#finally!! i am actually conscious enough to be excited

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 KNOW IT'S FOR THE BETTER (ALL I WANTED WAS YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: he can't stop himself from calling; you can't stop yourself from answering. he never speaks, but he doesn't have to—just knowing he's there is enough to lure you in. that's how it remains for weeks. that is until you mention that you're going on a risky mission and dazai has to to make an equally risky decision to keep you safe.

(wordcount: 3.1k; fem!reader, pm!reader, post-defection, angsty but not awfully so (again, sorry, i swear there's happier ones coming), implied alcoholism, dazai gets a bit jealous, ango cameo)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: OKAYYYYYY this was actually my first pm!reader and pmzai fic, believe it or not, it's been in my notes app for ages. i tried to fix most of the inconsistencies. as always, can be read as a standalone butttt for the people following the pm!reader universe, this comes directly after death by a thousand cuts! i hope you guys enjoy!! im actually rlly excited to finally get this fic out here!

He calls you sometimes.

Well, you don’t know for sure it’s him—he never speaks, if you’re lucky sometimes you can hear soft puffs of air from the other line, and the number is always unknown, but you know in your heart that it’s him. 

The first call came three days after you found him drunk in an alley—seven months after his defection. 

The unknown caller ID popped up on your phone while you were drinking with Chuuya in his apartment, trying to forget all about Dazai Osamu and all of the pain he’s brought you. You answered it irritably and when you got no response from the caller, you promptly told them to fuck off and die if they’re going to waste your time with prank calls. You expected them to hang up right away but they didn’t—in fact, they only hung up when they heard Chuuya shouting for you to get off the phone so he can open another bottle of wine, as if he wasn’t going to anyway. 

The next call came another three days after that. 

You were in a meeting with Mori when the unknown caller popped back up on your phone screen. You excused yourself to answer the phone only because you were desperate for a reason to get out of the meeting—you think that he might’ve somehow sniffed out that you ran into Dazai and if he outright asked you, you didn’t know if you’d be able to lie without him catching you in it. 

Regardless of the reasoning, you were even more pissed off than you were the first time when you heard the silence on the other end, accusing them of fucking with you and demanding to know how they got your number—again, the person didn’t say anything, and you hung up even more irate than you were the first time. 

It takes three more calls for you to put the pieces together—it’s a bit embarrassing how long it took you, but in your defense, you were trying to put Dazai Osamu as far from your mind as possible. Honestly, you weren’t even sure of it when you first guessed his name. It’s a shot in the dark when you answer the unknown caller for the fifth time and whisper, “Dazai?” so very hesitantly. Your confirmation comes in the form of a sharp inhale on the other line before it instantly goes dead. 

He doesn’t call again for two weeks, and when he finally does, it’s in the middle of the night. The buzzing of the phone woke you up, your alarm clock glowing a bright 3:15 am. You don’t even look at the caller—you figure it’s Chuuya, who has yet to return from his mission in Sendai—as you answer with a groggy “what?” 

You get no response besides the sound of a shaky breath on the other end and suddenly you’re wide awake as you realize who exactly called. He doesn’t speak, even as you make yourself sick with anger—he’s conscious and coherent this time, unlike the time you ran into him in the alley, so you take the opportunity to unleash all of the pent up rage and hurt that you’d withheld that night. You cry for the first time since he defected and he stays on the line the whole time, until you eventually exhaust yourself and fall asleep. When you wake up in the morning, he’s hung up, but the call time reads four and a half hours. 

It becomes a weekly occurrence—occasionally biweekly. 

Sometimes, you tell him about your day, rambling on about how you were irritated because Mori made you deal with Ace or complaining about recent territory issues that the Port Mafia has been facing—something that you probably shouldn’t be sharing on an unsecure line with someone who defected from the mafia, but you can never bring yourself to fully care because it’s Dazai. 

Other times, you just lay in bed quietly, exhausted after a full day of work, the phone resting next to your ear as doze off to the comforting sound of his steady breathing. 

You don’t tell anyone. 

If anyone knew you’re keeping in contact with a traitor, you’d be executed. You think that Chuuya might know—the two of you now share the penthouse of the westernmost skyscraper of the five buildings of the Port Mafia’s base and you know he’s smart enough to have put together who you’re talking to late at night. But if he does, he doesn’t say anything, because he too knows what the consequences of your actions would be if it were true.

You let out a soft puff of air as your phone begins buzzing—it’s well past midnight and you’re half asleep, but you roll over and pick up the phone with heavy eyes.

“Hey,” you whisper.

Dazai doesn’t respond, he never does, but you can hear him breathing on the other line, closer to the speaker than he usually is. You can’t help but notice that his breath is heavier than usual too, a bit shakier. 

He’s been drinking, you realize. You figured that he usually drinks on the nights that he calls you, but he never lets himself close enough to the speaker for you to figure out if it’s true. You just hope it’s not as bad as….

“I won’t be able to answer for a while after this,” you say quietly after a few moments, rolling over in bed to shift your face closer to the phone. “Mori assigned me another mission. An infiltration one—first one since you’ve been gone.”

Dazai would know the implications of that, and from the way he inhales sharply at your words, you know he does instantly, even in his drunken state. 

Whenever you were sent on infiltration missions, Dazai was always the one in your ear, making sure that you got in and out safely. You refused to take infiltration missions unless Dazai and his freakish prophetic ability was the one on comms for you because you knew he’d be able to figure out if you’ve been compromised before the enemy have even figured it out for themselves. 

But you had known it was only a matter of time before Mori put you back on them. You’re the best suited in the Port Mafia for them and the recent issues with that gang that’s been moving into the northern wards from Asakusa all but demands interference from the inside lest you guys will be dealing with another major gang war and the city can’t handle that. 

“I’m nervous,” you admit for the first time, voice little over a whisper. “I don’t trust anyone but you to be my eyes and ears. Plus this mafia is... They're very violent. Kawabata leads it. I faced off against him in Osaka before he moved into Tokyo, back when I was still in Kyoto. It's... risky. It's been years but I'm worried he'll recognize me. I don't know why Mori is insisting on me being the one to go in.”

You swear you hear Dazai take in another breath, as if he was about to say something this time, but he doesn’t. Your throat feels swollen and your eyes feel misty, jaw tight. Not for the first time, you miss Dazai. You miss him so desperately that you swear your chest caves in at the thought of him. 

You want to hate him but you know you can’t. You've come to accept that already. But you think you still might like to pretend you can.

You told yourself after you ran into him that night that you’d push him from mind, you’d forget about him. You knew that one day you’d meet him again—you and Dazai Osamu have been entwined since the day you met, fate has a lot left in store for the two of you for things to just so abruptly end—but until that day, you have to focus on what matters. And what matters is the Port Mafia.

But how are you supposed to forget him when he can’t even bring himself to fully leave you behind? You think it’s cruel of him, and you think that you should ignore his calls until he finally gives up, but you can’t bring yourself to because no matter how much you preach about forgetting him, if the choice of keeping contact with him arises, you’ll always choose it.

“I miss you,” you breathe out, voice cracking over your words. “I miss you so much that it hurts, Dazai. i-“

The line goes dead. 

The words on your lips die as soon as you realize he hung up, heart sinking. You sigh as you stare up at the ceiling before curling over onto your side, hoping to at least get a little sleep before your early wake up call for mission prep. 

But it’s a naive hope—you know that you’ll never sleep tonight, not with thoughts of Dazai Osamu racing through your mind. 

Dazai shouldn’t be doing this. 

His knuckles are white as he sits at a row of monitors in a locked down ex-government facility. On each of the screens are different vantage points of the main base of the Scarlet Gang, the mafia that had been run out of the Asakusa ward of Tokyo by the Sun and Steel and is now challenging the Port Mafia. 

Ango is pacing somewhere behind him, expression tight and arms crossed against his chest. Dazai knows that he’s livid over this, but Dazai also does not care because he doesn’t think that Ango has a right to be livid about anything that Dazai does anymore. 

He’s been here for three days already. His knees are tucked to his chest as he sits on the spinning chair, bags heavy beneath his eyes and hair matted and oily after days of sitting in front of the screen without budging an inch. He doesn’t dare take his eyes off the screen—not when your life is on the line, and especially not when he’s not even on a direct comms line with you. All he has is a burner cell and hope that you at least take a look at your phone if he has to send a text.

If this mission is like every other infiltration mission you’ve been sent on, it’ll be another two days before your planned extraction—and if you have the same luck you always do, the mission will go smoothly. But Dazai has a dark feeling in his gut, and he isn’t quite sure if it’s because he has no control over the mission or if something bad really is going to happen, there have already been some suspicious signs and he doesn't trust Mori. Your whole comment about his insistence on you going keeps scratching the back of his head like he's missing something, because there's no way Mori would ever risk losing your ability, especially to Kawabata. The man is always scheming, and Dazai is certain there's one simmering below the facade of this mission but he just can't figure out what. Either way, he knows he can't risk stepping away for even a moment. 

“I thought you were done with this, Dazai.” Ango finally has the nerve to voice what dazai knows he’s been itching to say for three days. “I thought-“

“Maybe you should stop thinking,” Dazai says dryly, his head hurts and sweat is beading beneath his arms. Three days without drinking is affecting him way more than he thought it would, but he can’t afford to be inebriated for this.

“Dazai-“ Ango begins.

“I’m not doing this for the Port Mafia,” Dazai cuts him off, dark eyes dragging across the screen to where he sees you laughing with one of the members of the Scarlet Gang, leaning in close with a teasing smile. 

You’re beautiful. Stunning. He can’t blame the way the man you’re talking to seems to gravitate closer to you, enamored by the sound of your voice and the way your eyes glitter beneath the room’s chandelier, but he still wishes he could put a bullet through his head. 

He hasn’t seen you since the day before he left—well, he doesn’t remember seeing you since then, at least. He has some suspicions regarding the part of his ear that mysteriously went missing the night he woke up in one of your shared safehouses, but this is his first time really seeing you and it makes his chest feel sick and heavy to know you’re so out of reach and by his own doing, nonetheless.

His eyes narrow as he watches the man reach out to brush his fingers against your arm. His lips twist down even more when his gaze tracks down to your lips—this is always his least favorite part of being on comms for your infiltration missions. 

“You won’t be able to oversee all of her infiltration missions anymore, Dazai,” Ango says, voice a bit more gentle and Dazai has a distinct urge to rip out the man’s vocal cords. “Once I get your records clear and you’ve joined up with the Agency, you’re going to have to leave this all behind for good. All of it.”

Dazai doesn’t respond. His lips press together tight as Ango’s words register. He knows that he’s right, that if he wants to honor Odasaku’s final wishes, then he has to leave everything behind—even you—but he can hardly even bear the thought of it. Never seeing you again, never hearing your voice again, he thinks that a life without you is not a life worth living. 

He thought that he’d be able to do it, that he’d be able to cut you off just like everyone else, but it only took one drunken night at a bar when he stared at old pictures of you for a bit too long for him to give in to the aching feeling in his chest, the desperate need to at least hear your voice one last time. 

Except one last time turned into another and another; as much as Dazai Osamu likes to pretend to be strong, he’s always been weak at heart for you. From he moment he met you three years earlier during the Dragon’s Head Conflict—sent with Chuuya by Mori to retrieve you after finding out the squad sent to escort you back had been decimated by an ability user—he’s known that he was out of his depth when it comes to you. 

He was already curious to begin with, Mori doesn’t speak highly of anyone but he did speak highly of you, and at first Dazai assumed it was just because you were a girl, and a young one at that. Everyone knows Mori’s gross fascination with them. But when they found you mid-conflict with an ability user, trying to hold your own with only a gun and some rubble as shields to defend yourself from sweltering flames, he realized that maybe there was more that meets the eye to you. 

You’re beautiful—god, he can never stress it enough, words don’t do you justice. Wicked smart. Can talk your way into and out of any situation. Have a bounty on your head high enough to rival his own. From the day he met you, Dazai knew you were everything he’s ever wanted. And yeah, maybe it took him too long to come to terms with that, but it doesn’t make the feelings any less powerful.

Sometimes, when he drinks just a bit too much and he finds himself staring at old pictures of the two of you that he’d taken, he wonders if you would have come with him if he told you what he was doing. He wonders if maybe he hadn’t been a coward, you would be with him right now instead of risking your life on an infiltration mission with some incompetent moron on comms instead of him. He wonders if maybe he would have kissed you on that same bridge he tried to kill himself during that first week he spent drunk and alone. 

He doubts it. In his heart, he’s pretty sure you’d always choose the Mafia over him, but it’s nice to pretend sometimes.

“I don’t care” Dazai finally says, his voice rougher than he intended as he gives Ango a cold look from the corner of his eye. “I won’t let her die on a bullshit mission because some clown is on comms for her.” 

Ango doesn’t get a chance to respond again because Dazai’s eyes are drawn back to the monitors, where a conversation is taking place on the far side of the room. A conversation that has them looking in your direction a bit too often for his liking.

Dazai inhales, rising to his feet, shoulders and arms tensing as his eyes trace the screen, trying to figure out if he should send you a warning. If he’s wrong, it’ll have completely blown your mission and it would put you at risk if Mori or any of the other executives start questioning you as to why you abandoned the mission for no reason.

But if he’s right… 

Dazai is good at many things, and he’s always been quick to be the one on comms with you because he, better than anyone else in the mafia, is good at reading and predicting enemy moves. He always knows in his gut what’s about to happen, you would sometimes joke that it was his real ability, some form of foresight and you would be less joking when you nudge his shoulder and tell him that you’re glad you have his ‘freaky prophetic ability’ otherwise you’d have been dead a long time ago.

Dazai grits his teeth. He feels Ango approaching him from behind but ignores him, mind racing as he tries to calculate the best course of action.

Finally, he takes the burner phone and shoots you a short message: compromised. 

And then he waits. 

