#god i wanted to draw this before it aired but i have No Motivation so here is a text post

[weirdbabs]

laszlo, arms wide with a baby colin strapped to his chest: nadja! darling! how did you and gizmo enjoy my homeland?

nadja, staring at the baby colin: ??????? laszlo what the SHIT??? AGAIN????

[frantic-fiction]

Shattered Glass 18+

(Gif: leopardmuffinxo)

Astarion x f!reader

Summary: Astarion finally makes do on a promise.

This is part 2 of Secluded Evening. (Could be read as a stand alone)

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, oral fem receiving, PnV sex, unprotected sex, biting (of course) Astarion being a lovesick fool

Word count: 2.6k

Astarion threw another log on the fire; a flurry of embers took flight, dancing in the cold night air. The rest of the camp had already settled in their tents. You were nestled between his knees about five feet away from the flames. A throw blanket cascaded down your shoulders—a notebook on your lap. 

He studies the rapid strokes of your hand from over your shoulder. The rough lines of charcoal were blooming into an identical copy of Laz'eal. Astarion pulled a strand of hair away from your eyes and began to weave your locks into a simple braid. He doesn't have a hair tie, and knowing you, you've lost yours. So, he twists the pieces, and once done let's go, kissing the crown of your head. 

You barely acknowledge him, and when you suddenly shove the pencil over your shoulder, Astarion chuckles, taking it from you. He watches you begin smudging the charcoal with the pad of your finger. You're adorable when your art consumes you. Every time, it captivates Astarion.

This was how most of your nights were spent. Not always precisely like this; sometimes Astarion brought a book, and sometimes your hand got too sore to draw, so Astarion read to you as you curled on his lap. But as long as it was spent in each other's company neither of you cared much for the activity.

Astarion adored these nights the most, primarily because he could feast his eyes on your beauty without you shying away or throwing a stupid joke at him to break the tension. You were perfect in every way, and when he opened his heart briefly and confessed the broken pieces of himself and the motivations that led him to you. All you did was look at him with unspoken love and hugged him. 

Your relationship became something more after that. Sex was not what drew the two of you together. For the first time in 200 years, Astarion had someone he trusted with his every sense of the word. Someone who wanted more than his body and showed their love for him without words. Someone he wanted to spend every moment of his life with despite the fear that thought causes him. 

Astarion thinks he loves you but can't find the words when his mouth opens. He's always struggled with expressing his true feelings, but he wants to try with you. He wants to bear his heart to you and show you all that you mean to him. And with all the trust you and Astarion have established, one thing has become a very big problem. 

You have begun to treat Astarion like glass, as if one sexual touch will break him. And frankly, it's pissing him off. Astarion finally has complete control over his body and a partner who he trusts. A partner that can bring him to his knees with a simple giggle and to put it bluntly, gods you were fucking sexy. 

He's frustrated, horny, and has no idea how to ask for anything he wants. And for fucks sake, if he wakes from a meditation to have you grinding against his erection again, he just might explode.

In his frustrated musing, he didn't notice that you had placed your sketch pad away. He only noticed when you cupped his jaw and moved his eyes to meet yours. "What are you thinking about, handsome?"

It takes a moment for Astarion to collect himself as he stares at your soft smile. "I was thinking it's about time we get you, my sweet, to bed," he pecks your lips before grabbing your wrist and entwining your fingers. You nod and press a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

Astarion holds the flap open, and you duck inside. Kicking your pants off and into the corner, you unceremoniously plop down into the pile of cushions. You began sharing a tent in the shadow curse lands. Astarion found out pretty early on that nightmares of Cazador were less likely when you were in his arms. And thankfully, you slept better, too. 

You prop yourself on your elbows and silently watch Astarion move about the small space, removing his outer clothing. He seemed to be stalling, almost like he was silently debating with himself. Astarion is in his underwear when he seems to come to a conclusion. He takes a deep breath and moves towards you. Kneeling by your feet, you watch as Astarion hesitates, his hand resting softly on your shin. Hesitation is soon replaced with a devilish smirk that stretches across his lips.

"Whatcha thinking about pretty boy?" 

Astarion doesn't say anything, just slowly begins to crawl up your body before capturing you in a breathtaking kiss. His knee is between your legs; your hands are around his neck, pulling him flush against your body. You sigh softly into his mouth, moving your hands to caress his cheekbone.

