin, his ring providing a cool sensation.

“You still answering questions,” he said, “or am I wasting me time?”

You swallowed.

“N–No. I’m ready.”

“Good.” His fingers pressed lower, parted your folds gently. “Let’s see what you can remember now.”

The first touch was maddening — just the pad of one finger circling slow, cruel. Not giving you what you needed. Just letting you know he could.

“What’s your go-to mic for vocals?” he asked.

You blinked, trying to focus past the heat flaring across your skin.

“U87,” you managed. “Or a Shure SM7B if—”

A second finger slipped through your folds, sliding slick over sensitive nerves.

“If what?” he prompted.

“If… it’s a rougher vocal. Or… male.”

He smirked at that.

“Male, yeah?” His voice dipped.

You couldn’t speak. Not when his fingers slid deeper — slowly entering you — his palm pressing flush against you as his thumb dragged up to circle your clit.

“Fuck—” you gasped.

“Language,” he muttered against your neck, lips grazing just under your ear. “You want more, you earn it.”

He didn’t move for a breathless moment, letting you squirm on his hand, your hips twitching upward without meaning to.

“What’s your fix for latency?” he asked.

You could barely think.

“Buffer size,” you choked out. “Too big—lag. Too small—glitches.”

Your thighs tensed, breath shuddering out like it was punched from your chest.

“Good girl.” he whispered.

He continued his almost rhythmic movements. Fingers curling just right, thumb rubbing little maddening circles that made it impossible to keep your eyes open. You were melting into the chair, legs spread, mouth open and breath coming in broken waves.

“C’mon,” he said softly. “You know this one.”

You didn’t even hear the question, only registering his voice, the motion of his hand, the way your body was climbing higher with every stroke. Every flick.

You felt him shift closer, his free hand reaching to adjust a gain knob like this was just another afternoon session. Like you weren’t dripping on his fingers.

He brought his mouth close again, lips barely brushing your cheek.

“How many inputs can you run on a standard 8-bus console?”

“Sixteen,” you whispered. “With pairing—thirty-two.”

He hummed, pleased.

His fingers moved faster. Deeper.

The world broke apart.

You moaned, sharp, involuntary. One hand flying to grip the console, the other to his wrist, not to stop him, but to hold onto anything.

“You’re close,” he murmured. “Can feel it. Don’t hold back on me now, yeah love?”

It rolled through you then, sudden and hot, like all the tension had pooled in your spine and snapped forward all at once. Your body convulsed around his hand, legs trembling, breath gone to static.

He didn’t stop. Not right away. Slowed only when your hips began to twitch from sensitivity, then pulled his fingers out with slow reverence.

You sagged in the chair, half-breathless, eyes fluttering open to find him watching you.

He stood, wiping his fingers on the thigh of his jeans, then leaning forward to tap the console lightly.

“Levels are still good,” he said, like none of it had happened. “Consider yourself hired.”

______________________________________________________

I am back ya lot !!

hope you liked it, also actual audio engineers please excuse any jarring mistakes, this is all quickly googled knowledge here x

so glad to be scribbling away again xx

[selfship-help]

300 followers raffle!

thank you so so much to the 300 of you who enjoy this blog! we never imagined that this blog could reach such a milestone and we're honored that you all are here with us! to celebrate, we're hosting another raffle, similar to our 100 follower one!

up to three people can win this time! the winners will get their own custom userboxes of their ship! for example:

an image must be provided for the userbox (w/ credit to the artist if it's not your art) and a ship name if you have one (otherwise we'll improvise) - we will take care of the rest!

how to enter! follow this blog (new followers welcomed)! +1 entry reblog or reply with confirmation that you've done this, otherwise it won't count!

bonus entries! follow mod ☁️'s main blog, @hsrwife! +1 entry follow mod 🌠's selfship blog, @marzipanloves! +1 entry

rules ! 1. no proships allowed, obvs! 2. please check the DNI of our personal blogs before entering! 3. if we share an f/o that we're uncomfortable sharing, we won't be able to do a userbox for that specific ship! we're very sorry! 4. the ship doesn't have to be romantic! if you'd like to request a familial or platonic f/o, etc, just let me know! :) 5. you can only win once! this is so that everyone has a fair chance.

deadline: may 17th div credit

[fawningflowered]

kate martin x barista reader ˗ˏˋ☕ˎˊ˗

coffee kisses.

— kate started coming into the cafe you work at because her usual was closed for renovations. she wasn’t one to love change, but she was one to love coffee.

— the shop was small, and local. not many people came to this one as it was in a pretty secluded part of town, and most didn’t even know it had been built a few years back. the only customers you had were men who came in everyday hoping today would be the day you’d say yes to going out on a date with them, or people like kate who’d just put “coffee shop near me” into their gps. the coffee was amazing, the pastries were to die for, and you could say that your customer service was great. 

— her order was simple, easy to remember, and she was major sweetheart who always tipped you much more than you thought you deserved. every time you saw her car pull up, her order was made to perfection and some sort of doodle was draw on her cup.

— given she was extremely attractive, and her manners made her so much more enchanting, you were feeling bold. the shop was empty, your coworker was on break, and it was only you and kate. the girl stood looking at her phone, waiting for her order. you called her name, and handed her the cup which you had written “for the pretty blonde”. kate thanked you, not even bothering to look at the cup until she had entered her car. the second she’d read that her mind was all over the place. had this cup been for her? who else would it be for? did you find her pretty?

— the next time she visited the shop, she’d finally worked up the courage to ask for your number. 

“could i have your number. im sorry if that’s weird.. it’s fine if not, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” she said, fumbling over her words.

“i’ve been waiting for you to ask,” you giggle. you handed her her cup with your number written on the side.

— the two of you would facetime, and hangout, first as “friends” but you both knew you’d never be “friends”. the mutual attraction that neither of you would admit was the elephant in the room, both of you too afraid it would scare the other off. 