The longest and most tense minute of his life passes as he watches you on the screen, waiting to see if you’ll even bother to check your phone. He doesn’t think that he’ll be able to stay in the room if it turns out you are compromised and stuck in enemy territory—he’d feel helpless, unable to do anything but watch and pray to a god he barely believes in that you get out okay. 

Come on, he thinks to himself as one of the men begins making his way in your direction, nails digging into his palms so deeply that blood began to flow from the crescents. Come on, check your phone. 

And then you do. 

He lets out a shaky breath of relief when he sees you pull out your phone, eyes tracing the message on your screen rapidly. A flurry of emotions rocket across your face, and for a moment, Dazai thinks that you’re about to cry.

But then you smile again, leaning in and clasping the man’s hand and leaning in to brush your lips against his cheek before making your way out of the room. He doesn’t dare look away until you’ve slipped out of sight from the cameras littered throughout the building and out of danger. 

Without another word, Dazai turns to leave the old facility.

“Dazai,” Ango calls after him.

Dazai ignores him, snapping the burner phone. You’re safe—that’s all that matters. Now he can go back to drinking himself away and dreaming of what could’ve been. 

Two days later, Mori sends you away on a mission abroad that lasts the next three years. That night was the last time he had any sort of contact with you until you’re finally brought back.

[valeriianz]

I am imagining a Bi-curious Dream. Human AU. Inspired by this post. (but not at all horny or much explicit). this got a lot softer than i intended.

----------------

Dream, who goes by Morpheus, has such a stick up his ass. And he’s always only dated women, and he’s always the one getting dumped. And after this last failed relationship, where Morpheus thought for sure he’d found The One (after a record breaking 5 months), Johanna takes him out to a bar to find him a hookup. A rebound. Morpheus grumbles that he doesn’t need a rebound but goes along with it all the same.

Johanna knows of Morpheus’ bi tendencies. Though Morpheus has only mentioned it in passing that he wouldn’t mind dating a guy “if the right one came along.” They went to undergrad together, where they met and how Jo knows Morpheus has certainly kissed a lot of guys, but the idea of ever actually dating one, let alone sleeping with a man, turns Morpheus all shy and unsure. She’s teased him enough about actually stepping out of his comfort zone and actually exploring his attraction, and figures now is the best time to put that curiosity to the test.

A few drinks in and Johanna spots Hob, an old co-worker and invites him over, much to Morpheus’ chagrin. They yell and get excited seeing one another, couple of extroverts that they are, and quickly exchange pleasantries, catching up. Morpheus is seemingly ignored, and he's making it his life’s mission to drown himself in gin and juice and become one with the sticky bartop.

Dream glares at Hob out of the corner of his eyes, sizing him up, hiding behind his drink. Then Hob turns to face him as Jo introduces him and the smile he throws at Dream nearly knocks him off the stool. Morpheus sits up quickly and has an annoying concern for how his hair and eyeliner look.

“Hello, Morpheus.” And Hob extends a hand and Morpheus takes it awkwardly, an unexpected buzz shooting up his arm from Hob’s tight grip on his cold fingers.

Morpheus nods in greeting, afraid if he opens his mouth his tongue might fall out. He’s always been passively attracted to men, found some cute or handsome, but figured it was a superficial thing, or something like envy. He’d never given conscious thought to what it might be like to share… intimacies with another man. His unconscious mind, however…

Hob looked like someone peeled right out of Morpheus’ darkest, lewdess, most shameful dreams. A man with bushy brows and scruffy beard, an easy smile, and kind, chocolate brown eyes.

Okay, maybe not the most erotic image to grace Morpheus’ vision. But the glint behind Hob’s eyes, the smile that was slowly sharpening to a smirk, and the way his fingers dragged along Morpheus’ skin as their hands finally dropped, filled Morpheus with a sudden urgency to drag this man to the nearest dark corner and let Hob have his way with him.

And later that night, fueled by liquid courage and a very confident Hob leading the way, Morpheus allows himself to be pulled against a warm, broad chest and kissed senseless against the wall of a house he’s never been in before.

Hob licks into Morpheus’ mouth like he’s a man starved and Morpheus is a 5-course meal, moaning loud enough to make Morpheus’ skull vibrate. And all Morpheus can do is try to keep up, working his jaw and swallowing down little whines that he can feel bubbling up. Hob is so vocal and handsy, his fingers trailing up Morpheus’ jaw, carding through his hair, gripping the nape of his neck with a teasing bite to his lip that makes Morpheus’ knees wobble, before one hand moves down to his waist, teasing the edge of his shirt and touching pale skin.

Morpheus, for his part, has his eyes squeezed shut and is almost fighting against the urge to give in. Wondering why this is so hard for him. He’s never been kissed like this before, never been held like a precious thing before, and– he knows he’s getting into his own head. Morpheus feels himself break away with a loud, wet gasp, turning his head and mumbling a half-hearted, 

“Wait…”

And, incredibly, Hob does wait. He stands in front of Morpheus and gives him a moment to breathe. To calm down from his own insecurities and nerves. Morpheus feels like Hob is the type of guy to go all the way. The way he’d been flirting with Morpheus at the bar gave him the implication that this wasn’t Hob’s first rodeo. He didn’t boast about experience or prowess, but it was in the way he carried himself, the way he couldn’t stop staring at Morpheus, smiling like he knew he’d end up following Hob home. 

And sure enough, as soon as they’d stepped through the threshold of Hob’s home, he’d turned and pinned Morpheus against the nearest surface and kissed him without warning.

“Hey, it’s okay. I got you.” And Hob kisses the corners of Morpheus’ eyes, rubs soothing circles along his pointy hip bones, and murmurs sweetness in a quiet, calm voice. A voice that slowly makes Morpheus unravel, relaxing in Hob’s hold and tentatively bringing his own arms around Hob’s shoulders and kisses him back, properly. Eagerly.

It’s slow now, lips-only and so sweet Morpheus’ lips part on their own accord and a rush of heat crawls up his neck as he makes a desperate, needy noise. He slips his tongue past Hob’s lips to distract himself from that moment of vulnerability, feeling Hob’s grin, tasting his muffled laughter.

It’s so sensual and soft, it makes Morpheus’ head spin. And then Hob presses his body flush to Morpheus’ and they both realize they’re hard.

Morpheus surprises himself by canting his hips forward, curious to feel how Hob is hard, for him. And smiling his own, self-satisfied smile as Hob sucks in a breath and groans, trailing his lips up Morpheus’ jaw and nosing along the underside of his ear. He grinds his own hips with a little more force and it rips a whine from Morpheus’ throat, his head falling back against the wall with a dull thud and he’s squeezing his eyes shut again.

They rut back and forth for a while, Hob’s hot breath hitting Morpheus’ ear with punctuated groans of pleasure and praise that tumbles from his lips. He bites Morpheus’ throat, gentle enough to not leave a mark but hard enough to make Morpheus jolt, getting a hand in Hob’s hair and encouraging him to continue, which he does with chuckling enthusiasm.

Eventually they slow down, only for Hob to come around, take Morpheus by the chin, and wait for him to open his eyes again. Something in them makes Hob growl, leaning in like he can’t help it and biting Morpheus’ lip.

“We don’t have to go all the way, if you don’t want to,” Hob says, breathless and barely holding himself back. “But I’m dying to suck your cock.”

Morpheus flushes again, grateful for the dim lighting in Hob’s living room and nods eagerly.

The next morning, Morpheus is awoken to the smell of coffee and Hob in his kitchen, preparing breakfast. Morpheus walks in with bare feet, bare chest, flannel pajamas that are hanging off his hips for dear life, and is suddenly hungry.

He sneaks up behind Hob, slotting his pelvis against Hob’s ass and winding his arms around his waist like he belongs there. Like they do this all the time and this isn’t a one-night-stand gone awry. Hob chuckles in surprise, dropping what he’s doing to turn around in Morpheus’ hold and be kissed sloppily.

Morpheus came to the bar with Johanna looking for a rebound, just some meaningless sex to help him forget his ex. But the next morning, he had a boyfriend.

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 4

Prompt: Teratophilia Pairing: monster!IN(Jeongin) x fem!reader WC: 3,395 (I literally said “what” outloud...no way) Summary: Would you still love me if I was a worm? Of course you would! But what if I had three tails and claws and teeth sharp enough to rip your throat out and black eyes? Would you still love me then? This is a work of fiction, it does not represent IN or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this.  Additional warnings under the cut.

TW/CW: Idk a great tag for this but Jeongin’s conscious is essentially trapped when he shifts into a monster (unwillingly), the monster is very enthusiastic about fucking, Jeongin is not so much out of fear you’ll get hurt. That said IDK where to rate on the consent scale.

Also I use italics to indicate conversations between the monster and Jeongin. Sorry if that’s annoying or unclear.

Simple warnings - monsterfucking, big dick, humping, unprotected sex, breeding, knotting.

 “Babe, I think you need to know something about me before you start fantasizing about our dream apartment together,” Jeongin sighs. He knew this day was coming. For as excited as he was to dream about the future with you, he was afraid. He knew if it got to this point he’d have to tell you. Mentally listing the number of people who knew and the number of people who’d stuck around he found the number could be held in one hand alone.  You don’t even look up from your phone, scrolling aimlessly, waiting for him. Your eyes flick up to look at him as he fails to continue further. “Mhm. Okay?   “You know how you have a time of the month and like, I am super understanding and buy you supplies and have no problem going out to grab pads or even, like, lay down a towel because a good orgasm can really help cramps? I’m going to need you to be just as understanding okay?   Finally you look up from your phone, concerned. “You don’t need the monologue, what’s up?   He takes another deep breath, hands gripping his knees. Staring straight forward he blurts his whole prepared speech, “I’m actually a monster. A real monster with teeth and fangs. Once a month I need to lock myself to a chair because the need becomes too strong and I could-I could hurt people.”  You’re a blank, expressionless. It worries him, it isn’t a reaction he’d prepared for. “Okay? Like a theoretical monster or-”  “No, like a schedule three restricted access elevated permissions type monster. As in only a few people and even fewer know who are alive. Real serious shit type of monster.   Your brows furrow, “like a werewolf or…?”  At least you don’t look scared. It’s only natural for you to have questions he tells himself. “It’s complicated. Not like one of those hollywood types. Technically I think I’m ‘otherwise unspecified’ but, to summarize, think scales and teeth and wings and talons and black eyes.   The fear and regret and panic in your precious Innie’s eyes is hard to miss. The rapid way he’s rattling through the worst as a nervous habit proves his sincerity. You smile softly at him, “I think I need to see for myself.”  “What no. NO. I could- did you not hear me? I could hurt you if I-” he shudders. “If I get free I don’t know-I couldn’t guarantee-I’m not myself.   You shrug and turn back to your phone, “I trust you. I just wanna see.”

  It takes weeks of working on him to get him to agree to let you join him on his formerly labeled “boys night”. It was not without a long list of compromises on your part. You were to only observe through glass of the french doors in his living room. He would wear additional heavy duty cuffs and chains to hold him back in case the first set failed.  “No matter what,” he reminded you as you locked him into the recessed hooks behind his couch, “no matter what you cannot touch me and you cannot leave the next room. Not even to leave the apartment. The apartment door is the last line of defense and if I get out-”  ‘I know. You’ve said a billion times Innie,” you say as you push his hair back. “It’ll be fine. I trust you.   Jeongin shakes his head, holding his tongue. So stupidly confident, he knew no matter what he said he couldn’t shake it from you. Stubborn and confident in the face of the unknown. He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he looked over your handiwork. Everything was just the slightest big large, for now and not for long. The faintest shimmer crossed his forearm beneath the cuff. “Leave. Now.”  Tucking back his hair again you can’t help yourself, tilting his chin up to kiss him. “I love you.”  The kiss dries his mouth, he’s so thirsty he could die. His tongue presses to your lips, eagerly licking into your mouth as you grant him permission. You taste so sweet, sweeter than any candy he’s ever tried. Chasing your lips hungrily his teeth snap at you as you pull away. The sudden aggression making you both jump.  “Are you deaf? Leave!” Jeongin’s fingers dig into his knees, veins popping out all over. Grabbing you he tries his best to toss you backwards, chains cutting his throw short. It’s just enough to send you stumbling backwards. A split second of fear shines in your eyes, a split second that he hates himself for. “Leave,” he whimpers, head hung as he hears the click of the door behind you.

  It’s just in time. Jeongin’s arms start itching, he twitches and contorts to try to relieve the nagging flares popping all over his arms and legs. Slowly the iridescent shine stays, black scales tipping his arms and covering his hands. He screams as the bones of his finger morph curling back and up before lengthening into claws. The human part of him that remains is glad he can’t find you, hoping you left fully and locked the door behind you. Pain shoots through his spine, forcing him to curl in on himself. His jaw unhinges, gurgling through the spit pooling in his mouth, teeth turning to fangs as two feathery wings sprout from his back.  Panting and screeching he’s a half formed creature. Part lizard, part bird, part wolf, and still some human left to spare. The doctors told him it would’ve been easier if he had been able to fully transform, that being in limbo is what made him able to remember it all. This partial transformation kept the sliver of human unable to act and conscious of his state. Full shift meant the human portion wouldn’t know, could escape the pain of knowing and being unable to act.  The creature inside was pissed. It was always upset but tonight the cuffs felt particularly tight and heavy. Tugging with all his might the metal left raw impressions in the scales. Teeth snapping into the night air in desperation. He wanted to feed. He wanted more than food.

  You sat in the small what the landlord considered “dining room” just beyond the doors. Hidden in the pitch black dark beyond the doors you followed your boyfriends’ instructions to remain still and calm. Watching the pain and anguish crossing his face, you want to burst through the door. Despite the various ways he could rip you limb from limb or otherwise harm you, he looked sad. Your heart ached as you watched him struggle, magnificent wings beating and folding and flexing to try to assist his fruitless tugs. Beautiful. He was beautiful, an angel even.