He tongues the seam of your lips, and you are quick to gasp, giving him access to lick deeper. Astarion's hands are caressing up and down your curves, cupping your breast and tugging the metal bars of your nipple rings. His mouth moves to your throat, sucking hard at your jugular. 

"W-wait!" You choke out, causing the elf above you to freeze. He's quick to remove himself from you, putting some distance between your bodies. 

"Shit, did…did I do something wrong?" Astarion's voice cracks; you've never heard him so unsure of himself. You pant hard but are quick to sit up and fall into Astarion's lap, his arms instinctually wrapping around your waist.

"No, gods no," you sigh, cupping his jaw and pressing your forehead against his. The tension in Astarion's shoulders drops, and he squeezes you a bit harder.

"Then what is it, my sweet?"

That has you pausing to figure out the best way to say this. "What was your plan?" Shit, that didn't sound good

"My plan! Are you serious?" He's already pulling away, shutting off completely when you pull him back tightly.

"No! Th-that's fuck, that's not what I meant, Star," at least he's not trying to run, but he's as stiff as ever. "Astarion, I will be as blunt as possible because I care about you. Were you trying to have sex with me because you felt obligated?"

This isn't what Astarion expected you to say because he can't mask the look of surprise. He opens his mouth to speak before clamping it shut. He does this twice more, but you don't rush him, you push stray curls behind his ear and wait. 

"No." His voice is small. He clears his throat before speaking again, stronger this time. "No, I want this, and I would appreciate you stop treating me like fucking glass."

“What?”

You're flipped over, and suddenly, on your back, Astarion's body pressed closely against yours. He ruts against you. His cock was hard, feeling painfully constricted in his underwear. "I appreciate your patience with me, darling, but I need to clarify one thing to you right now."

Astarion licks a long stripe up your collarbone, ending just under your ear. You moan softly, trying desperately to roll your hips up into Astarion. "I have never wanted someone more than I wanted you. So, if it's okay with you, my sweet, I'm going to take the rest of our clothes off, and you're going to finally let me feast upon the sweetness between your legs."

You whine and buck, trying to get anything from Astarion's unmoving body. "Tsk, no, no, my sweet. Use your words." He purred, nipping your ear.

"Please! Yes! Oh gods, Astarion," 

Once the words leave your lips, you're tearing at each other's clothes in desperation. After you are both fully undressed, Astarion shoves you back onto the cushions. You expect him to pounce but he hovers staring down at your naked body.

Astarion's deft fingers grab your foot, and he presses a soft kiss to your inner ankle. A pang of heat flared through your lower abdomen. He kisses up to the top of your calf before giving a playful bite. You release a soft yelp, and Astarions lavishes the bite with his tongue. He slowly moves up to your inner thigh, leaving various bruises in his wake.

 You're gasping as he ghosted over the spot you wanted him most. His breath fans over your dripping cunt, and you swear he's about to give you what you want. Then he kisses you. Just one small peck on the public area just above your clit, before he retreats. You cry, and one of your hands card into Astarion's white locks. 

“No! Please!”

 He begins the same slow ascent up your other leg, paying just as much attention. "Now, as much as I love those beautiful noises you make for me. Remember that our camp members are trying to sleep; you can be a good girl for me, right?" He gazes up between your parted legs, and you nod and swear if he asked at this moment, you would have given him anything.

"I thought so," Astarion purred before licking up the entire length of your pussy. You moan out and swiftly clap your hand over your mouth. Then suddenly Astarion is a man starved.

His hand grips the underside of your thighs hard and pulls you down the bed as close as physically possible. He sucks, and licks, piercing his tongue sloppily at your dripping cunt, and you're a mess of pleasure. Your grind against Astarion's face, his nose rubbing beautifully against your clit. If it weren't for Astarion's hands keeping your thighs parted, you probably would be crushing his head in your desperation.

A low groan rumbles from Astarion's chest, and he focuses his attention, sucking tightly on the bundle of nerves. He slips his first and middle finger into your cunt and curls up, causing you to gasp for air. 

"S-star…oh gods!" You cried, and he was ruthless with his assault. Astarion pumped his fingers quickly, the sloppy sounds of his mouth mixed with your muffled moan. Your stomach was coiling with pleasure, and you were embarrassed with how fast Astarion was picking you apart. "I'm close." you whimper, rolling your hips against his face. 