— the second you got together, dating rumors were all over. not that you minded. you adored being able to call the blonde yours. your dumb videos posted about being a barista were suddenly viral and business at the shop was doing so well that you’d been given a raise. 

her posting pictures of you in you’re uniform with the caption “barista of the year!!” 

— the kisses shared between you two tasted coffee-like and maybe that’s why she was so addicting. you were hooked on her touch, you craved the feeling of her lips on yours. you both loved your “coffee kisses”.

divs are by @/anitalenia , feedback encouraged , first wnba work.

[shehimin]

Edgaring time!

Tutorial on how to make your own responsive Edgar :D I will try to explain it in really basic terms, like you’ve never touched a puter (which if you’re making this… I’m sure you’ve touched plenty of computers amirite??? EL APLAUSO SEÑOOOREEES).

If you have some experience I tried to highlight the most important things so you won’t have to read everything, this is literally building a website but easier.

I will only show how to make him move like this:

Disclaimer: I’m a yapper.

Choosing an engine First of all you’ll need something that will allow you to display a responsive background, I used LivelyWallpaper since it’s free and open-source (we love open-source).

Choosing an IDE Next is having any IDE to make some silly code! (Unless you can rawdog code… Which would be honestly impressive and you need to slide in my DMs and we will make out) I use Visual Studio!!!

So now that we have those two things we just need to set up the structure we will use.

Project structure

We will now create our project, which I will call “Edgar”, we will include some things inside as follows:

Edgar

img (folder that will contain images) - thumbnail.png (I literally just have a png of his face :]) - [some svgs…]

face.js (script that will make him interactive)

index.html (script that structures his face!)

LivelyInfo,json (script that LivelyWallpaper uses to display your new wallpaper)

style.css (script we will use to paint him!)

All of those scripts are just literally like a “.txt” file but instead of “.txt” we use “.js”, “.html”, etc… You know? We just write stuff and tell the puter it’s in “.{language}”, nothing fancy.

index.html

Basically the way you build his silly little face! Here’s the code:

<!doctype html> <html>     <head>         <meta charset="utf-8">         <title>Face!</title>         <link rel = "stylesheet" type = "text/css" href = "style.css">     </head>     <body>         <div class="area">             <div class="face">                 <div class="eyes">                     <div class="eyeR"></div>                     <div class="eyeL"></div>                 </div>                 <div class="mouth"></div>             </div>         </div>         <script src="face.js"></script>     </body> </html>

Ok so now some of you will be thinking “Why would you use eyeR and eyeL? Just use eye!“ and you’d be right but I’m a dummy who couldn’t handle making two different instances of the same object and altering it… It’s scary but if you can do it, please please please teach me ;0;!!!

Area comes in handy to the caress function we will implement in the next module (script)! It encapsulates face.

Face just contains the elements inside, trust me it made sense but i can’t remember why…

Eyes contains each different eye, probably here because I wanted to reuse code and it did not work out and when I kept going I was too scared to restructure it.

EyeR/EyeL are the eyes! We will paint them in the “.css”.

Mouth, like the eyeR/eyeL, will be used in the “.css”.

face.js

Here I will only show how to make it so he feels you mouse on top of him! Too ashamed of how I coded the kisses… Believe me, it’s not pretty at all and so sooo repetitive…

// ######################### // ##      CONSTANTS      ## // ######################### const area = document.querySelector('.area'); const face = document.querySelector('.face'); const mouth = document.querySelector('.mouth'); const eyeL = document.querySelector('.eyeL'); const eyeR = document.querySelector('.eyeR'); // ######################### // ##     CARESS HIM      ## // ######################### // When the mouse enters the area the face will follow the mouse area.addEventListener('mousemove', (event) => {     const rect = area.getBoundingClientRect();     const x = event.clientX - rect.left;     const y = event.clientY - rect.top;     face.style.left = `${x}px`;     face.style.top = `${y}px`; }); // When the mouse leaves the area the face will return to the original position area.addEventListener('mouseout', () => {     face.style.left = '50%';     face.style.top = '50%'; });

God bless my past self for explaining it so well, but tbf it’s really simple,,

style.css

body {     padding: 0;     margin: 0;     background: #c9c368;     overflow: hidden; } .area {     width: 55vh;     height: 55vh;     position: absolute;     top: 50%;     left: 50%;     transform: translate(-50%,-50%);     background: transparent;     display: flex; } .face {     width: 55vh;     height: 55vh;     position: absolute;     top: 50%;     left: 50%;     transform: translate(-50%,-50%);     background: transparent;     display: flex;     justify-content: center;     align-items: center;     transition: 0.5s ease-out; } .mouth {     width: 75vh;     height: 70vh;     position: absolute;     bottom: 5vh;     background: transparent;     border-radius: 100%;     border: 1vh solid #000;     border-color: transparent transparent black transparent;     pointer-events: none;     animation: mouth-sad 3s 420s  forwards step-end; } .face:hover .mouth {     animation: mouth-happy 0.5s forwards; } .eyes {     position: relative;     bottom: 27%;     display: flex;   } .eyes .eyeR {     position: relative;     width: 13vh;     height: 13vh;     display: block;     background: black;     margin-right: 11vh;     border-radius: 50%;     transition: 1s ease } .face:hover .eyeR {     transform: translateY(10vh);      border-radius: 20px 100% 20px 100%; } .eyes .eyeL {     position: relative;     width: 13vh;     height: 13vh;     display: block;     background: black;     margin-left: 11vh;     border-radius: 50%;     transition: 1s ease; } .face:hover .eyeL {     transform: translateY(10vh);     border-radius: 100% 20px 100% 20px; } @keyframes mouth-happy {     0% {         background-color: transparent;         height: 70vh;         width: 75vh;     }     100% {         border-radius: 0 0 25% 25%;         transform: translateY(-10vh);     } } @keyframes mouth-sad {     12.5%{         height: 35vh;         width: 67vh;     }     25% {         height: 10vh;         width: 60vh;     }     37.5% {         width: 53vh;         border-radius: 0%;         border-bottom-color: black;     }     50% {         width: 60vh;         height: 10vh;         transform: translateY(11vh);         border-radius: 100%;         border-color: black transparent transparent transparent;     }     62.5% {         width: 64vh;         height: 20vh;         transform: translateY(21vh);     }     75% {         width: 69vh;         height: 40vh;         transform: translateY(41vh);     }     87.5% {         width: 75vh;         height: 70vh;         transform: translateY(71vh);     }     100% {         width: 77vh;         height: 90vh;         border-color: black transparent transparent transparent;         transform: translateY(91vh);     } }

I didn’t show it but this also makes it so if you don’t pay attention to him he will get sad (mouth-sad, tried to make it as accurate to the movie as possible, that’s why it’s choppy!)