 Almost an hour passed of him fighting frantically with his restraints until he wore himself out, scraped and bruised. Pitiful vocalizations were all that was left of his resistance. Feathers covered the floor, some falling from stress and others from effort. He was still beautiful. Hair hanging into his eyes, he was still beautiful. You watch him for hours, staring, though he really didn’t do much more than doze off and tug at the chains. The way the light falls on him is entrancing, dark scales seemingly twinkling at you like he was covered in stardust. Moreover he still looks like your boyfriend, despite the additions. Your heart ached for him, face covered in tear stains. The once loose cuffs looked far too tight.

  The scraping of metal against metal perks his sensitive hearing. The most delicious scent of vanilla and coconut wafts past his nose. His breathing accelerates as the pat of a bare foot hitting the ground echos loudly in the otherwise empty apartment. The door clicks and his head snaps to face the intruder.  Your stomach drops as his black eyes turn to you, grinning. His teeth are sharp and slick with saliva. “Innie, it’s me,” you whisper.   Eat. EAT. Take. TAKEtaketakeeatdevourpossess. His senses go hayware, newly invigorated to tear at his bindings. What a delicious offering. What a snack. If only this body could have her whole-   He snaps and growls in your direction, chains straining and cuffs cutting in. “Innie! Yang Jeongin! I know you’re in there!”  The monster howls, doing one last tug before settling again. Don’t hurt her, you can’t hurt her. I will kill us if you hurt her. She’s not for eating, she’s not an offering. She’s my girlfriend. She’s my girlfriend. She’s my girlfriend. The monster huffs, head twitching to his shoulder, eyes narrowing as he gives you a once over.  “I’m going to come closer. I’m-we need to be able to get along.”  He sneers and growls at the thought. This tiny thing is right. No eating. Girlfriend. Fine. No eating. The monster appears to sulk as you draw nearer. What used to be your boyfriend’s body has grown much larger than you originally thought, almost completely covered in a pattern of smooth scales.   “I’m going to touch you, the cuffs look tight. I want to make sure you aren’t hurting yourself.”   Please no please no please no I can’t control it, I’m not- he’s not in my control. The monster gives you a sideways glance but makes no movement as you reach your hand out slowly. The scales vary from slick and soft like a snakes underside to thicker and more protective where callouses used to be. In particular where the cuffs encircle his legs and arms has built up a layer of armor. A small chirp noise eminantes from his chest over a deep rumble.   “Are you purring? Do you purr?” You smile as you continue to stroke the soft side of his body. “Is the big scaly boy purring?”  A small click comes from his throat, head shaking back and forth. Moremoremoremoremore this. Need this. Good. Hunger. Want tiny thing. Everywhere. Yes. Want everywhere. More everywhere. More now. More fast. Moremoremoremore. Practically panting his eyes slide closed into a state of bliss. Suddenly he flinches and pulls from you with a snap.

  Your blood runs cold, teeth inches from your shoulder as you throw yourself backwards to the wall. “Hey! Innie! Be nice!” No leverage to hold over your words, a rush of adrenaline has you giggling. “I know you don’t mean it. I know my Innie won’t let you. I trust him so I trust you.”  Stupid tiny thing. Pretty. Want. Want more. Need. He whines and hangs his head.  “It was my fault, I went too far and you didn’t know how to handle it. Just warn me next time, okay?” You approach him again, speaking in a low soothing tone. He’d been overstimulated, he didn’t know kindness, he acted out of fear not out of a wish you hurt you. You made every excuse in the book. Heart beating wildly you were closer than ever before as he leaned back, shaking his hair from his eyes.  Closer close, yes, close. Do not fucking hurt her, you know what will happen to us if you hurt her. Closetastytinyclosetastytiny. DON’T.  Both of you barely breathe as you stroke his hair, slowly pushing it back so that it doesn’t bother him. You’d politely not looked at his boxers, previously loose now stretched to the max, but it was hard to ignore the twitch at your thigh. His eyes slide closed again and you withdraw your hand, his mouth twisting into a frown. “This time you’ll warn me right?”  He chirps again. Stupid tiny thing more now more.  Instead of returning to his hair you start touching his chest. He’s still human here, morphing into fur on his stomach and then to scale on his thighs. Your hands shake as your fingers caress down to the band of his boxers. The faint rumbling starts again. Long strokes from chest to waist, steady as you feel the muscles below relax. As your fingers ghost over the band he growls. “Not there?” You ask softly, shortening your path.  Claim. Hurt hurt need claim. Tiny human need. Need. Breed. Spawn. Offspring. Yes. Tiny thing carry spawn. “Touch. Hurt.” The words are mumbled and unclear, monster unsure of the shape of the words when spoken.   Your eyebrows shoot up. “Hurt? Where, how can I help? What can I do?”   His head hangs down, staring at the nearly destroyed boxers. “Hurt.”  Thumbs slipping below the waist band you watch his face, his mouth, his claws as you tug downwards. The soft thud of muscle against muscle as, whatever is going on down there, hits his furry lower abdomen. The noise he makes is new to your ears, a pleased trill traveling high to low. Pheromones flood the room, musky and masculine. Your head rings, blinking to clear your vision. “That help?” You don’t dare look down. Whatever it was sounded as monstrous as the being that had changed your boyfriend.  Don’t you dare, don’t you dare let her. You can’t have her. You can’t. You’ll hurt her. The monster huffs.  Eyes glued above his waist you continue to pet him, opting to skim his collarbones and shoulders instead of lower. “How is that my sweet thing? See we can be friends. I can help you. You don’t need to be afraid of me.”   Purring, his head droops again, chin to chest, “more.”  You gulp, heart dropping into your gut. “Oh-okay. If you’re sure.” Holding your breath your eyes flick south. “Fuck, more? More?” Your voice trembles. Innie wasn’t normally anything to shrug at, perfectly average length and just a little bit thicker. This, whatever the monster did to his body, this was the most. Your abs flex, walls of your sex clenching. His dick looked mostly human, deep purple and blue veins ran the thick shaft, all the way up to the head, tapered and an angry red.  “Touch,” he insists. You’ll hurt her. She-I-. Your spawn too. Our spawn. Our brood. We breed. We spawn. He lightly growls as you hesitate.   Shooting a glare at him you scold, “be nice, or I leave.” His claws grab what he can, the lower half of your calves, sharp ends carefully pressed. You weren’t going to leave him. Whining he almost looks sorry. “You manipulative little shit.” Pressing your palm to the base his cock easily passes the length of your fingers. “There’s just no way-”   “Find. More. Moremoremore,” he moans and thrusts against you. The tang of need on his tongue. The chains rattle ominously. “Find. Hurt.”   “Let me just take,” you try to scoot away from him, his claws scratching lightly as he tenses. “I need to take these pants off. To help. If you want me to help--” the grip drops immediately.   Growling and snapping as you leave him he looks more like a feral creature than your beloved. Hair wild and wings stretching to his sides. She won’t leave. She should leave. God damn it, can you just control yourself? Listen to me and we can get through this. You’ll have her, fine, you’ll get to have her. My rules, her rules. You get your fucking claim can you just listen for once? The monster leans back, heels pressing into the floor.  Naked in the moonlight you straddle him, bolder than before as you hear the familiar clicking and rumbling. “I promised. I kept my promise. Now promise, no bite, no scratch, no eat.” Your elbows rest on his shoulders, pressing his hair out of his eyes to stare into him, trying desperately to reach the boy inside the beast.   He growls, burying his head in your chest. You heard her.  Tentatively you wrap your hands around him, needing both to cover his circumference. He’s already sticky with slick. Self lubricating perhaps, or from the steady stream of substance trickling from his slit. You squeeze and pump him as you rub against his scaled thigh. IN looks pleased at least, head back and eyes closed as he purrs. However your arms quickly start hurting, range of motion and girth a challenge to your muscles. Meanwhile you’re practically dripping down his thigh, quickly growing desparate.  Your scent is potent in the air, drool leaking from the sides of his lips. Delicious devour defile deep so deep want need wantwantwantwant candy dumb stupid tiny. Fragile mine mine have need mine. He grunts and whines, arms tugging again at the chains. For some reason despite the closeness, despite the fact that he could easily bite you, you aren’t afraid.  “Normally you’d prep me but,” you smile adoringly at his pleased expression, “I somehow don’t think that’ll happen huh.”   He chirps back, hips bucking enthusiastically upwards as your grip loosens.  You’re glad for the tapered tip as you position him at your entrance. It’ll still be a stretch no double but at least it wasn’t a blunt one. Baring his teeth IN growls, writhing and thrusting up into your wetness. “My speed!” You yelp as the head pops passed your entrance.  Her speed jackass go her speed! Warm, want more. Deeper need, need deep. Tiny thing is small tight warm warm tight need. He pants and groans as you slowly slip down, his hips canting and bouncing, eeking out whatever extra depth he could. Finally you settle, only able to take a little over 3/4th of him, leaving the bulbous, calloused base exposed. You bend forward and wrap your arms around his neck, rocking your hips as you get used to the burning stretch. With your ear to his neck you can better feel his pleased subvocalizations, trilling as your fingers scratch the leathery base of his wings.

  “Good boy. You’re being really good for me,” you mutter as you feel him tense and shudder. “Doing well, going my pace. Feels good. Good right?” Leaning back you grind against his lower abs, letting the coil in your stomach wind back. “Just a little more and then I gotta rest, okay?” Your walls squeeze desperately around him. Your beautiful monster. Dangerous and hungry but yours.  More need moremoremoremoremoremoremore faster go faster deep fast. He grits his teeth and yips, frustrated. His muscles flex, as his arms tug again. Grab, grab tiny. Grab fill breed fill spawn. Mate mine mineminemine. Hungry. Twisting and tugging again a link pops with a bang. Throwing you off balence, falling foward to grab him by the shoulders. Your overstimulated clit spasms, orgasm rolling painfully over you. Your scent floods his nostrils, sweet and musky and a little spicy now. Delicious. No don’t you dare don’t you dare. She’s my girlfriend don’t you dare. He tugs again, the second set of chains popping open. Our tiny. Our.  The curve of his talons perfectly fit over your shoulder as his arms wrap around you. It all happens in the blink of an eye, the chains popping, his arms gathering you between them, the force of his hips driving forward as he locks you in his embrace.  You’re screaming as he forces the rest of himself inside of you, practically roaring as you both fall forward. Hanging off of him he cradles you as he pounds brutally quickly into your cunt. There’s no art or finesse to it, only aim to drive himself as deeply as possible into your womb. Every noise he makes is strange and animalistic, rough tongue licking away at your neck as if he was preparing you for something much more sinister.  You’re moaning, maybe, or choking on air, could be screaming. The blood rushing in your ears clouds your perception of noise. Cumming again on him, drives as deep as he can go, base of his cock growing thicker and locking inside of you. Whiting out from the pressure, your body is limp and vulnerable to the monster.  Bitebitebitebitebitebitebitebite mate bitebitebite. He waits for the other man to speak. Bite? The other man has quieted or left. He bares his teeth, your neck exposed. It would be easy. He huffs, another spurt of release emptying into you, stomach distending slightly.  The monster gathers you, sitting back and draping your form over his chest as he purrs. You shiver, locked to him naked in the cool night air. Two wings wrap around you, cloaking you in what little he can provide. The man will be back in the morning light, the monster is satisfied and so are you.

I was thinking about this one and as I was writing I feel like next year I’ll do fewer prompts but just...all monsters. Like monsterfucker october for kinktober. Assign different traits to all the skz and atz members.

[rebelwrites]

Twenty Eight: Till The Wheels Fall Off

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till The Wheels Fall Off Masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

A/N so this is it, this is the final part of this series 🥺 I put so much of myself into this story and kinda sad it didn’t get more love but hey what can you do! I hope you have enjoyed following the journey of Charles and Nova!! They will forever hold a special interest pace in my heart ❤️

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

Christmas was now only three days away, it had always been my favorite season. Everything about it made me feel like a child again. The excitement of getting gifts, the ambiance of the tree lit up, the warm fuzzy feeling on the cold winter nights wrapped up with a large mug of hot chocolate. The whole festive period was full of magic and I couldn’t get enough.

But everything was different this year.

It was coming up on three months since we lost Pops and I was struggling to see the magic in anything, everything just reminded me of him.

Walking into my bedroom I found Charles routing through my wardrobe, tossing items of clothing at the open suitcase that was placed on top of my bed. “You won’t find anything in there that's your size,” I chuckled, shrugging off my dressing gown, hanging it on the back of the door.

“Haha, very funny,” Charles laughed, spinning around holding a very sparkly red dress. “Why have I never seen you in this before?”

“Because it was banished to the back of the closet for a reason,” I huffed, grabbing the dress from him, placing it back where it belonged. “I fell in love with it when I brought it but it just makes me feel so self conscious, plus I’ve gained weight since I brought it so I doubt it would fit me anymore.”

Charles slowly nodded at me, wrapping his arms around my waist. The smirk on his face was telling me he was up to something. “Can I ask why you are raiding my clothes and why is my suitcase on my bed?”

“It’s a surprise,” he winked, turning back to the task he was doing when I walked in. “I’m nearly done anyway so make sure you are wearing something comfy and meet me downstairs in ten.”

“You know I hate surprises right?” I huffed, folding my arms across my chest.

“Quit moaning, Sunshine and get your ass dressed.” he hummed.

“Fine, but if this is a shit surprise I will -”

“Rip my limbs off, I know that seems to be your go to punishment at the moment,” he laughed, finally closing my wardrobe.

Rolling my eyes at my boyfriend I pulled what I needed from my drawers before slipping into the bathroom to get ready. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was planning some sort of trip which was why I found myself putting a bit more effort in my appearance knowing that wherever we were going there would more than likely be press hanging around.

I could hear everyone moaning at the bottom of the stairs as I made my way down.

“I hope your time keeping is better when you are working,” Charles hummed, cocking his brow at me. “because Fred will skin you alive.”

“Baby, you are forgetting Fred loves me, I’m the favorite. He would cover up a murder and help me hide the body if I asked him to.” I smirked, poking my tongue out at him.