Astarion, after a moment, releases your clit. Still pumping you with his fingers, he looks up at you, chin glistening with your arousal, a smug grin lazily plaster on his lips. "Come for me, love, be a good girl."

With the last few slips of his fingers, the coil snaps, and you're falling apart. Eyes unfocused, muscled tight, the silent gasp of ecstasy stuck in your throat. Astarion watches in amazement and arousal as you come apart so thoroughly with just his mouth and fingers. His cock is aching pre, now dribbling down the shaft. 

Once your orgasm slows, you feel the immense need for more. And with Astarion still nestled between your legs, it has you moving without thought. You push Astarion back and plant yourself on his lap. You mash your mouth against him, chasing the taste of yourself on his tongue. 

Astarion groans and cups the back of your head, deepening the kiss. Your palms roam down his chest, smoothing down his abs until you come to his neglected cock. It's swollen and red, and when you grip it softly, Astarions hisses into your mouth, bucking into your palm. 

Smearing the pre-come around, you slowly work your hand up and down Astarion's dick in long, languid strokes. His eyes glaze over, and he moans, head dropping to your shoulder. Astarion's cold hands fondled your breast, and he leaned down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. He pulls the metal piercing softly with his teeth. 

You whine and tug on a fist full of Astarion's hair, rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock. "Fuck, darling." Astarion moans, moving to give your other breast equal attention. Your positive marks will be littering your body for days following. And the thought alone causes you to clench your thighs. 

You pump your hand faster, and Astarion meets everyone with thrusts of his hips. He claims your lips again in a sloppy dance of wet tongues. Then suddenly Astarion stills your hand.

"If you keep this up, I'm not going to last much longer." Astarion's pants, nudging your nose with his.

"Isn't that kinda the point, handsome?"

"Not if I want to come apart feeling you clenching around me," Astarion's voice is breathless, and you moan at the thought. He kisses your cheek, then your jaw. Trailing his way to your neck. "Would you like that, my sweet," 

Whatever power you had over Astarion had just turned to dust. You bite your lip and nod quickly, letting Astarion push you on to your back. You part your hips, and Astarion slots right in. 

"Words, my love. You do know how much I love your voice." Such a fucking tease.

Linking your arms around his neck, you pull him down, hitching one of your legs over Astarion's hips. "Please…I need you to fuck me." 

"Shit…" Astarion groans. Taking himself in hand, he smears his dick with your arousal before filling you agonizing inch by inch. 

The two of you let out a collective cry of pleasure, and you feel complete. Astarion pulls out and slams his hips back, ripping the oxygen from your lungs, and sets a steady pace. You clutch at his shoulders, digging your nails into exposed skin. The slick sounds of Astarions pumping in and out of you were depraved and did nothing but fill your lower abdomen with molten lava. Astarion wholly consumed your senses. 

The coolness of his lips left lingering kisses on your arched neck. The smell of bergamot and rosemary flooded your nose with each shaky inhale. The saltiness of any skin you could taste. It was too much and not enough all at once. 

The scrape of Astarion's fangs graze his favorite feeding spot, and you grab the back of his head. "Yes! P-please…" and soon, the icy pierce of his teeth is followed by the cool tingle of pleasure that flows through your body. 

Astarion grunts as soon as the blood touches his tongue. He ruts faster against you, grinding you into the blankets. He has to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep your voice from waking the whole camp. 

But what can you do? Nothing. Not when his other hand begins to roll your clit in tight circles matching his thrusts. Your hands trail down his back, legs hooking tightly around his torso. The angle of your hips changes, and Astarion is pounding into the spot that has you seeing stars. You're close, and you try to say so, but Astarion hand is still tight around your mouth. 

After a last mouthful of blood, Astarions peppers kisses over the bite. "I know, my sweet, I'm…fuck I'm close to." 

His fingers are rubbing your clit faster, and his hips aren't letting up the brutal pace. Your legs are quaking, and you feel like you might faint. You clench tightly around him, and then you fall apart. Suddenly, Astarion's hand is gone, and his tongue is in your mouth, capturing every whimper of pleasure you give. And with a few more swallow sloppy thrusts, Astarion falls over the edge with you, filling you with his spent.