The .hover is what makes him go like a creature when you hover over him, if you want to change it just… Change it! If you’d rather him always have the same expression, delete it!

Anyway, lots of easy stuff, lots of code that I didn’t reuse and I probably should’ve (the eyes!!! Can someone please tell me a way I can just… Mirror the other or something…? There must be a way!!!) So now this is when we do a thinking exercise in which you think about me as like someone who is kind of dumb and take some pity on me.

LivelyInfo.json

{   "AppVersion": "1.0.0.0",   "Title": "Edgar",   "Thumbnail": "img/thumbnail.png",   "Preview": "thumbnail.png",   "Desc": "It's me!.",   "Author": "Champagne?",   "License": "",   "Type": 1,   "FileName": "index.html" }

Easy stuff!!! 

Conclusion

This could've been a project on git but i'm not ready and we're already finished. I'm curious about how this will be seen on mobile and PC,,, i'm not one to post here.

Sorry if I rambled too much or if i didn't explain something good enough! If you have any doubts please don't hesitate to ask.

And if you add any functionality to my code or see improvements please please please tell me, or make your own post!

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 3

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Series Masterlist

Melvania furrowed her eyebrows as there was a knock on her front door. She looked at the clock that hung on the wall just above the entryway to her kitchen and set her coffee mug down on the counter as she saw it was just after 7 am. 

“Josh?” She asked her baby brother as she opened the door, shocked to see him at her house so early. “What are you doing here?” 

“We need to talk.” He said gruffly. “Can I come in?” Mel nodded and opened the door wider for him to enter her home. 

“Is everything okay?” She asked as she followed him into the living room and sat down on the couch across from the chair he had sat in. 

“No, not really. It’s about yesterday. With Kiyana.” Mel scoffed and rolled her eyes. 

“I should have known.” She muttered, sitting back and folding her arms. “Lemme guess, princess couldn’t handle hearing the truth so she sent you here to set me straight?” She scoffed again. “She is a whore and I'm not apologizing for saying it Joshua.” 

“That’s the mother of my kids Mel, whether you like it or not, you will not say no shit like that again while my kids are around.Yes, Kiyana fucked Joe.” Josh paused and clenched his fist together, he was still having a hard time dealing with that. “But I had an affair first, aight. I fucked up my marriage not Kiyana.” Mel rolled her eyes at his little speech. 

“To be completely honest baby bro, I could care less. She hurt you and that’s all I care about.” 

“You don’t have to like her, I mean you never did. But what you will do is respect the mother of your nephews.” Josh said as he stood up from her couch and walked out of his sister's house without saying another word to her. 

Next stop, Kiyana’s house..

“Boys!” Kiyana yelled from the bottom of the steps. “What's taking so long!” She rolled her eyes as all she got back were giggles in response. She playfully glared over at Kairo when he started to giggle in his pack’n’play. “And what so funny?” She teased picking him up just as there was a knock on her front door.  

“Dada!” Kairo squealed, reaching his arms out for Joshua as Kiyana opened the door. 

“What are you doing here?” He handed her the flowers in his hand and took Kairo from here. “Who are these for?” She rolled her eyes at the look he gave her. 

“Who else would they be for? Open it.” She eyed the box warily and opened it, shocked to see it was red roses with the letter K in  white roses. “You like it?” 

Kiyana nodded, “Yes, thank you.” 

“You welcome ba-” He paused and stopped himself. “You’re welcome Kiyana. I’m sorry for letting Mel run her mouth yesterday and not stopping her.”  Kiyana said nothing and set the flowers down on the console table. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked again and Josh sighed. 

“I wanted to take my family to breakfast.” Kiyana nodded and bit her lip.

“Ok, The boys are already dressed. We were going out with my mom, but I guess they can go with you.” She walked into the living room and Josh followed her, shutting the front door behind him. 

“No, Key. Not just me and the boys, you too.”  Kiyana arched an eyebrow and shook her head. 

“No, that’s not a good idea. We’re div-” 

“Divorced, I know.” He cut her off. “You don’t gotta say that shit every time we see each other.” 

“We’re not family anymore Joshua. You and your family made that perfectly clear yesterday.” Josh set Kairo down in his pack n play and walked closer to Kiyana, who stepped back.  

“I’m sorry Key. I was in my feelings yesterday and I apologize. So please, can we take our sons to breakfast?” 

 To Samara 👯‍♀️: Need to get this nigga head checked out… From Samara 👯‍♀️: Who? Lol what happened To Samara 👯‍♀️: Joshua, he showed up this morning w/ flowers and apologizing for Mel.  From Samara 👯‍♀️: …. Girl  To Samara 👯‍♀️: And now we’re at breakfast bc he wanted to take his ‘family’ out.  To Samara 👯‍♀️: Oh and he played our song on the way to breakfast and kept looking at me out the corner of his eyes  From Samara 👯‍♀️: not beauty by dru hill, lmao too little to late josh smh

“Who you texting?” Josh asked and Kiyana furrowed her eyebrows. 

“Samara.” He nodded, surprised that she actually answered him. He took a sip of his orange juice and watched as she cut up Kaiden’s waffle for him. 

“Joe’s back in Pensacola.” He blurted out and Kiyana paused her cutting and looked up at him. 