Hours had passed and no one was telling me where we were going, looking around the cabin of the private jet I realized both Charles and Elenor were asleep but there was the soft glow from a phone coming from where Jax was sitting. Kicking the blanket off my body I pushed myself up to my feet making my way over to my brother.

“What’s up Squirt?” he asked, pulling out his headphones, pausing whatever movie he was watching .

“Just thinking about the future,” I whispered, settling on the seat next to him, resting my head on his shoulder. “I haven’t told Charles yet but I am actually nervous about starting with Ferrari at the start of the season.”

“Kiddo, you are gonna do amazing,” Jax whispered, gently squeezing my hand. “I don’t know why you kept your talent of photography a secret for all these years. Plus everyone already loves you.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at my older brother, “you are just saying that because we are family.” I scoffed.

“I am being serious and obviously Fred loves your work otherwise he wouldn’t have hired you.”

“I guess you are right,” I shrugged, trying to hide the yawn that escaped my lips.

“Squirt, I’m always right,” he smirked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Why don’t you try and get some sleep.”

I was going to fight it but my body was screaming at me to get some rest, I had no idea what Charles was planning so decided Jax was once again right. Soon enough I found myself next to Charles, automatically I snuggled into his warm body letting his heartbeat be the soothing sound I needed to finally drift off to sleep.

Charles was a sneaky devil, the first thing I was surprised about was how I had no idea how he managed to plan a trip to Monaco to spend Christmas with his family without me realizing anything was going on, but it was like he knew what I needed. As much as I loved Charming and it would always be my home I needed to get away from it for a bit, in fact we all did, especially with it being the first Christmas without Pops. The second thing was he had packed the red dress that I told him had been banished to the back of the closet for the rest of eternity.

I couldn’t believe I agreed to try it on but the moment he slowly fastened the zipper on the back I was shocked. The dress fitted better now than it ever did when I first brought it. I was adamant this would never fit me again but one look in the mirror and I was practically reduced to tears. The moment I locked eyes with Charles through the reflection I finally felt beautiful, quietly and without me even realizing it the man I called my boyfriend had single handedly rebuilt my confidence bit by bit.

“Come on then, Sunshine, let's go for a walk,” he hummed, pressing a kiss against my cheek.

“Don’t you think we are a bit overdressed for a walk?” I questioned, spinning round letting my arms wrap around his neck.

“We are in Monaco, some people might think you are under dressed.”

“And what do you think, Mr Leclerc?” I purred, brushing my nose against his.

“Absolutely radiant,” he whispered, his lips gazing mine and his eyes darkening slightly as he spoke. “If I didn’t have plans for us I would be tearing it off with my teeth.”

Leaning up so I was on my tiptoes I brushed my lips against the shell of his ear feeling him shiver under my touch, “If that's the case I’d rather stay right here.”

“Stop being a tease, Teller,” he growled, tightening his grip on my hips. “I have something special planned so get that ass moving.”

The streets of Monaco looked absolutely stunning under the moonlight, I was slowly starting to feel the magic of Christmas returning. For once in my life I didn’t care if the press snapped a picture of me and Charles, nothing mattered at that moment.

Soon enough we came to the sea front and Charles came to a stop, swiftly kicking off his shoes and socks, “fancy a walk on the beach?” he asked, for some reason he was nervously looking around but I didn’t think anything of it

“Why not it’s a beautiful night,” I beamed, taking his hand as I pushed my heels off my feet.

There was no one else around making everything feel more romantic, like there was no one else on the planet and it was just me and Charles.

As we were walking across the sand I let my mind wander. The past five months had been an utter whirlwind, never in a million years did I think I would end up dating someone, let alone Charles Leclerc. I always refused to believe in soulmates, to me it was something companies made up to get money out of gullible couples but that all changed the moment Charles came speeding into my life. He caused my world to shift on its axis, he was the one who made me love again and if anyone asked if I believed in soulmates my answer was yes because Charles was mine. There was something about our connection that I couldn’t explain, it was like our souls had danced together in a previous lifetime.

Once again Charles came to a standstill, dropping our shoes onto the warm sand. “Nova Teller,” he whispered, taking my hands in his.

“Charles Leclerc,” I giggled, causing a large smile to appear on his beautiful face.

“The moment you came crashing into the bar reciting the Monza commentary I was drawn to you, I couldn’t get you out of my head. That night I found myself watching you move gracefully around the bar, laughing and joking with everyone.”

My heart started pounding against my chest as I realized what he was doing, this was the reason he wanted to dress up, why he wanted to go for a random walk on Christmas eve. Tears threatened to spill over my lash line as I found myself biting my tongue wanting to let him finish.

“I never thought I had a chance with you if I was being honest, but here we are spending one of many beautiful nights together. I have never loved anyone as much as I loved you. I made a vow to myself that I was never going to let myself fall in love again but that all changed the moment I laid eyes on you.” His eyes were glistening from unshed tears in the moonlight, his movements were slow as he dropped to one knee, pulling out a red velvet box from his jacket pocket.

My hand flew to my mouth as the tears started to fall. Never in a million years did I think I would get a moment like this and here I was experiencing it with Charles Leclerc.

“I couldn’t tell you at the time but this was the reason I had a call with JT, I didn’t want to do this without his blessing and Sunshine the first words out of his mouth was ���it took you long enough to ask’” he chuckled, as he finally opened the box to reveal the most stunning ring I had ever seen. “So I’m not going to make you wait any longer, Nova Teller, will you be my wife, will you marry me?”

It was like the words got caught in my throat and the only thing I could do was nod my head like a madwoman. After what felt like an eternity I finally found my words. “Yes Char,” I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks as he slid the ring onto my finger. My heart was bursting with love, especially knowing that he rang Pops to make sure he had his blessing.

Once the ring was sat in the right position Charles pushed himself to his feet, pulling me in for the most passionate kiss we had ever had. I felt like I was in one of those cheesy rom coms, but it was perfection, better than I could have ever dreamt of. Slowly I pulled away from Charles resting my forehead against his, giving myself a chance to catch my breath from the kiss.

The man standing in my arms was the one who never stopped believing in me, and I was proud to call him my fiancé “Thank you for being here and not giving up on me,” I whispered, letting my eyes flutter close.

“Sunshine, I’m not going anywhere, plus you have said you will be my wife so baby you are kinda stuck with me now,” he hummed, running his fingers through my hair. He paused for a second, pressing a tender kiss to the top of my head. Nothing could match this feeling. For the first time in the past three months I realized there was light at the end of the tunnel. I knew I was going to be alright, as long as I had my family behind me and Charles standing by my side. I couldn’t prepare myself for the next five words to pass his lips, but it was the words I needed to hear from the man I loved.

“Till the wheels fall off.”

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @burningcupcakefire @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

[ekingston]

Your reply on ao3 about your wife’s screenshot and being a cheerleader stuck with me, because I’ve realized I don’t actually articulate enough how amazing some writers (read: you) are. I finished the most recent chapter of soup (after eleven-thousand unacceptable distractions), and I was going to plunk together a quick comment that would absolutely not do enough justice to express the genius I find your writing to be. So instead I opened a google doc and started smashing my keyboard which resulted in a pretty long-winded... something, but allow me to fan-girl for like, a second:

The quality and style of your writing floors me every time. There is an effortlessness about it that makes it totally and completely bingeable but also something that gives a little more each time I read it. For me, it’s the most replayable form of literature: I can go back for the plot, for the character rapport, for the punchy dialogue, or for the voice of the narrator. It fits all the moods. It charms me. It amuses me. I want to hug it.

Your work excites me, and when I think of authors and works that excite me, I’m lumping you in with like, Heartburn which is an all-time favorite for that exact reason: I can binge it in a day or go back and sip on it and discover something clever and witty and just impossibly gorgeous in execution.

And speaking as someone who CANNOT for the life of me write something that doesn’t eventually tumble into a vat of angst, I also just adore the way you manage tension without losing the light-hearted reading experience. Holiday wine is a masterpiece, AND I think Soup is almost better because you juggle so much more: the chorus of characters are taking on their own plot lines, the stakes are higher, you add danger and adventure, you weave a more complex, interconnected storyline, and you massage it all beautifully to act as a supporting cast to the core of the story.

Which brings me to the trope (and a complete tangent): miscommunication. Like, ok look… I usually can’t stand it. But that’s mostly because of the execution: the obvious interruptions, the clear misdirection and disregard for natural intuition, the not asking the right questions, the very blatant ham-fisted forcefulness of it just… I can’t.

AND THEN YOU WENT AND MADE A MASTERCLASS OF IT.

You took every complaint you didn’t know I had and put in the work to make it believable. Kara is charmingly oblivious but not for lack of trying. She perfectly talks past Nia and Alex and Lena not just once but every. time. and every time is just so well-conceived and articulated and *gesticulates hands in the air wildly trying to find the right word* gah. The world of her confusion and misguidedness is so believable and commendable and *gesticulates again* gah. This is the absolute genius of the work. I will give kudos till I’m blue in the face about the story as a whole, but I will die on the ‘Easter crushed the miscommunication trope’ hill.

And this is just ONE EXAMPLE of how you knock it out of the park every single time. I could go on about how solidly you write the characters, how charming your prose is, how epic your one-shots are, or how I don’t even care that I can’t trust your chapter count anymore but this is already a run-on and I'm running out of air.

I don’t know how you write, if there is one draft or a million, if you just stream–of-conscious this into existence, or if you summon the words through a ouija board, but it’s brilliant and commendable and THANK YOU for doing what you’re doing.

so. this message is. a miracle? and you are a GIFT. and i’m not going to be able to elaborate much beyond that, because unlike you, i am terrible; at writing attentive notes, at handling compliments, and—hilariously, maybe, since i’ve finally started thinking of myself as a writer again after a decade of self-loathing false starts—at writing down my thoughts in an easily digestible way.

can i say it’s the nicest thing i’ve ever gotten from someone who isn’t (yet?) a close personal friend? that the timing of it was almost implausibly perfect because it arrived in the middle of the deep breathing exercises i was doing after being made aware of some deeply stupid twitter discourse around Soup that was going on right as i was getting ready to post its final chapter?

i think i’ll stick to the important stuff: like THANK YOU. like how your (AMAZING) note completely obliterated the bad stuff and made me excited not just to wrap up this fic, or even to jump into the next, but about doing it all in the first place. that it was a very needed reminder of what an immensely privileged position i’m in to be able to put something out online that brings people (you) enough joy that you want to come tell me about it. and, obviously, that the specific things you chose to highlight are extraordinarily flattering, and i am absolutely not immune to that kind of thing.

i went back and forth on publishing this ask because it feels almost embarrassing, and boastful. but whatever, you know? you made me feel good about my writing again and provided important perspective and ultimately you put thought and effort and overall awesomeness into it and i’m not going to hide that away when you intended it to be shared.

thank you. SO MUCH.

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

Honestly I don’t think people are making enough of how Vox got Alastor’s defeat on film: he was so rattled he couldn’t even block himself from the broadcast. I all but guarantee Vox will have Valentino have Angel star in a narrative pron film recreating the events of the finale through that lens, and the fandom will explode.

I really enjoyed Vox live reaction of the hotel preparing and fighting. I wasn't expecting it. I just thought the show would just focus on those in battle. But those cut scene really added so much and im glad it was included. Vox reactions similar to one who watching an intense sport game. Valentinos "Well, this just got more interesting." from Lucifer "I'm going to fuck you!". Velvette not really caring about Vox interest but there for support anyways, only to keep looking up with mild concern or annoyance at Vox overly excited behavior. Finishing with vox voicing the audience thought of "Hole-leee-shit" When Niffty stabbed Adam.

I agree with you Vox manage to film Alastor. I made a post of this early one.

How Alastor interference is an conscious effort. I originally thought before the last episode it was a passive ability he emitted by being the radio demon. We find out its actually its a power he releases purposely at all times. Given, Vox has a clear photograph of Alastor, was able to film Alastor battle since Alastor was too focus on the fight and needed his all his power for the battle.

I am assuming whatever caused Alastor and Vox fallout is partly caused by a recording Vox once had on Alastor that Alastor did not approve of. So Alastor just emitted an aura of static interfacing nonstop since then to prevent it from happening again. Or he just that spiteful regardless.

I don't think the Vees would normally go that far about porn in fear of retaliation but with Alastor clearly weaken, possible. I don't doubt that Vox hired Val workers for his own private collection with Alator likness, or created his own with AI.

But Vox footage of Alastor battle will be brought up in season 2. Either Vox broadcasting it, or used as news clip informing Alastor missing whereabouts (is he dead, or missing for another 7 years or just too embarrassed to show his face?) as Alastor probably laying low from the injury. Or is Vox going to try to use the video as leverage against Alastor into a deal. Either way, it the clip will have some 5 minutes of fame in the next season.

[bigshotspambot]

I wanted to do a redraw of the first drawing I posted here… I can’t thank you you all enough for so much love and support :) I guess I’ll just go on about everything here …

TLDR: You’ve all made me so much happier and I appreciate you so much 💕I hope I’ve made you all a bit happier too…! ALSO THANK YOU FOR SPREADING SNEO LOVE !!!! HE LOVES YOU !!!!!

(Also this isn’t the end I just wanted to make a long ass thank you post 😁)

Last year I can’t even describe how self conscious this whole “finding out I had feelings for Sneo” thing made me. I know that it is VERY SILLY to say but it was confusing because I thought I only liked girls. That maybe started to lead to an identity crisis? If that’s the right word?? I also felt really ashamed for some reason, I think I internalized a lot of stuff. I was also horribly paranoid of people I knew finding out I liked this Thing a Non-Normal amount and thinking I was weird for it.

When I made this blog it was a decision I thought about a lot. I eventually went through with it cuz I REALLY wanted to see more x reader content with SNEO, and I was hoping other people wanted that too. So after posting this stuff and seeing people actually liked it, I was filled with both excitement and regret. (Regret because it was embarrassing that anybody saw it) but it was also so exciting because I wanted people to know they weren’t alone in how they felt. For me it’s so validating to know people feel the same (especially about a weird crush lol) and I wanted to spread that :]

I can’t say how much the first asks I got meant to me, especially the supportive ones, they were just so sweet. I could probably go on about this for an unreasonably long time so I’ll try to keep it short- after so much support (and a lot of freaking out) this all eventually helped me accept myself and made me more confident and happy.