Astarion continue to languidly kiss you, both hands cupping your face like you are the most precious creature on the plane. He barely grinds his hips, feeling the last of your orgasms fade until you are both too sensitive. 

And it's like someone cut the puppet strings. Astarion falls limply onto you, blanketing your body with his. You comb softly through his hair, gently pulling out any knots. Astarion kisses your shoulder before rolling off of you. 

It is silent for a while as you stare into each other's eyes. Astarions is the first to speak. "I love you," His words were barely above the whisper, and if you weren't staring intently at the man, you might have missed it. 

You're speechless. Were you dreaming?

"I still believe you deserve more than the broken man before you. But you've chosen me, and I have felt true happiness for the first time since waking up in my grave. And well-"

You don't give him a moment to finish before you're in his lap and tackling him into an embrace. "I love you, Astarion." 

The dopey grin on his face has you breaking into your own. You press your forehead to his, and he hugs you tightly. You don't know what tomorrow brings. But being here, seeing Astarion's smile, and knowing he loves you just as much as you love him. It feels like you can do anything. 

Okay, friends, this was just so fun to write. Let me know what ya thought. I swear all the love and support I've received from my last few posts have been so amazing. I'm so excited to show you more!!!

If you liked this, maybe you'll like one of these?

Happy Birthday (fluffy)

Reoccurring Nightmares (hurt/comfort)

Tag list?: @heartfully10

[lemonzestywrites]

❤️✨🖤✨

i did a poll for the next posting and y’all have spoken! this next snippet takes immediately after this posting with a bit more soft dom buck!

also i got extremely indulgent with this one so ummm...enjoy the VERY long post LMAO

✨(nsfw under the cut!)✨ft. rimming (dont say you weren't warned!)

====

He’s not really used to this. A part of him isn’t really sure what to do with it- with this endless pleasure that’s fully and entirely his. 

There are no strings attached, no ulterior motives, really. Just Buck, who’s knelt between his legs and seems more than happy to linger there, driving Eddie fucking insane with nothing else but his tongue. (Holy shit, that tongue-)

Buck laps at his hole with such a hungry eagerness. Eddie strains against his bonds, writhing from the pleasure, his own cock dying for relief. But even as badly as he wants to seek out his own release, he knows better. Knows that’s not up to him, even as badly as he wants it.

Another sweet drag of Buck’s tongue sends a sharp shockwave of electricity up Eddie’s spine. He moans, the sound muffled and garbled behind the gag. Fuck. He’s not going to survive this. There’s no way.

He just manages to keep his hips from buckling again. Buck’s hands give his ass a slight, small squeeze as wordless encouragement. Eddie feels the heat of his mouth momentarily pull away, for a second. “Good boy, Eddie.”

The praise floods down Eddie’s cheeks, a burning wildfire claiming everything in its path. Scorching every inch of his skin, extinguishing every breath. He buries his face further into the mattress to steady himself, not minding the wet patch of drool pooling beneath him.

Buck dives back in not a moment later, the motion not faltering in intensity or desire. Maybe even increasing, as Buck devours him in full, the vibrations of his very self-satisfied hum doing fucking wonders to Eddie. A particular pass has Eddie instinctually bitting down on the silicone ball, the most depraved of moans being pulled from him as he does so.

Holy shit. He knew Buck was good with his mouth but this- 

This is borderline fucking illegal. It has to be- good fucking god. 

Eddie’s head spins, the world around him dizzying as he tries so desperately to at least force some air into his lungs, to make some attempt to ground himself here. He tries- he tries so hard-, but the air is too thin, too frail. His body tries to balance through every sensation, juggling through pleasure and desperation, through need and want. 

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Distantly as if miles away, he feels the warmth behind him retract slightly. Eddie whines, the sound needy and raw, though still muffled, as all of the sweet gorgeous bliss he was being offered suddenly pauses. 

The whole world drops off its kilter and every inch of his body aches in desperate depraved need.

But just like before, he feels a familiar warmth crawl up his back once more, but this time there’s no harshness to it, no domineering edge that carries an authority like it did earlier. The motion is still confident and sure, just…softer. Broad hands slide up Eddie’s sides with easy familiarity, an act that tugs at Eddie, grounding him to this moment. Buck retakes his place, spread along Eddie’s back again, tucking his head on top of his shoulder.