“Okay..” She trailed off with a shrug. “Why are you telling me.?” Why in the hell is he bringing up Joe? She thought and then swallowed hard as she remembered the text message she received last night. 

“Cause we had a deal, Kiyana.” Kiyana tilted her head at Josh. She then looked at he kids and noticed that they were busy on their I-PADS (yes, they’re I-PAD kids… don’t judge her) 

“Josh, we're divorced. I can talk to whoever I want to.”  Josh scoffed and shook his head, 

“I don’t want him around my sons, Kiyana.” She sighed and rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on. 

“I do not and will not talk to him. Joshua. Me and Joe have nothing to talk about, okay?” She said, just to get him to shut the hell up. Pleased with her answer, Josh let out a sigh of relief and sent a smile her way. 

“Thank you” Kiyana didn’t say anything back to him, she just sighed and looked out the window, wishing she was anywhere but at that diner. 

A.N/ Kiyana will forever love Joshua, he was her first everything. She did file for divorce first but no matter what she will always be inlove with him.

🏷️ : @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @jeyusos-girl @bemybabiibish

@baconeggndcheez @purplehairgawdess @nbanenefrmdao @jstarr86

@melaninsugababy @theninthwonder @arination99 @harmshake @empressdede

@alyyaanna @m3llowww @jeysbae @badbitchcentralinc @raya-hunter01

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@reignsboy19 @abadbitchblogs @cyberdejos2 @saintaquarius @bebesobrielo

@scarlettnoir01 @alichesmi @xiamentshoneypot @hunnidmilly

[cprmtm123]

If anyone has this video or another good mtm vid, message me. Trade for my custom vid? Other vids im looking for below, any lora cross, tapered physics, Tessa fantasies, seductive studios, bbs medical files, opander mtm, defendnefetish, tweety, charlees adventures, or any custom or small creator.

[moon-ttokki-x]

relight me - skz x 9th member with ed!reader

pairing: ot8!skz x ed!reader

summary: when a once-strong light burns out, someone must relight it.

genre: idol! au, lots of comfort, angsty. mentions of ed, purging, skipping meals, throwing up, self-consciousness, hypervigilance, mentions of reader having a period (it doesn't happen dw) also . . . i'm well aware the title for reader in this one is a little bit primitive but that's the best way i could describe the fic mbmb

a/n: eat, eat, you EAT <3 div by @seulzitos

"Y/n, come and eat!"

You turn towards your opened bedroom door, looking with mild displeasure at Changbin. He can tell you're not pleased with the interruption.

Setting your pen down and rather fiercely slamming your laptop, you move to the door and attempt to push it shut, only to be blocked by Changbin's firm, solid frame.

"Move," you hiss at him. "Let me work."

He gazes at you coolly, his hair fluffy and messy, large black glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose.

"It's almost half past eight, Y/n. Eat any later than this and you'll feel sluggish in the morning. You've been shut up in your room for too long now. Please?"

You shake your head stubbornly. "Five more minutes."

Changbin actually laughs then. "You said that three hours ago. Take a break."

"No." Your feeble argument does nothing to persuade him. In reality, you'd just been biding your time in your room until everyone went to sleep so you wouldn't have to eat.

His gaze narrows. "I'm gonna tell Chan-hyung if you don't come and eat something. Please don't make me do that. You know how he gets."

You groan so loudly you think the entire dorm hears it. Storming back into your room, you messily reorganize a few papers before grudgingly following Changbin into the dorm kitchen. Your heart pounds harder with every step you take.

Stupid. You really thought no one would notice.

Entering the kitchen, you see most of the boys already seated. Jisung and Jeongin are busy fighting over a piece of fried chicken, Minho and Felix looking on in amusement. Seungmin is on his phone, minding his own business at the end of the table, and Han and Chan are discussing some 3RACHA schedule adjustments for the next week, eating in rather a civilised manner compared to the other members. Hyunjin comes out of the kitchen holding a couple of extra plates, and he sets them down just as Changbin pushes you gently towards the group.

You exhale and sit down next to Felix, who's busy digging his way through a container of noodles. There's been no time lately to cook since schedules have been so busy, and Chan finally gave in when the members pleaded to have takeout for the fifth time after dance practice.

Not you. You disappeared as soon as the practice session ended. You've been so isolated lately that it almost feels strange to be around the members, to watch their antics and listen to their bickering. And normally, being around them would fill you with energy and you would gladly join in, but something inside you tells you to hold back and be quiet. Keep your head down, eat as little as possible, repeat.

Again and again and again.

The thoughts hang heavy in your mind as you're handed a plate. Gulping, you spoon out the smallest possible portion that you can handle without the others noticing the size of it. It's barely half a plate.

"Y/nnie!" Hyunjin calls. "Aren't you gonna eat more? You've been working harder than old man Chan-hyung lately."

Chan lightly slaps the boy upside his head and detaches the piece of fried chicken from within Jeongin and Jisung's shared grip. He lightly chides them and their bickering stops momentarily, hunger taking over pettiness. For the time being, anyway.

Hyunjin has managed to draw everyone's attention to your plate and it's immediately filled with several more portions, the boys chiding you affectionately and heaping more food onto the ceramic. The sight of it makes you want to throw up, and you fight the sudden surge of anger rising in your chest. You want to throw the plate at Hyunjin's face.

But you don't, so you sit and seethe as the boys settle down to eat, munching through sides and conversing cheerily with each other. You feel none of the joy of sharing a good meal with friends; just a cold, dead numbness that makes you feel like a disconnected power plug compared to all the others. You watch them eat platefuls without blinking, without caring, and part of you wishes you could do the same, but it's too much to ask.

Besides, you think, looking down at your plate, it's for the better. Hunger will keep me sharp.

You bite your lip and take tiny, tiny mouthfuls of the food; barely even forkfuls while you try and make up an excuse to leave the table. You could pretend that something urgently needs working on; the new choreo, maybe? No... Minho will force you to sit and eat before you leave.

Or you could say you feel sick, but you don't have a temperature or any physical ailments, and you've been fine since this morning. Not really an option either.