It took months though, and it’s still an ongoing process… but I am confident in saying that I’m so, so much happier right now than I was last year :) and it’s because of you!!!

I know this is really cheesy but you guys mean the world to me and you’ve helped me so much, I hope this content has helped you feel more comfortable and understood too 💖I love interacting with you guys. It makes me so happy reading the tags in reblogs, replies, or even seeing the super nice drawings of my Sneo design 🥺 the idea of anybody spending their time to like or reply or even make something for me is just so incredibly kind. The numbers have started to boggle my mind and it’s hard to express how much it means to me, but it genuinely means the world :)

(Again I could go into a lot more detail, but I’m not great with summarizing, and I don’t wanna make this into another horribly long post that goes straight to drafts cuz i couldn’t finish it LOL)

Also one final note FUCK CRINGE CULTURE ‼️CRINGE CULTURE IS DEAAAAADDD GO BE CRINGE AND WEIRD AND CRAZY AND HAVE FUN AND BE PASSIONATE ABOUT WHAT YOU DO BECAUSE YOU CANNOT BE STOPPED‼️‼️ this is the path to enlightenment

[corviiids]

8, 18, 23, and all the other numbers you haven't answered yet

ooohoho really enabling me there thank you very much. answered 23 in the last one! i wont do all of them or this'll get super long but ill put a few more under the cut!!

8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

tbh ive been contemplating a silly oneshot sequel to as you like it but i do have to actually finish the damn thing before i even think about that so ill leave it there.

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

im actually notoriously bad at killing my darlings so i didn't think i'd have that many deleted scenes, but i did find a few older versions of the makoto&ren scene in chapter 6 of as you like it that i had completely forgotten about. looking back on these i actually still like them

v1.0 of the grounding sequence ren goes through after his nightmares. i think i cut this because it was too long and didn't flow well in context, but im sort of fond of it in isolation:

this was from an alternate version of the scene altogether, where they go to harajuku instead of inokashira so ren can find some featherman merch futaba wanted. i dont like this version as much as the final but i am fond of the extremely long spiralled potato:

then a completely unrelated ren/akc date that i cut because it wasn't doing any work and i didn't think it was fun enough to be kept in:

...

a few more answers for fun (1-5)

writer asks

the last sentence you wrote

i cant remember which line i actually last wrote so here's the last line in current wip

He laughs again. In the silence where Ren tries to re-examine his own complexes, Akechi draws ahead on the wall.

2. a character whose POV you’re currently exploring

ren! i think he's fun because he's the player character and the protags are generally designed to be pretty malleable (or personalityless if you're feeling uncharitable... or wrong) so obviously there's a temptation to just make him whatever your story needs him to be, but i think he's a really tempting and interesting opportunity to really get your claws into a guy who has a personality but refuses to show it and have that be one of his character traits. he's so adaptable to every situation but there are so many moments where his stubbornness and inner values shine through in his limited dialogue, so the challenge becomes like, how do you deduce the rest of a character's hidden personality based on the little they show you? how do you unpack someone whose character is that he wants to be whoever you want him to be? what's going on in his mind? how do you understand him and fill in the gaps in a way that's consistent with what he does in canon when he gives you so little to work with? this is an irresistible challenge to me so he just lives in my brain. he's not even renting he owns the place and he doesnt have a mortgage

3. how you feel about your current WIP

i think palacefic is the project that ignites the most personal passion and excitement in me so im really so excited to finish writing it so i can share it and also so i can read it instead of reading my own chickenscratch notes and think about how excited i am to write it

4. a story idea you haven’t written yet

i keep coming back to circle this idea of postcanon akeshu and how they navigate a relationship (word used free of connotation) where they are constantly circling each other and obviously cant do without each other but also like. are so codependent and not at all functional enough to really have a normal romantic relationship or even friendship. i wrote like a short scene of this which i put on twitter a while back i might actually post it here. and i also started a short fic just to get some thoughts down but never had any plans for how to continue it

5. first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

im self conscious about how much of this has been about palacefic, so have a line from my death note longfic instead (i cheated this is like the tenth paragraph because the first paragraph is introductory and none of the lines make sense in isolation or they're too spoilery)

Well, when you eliminate the impossible.

[bro-atz]

1024UB CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: WHEN DID YOU BECOME SO SMART?

word count: 2.5k

table of contents ♤ previous chapter ♤ next chapter

“I still can’t believe you went home and visited your family without me,” Wooyoung complained to San as he shot him down.

“Listen, I get that you’re mad at me, but you don’t have to take it out on my character,” San frowned as he failed to avoid Wooyoung’s attack.

Ever since he got back from his trip with Gyuri, Wooyoung had been upset with San. They used to hang out a lot more before he and Gyuri went exclusive, which Wooyoung nagged San about until they finally hung out. 

“Why didn’t you take me along this time? I came with you for the past three years,” Wooyoung continued to ruthlessly murder San’s character.

“Well, you know…”

“Does your dad hate me? Oh God, he does doesn’t he.”

“No, he doesn’t, Woo. He loves you—”

“Then why didn’t you take me along?!”

San searched for words that Wooyoung would accept and let him off the hook for not bringing him on the trip, but there were no words. What ended up changing the subject was San killing Wooyoung’s character explosively, letting him win the game. Wooyoung threw his controller at San.

“Stop being mean to me!”

“I’m sorry, Woo! I brought you the high quality steak cuts as an apology,” San bit back a laugh. “I can get you more meat if you have anything else in mind.”

That seemed to do the trick. Wooyoung, deep in thought, sat with his arms crossed over his chest. He seemed to be really contemplating what else he wanted from San. A few minutes of Wooyoung thinking passed before he ended up waving his hand in the air and saying, “I don’t know. If there’s something I want later, I’ll text you.”

“That works. Sorry, Woo.”

“It’s okay. You’re forgiven. I can’t stay mad at you. I also am super happy you brought the meat because there’s a recipe I’ve been wanting to try making for a while now.”

Wooyoung actually seemed more excited about the meat than he did playing video games, and San actually did let out a light laugh.

“Have you ever considered food science?” he asked.

“Yes, but we’re in our final semester. It’s too late for me.”

“Masters?”

“…Huh, I guess you’re right.”

With that, the two of them returned to their unnecessarily violent video game. Sometimes, San would get nightmares because of the game, but he didn’t dare admit that to anyone in the group (other than Gyuri) in fear that they would make fun of him. He was already scared shitless by people simply jumping out from behind a wall to scare him. Gyuri made fun of him a little bit at the beginning, but she felt bad after he fell to the ground and laid there for a good ten minutes. He was grateful that she had enough of a conscious to stop. Wooyoung did not.

“Hey, is it just me, or has Gyu changed lately?”

It was as if San thought about Gyuri too loudly. As he responded in shock, Wooyoung successfully killed his character. San scrambled to recover and act normally.

“What do you mean?” he tried to ask as nonchalantly as possible.

“Yeah, she’s been acting hella different ever since Hwa came back.”

“Maybe she’s still not used to the fact that he’s back. He did traumatize the shit out of her.”

“No, she’s not like… fearful? Is that the right word?” Wooyoung pondered. “Anyway, no, like I mean… How do I put this? Uh, remember when I told you that I think Gyu’s been having sex?”

As if he could forget. “Yeah?”

“Well, this was like a while back, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” Wooyoung killed San’s character once more. “Yes! Oh, uh, but yeah the other day I was looking for you and you weren’t responding, so I texted Gyu but she didn’t respond either. Then, I went to her apartment, and she was like…”

San felt his heart in his throat when Wooyoung trailed off. “Yeah?”

“She was under the covers and her face was hella red.”

“Was she sick?” San asked after the conversation pretty much ended because they were trying so hard to kill each other in the game.

“She said she was, but I feel like…” Wooyoung trailed off yet again. “Nah, I can’t say.”

“What? Tell me.”

“I think she was masturbating when I came in.”

San choked on his spit. He paused the game as he fell into a coughing fit, his hand shakily reaching for a glass of water that rested on the coffee table. He definitely was not expecting him to say that of all things.

“What… in the world? What the actual fuck?!”

“Bro, she was like… Definitely getting off or something… Like she was trembling and biting her lip and shit.”

It was at that moment that San knew exactly what moment he was talking about. That was the day San learned how to crack macadamia nuts. If he had heard this at any other time, he would have been pretty proud of himself, but now was just not the time. Wooyoung was scaring the shit out of him with this anecdote, and he prayed to God that he didn’t go any further with it.

“Never mind that. That’s just masturbation.” San took a breath of relief too early because Wooyoung followed that definitively with, “She’s been hooking up with someone.”

Once again, San choked on his spit, and he had to drink more water to calm himself down. Wooyoung did not seem to take note of his intense reactions to his statements. “Her neck was covered in red marks that day.”

“Maybe they were bug bites,” San prayed that Wooyoung would think he’s just playing devil’s advocate— he was quite oblivious.

“No, they were definitely hickeys… Lately, there seems to be more every other day.”

San was grateful that Gyuri was not here to hear this, otherwise she’d murder San for sure. “Who’s she been sleeping with, then? Since you’re so certain,” he tried to seem as though he were genuinely unsure about his theory.

Wooyoung pondered for another good thirty seconds before San could literally see a lightbulb flash above his head, “Oh my God, do you think it’s Seonghwa?”

Rage filled San’s blood. He was no longer anxious about the subject matter. He was pissed. How could Wooyoung possibly think that she would be hooking up with the very man that ended their friendship because he was whipped for a dumb bitch? San tried to calm himself down, but that didn’t work as he spat out, “I doubt that.”

“Yeesh, that’s harsh. Why do you doubt it?”

“Well, like, that one day where you and Joong tried to beat him up, before that he was saying super nasty shit about her personality. I don’t think she’d want to hook up with someone who actually said something so horrible to her face.”

“What’d Hwa say again? I forgot.”

“He said Bora was better than Gyu because at least she didn’t have Gyu’s anger issues.”

“Yikes, okay, yeah. She probably isn’t hooking up with him. I don’t think Hwa was even back when I walked in on her that one time.”

Realizing that he may have set himself up for failure, San could only nod. He should have let Wooyoung run with his Seonghwa theory. It was too late for that now, though.

“She’s definitely sleeping with someone. I also think it is someone in group. I don’t think she’s close with anyone outside the group, and there’s no way she would have been able to keep that relationship a secret… But who?”

He wanted to scream at Wooyoung to let it go. The more the boy talked, the more uncomfortable San got. He didn’t know how to lead Wooyoung away from the conversation anyway without sounding suspicious, so he just remained quiet and tried to look deep in thought until Wooyoung moved on from the topic himself.

“…I can’t figure out who… Eh, I’ll think about it later.”

Thank fucking God. San was so relieved when Wooyoung resumed the game and the two continued to play. He wanted to have a good time with his best friend, not get scared shitless by him. All of Wooyoung’s theories slipped out of his mind the more time they played. Empty beer bottles and energy drink cans decorated the living room floor and coffee table as the night progressed, and finally, San had to take a bathroom break. He paused the game and told Wooyoung that he had to go to the bathroom real quick.

After relieving his bladder, San made his way back to the living room. Wooyoung’s back was facing him, but he could still see that the tips of the boy’s ears were bright red. San got closer and saw that Wooyoung was looking at a phone. Fear washed over San’s body the closer he got to his friend on the ground. It was San’s phone Wooyoung was looking at.

“Oh my God, Woo! Get off my phone!” San was royally freaking out.

Wooyoung turned and looked up at San, his nose bleeding profusely, his face as red as a fire truck, San’s phone held tight in his white-knuckled grip. “Why the fuck is Gyuri sending you nudes?!”

“What?!”

San pried his phone from Wooyoung’s grasp and saw that Wooyoung had opened his text thread with Gyuri. The latest text he got from her was her keeping her promise and sending him pictures of her in the lingerie she bought for him— this number was a royal purple velvet garter skirt paired with a sheer bra that left little to the imagination. The worst part was there was a picture of Gyuri fully bent over, the skirt rising slightly to reveal her wearing the tiniest g-string in the world. San felt blood rushing through his body and turning him on. Horrible timing.

Wooyoung stuffed tissues in his nose to stop the bleeding as San sunk down to the ground with his hand holding his phone in a death grip, a new fear unlocked within him. He tried to speak, but his vocal cords refused to work. After many stuttering noises, San managed to squeak out, “Woo, wait, I can explain.”

Waiting was not an acceptable option for the boy with the bleeding nose. “She’s been sleeping with you?! All the texts you’ve been getting are from her?! When she texted you that one day and I saw the texts, did you hook up with her?!”

More empty noises left San’s soul. He couldn’t believe that the dumbass before him was actually using his brain for once. Part of San considered smashing one of the empty bottles against Wooyoung’s head to get the boy to pass out and forget that this happened, but he was frozen.

“Holy shit, wait…” San watched realization sink into Wooyoung’s eyes. “You went on vacation with her! You didn’t go home, you went to Jeju with her and Iseul!”

“Why are you using your brain right now?!” San found words to shoot back at Wooyoung. “Why are you smart now of all times?!”

“Everything makes sense! Oh my God, you and Gyu! Why haven’t you told any of us?!”

To get Wooyoung to stop talking, San pushed his phone far away from the two of them and covered the talkative boy’s mouth. Wooyoung instinctively thrashed around trying to get his mouth free from San’s hands, but San was strong. He finally settled down when San said, “I’ll explain everything if you promise to remain calm and not tell anyone.”

The boy nodded slowly.

“You cannot say a word to anyone, okay?” San reiterated.