“Breathe,” Buck whispers. An order. Though it doesn’t really feel like one; not in the way Eddie’s used to. Because it doesn’t draw fear or demand respect. Buck’s voice is warm, gentle, even. “Take a big deep breath for me. Eddie. In through your nose; as much as you can take.”

Maybe in a clearer head, the rate and ease in which Eddie succumbs to Buck’s instruction might’ve been a surprise to him, but here at least, it doesn’t. He follows Buck’s words without a second's hesitation, inhaling through his nose, slowly taking in as much air as his lungs can allow.

It’s not like Eddie has ever had a problem with authority per se, not in the way he’s seen with other people, a fellow soldier disobeying an order, or another classmate making a snide comment from his fire instructor's lecture. Eddie’s always followed politely, because it’s what he’s had to do. It’s what was expected of him. From the moment he was a boy till now as an adult. The outburst, the disobedience, that’s just never been allowed. So he obeys. 

But with Buck…

It’s odd, the way it feels so different. Not bad. Or scary. 

Entirely the opposite, actually.

There’s a warmth, an air that surrounds Buck and his dominance. His command is still assertive, yet caring in the same breath. Not because he’s getting some sick power trip off telling Eddie what to do. 

That’s not how this works. 

He draws in a slow careful breath, feeling the edges of his raging mind beginning to calm a bit more, the hazy feeling starting to steady itself. 

Eddie doesn’t follow because he has to. 

He follows because he wants to. 

There’s so much trust placed between every order and every action. Never drawing from the feeling of reckless control or wild sexual abandon.

Buck hums to himself. “Perfect. Now let it all go.” The words flow so easily. Eddie releases the breath he was holding, not missing the way the hands at his sides begging to rub small circles into his hips. “Slower,” Buck coos gently, and Eddie leans into the instruction as soon as it's given, slowing the exhale down a bit more. “Yeah, just like that.”

The praise lands like morning sunbeams peeking in between the blinds, a warmth Eddie basks in, the muscles of his shoulders, relaxing as they fall. “Good. That was amazing,” he assures.

Assurance.

A feeling Eddie didn’t know he was even seeking out until now. Until the words landed delicately to his ears and gently tugged at his strings closer and closer to the ground. Never letting him stray too far.

Buck doesn’t just do this to exude power or control, just to fuck Eddie and leave him be afterwards. No-

Buck…Buck cares.

afotalwcs taglist (lmk if youd like to be added to be tagged in future postings!) - @eddiebabygirldiaz @your-catfish-friend @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @artemis-the-sinister

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Number 3 with Yae but the kicker is the reader just blurted it out after she helped them with a problem they’ve been struggling with all day (Also it’d be cool if the reader was close to immune to Yae’s teasing)

“Will you just marry me already?”

Characters: Yae Miko x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: I got three different messages requesting Yae with this one, so I guess I had no choice but to write her /hj

I hope this matches what you wanted, if you don't like it, just tell me and I'll try again once I have the time/motivation

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Yae Miko

Growing up with parents that liked teasing you as much as they liked to breathe air left you quite resistant to others trying to do the same. And while Yae was definitely on a whole new level, causing you to constantly struggle with trying not to lose your composure, with enough time you had gotten used to her methods to such a level that it took her quite some work to get a visible reaction out of you. Not like that would cause her to stop, instead serving as a challenge to her that she wouldn’t let pass by.

You couldn’t exactly remember how long you had spent on your little “pet project”, although you weren’t too sure anymore if you could even call it that anymore, the calming feeling it once provided having long been replaced by nothing but mild frustration at your inability to finish it, the only thing keeping you from just abandoning it being the idea of not actually finishing something. 

This all began a week ago when you thought it might be a great idea to build a small birdhouse, only for the project to increase in size with every stroke of your pencil you made while trying to draw a plan. And while the planning phase and most of the actual construction went pretty well, it just wouldn’t stand on its own, threatening to or just straight up collapsing when you let go of it. 

“Still working on it?”, Yae's voice cut off your trail of thought, forcing you back into the real world as you quickly turned your head to look up at her, your mood immediately improving as you finally weren’t alone with that damn thing. “Why don’t you let it be, seeing as all it does is cause you distress?”