You could also just sit and eat like a normal human being, but the last thing you want is a full stomach, or a stomach with anything in it. And you've already tried purging and it's too messy and loud, so that's out of the question too.

You think about putting on some theatrical display of feeling sick or overtired but you just don't have the energy. And if you get up and just leave, all of them will come and pester you. The last thing you want right now is to talk about it.

Felix nudges you lightly and you almost shoot him a glare, but you reign it in. It's Felix.

"You feeling, okay, Y/n?" He asks quietly, smiling. "You look a little pale."

You thank your stars, and Felix. He's just given you an opportunity to escape. You feign a slow, tired expression.

"Yeah," you say quietly. "I just- I feel a bit sick."

His expression changes to one of affectionate concern and he places a hand over your forehead. "You don't feel warm... maybe it's because you're working too much that you feel sick."

You groan inwardly just as Chan looks your way, checking up. He raises an eyebrow in mild concern and you wince a little, signalling that you want to leave. You feel confident for a minute that he'll let you leave, because he always says yes, understanding that the bickering and noise gets too much for you sometimes. But he just shakes his head and points to your plate, mouthing "Eat.".

He. Shakes. His. Head.

You almost gape and consider getting up anyway, but the prospect of him finding everything out is almost too much to bear. The thought of being exposed makes shame burn through your veins, though it hasn't even happened, and you begin to feel the familiar, heavy inferiority settle in your gut like a teary, reprimanded child.

There's one last, desperate resort.

"I'm going to the bathroom," you murmur to Felix. "I think I got my period."

He nods, and you hope that Chan doesn't call you out as you stand and begin to walk away, every nerve tense. Thankfully, he doesn't, and you make it to your bedroom without trouble, shutting the door heavily behind yourself.

You open the door to the bathroom and immediately step on the scale, just to check that nothing's added itself on. You exhale a sigh of relief at the sight of the numbers decreasing just slightly.

Phew.

You lock the bathroom door and sit on the cold tiles, waiting. You can kill time for a while and then pretend to fall asleep on your bed. No way the boys will tell you off when they find out you just happened to fall asleep due to your consistent early schedules.

You sigh and reach into one of the drawers, pulling out a pad. Ripping the item off of the patterned plastic, you fold the sticky tabs back in and tuck in back in the drawer. You throw the plastic in the bin, making sure to run the tap for a few seconds so it looks like you've put a pad on and washed your hands. Felix uses your bathroom sometimes too because Hyunjin takes so long in their shared one, so you have to keep up the guise of the sudden arrival of a period.

Sighing, you open the bathroom door and are met with Chan. Your heart drops out of your chest and flies out the window entirely.

"C-chan," you stutter feebly, pressing a hand to your chest. "You scared me."

"Sorry," he says quietly. "Felix told me you thought you got your period. Are you feeling okay?"

You nod. He has no idea about what's going on, and the thought makes you feel a sort of twisted pride at the realisation.

"Do you need anything?" he asks. Ever the leader.

You shake your head, risking the next sentence. "I'm gonna lie down for a while, though..."

"Do you want me to bring you something to eat?"

You think before responding, the thoughts flashing through your head quick as lightning. If you say yes, he'll being food and expect the plate to be finished when he comes to collect it from your room. If you say no, he'll get suspicious.

"Yes, please," you say weakly, even though the mere thought of ingesting something makes you want to throw up.

Chan nods and you lie down on the bed, fighting the urge to just spill everything to him. But you can't, so you stay quiet and watch as Chan brings your plate from the table and sets it gently on the bedside.

You expect him to leave, but he doesn't. He sits down on the end of the bed, and your nerves begin to fray a little, feeling irritated that he won't just leave you alone.

If that wasn't enough, you suddenly notice that the faint noises from the members in the kitchen are gone, replaced with a dull, eerie silence. You feel a bit sick until you spot familiar faces lingering near the doorway of your room, their silhouettes visible against the frame of light spilling from the hallway.

"Y/n," Chan says quietly. A cold dread sits in your stomach, chilling you to the stomach. You know exactly what's coming.

"I'm sorry," you blurt out before he can continue.

Chan doesn't even look surprised, and he runs a hand through his hair just as Changbin moves into the room, sitting on the bed next to him. He places a hand on your thigh.

A sinking feeling takes hold of your gut.

They already knew.

Chan starts to talk. "Y/nnie, we know what's been going on. You're not in trouble, okay?"

You groan. "Well, now I feel like I am."

Changbin can't help but chuckle a little, though it's quieter than his usual laugh. "We didn't stop you to begin with because we didn't want you to feel like we were keeping tabs on you."

"And we thought it was something you could handle on your own," Chan adds quietly. "It was wrong of us to stand by and let you do this to yourself."

"We're sorry, Y/n," Hyunjin adds from the doorway. "We thought we were helping by forcing you to eat, but clearly not. And I'm sorry for drawing attention to how much you were eating earlier."

A hot tear spills over the brim and burns a line down the soft skin on your cheek. "Why are you all apologising? I shouldn't have done it, I just felt so low and I couldn't bring myself to eat, and-"

This time it's Jeongin who moves to sit next to you on the bed, and he coos at you lightly, quieting you. "It's okay, Y/n. Most of us know how that feels. But the thing is, you don't have to lie to us. We'll never say anything judgmental to you about it."

You nod tearfully and let Chan stroke your hair lightly, the warmth helping to soothe the storm inside your head.

"Would it help if you could eat alone?" He says quietly. "When most of us were trainees, we weren't used to eating so much in front of others, so most of us ate separately from each other until we felt more confident. Would that help?"

You nod.

"Besides, if you do that," Changbin adds jokingly, "One day, you'll be able to stuff your face like we do."