He shot him a thumbs up, and San finally let go of him. The two sat on the ground with their legs folded. San narrated Iseul’s explanation as closely as possible, but he felt as though he missed something important. He told him about why they started hooking up in the first place, the fact that he and Iseul went on a couple dates, the “date” Seonghwa took Gyuri on, him and Gyuri becoming exclusive and going on the trip to Thailand— not Jeju— together and how that trip happened. That was pretty much everything, right?

The craziest part about that moment was that Wooyoung actually sat quietly and listened to everything San told him while staring at him with wide eyes and his jaw dropped the whole time. It kind of freaked him out to see his best friend so damn quiet for once in his life. He tapped his knee and asked, “You good, Woo?”

“Uh, um,” Wooyoung cleared his throat— San handed him some water to help his throat recover— and then said, “I just have one comment.”

“What is it?”

“You better be serious about her. I will get very, very angry with you if you’re just going to string her along.”

“Of course I’m serious about her. This wouldn’t have lasted this long if it were just for shits and giggles.”

Satisfied with his answer, Wooyoung’s body eased up, letting San relax a bit more. He could still feel his heart racing thinking about Wooyoung looking at those pictures Gyuri sent him. He couldn’t help but anxiously chew his lower lip.

“I’m still fucking shocked,” Wooyoung admitted. “I can’t believe that she is seeing someone in the group and that someone is you.”

San looked away shyly. Wooyoung continued, “Like you? Of all people? She could definitely do better.”

Offended, San kicked Wooyoung over. “At least I’m definitely better than you!” He shot back.

With a laugh, Wooyoung fell over near San’s phone. The two boys looked at San’s phone. San felt his face heat up just thinking about those pictures Gyuri sent. He still could not believe that Wooyoung found out about them because of their goddamn text thread. San cursed himself for not changing his password to something more secure so that Wooyoung couldn’t have gotten in.

“Yo… But those pictures of Gyu… The purple lingerie… That was hot. I see the appeal,” San looked at Wooyoung’s face, a fresh trail of blood running out of his nose.

“Woo, please, shut up. Don’t think about Gyuri like that,” San sighed as he shoved tissues up his friend’s nose.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“Yes, you asshole.”

“…Eh, she’s still fucking hot.”

San put Wooyoung in a headlock. The two boys wrestled for a hot second before San’s text notification went off. He let Wooyoung go and checked his phone to see that Gyuri sent him another message.

PRIVATE MESSAGE: gyuday

gyuday: whyd you leave me on read? gyuday: were the pics not good? should i take them again? gyuday: oh wait don’t tell me ur getting off to the pics rn…… choosan: no i’m not choosan: but wooyoung knows now choosan: he got into my phone while i was in the bathroom and saw the pics gyuday: FUCK

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1024UB tag list: @dalsuwaha @eyeryis @choisanswifexo @haebaragisworld @dazzlingstarrs @hongjoongswifefr @yjpumas @my-lightspirit

network: @cromernet

apply here to be part of the taglist!

[reddit-007]

🍏 Tumbler Review: Superfood 180 Fruit and Veggie Capsules 🍅🌽

✨ "The Secret to Becoming a Superhuman (Or at Least Super Energized)" ✨

Alright, fellow health adventurers, gather 'round! If you’re tired of your daily struggle to incorporate the recommended 11 servings of fruits and veggies into your diet, while also not giving up pizza and ice cream, let me introduce you to the Superfood 180 Fruit and Veggie Capsules!

🌟 Pros:

Veggie Power-Up: 180 veggie capsules mean you can finally say “I eat my greens” without actually having to chew on kale like a rabbit. Who knew tiny pills could make you feel like a health guru? 🥦💊

Energy Boost: Feeling sluggish? One scoop of these capsules (okay, technically it’s a handful) and you’ll be more energized than a toddler on a sugar rush. Goodbye naps, hello spontaneous dance parties! 🎉💃

Lycopene Levels for Days: They claim high levels of lycopene—which sounds fancy enough to impress your friends at brunch. “Oh, I only consume lycopene-rich foods, darling.” 🍅✨

Made in the USA: These capsules are grown and made in the USA, so you can feel good about your health choices and support local farmers while you’re at it. USA! USA! 🇺🇸❤️

😂 Cons:

Not an Actual Veggie Replacement: Sorry, but popping these bad boys won’t magically make you a master chef. You still have to avoid burning your toast. 🍞🔥

Slightly Less Exciting than a Salad: While they save time, they definitely won’t make you the star of the next TikTok cooking trend. “Look at my vibrant plate of… uh, capsules?” 😅📸

Capsule Confusion: If you accidentally mix these with your gummy vitamins, you might end up with a very confusing daily routine. “Am I getting my calcium or just a whole lot of fruit and veggie vibes?” 🤷‍♀️🍬

In summary, the Superfood 180 Capsules are your shortcut to pretending you’re a health-conscious adult while still enjoying your guilty pleasures. So, grab a bottle, pop a few, and let the world think you’re a botanical wizard! 🧙‍♂️✨

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (5/5 - would recommend to my friends, my family, and my future self who’s still avoiding salads!)

Take a Look !!

[alittlefrenchtree]

I would like your opinion on this please 🥹 I read somewhere else that according to someone "it's bad" that Taylor hasn't had any other films in 2 years and that his agent should work harder on that one. I do not agree? I mean, in my opinion it was also a conscious choice not to make films until the release of rwrb, I highly doubt he hasn't had any kind of proposal in 2 years or been able to audition. I think the fact that in these two years he focused so much on fashion was a conscious choice to make his name known around as much as possible. If we think about it, the popularity he acquired this year when he only came out with one film is very huge, so actually they worked very well and he is perfectly perceived as an actor and model despite not having had any more projects. We know we will have something in the new year and I can't wait but in my opinion the work they are doing with him now is excellent. Am I wrong? 🥲 What do you think about it?

Hi!

I agree with you, it’s not bad at all.

First and foremost, because he’s doing whatever the fuck he wants and not what’s the Internet wants. Not working with or knowing him makes it difficult to know exactly all the how-s and why-s but if I had to guess, here are a few of my thoughts about it.

It’s good to remember that movies take FOREVER to be made between the initial talks and the final products. He could have signed or be in talks for things and we wouldn’t know about them before 6, 12 or many more months.

We also know that he had some heavy personal stuff going on in his family this year and I imagine that he dedicated time to his loved ones (and I hope to himself and his health) so he might not has been 100% through the whole year.

All of that being said, my guess is that it’s possible many of the projects/roles that were handed to him before RWRB were… not so good? First and mainly, because he’s so new at this. Also probably because having started as a model and being insanely beautiful very often don’t help to be taken seriously as an actor at first. Perhaps, also because himself didn’t feel confident enough in his acting skills to pursue roles that were actually good for him.

If he was tired of playing the dumb hot guy and wasn’t interested in the roles he could have taken and was growing more confident on his acting shoes with the roles he played in TKB2 and 3 and, obviously, becoming our lord and savior Alex Claremont-Diaz, maybe he became a bit more picky with the characters he wanted to play. I guess having other jobs prevented him from struggling for money so he would be right to be picky in my opinion.

The way his status changed over the past 6+ months has certainly opened more doors for him. Doors leading to many more projects without doubt. Most of them probably still being bad (but more numerous) because that's the way things are and he’s still relatively new even if he’s a big new now. And somewhere in the middle of all of these, there are probably a few exciting things might or might not become actual things. It’s a long and tiring process and if he’s being mature enough to take his time and not rush into the first stupid things just to publicly exist, it’s a very good sign. Having the choice to take time is a luxury for an actor and I sincerely wish that for him. It’ll be good for his career and his mental health on the long run.

Beside, the strike ended like 2 minutes ago and many actors/actresses didn’t announce new things since then so there is really nothing to be worry about for me :)

That, and for all we know, maybe he has signed for a potential sequel of a certain thing, meaning he’ll be busy for months ahead and working on other things could have been postponed for a while, if he made it a priority.

Sorry I tried to be as clear as possible but I’m not sure I’ve succeeded in writing down my feelings about it? I’ve rushed it a bit since I need to go butter some canapés and obviously everything is my very own opinion and not a statement of absolute truth but I hope it’s a decent answer to your question at the very least. 

Merry Christmas if you’re celebrating and have a lovely Sunday if you don’t 💜

[thisismysecondrodeo]

I love your wedding blurb so much BUT what about the angst of the roles being reversed? Ted is panicking and Roy or beard come to tell Keeley to let you know cause they don’t know what to do. When you do finally make it to him:

“Ted, honey what’s wrong? Do you… not want to get married? Are you having second thoughts?”

“Oh I don’t have any doubts about marrying you, of course. You’re the only thing I’m sure of most days. But I won’t lie to you darlin’ I am a tad bit nervous about being a husband again because I wasn’t all that good at it the first time.”

AN: Thank you for this request!! Now that I've finished Twitter Famous I have time to catch up on requests haha I think it turned out a little angstier than the first fic but I really liked this idea!

Rating: General

Tags: Keeley Jones, Coach Beard, Romance, Fluff, Weddings, Light Angst, Panic Attack, Happy Ending Wedding Day (OG) | Fic Masterlist

-

Ted wiggled his hips, dancing as usual to Easy Lover as he buttoned his suit pants and tried his hardest not to think. He had been looking forward to this day for an entire year since he popped the question and now that it was here he wasn’t less excited, but if he thought too hard…well, he didn’t want to think about thinking either. He wanted to get dressed and walk down the aisle and greet you with a smile on his face and tears in his eyes and he absolutely did not want to think. 

But as he tied his tie, his hands shook and his temples were sweaty and, shoot, he definitely didn’t want to have to change shirts even though he did have extras. He thought he was making good time, he thought he was totally calm, but all of a sudden he was on the floor. He didn’t know how he got there, but his back was pressed to the wall and Beard was in front of him, and Roy was in the doorway, his eyebrows furrowed, which generally wasn’t a huge concern because Roy kind of always looked like that, but now he was self-conscious. 

“I’m, uh, my shirt,” Ted tried to say but it was a hoarse whisper and Beard wasn’t sure what he was actually attempting to communicate. “God, and my hair! I just—” 

Beard was doing his best but he was at a bit of a loss and Roy, ever the stoic, was certainly no use. “Go tell Keeley to get Y/N,” Beard said, his voice quiet to try to not send Ted further into his panic, but the other man didn’t even seem to notice. 

“But they shouldn’t see each other, I tho—”

Beard wanted to yell at Roy, wanted to point at Ted and ask, “do you really think that matters right now?” But he just fixed him with a withering look and Roy scrambled to obey. 

-

Keeley tapped lightly on the door where you were getting ready. You were glad everyone was staying on-site at the venue because it made it easy to relax as you did your own hair and makeup. You didn’t have to worry about leaving at a particular time and it was ultimately comforting to know Ted was well within reach, even though you hadn’t seen him in 24 hours. 

“Yeah, come in!” 

Keeley peeked around the corner and where you expected a gleeful grin and squeal the woman’s face was set and grim. “Ted’shavingapanicattackandwethinkyoushouldgoseehim,” Keeley said in a singular breath and you only caught “Ted” and “panic attack” but that was enough to get your pulse thundering. You stood up, throwing a silky white dressing gown over your tank top and shorts that had been a gift from Rebecca at your bachelorette party. 

“Take me to him.” 

By the time you made it to Ted’s suite, he was up and drinking water and looking a little rumpled and tired but generally okay and God, you loved him. Roy and Beard looked to you immediately as Keeley let you in the room, but you had eyes only for Ted and you knew you loved him more than he did yesterday and yet less than you would tomorrow. Ted finally noticed you and turned, his one loose tendril falling into his eyes and a frustrated look on his face. 

“Y/N you didn’t have to come, I told them I was fine—”

You ignored his protests, nodding at Beard and Ted and hooking your thumb at the door, and they quickly took the hint. As soon as the door shut, you took Ted’s hands in your own, running your thumbs over his knuckles. 

“Baby, I love you so much. More than I even have words for right now, but it’s okay if you don’t want to get married. I don’t want you to send yourself into a tizzy over that,” you meant it, you’d love him forever no matter what happened, but just saying the words brought tears to your eyes. 

“Honey, honey, of course I want to marry you! Don’t you doubt that for a single second, darlin’ I’m so sorry for scarin’ ya. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and on most days you’re the only thing I’m sure of. I, uh, I guess I was just in here gettin’ ready and I realized that I was about to be a husband again…and I don’t know how good I was at that the first time.” 

You tugged Ted toward the bed in the center of the room, your back against the headboard, and pulled your future husband to rest against your chest. You rocked him gently, your hands wrapped around him and pressing into his chest. “Don’t you apologize for scaring me. I’m sorry you’re scared. But I don’t believe in ‘good husbands.’” 

You felt Ted tense in your arms and you tightened your grasp, pressing a kiss to the graying temples you loved so much. “Here me out,” you chuckled, “I don’t believe in ‘good husbands.’ I believe in two people that love each other committing to filing their taxes together forever.” Ted laughed lightly, relaxing into your hold. “I believe in taking turns doing the dishes and going to sleep angry if it means still sleeping in your arms. I believe people that love each other aren’t good husbands and good wives, they’re just good people. And, my love, you're the best person I know.” 

Ted hummed, surreptitiously wiping his eyes and covering his emotion with a cough, but he knew that you knew you’d gotten through to him. 

“You know what,” Ted said, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a kiss on your open palm. “I believe you’re right.” 

“See, that’ll get you halfway there already,” you teased, kissing his ear and neck and he tilted his head to give you more space. You grinned, “I believe this part comes later. After I commit to living happily ever after with the love of my life.” 

Ted groaned playfully, but sat up and pulled you with him, “well we oughta get to gettin’ then, shouldn’t we?”

<- Wedding Day OG

[armpirate]

UNDER HIS SKIN || JJK || Ch. 18

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: They say there are two versions for every story, and it's important to hear both of them. Everybody is hearing your side of the story, but it's just fair to get to know his.

After breaking up with his girlfriend, the only thing he wanted was to have fun with no attachment. You wanted to get rid of your virginity, and he wanted to tick you off his list. What he didn't expect was getting so emotionally attached to you that he would regret the deal.