For the first time in you don't know how long, an involuntary laugh bubbles out of your chest, quite unexpectedly, and for the first time, it feels right.

a/n: no one is allowed to cry on this 9th member fic like last time

[the-most-humble-blog]

<!-- BEGIN TRANSMISSION -->

<div style="white-space:pre-wrap">

<meta aggression-code="silent escalation">

<script>ARCHIVE_TAG="REAL_WORLD_RETRIBUTION_PROTOCOL_001"</script>

🩸 **IN A RELATIONSHIP BUT WANT TO GET IN A MAN’S FACE?**

Cool.

Just know—

**You might’ve handed your partner a death sentence.**

But you already knew that, didn’t you?

Miss “I Speak My Mind.”

Miss “I Don’t Need a Man to Defend Me.”

Miss ***‘You Go Girl.’***

---

Because the moment you square up,

step forward,

and start mouthing off in public like you’ve got plot armor—

you’ve ***activated*** the unspoken law:

> *“Whatever happens next is HIS responsibility.”*

Not yours.

**His.**

---

When things get loud,

when tempers snap,

when wolves appear—

it’s not *you* they’re watching.

It’s **him.**

You brought the gasoline,

but ***he’s the one who gets set on fire.***

---

You see, ***men like me?***

**Real ones?**

We don’t hold YOU accountable.

We know better.

You’re emotional.

Impulsive.

You’re lightning with lips.

But ***he*** chose you.

***He*** let you get that loud.

***He*** didn’t intervene soon enough.

So if you try that sh*t near a real wolf?

You don’t get checked.

***He does.***

With fists.

With consequences.

With 10x the fury your mouth tried to summon.

---

This isn’t macho posturing.

This is **reality.**

Ask any man who’s been in the wild—

**not a bar fight,

not a Twitter thread,

but a ***real*** moment

where lives shift with a look.**

Where ***blood debt*** exists.

Where ***posture = permission.***

Where ***tone = trigger.***

Where one wrong step from YOU

gets ***HIM*** folded and buried

before he can even say your name.

---

**That’s the real world.**

Not your brunch table.

Not your podcast fantasy.

Not your girls gassing you up on TikTok.

The world of men is built on ***silent escalation.***

And you,

**Miss Loud-and-Wrong,**

just made your man a ***target.***

Because someone has to pay for your mouth.

And **we don’t touch women.**

We hold the ***sentinel*** responsible.

---

So next time you decide to “speak up,”

to “defend yourself,”

to “put a man in his place”

with ***your man standing right there?***

Just know—

**You put his life on the table.**

You invited consequences ***you’ll never suffer.***

You just might go viral for yelling.

***He might go to jail.

Or the hospital.

Or the f*cking morgue.***

But you go girl.

Get your power back.

Be bold.

Be seen.

Just don’t pretend **you didn’t know the cost.**

Because now?

**He’s gotta pay it.**

---

📦 This post will enter the vault shortly.

Too raw.

Too real.

Too *dangerous* for curated feeds and manufactured equality.

The ***unspoken male codes*** are never written down—

But they’re ***enforced violently.***

You want more of this truth?

You know where it’s going.

</div>

<!-- END TRANSMISSION [AUTO-WIPE IN: 00:06:66] -->

[nebulousbrainsoup]

Raise a Little Hell

SUMMARY: It's your first Halloween with Joshua and his friends, and you're more than excited to win their famous costume contest. Just when you think you're bound for the trophy, the secret your boyfriend has been keeping dashes your hopes. PAIRING: Incubus!Joshua Hong x afab!reader GENRE: fluff, suggestive, crack AU/TROPE: demon au, halloween party WORD COUNT: 2.4k WARNINGS: implied alcohol use, not beta read RATING: PG A/N: AHHHHH HE'S FINALLY HERE!! I wanted to post this on Halloween, but alas. It was not finished. This is my contribution to my Evil Twins Halloween collab with @justhere4kpop, who also made me this really pretty banner so we could twin!! Go check out their companion fic, "Oh, Nurse!!" featuring Jeonghan here. There will be two more installments to this universe; Fall from Grace, the smut scene I omitted from this one, and Silk & Spice, a filthy prequel featuring both of the evil twins in all their demonic glory. divs, as usual, from the lovely @cafekitsune masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

“You’re leaving in thirty minutes and you’re not even dressed yet.”

Joshua chuckled quietly, smoothing invisible wrinkles in his jacket before meeting Jeonghan’s gaze in the mirror. “I am dressed, actually. I’m a devil.” He smirked, letting his eyes settle into their natural red.

“Every day of your miserable, eternal existence, sure,” the elder hummed, shoving his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat. He’d gone as a doctor for reasons none of the boys could comprehend, and he was judging Joshua?

“It’s not like you didn’t take most of your costume out of your closet, too,” Joshua sighed, turning to level his brother-in-arms with a playful glare. “And I think I look dashing, thank you very much.”

“Look dashing another night. I thought you wanted to win the costume contest, and you’re not going to do that without a costume.” Sighing, the younger shoved his hands in his pockets, watching the gears turn in Jeonghan’s head. He blinked hard when they clicked together, huffing a disbelieving laugh. “You’re serious.”

“Yes, I’m serious! Y/N wanted to do a couples costume, an angel and a devil, and… I figured, as cliche as it is, it might make telling them easier.” His gaze flickered down as he gnawed at his lip, wincing as his fang pierced the inside of it. “This way they can see I’m not lying.”

His friend flashed him a wary look, but nodded. “Be careful. You know the rules.”

Joshua’s expression steeled and he gave a single, curt nod. “She’ll know before she enters the house.”

A knock at the door of your apartment startled you, and you cursed quietly as you glimpsed the time. You knew you had been running late today, but you hadn’t realized just how late. Now, here you were, makeup only half applied and your dear, sweet boyfriend waiting patiently in the hall. Setting down your brush, you hurried to the door, giving Joshua a sheepish smile as you peered around it. 

“I’m not quite ready yet, but—” you began, tongue twisting into knots as you caught the heated stare Joshua was giving you. His eyes raked over the near indecent dress hugging your figure, lingering on the curve of your cleavage and appreciating the innocent, glowy look your half-done makeup provided. He ran his tongue over his teeth hungrily as his ruby gaze fixed on your own, stepping into the space properly.

“That’s fine, I think they can wait on us,” he purred, crowding into your space to place his hands on your hips. You could have sworn, between the lust in his gaze and the abnormal red of his irises, that his eyes glowed. “Just for a little bit. I don’t mind missing the costume contest if you don’t.”

You breathed a laugh, reaching up to cup his cheek as you rolled your lip between your teeth. “I think you put too much work into this for us to miss it, honestly,” you hummed, stepping out of his embrace to drink him in. He started to protest, his grip tightening on your hips, but you gave him a firm shove back, humming appreciatively. “When did you have time to do all of this?” you questioned, reaching up for the horns perched atop his head.

Much to your surprise, he ducked away from your touch, gently catching your wrist as a flush color his cheeks. “I, uh… A couple of late nights, y’know?”

You frowned for only a moment before movement caught your eye, and Joshua cursed internally as you zeroed in on the tail behind him. Your furrowed brows shot up to your hairline, a grin taking over your features as you squealed in delight. Every spare shred of his attention went toward keeping the accursed appendage from twitching as you shuffled around him and cupped it in your palms. He sank his fangs into his bottom lip as your fingers wandered over it, tracing down the red gradient to the rounded little spade and back up to where it began to match his skin, finally disappearing under his clothes. By the time you pulled back, he had drawn blood, but he forced a smile onto his lips. 

“Shua!” You beamed, and his heart swelled as you jumped up to wrap your arms around his neck. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around your middle, tucking his nose into your hair to breathe you in. “I know you weren’t too excited about this,” you muttered, “but thank you for taking it seriously for me. I can’t imagine how long this all took.” 

“Years,” he huffed, chuckling at his own joke. If only you knew.

You stepped back to look at him once more, giggling with him. “I’m sure it felt like it. Now come on, I have to finish my makeup and we have to get there so we can win this thing and beat Jeonghan!” 

He opened his mouth to stop you, but before he could, you dashed off toward your bedroom. Joshua sighed. He’d tell you on the way—he knew better than to interrupt your makeup time.

In general, Joshua Hong was one of the most laid-back people you’d met. He stressed himself out as much as any other college-aged guy, but that was insight only you and his closest friends held. He was an expert at keeping his emotions to himself, sometimes keeping even you from knowing how he felt. It made the way he was positively radiating nervous energy that much more noticeable. His fingers tapped out an absent-minded rhythm against the steering wheel, one small muscle in his jaw twitching as his eyes scanned the road, seemingly avoiding you. You frowned, picking at the feathers on the wings laying in your lap. 

“Shua?” you called into the silence, and you swore you saw him jump, the tail twitching with the movement. He hummed acknowledgement, eyes still locked onto the road as you turned into a neighborhood. “Are you okay? You seem… Tense.” 

“No, baby, I’m fine,” he replied quickly, the smile he flashed you not quite reaching his eyes. 

You frowned, your own gaze shifting to the streets rolling by. “If you don’t want to tell me what it is, that’s okay, but don’t tell me you’re fine when you’re clearly not, Joshua,” you snapped. 

Once again, he startled, bile rising in his throat. Heaving a sigh, he pulled up to the curb in front of his friends’ house. “It’s not that simple, baby.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you moved to get out of the car. “I know you’re anxious about me meeting your friends, or whatever, but this is so unlike you. If you were this worried about it, you didn’t have to—”

“Y/N,” he sighed, running a hand over his face while the other reached for you, grabbing your wrist and successfully halting your escape. “It’s… I have to tell you something, before we go in. And it’s kind of both life and relationship changing, so… Forgive me for being nervous.” 

His gaze dropped to his lap, hands fiddling with the hem of his jacket as you settled back in your seat, eyes fixed on him. The look on his face made your heart ache, anxiety creasing his brow as he gnawed at his lip. Reaching a hand out, you settled it on his thigh. And this time, when the tail behind him twitched with your touch, your heart jumped into your throat. 

Your boyfriend seemed to realize immediately, wide eyes darting over his shoulder to where you were staring. His heart was pounding a mile a minute in his chest, throat tight with anxiety as seconds stretched like hours, and when the words finally left him, it was all at once.

“I’mademon.”

You blinked, slowly, pulling your hand back and tilting your head curiously. “I’m sorry… Slower?”

“I’m… I’m a demon. Like, from hell. The costume isn’t actually a costume. It’s just… Me.” He continued to avoid your gaze, tail flickering anxiously behind him. “I thought that the whole angel-devil thing would make it easier to tell you, because you can see that it’s all attached, but then you got all excited about me taking this seriously and that on top of the fact that ‘we’re demons’ is a lot to handle, I… It just made me more anxious.”

You blinked, processing his words silently. He was practically writhing in his seat, and if this weren’t his car, you’d be afraid he would bolt. Hell, maybe he still would. 

Your brow furrowed as you mulled over his words. “Wait. We?”

Much to your surprise, he chuckled, and you watched the tension drain from his shoulders. “I tell you I’m a demon, and the we in that rambling is what you latch onto?”

“I mean… You’re still my Joshie, right?” you murmured, once again tugging at the pile of feathers in your lap. “You’re not going out and killing people or stealing their souls at night or stealing children, are you?”

Joshua laughed, reaching across to still your nervous hands. “No, baby, nothing like that. I’m still the same old Joshua I’ve always been. The only thing that changes is my appearance.”

“Okay,” you nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “Then this changes nothing. Except, now, you can be yourself around me.” 

He grinned, eyes creasing into crescents as he pulled your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I love you, angel.”

His preferred nickname for you always sent heat rushing through your veins, but with this added context, it was all you could do to suppress a shudder as warmth pooled in your belly. “I love you too, Shua.” 

“I, uh… There’s a reason I told you tonight. We… kind of have our Halloween parties in Hell.”