Warnings: Oral sex (Female and male receiving), dirty talk.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

I park my motorbike near the entrance, placing the stand properly so I can make my way inside with no worries. Although, as soon as I cross the door, Brooke opens her eyes wide, fixing them on my hair.

—New look? —she teases me.

—Hmm —I nod—. Bad decisions you take at shit something in the night —I take a seat at one of the stools over the counter—. I'll probably tint it back to black soon.

—What can I get you? —she raises her eyebrow, while both of her hands rest on the surface and her body bends slightly.

I know perfectly what she's trying to do, leaning slightly so I can see her cleavage. Although my eyes never meet the flesh under her collarbone -actually, my eyes barely land on her as I ask her for a beer.

—Is Tae around? —I move around, trying to look for him myself.

—He left earlier today —she answers, as she serves my drink in front of me—. He said he was tired, and I think he also had a headache, so I'm by myself today. A little help would be fine —she was back at it again—. And since you seem to be spending so much time here lately, maybe you could join the team.

—Sure... I have nothing better to do —I mutter, holding the cold glass.

To be fair, I'm not sure why I've been coming here so often lately. Months ago, I didn't really mind it. I'd come only to pick Tae up, but I wouldn't even bother on getting inside. And I genuinely wonder if it was because I was up to no good back then, and not coming inside was a way to control myself and not ruin something Tae worked so hard for.

I think I ruined his plans enough back in Seoul, to repeat the same thing in New York...

I remember I tried to hold myself back like crazy on not trying to get inside Brooke's pants the first day I met her -and I'm aware of how hard it'd have been for Taehyung to find a waitress at her level if things had gone wrong between us, which would've been the case back then. Although, looking at her now, I can't understand why I was trying to hold back so badly. She really ain't anything special. She's hot and such, but yeah... Not a girl that could drive me insane with just a look. And definitely not someone I would ever plan to settle down with. Not because of anything especially, but whatever attraction I ever had for her only was always reduced to that type of attraction you have with someone random you meet in a bar.

Although flirting with her was fun, and exciting, it stopped being like that at some point, for whatever reason.

—Do you have any plans tonight? —Brooke asks.

—Yeah —I nod.

Sitting here, thinking Y/n could message me at any point to ask for support and help -in case she doesn't know how to do well on her date- is tonight's plan. I could be doing anything, yet here I am.

—Oh, I thought you were free —she giggles—. I was thinking that maybe we could hang out when I'm off...

Although I hear her, I'm too focused on my phone and the possible text I could get to be conscious enough to reply back. I shouldn't even help Y/n if she sends me a text. It's her date, and she should learn on her own with her mistakes. Why would I even need to help?

—Kook? —she calls my name.

—Hmm? —I finally look at her again— Sorry, I'm waiting for a text.

Brooke is almost going to speak, but she gets interrupted by a customer that seems to want to pay for her drink. My eyes go back to the drinks in front of me, filled with all the brands of alcohol that Tae likes. All of them top notch, and that's exactly why I always end up ordering a beer whenever I come.

I feel a vibration on the counter, although at first I think it could be a false alarm, like the other times I've checked my phone when it was actually somebody else's. Although this time, it's indeed my phone.

Cocktease: U awake?

I'm confused by her text. But it makes sense that she's asking that, Y/n didn't know I'd be out and about waiting for a text from her, while trying not to think of her flirting with a random guy she met on Tinder.

Me: Yeah

Me: What you up to

Cocktease: Tryin to get a cab

I frown at her reply. That date was shorter than what I expected. While I thought our conversation would evolve to a list of do's and don'ts, it ends up with me cutting it to get her location.

Me: Ill pick u up. Send location

It seems like the worst timing, too. Because right when Brooke is done with her customer, I get up from the stool and pay for my beer.

—I'll get going.

And I don't say anything else, as I make my way outside, trying to walk through the people that are reunited at the corner of the counter and the rest of people that are trying to sneak inside of the pub.

Y/n isn't too far from where I am, so I shouldn't take too long to get there and pick her up.

I park the motorbike somewhere near the place she sent me, and I look around trying to find her somewhere among all those people. Until I finally find her. She keeps checking her phone, something that makes me smile unconsciously.

She might be waiting for me.

Although I can feel my smile dropping when a guy taller than her stops near her. I guess it's the man she had that date with, because she smiles at him and replies back to what he says. I could wait. Maybe I should wait, and the next thing I'll be getting is a text from her to let me know she found a way to get back home.

Yeah... No.

I start walking to them, getting close enough to hear part of their conversation.

—Do you need a ride back home? —he suggests— I want to make up for what happened.

For what happened?

That makes me start walking faster, trying my hardest to calm myself down. I don't know what happened, so I have no reason to get angry at him.

—Don't worry —I see her shrugging

—It's not a bother for me, seriously —he insists, leaning a bit towards her.

—Shall we go? —I interrupt them, as I stop in front of them.

Y/n's big eyes land on me, surprised to see me -even if she was the one who sent me a text so I could pick her up.

—Yeah —she turns to him again—. Get back home safe.

—Can I text you again?

I hide a scoff when he drops those words, in the most desperate tone I've ever heard in my life.

—You better not —I answer for her, earning a frown from him.

Unconsciously, I wrap my fingers around her wrist, and pull from her body so we both can start walking to my motorbike. Was I too possessive of her, maybe?

—You don't even know what he did —she whispers, when we are far enough.

Of course she's going to play the devil's advocate and justify whatever crap he did back there.

—I don't need to know —I let go of her, stopping next to my back—. But if that shithead did something he needs to make up for, that's enough information.

And he should be thankful I'm not a violent person.

When I say that, I can see a glimpse of a tiny smile from her. But I don't annoy her with that, it's better to let her think I wasn't aware of how much she actually liked to hear that. Because I don't want to acknowledge how much I liked her reaction.

She hugs to my body when she gets on the bike, wrapping her arms around me tight as she lets me take the lead. At first I think of taking her home, and leaving everything there.

But what if that asshole tries to message her again? I know she wouldn't be "allowed" by the deal, but do we actually care about it that much?

It's not like we signed a professional contract, so she's still free to do whatever the fuck she wants.

That thought is even worse, because it only makes the possibility of her retaking a conversation with him bigger.

—I thought you were going to take me home —she mentions, confused, when I start in front of the garage door.

—My place was nearer —I lie—. You can stay the night —I turn my head slightly, looking at her over my shoulder—. Unless you want me to take you home.

And if that's what Y/n wants, I'll leave her there without a problem. Although it's a relief to see her shaking her head, as she smiles shyly while leaning over my shoulder.

—Where's the truck? —she questions, once she hops off the motorbike.

—It's Soo's actually —I answer, after I'm done putting everything into place—. Well, we share it.

More like I only use it when I have to do something for Mark or Soo.

—And what were you doing when I texted you?

Waiting for that text...

But I can't say that.

—The date made you so nosy all of sudden?

Y/n stops, genuinely thinking I was pissed by her question. So I try to find a way to show her I wasn't bothered at all by it, in a way that looks natural enough so it doesn't really seem like I'm desperately trying to comfort her. I hold her hand, not feeling a tight grip around it until a few seconds after -when she's finally aware.

I don't seem to be fully aware of what i'm doing myself until I see our reflection on the elevator's mirror. And that dumb smile on my face that her tight grip caused.

Both standing at each side of the metallic cubicle, we're preparing to an uncomfortable silence -that I can't seem to allow from happening, while my head keeps spinning around what her date told her before I interrupted them.

—What did he have to make up for?

—I thought you didn't want to know —she replied back, crossing her arms over her chest.

—I didn't want to make a scene —I support my back against the wall—. But depending on what he did, I won't hesitate to go back and break his nose.

—I handled it pretty well myself, thank you —that's not an answer, and she knows it—. Well... It was nothing. He just said he doesn't want to be teaching his significant other how to do things.

I shake my head, and breathe deeply as I try to think of what she's just told me. He doesn't want to teach her things? I bet it's not that that he doesn't want to, but he directly doesn't have a fucking idea of what to actually do right. And if he said that, it probably means she told him she's a virgin? And he still managed to shame her for that.

Dumb ass.

—Purple looks good on you —she points out.

I know she's trying to distract me from what she's just said. She's probably afraid I'll end up going back to the restaurant and teach him how my knuckles feel against his mouth. Either way, it seems to be working out, because I look at myself in the mirror, before I look back at her.

—You should keep it a little longer.

Should I?

I don't really say a word when he get to my place, I just head straight to my room to get some clothes for her and hand them to her.

When Y/n comes back, she looks so sweet and cute with her figure hidden under all those baggy clothes. I really can't understand how someone would plan to ruin a date, just by being an asshole to somebody.

—I can't believe he really thought he stood a chance with you, to the point of saying that to you —I say out of nowhere, breaking the silence after she sat next to me on the couch.

I've tried to hold it in, but I just can't.

—I fucking knew you would be on that still —Y/n sighs.

—How could I not? He acted as if he were the big thing, and I'm sure he doesn't even know where his own cock is.

—Why do you care so much, anyway? I'm not seeing him again, so why make all this fuss about it? —she looks at me confused.

—He just saw you as a piece of meat to fuck.

—Isn't that what Tinder is for? —she questions back.

She doesn't say anything else after that question, but I can feel some words are stuck in her throat. She just doesn't say them. Instead, she waits a bit before she speaks again with a more calm tone.

—I'm a virgin, not dumb —she chuckles—. I know what to expect from someone I barely talked to on Tinder, and it's not like I went on that date to find the love of my life. What he said pissed me off, but he apologized. Now, can we move on from this?

Letting out a heavy breath, I move my eyes away from her, just so I can be able to think straight and ease my mind. But I don't last too long without looking at her. And it's a fact that there's something that always pulls me to her. Y/n turns to me as well, as soon as she's aware of my gaze.

—What? —she finally asks.

I look at each detail on her face, lost in trying to memorize each centimeter on it before my eyes fall on her lips.

—I'm just looking at you —I answer, looking back up into her eyes.

—I know, but why?

—Just because —I shrug.

My eyes fall back to her lips when I notice the way she slides the tip of her tongue through them, before she slightly bites them.

—Just because? —she teases me, although the question leaves her mouth with a doubtful tone.

Her lips pout slightly with anticipation, as if she were letting her inner thoughts get a tiny bit of control over her body.

And it's the hint I take to lean over her, linking her lips to mine with no foreplay, no rubbing beforehand, no teasing. Although the kiss isn't enough, I want to feel her closer. With one hand on her cheek, and the other on her waist, I pull her closer to me, until I'm able to feel her rushing heartbeat against my chest.

I'm not able to think straight just by being able to taste her, sliding my tongue in between her lips. And my mind gets filled with thick clouds when her fingers dare to dig inside the collar of my t-shirt, while her fingertips send goosebumps all over my body.

I want to feel her everywhere. I want to get all of her right now.

—I want you so bad —I break the kiss.

Although that comment seems to only encourage her more, and I'm surprised when she takes the lead and stands up. I follow her, just to be caught up in another kiss that will make us stumble all over my place until we reach my room. And the only time we decide to break it, it's because we keep tearing each other's clothes apart.

Y/n grinds her hips against mine, the rough touch of our crotches makes my dick twitch inside my boxers. And I'm afraid I won't be able to go on a little further if she keeps doing that.

She's a fucking menace. Time to switch roles.

I break the kiss again, rubbing my lips on hers, only breathing the air she's exhaling, as my forehead rests on hers. My hands move up all over her body, sliding on her back and making her arch it in consequence. Y/n keeps trying to help me with everything, but it's time for her to enjoy it, while I have my way with her. So every time she tries to sit to help me with something, I push her softly back on the bed.

—Just relax and enjoy —I place a kiss on her collarbone—. I'll make you feel good.

It's the only thing I want right now.

My body can't seem to wait to feel her body squirm, and see her face tinted with pleasure. I lean over her breasts, taking no time to lick her hard nipple, feeling the rugosity of it fighting against the wetness of my tongue. Her breath turns heavy with every kiss, lick and suck I give her. Her hands hold her sheets hard when my lips close around the hard bud, and a gasp leaves her mouth when I set it free, just to go back to the other. Arousal builds over her so desperately that she tries to grind against me again, but I put her back in place by holding her hips against the mattress.

She looks so beautiful like this. Impatient and needy.

I keep going down her body, kissing each centimeter that's available for me, tracing the line of her panties with my lips when I finally get there. I keep going down, letting the smell of her arousal intoxicate me, and making my dick twitch again in my boxers.

Y/n looks nervous and uneasy when she's aware of what I'm about to do, but I still can see how bad she wants this. It's in the way she bites her lips, and how she unconsciously spreads her legs a bit wider to give me more room.

—Move your hips up for me —I whisper, when my fingers tangle on the elastic of her underwear.

She does it with no hesitation, lifting her hips up enough to help me get rid of the only piece of fabric that's covering her now. When I look back at her again, I have to keep myself together and not jump on her like an animal. Her messy hair spread all over my pillows, her hard nipples shining under the intimate lights of my lamps, her shaky breath and the way her thighs are almost closing must be the best image I've had of someone in a long time.

—Do you want to stop? —I ask her.

Her answer isn't formed with words, but with actions. Y/n spreads her thighs a bit wider, inviting me between them. Her glistening pussy is almost screaming at me to dig my lips in her slit, but I hold back. I taste her, all the way from her knee to her inner thigh, ignoring her core to do the same thing with her other leg.

—Eyes on me all the time —I warn her, stopping on her soft mons.

For some reason, she always has problems whenever she gets too lost in the moment to close her eyes. If I want her to enjoy this, I think the best would be to direct her not to close them now.

Both of my hands hold to her thighs, while my lips spread kisses around her pussy. When I finally fix my eyes on it, I can see it glistening right in front of me, slightly clenching around nothing. I feel like a wild animal right now.

—You're so wet for me —I groan.