“Look at you, Y/N!” Seungkwan beamed as he greeted you, pulling you in for a quick hug. You giggled as he pulled back, spinning slowly to give your friend a full view of your angel costume, fluffy wings now looped over your shoulders. “Cute.” His eyes flicked to Joshua, giving him an unimpressed but amused look. “Angel and devil, hm? Very original. You could’ve put some effort in, hyung.”

Your boyfriend huffed a sigh as he slid in next to you, rolling his eyes slightly at the teasing. “I’ll have you know, this costume took me years to put together,” he hummed, reaching up to run a hand over his horns. 

Seungkwan rolled his eyes heartily in return, pausing to take a long sip from his cup. “Bad joke.”

You pouted, crossing your arms. “You better be the only one to think that. I wanna win this famous costume contest!”

“Good luck with that,” he cooed, patting your hair underneath your halo, “rookies aren’t known to win. Jun and Minghao are in it to win it this year too, and there’s only so much Shua-hyung’s pretty face and your cute self can do when those two are determined.”

You frowned, shifting closer into Joshua’s side. He smiled down at you, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “You never know, Kwan,” he hummed. “It’s kind of a toss up, sometimes. I mean, Soonyoung won last year.” 

He huffed a sigh and rolled his eyes, and you and your boyfriend shared an amused glance at his annoyance. “That was a fluke,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “And entirely Jeonghan’s fault. I will not be convinced otherwise.”

Joshua laughed quietly, nodding. “Okay, yeah. I’ll give you that. I really think we have a chance this year, though. Couples' costumes always do better, and we’ve made a joke.”

Glancing at his watch, the younger man grinned. “You’ll find out soon, hyung. It’s time to get started.”

Joshua had warned you, briefly, about how seriously he and his friends took their yearly costume contest, but it didn’t fully sink in until each party goer was parading in front of you, dressed to the nines. It became clear, as you and your boyfriend walked the dancefloor-turned-runway that few of his friends were impressed by his display, not too far off from his daily look. It was only when he stopped, gesturing back toward you with a flourish, that the crowd erupted into cheers. Flushed and giggling, you took the hand he offered and quickly disappeared back into the crowd. 

“So?” he asked, tugging you back against his chest as he leaned against the wall. “Think we’ll win?”

Laughing softly, you shook your head. “Not a chance. I mean, look at Jun and Minghao. And honestly, Wonwoo and his partner as black cats are pretty cute, too.”

To your surprise, your boyfriend snorted, and you could hear in his voice the way he rolled his eyes. “Please. He can literally turn into a cat. He could’ve done what I did instead of buying cheap ass ears!”

You blinked, gears turning in your head for a moment as you recalled your conversation in the car. “Wait. When you said we, you meant—”

“Oh, yeah, all of the guys. Wonwoo can turn into a cat, Seungkwan and Dokyeom are kind of siren-esque…” he explained, eyes glancing over the room. 

You frowned, looking up at your boyfriend. “What are you, then?” 

He smirked, fangs flashing dangerously for a moment before your attention was pulled to Soonyoung, shouting over the din, “Time for the voting and rankings!”

You felt more than you saw Joshua’s smile as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “I guess it remains a mystery.”

“Next year, you have to actually try,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. It took all of Joshua’s willpower not to laugh, following your glare to where Minghao held his trophy. “Tell me we at least beat Jeonghan.” The apologetic look he gave you spoke volumes, and you groaned. 

“I’m sorry, angel. I promise, he’d be insufferable if we won,” he hummed, wrapping his arms around your waist. A shudder lit down your spine at the sudden proximity, coupled with his warm breath next to your ear. “I can think of a few ways to make it up to you, though.” Pressing his lips to your pulse, he held you tighter when you jumped at the foreign feeling of his tail winding around your bare thigh. 

You hummed, pleased as you melted back into his arms. He was intoxicating, taking over your senses when he got you like this, making you putty in his hands. “Can you? I don’t know if I believe you.”

“You should, sweetheart,” he purred, fingers dancing over your sides. “Unless you don’t want me to show you what kind of hell an incubus can raise.”

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© November 2023 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my work.

[gynandromorph]

"it's so easy to make your own comic website" no the fuck it isn't. Here's a few stupid fucking features I NEEDED for my website to do what I consider the bare minimum which was a nightmare to figure out:

Drop-down menu to select different comic titles AND PAGES WITHIN THOSE TITLES. Let's toss out the second part and say it'll only show the pages for the comic currently being targeted, the issue is virtually identical. You need a dynamic drop-down if you have more than one large comic

Jumping 20 pages ahead or back, somehow this was a big issue, you STILL NEED A WAY TO NAVIGATE comics with DOZENS AND DOZENS OF PAGES

Having a page move forward/back with the arrow keys on a keyboard

Having a terminal page, so for example, you're on page 1, you try to go back 1 page — code that makes your website not shit itself if someone tries to do that. You probably need an error landing page, too.

a "jump to page number" text field

A backend way to categorize different stories, the backend issues were such a shit show for me

A comments section, oh my god the comments section. So you need a text field that allows someone to type a message, press a button, and then it creates a new div with their message. You will need to include in this code a way to prevent someone from just straight up injecting their own code through the text field btw. But people won't be able to refer to each other without some kind of name. So you need another text field where someone can enter their name, OR build a login system and the complications the latter brings are batshit. You also need an easy way to delete comments yourself, either by holding them until approved or by having a delete button or both. You need a way to prevent bot spam too btw. I cannot stress enough how big a deal the comment section is for readers and how stupid difficult it is to make one functional

Oh, you wanted to leave patreon? You wanted a way to make money off your webcomic? Welcome to the issue of data security, because you are now handling people's financial info. A PayPal button won't track subscription payments for you. You want to track if somebody's paid, you have to code that too. Also you now DEFINITELY need a login system, a way to secure passwords stored on the site, etc.

It fucking sucks, there are legitimate reasons most people look for hosting instead of building their own site, there are reasons people get paid REALLY WELL to make websites as a job, and, frankly, it's just totally unhinged to throw the expectation of website management and coding on top of an already brutal pile of skills and work schedule needed to make a successful webcomic.