I slid my tongue through her slit, from her entrance I make my way up with the tip, collecting all of her juices. The metallic taste makes me eager for more as soon as they hit my taste buds. It's the best action-reaction effect.

When I finally find her clit, I spread her lips with two of my fingers, making it easier to tease her needy bud, while moving my tongue up and down. She gasps in relief when she first feels my tongue, but the moment she moans... She couldn't have done anything worse.

I attempt to slide my finger inside her tight channel, but I move my head lower so my tongue invades her. Her walls welcome me, and I can feel every reaction, everything she might want to hide, directly on my tongue. I keep moving it, slowly in circles and up and down, at the same time I move my head so my nose can rub against her clit.

Her legs tense on my finger and around my head. And when I open my eyes, I can see that she's looking at each one of my moves -just like I told her to do. And she only makes that image better when one of her hands reaches to my hair, grabbing some of my locks to keep me tight against her.

—Please, make me cum —she begs in a moan.

Fuck, I need to give her everything.

Two fingers slide into her, at the same time my mouth moves back to her clit. I barely give her time to feel empty, nor to think about anything -in general. I move my fingers up and down, finding the padded spot that makes her squirm and tremble, while my mouth and tongue keep sucking and licking her clit.

Her hips grind against my mouth and her pussy clenches so tight around my fingers, that it seems like she wants to suck them in, before she finally explodes with a loud and long moan.

I slowly give her time to get it back together, before I take my fingers out carefully and crawl over her body again, just to end up lying next to her. Although when I try to kiss her lips, she moves up and kneels next to me.

—Don't look at me like that —she smiles at me—. It's my turn to make you feel good.

I'd be lying if I say I don't want this. I'd be a huge liar if I said this wasn't the image I cummed way too many times.

She's more inexperienced than what I had up in my imagination, which makes total sense. Her moves are clumsy and insecure, as she tries to think how to take my boxers off, or how she should start. Although she starts good, making my cock shrink in the air while she spreads kisses all over my thighs until she's way too close to my crotch.

And fuck, the way she looks at me right now, as her hand wraps around my shaft... She's a fucking menace. I don't care how inexperienced she is.

Her shy and nervous dry kisses, and kitty licks on my length, turn to sensual and slow circles on my already wet tip. And I almost lose it when the warmth of her mouth closes around it, and starts taking me in slowly.

I press my lips tight, feeling her mouth closing more around me and moving faster on my cock, bombing her head perfectly fine. But after three or four times, I feel uncomfortable, like something's scraping my skin down there.

If I don't stop her, this is going to hurt.

—Babe, you're gonna suck me raw —I move her hair away from her face, after I've placed a hand on her arm—. Try doing this.

Trying to teach her how to do it, I cover my teeth with my lips. And, after she nods, I guide her back to my cock. And doesn't it feel good... Every time she moves, she tries to take my cock a bit deeper, which ends up with my tip rubbing against her throat and her gagging on my cock. I'm not even able to look at her right now, it'd be too much.

She is indeed a menace.

—Don't be shy —she teases me, hands working on my cock, as soon as she's aware that I'm trying to hold back—. Let me hear you.

If she learns more things, she'll definitely be the death of me.

The combination of her mouth with her hands, the wet sounds she makes, and how she makes me feel... I feel that hot sensation building up inside, like a volcano that's close to exploding. I think if I don't stop her, I'd end up doing something she doesn't like.

—Babe, stop —I say, trying to push her away. —. Please...

But that doesn't stop her, it only encourages Y/n to go as hard and fast as she's able to. And I'm not able to control my body, nor to be aware of what I'm doing, until it's way too late. Until I feel some of my own load dripping from her mouth, and rolling down my still hard cock, while I see her throat moving after she's swallowed the rest.

—Come here —I say, closing my eyes, while I extend one of my arms to hug her—. This is the hardest I've ever cummed since I met you.

A light weight covers my forearm, and the warmth radiating from her body makes me feel at ease after everything that's happened tonight.

It makes me feel like I won't be able to sleep right if she isn't here.

—Let's sleep —I whisper, knowing perfectly fine what that means..

Her cheeks rise, as she smiles wide against my skin, and moves next to me so she can wrap an arm around my body and hug me, keeping me close to her body.

[sweethartlullaby]

you, among the art ii

word count: 792 genre/theme: fluff and angst later, sculpting series, graduate student and her professor/supervisor, female and male pairing as always, imagine whoever you would like... find part iii here sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist

It’s her first day. 

He spent about thirty minutes trying to pick out the perfect shirt this morning. Ever since the last end-of-year meeting, he has been very conscious of his fashion choices. 

You’re already on such thin ice; try not to look like you hate it here.

He’s wearing a white shirt today, one his mother bought for him when he went home this summer. As fall approaches, he lets himself breathe. The air gently floats into the room, wrapping him with comfort. With the windows open, he leaves the cardigan hugging the chair. 

He has been creating sketches in his notebook, finding things to fix even though he doesn’t need to. He can’t let himself sit idle. He has to stop himself from checking the time. With every tick of the wall clock, he grows even more nervous. He’s also a man of tea so the unusual cup of coffee today has his fingers shaking and his heart beating in his ears. 

One minute before the scheduled time, he hears a knock on his door. He turns to see her head poking inside, searching the room until her eyes finally fall on him. All of a sudden, he feels so small. 

“Oh, hello.” She says and smiles a little before she lets herself in. Her hair is in a low ponytail, and her light blue shirt sleeves are up to her elbows. Her dark pants almost hide the smudges of clay, but not well enough to his trained eye. 

He studies her for a moment too long before he realizes he is supposed to speak. 

“Uhm, hello.” He says. She stays by the door and all he can think about is that she is going to make a run for it any second now.

“Well,” She squeaks out before she clears her throat.

“Sorry, I’m not usually this nervous.”

“Do I scare you?” He says, half-joking. 

“Oh, gosh no!” She finally steps closer to him. 

“If I’m so scared of you, I wouldn’t be here.” She explains as she looks at his desk, a clutter of paper and ink. 

“Are these your upcoming projects?” She asks, keeping her hands behind her back. He hesitates. How does he tell her he was such a nervous wreck that he took it out on his sketchbook? When he takes too long to answer, she speaks.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to pry. I just-”

“They’re just ideas.” He says and he fights the urge to cringe at the way he says it. It’s always been a bad habit. The nerves make him cold and uninterested. It is probably why he barely speaks to anyone at gatherings.

“Oh.” She steps away from the table as if she crossed the line.

The coffee isn’t helping. He’s too freaked out to think of what to say. Should he apologize? Should he tell her it’s okay? He stands frozen, his tongue trying to push the words out. It takes him another two minutes of silence before he finally blurts out letters that he hopes form into words.

“Why not…I mean, why don’t you tell me about your…project?” He takes his cup into his hands to hide their trembling before he leans onto the window frame and watches her. 

“Right! So, as you know…” She gets closer again and uses her hands to explain her vision. He doesn’t ask a lot. She seems to know what she’s doing. She knows what she wants. Her vision is tremendous and creative and he can’t help but watch in awe as passion pours out of her.

It’s in the way she speaks about her work. It’s in the way she moves as she describes it. It’s almost as if he can see exactly what she means. 

“I understand that the final project may not even be tied to Black Swan but that’s actually what I am going for. I want even more fear and anguish than was shown. I want to capture so much in just one statue. It’s…” She exhales before she finally looks at him again. 

“It’s a lot, I know. But…I’m excited.” The corners of her lips turn up into a small smile. It’s refreshing, to see someone so in love in this field again. It almost reminds him of why he is here in the first place. 

“I think…it’s going to be amazing.” He says slowly. He’s never been the greatest with words, but that’s why he’s a sculptor. There’s much more for him to show than to say.

“I really look forward to working with you.” He brings his hand out and when she doesn’t take it immediately, he almost pulls it back. But then she grips him and gives him a firm shake.

“Me too.”

a/n: hellooo!! this is part two of the sculpting series. i'm soooo sorry if it sounds so choppy i honestly dk whats wrong with me. but i will try write better for the next parts!! i'm uploading a part iii right after this one since this is a bit short. i hope you enjoyed and i'd love to hear what you guys thought about it (pls be nice), who you imagined, and any songs that came into mind!

[bbcphile]

For the WIP title game - I would love to hear about "FDB 5+1"

Also I am 👀 about "DFS and LLH talk (finally)" - I guess it's against the rules to ask about more than one, just wanted you to know lol

(and thank you for tagging me!)

Hi! Thanks for the ask!

The FDB 5+1 fic is a "5 times DFS and FDB failed to share a bed and one time they did" fic that starts from the first night they're supposed to share the guest room and covers the entire show up through the end of the special episode (so I guess it will actually be more like a 5 +1 (+1 special episode HE)).

I was really interested in the ways DFS (as a-Fei) says he doesn't sleep in unfamiliar places and the fact that he'd probably feel particularly hypervigilant in his early Lotus Tower days without access to his qi because of the Asura grass, and how that would interact with him having to share a bed with someone (especially someone who is not used to having to share because of being a rich young master). And having FDB be the POV character makes it almost an outsider POV situation for the opening sections (even though he's one of the two people involved in the bedsharing), because he has no idea what's happening in a-Fei's mind and he's observing a-Fei's interactions with LLH and being very confused about their history, and I'm excited about having him stop being an outsider POV as he learns more about their history and grows closer with DFS. And the premise enables FDB to run through the full emotional gamut (especially during the section where LLH is missing), and I'm looking forward to the writing challenges it will pose. The early sections are outlined in a lot of detail (including having most of the relevant dialogue), but the later bits are just a very rough sketch of what will happen, when it takes place, and the themes/emotional beats I want to hit. I'm planning on playing with it more after I've made more progress on my MLC long fic. :D

And for "LLH and DFS talk (finally)," that's the file name for chapter 9 of my MLC long fic, where LLH is finally conscious and medically stable enough for conversations, and they have to work through some BIG misunderstandings (eg. what the reunion duel meant for each of them, what the wangchuan flower meant to each of them, why the hell LLH was planning on attending the duel if he was mostly dead and a single blow would do him in and how mad DFS is about that, etc.) It's a fun writing challenge, because neither of them has much experience communicating openly (LLH is as allergic to honesty as he used to be to peanuts and DFS doesn't like disclosing information unless he has a fully completed plan), but DFS is mad, hurt, and desperate for LLH to live, and since he's realized that at least trying to explain his side is necessary to LLH's continued survival, he's going to do it even if he hates every minute of it, since he refuses to back down from a challenge, especially if it will help LLH.

[homemade-ghosts]

PWs always want to bring up that Ricky made Gina cry and didn't prioritize her in Season 2 and to some degree they're correct but it's clear that it was unintentional. They completely omit that EJ intentionally cancelled his risotto date with Gina in the S2 Finale because Jamie relayed false information to EJ that Gina liked EJ "like a brother" without even telling her why he cancelled. smh Ricky either prioritizes Nini (his gf) and not Gina or he prioritizes Gina over his girlfriend Nini.

Ricky really can’t win with #them. If he spent time with Gina, they’d say he was being a bad boyfriend to Nini — but if he didn’t pay enough attention to Gina, if he tried to soften what they have into something platonic (keyword is “tried”, that obviously didn’t work lol) because he’s doing his best to make things work with his, at the time, literal girlfriend, then “Gina deserves better.” and “he doesn’t care about her.” The textbook definition of “damned if you do, damned if you don’t.” (or at least it would be, if there’s a textbook that defines that phrase, somewhere out there).

Also, I’m about as tired of the “Ricky made Gina cry” argument as I am of the “Gina’s not Ricky’s first choice” argument. Ricky, like you mentioned, never intentionally made Gina cry. She didn’t cry because she felt Ricky was treating her badly or because he said or did anything in particular to her that made her upset. 

Ricky didn’t make her cry, she cried because Ricky had a girlfriend. She cried because the boy she liked, the one she felt so inexplicably connected to, was with someone and that someone wasn’t her — but her sadness didn’t stem entirely from Ricky’s relationship with Nini, either. She was also a kid living without her mom (her only close family member and, up until recently, the only constant in her life) in someone else’s house, in someone else’s room.

& on top of that, the people Gina chose to stay for, the first solid friend group she’s probably ever had, repeatedly took advantage of her kindness. Gina was guilted into auditioning for BATB with Ashlyn & Kourtney (despite the fact that she had planned & prepared for a solo audition) and, as a result, was cast in a small supporting role that she didn’t want. Carlos appointed Gina his co-choreographer, but he let her give up a dance she clearly worked very hard on in favor of his own routine without any hesitation, even after she confided in him about how much she’d been struggling since she got back to East High. He knew she needed a win and he didn’t give it to her. 

There are aspects of s2 that, in retrospect, look a lot better post-s3, but the way Gina’s friends treated her was not one of them. 

My point, though, is that Gina was left without a mom, without a home or room of her own, stuck sharing choreography duties while playing a feather duster. Gina had nothing that was just her’s. She had sacrificed so much and she wasn’t getting anything back. So, while Gina may have cried over having to see Ricky with Nini, over feeling like she couldn’t connect with him as freely as she once did now that he had a girlfriend (because she knew that their relationship naturally had a romantic undertone to it and, for the first time since they met, Gina had to be careful with that) it was never just about that.

& you’re right about EJ. When Gina cried over Ricky it was (sorry for repeating myself) primarily because it broke her heart to see him with someone else, but when she cried over EJ it was because what he did/said to her, directly, made her upset. He sees how excited Gina is for their date, and still he cancels, without offering so much as a simple explanation. &, when they’re actually together, he makes her (rightfully) pissed off by keeping secrets from her, despite the fact that she made a conscious effort not to keep anything from him. Then, he makes her feel unseen & unwanted, like a “maybe,” to the point where she breaks up with him and leaves Prom, a dance she was so excited to go to, with shaky breaths and teary eyes. (& who followed her out as she fled and asked if she was okay? Who was there to pick up the pieces — literally — while she cried at coat check? I’ll give you a hint, it sure as hell wasn’t EJ.)