“I can’t. I get the feeling that I’m really close to finally figuring out what was wrong, but I just can’t find my error”, you responded, sneaking one more look back at the not so finished birdhouse.

“Never took you for a person that likes inflicting pain onto yourself, but I guess even someone my age learns something new every day”, she joked only for you to let out a sarcastic laugh afterwards, watching her grab the plan you had made before glancing over both the paper and the actual construction.

“Now I’m not a professional, nor do I have any interest in becoming one, but don’t you miss this little thing here?”, she asked while pointing at a specific part of the plan, watching you as the cogs slowly started to turn in your brain, only for your eyes to widen in joy as you jumped up and threw your arms around Yae.

“You are a genius! Oh, will you just marry me already?”, you praised her before quickly trying to go back and finish your project so you wouldn’t forget anything, only to freeze up after a few seconds, your face turning slightly red as your brain backtracked to think of what you just said.

“No wait, that wasn’t a proposal or anything, I was just really happy”, you quickly tried to correct yourself, only for Yae’s smile to only increase in size.

“What? And here I was, thinking you actually loved me. How naive I was for actually thinking you meant it”, she recited in a dramatical voice only to let out a chuckle shortly afterwards.

Suddenly you felt like an idiot for even considering she might have misunderstood your comment as an actual proposal, your reaction only giving her an opening to finally tease you, the first one she got in weeks.

And by the gods, was she going to use it.

[ballerinainskzville]

Nightmares - Hyunjin one shot

Summary: you’ve been having nightmares through the week and your boyfriend Hyunjin calms you down

TW: 18+! blood, murder, crime scenes, explicitly, violence

“N-no! Stay away from me!”, you yelled at the masked intruder. Who was marching up at you expressionless, axe in his hand? His arm began to swing and-

“Noooo!”, you cried out, jolting.

When you opened your eyes, the masked man was gone. Frantically you looked around. You weren’t in the living room anymore. You were in your bedroom, and your boyfriend Hyunjin was sleeping rather peacefully next to you.

A nightmare.

This was the 5th nightmare this week.

They began haunting you every night.

Question was, who was haunting you?

You reached over to Hyunjin and pressed a kiss on his cheek. He buried his shirtless self further into the blankets. The world could end yet Hyunjin wouldn’t wake up from it.

You sneaked out of bed, shivering on the cold contact with the air on your exposed legs as you walked to the kitchen to get some water. “It was just a nightmare, just a bad nightmare”, you told yourself repeatedly.

After calming down, you decided to go to the art room not to disturb Hyunjin in your bedroom or Kkami in the living room. Both needed their sleep.

You sat down on the cushion, sketchbook in hand, and began to draw. You didn’t think of anything, no motive as you let the pen work its magic. You needed to get this out of your system and this was the only way. You yawned as the tiredness was taking over again. “I don’t want to go back to sleep, he might be there”, you mumbled but your eyes flickered.

“Thought you could get rid of me so easily?”, the masked man appeared again. You screamed, crying out for Hyunjin.

“Scream all you want, your pretty boyfriend can’t help you”. There was blood splattered on the mask-

And a body lay limp behind the man. No- “HYUNJIN!”, you shouted, rushing over to Hyunjin’s limp body. The man laughed like a menace as you crumbled down next to your bleeding boyfriend. “No, no, no! Hyunjin! No, look at me, baby! No!”, you sobbed out, holding onto his hand as you tried to wake him up. But he was cold. “Hyunjin!”, you cried out. “You can’t leave me here, no! Don’t do this to me, Hyunjin!”

“Y/N”, you heard. “Y/N, wake up, love”. A voice you could recognize everywhere: Hyunjin. He was alive. You shot your eyes open, shaking. Vision blurry, you looked around the room to adjust to your surroundings before you saw your boyfriend sitting across from you. “It’s me, Y/N. You had a nightmare”, he said with his sweet voice, cradling you into his arms. You struggled to breathe as you slowly registered that he was indeed alive. Hyunjin was well. “Oh god…”, you sighed and wrapped your arms around him too. Seconds past until you began to sob, the tiredness getting onto you. The nightmares, the lack of sleep, the horror. “I’m s-sorry”, you hiccuped into his chest, your tears rolling down his bare skin. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here. It was just a nightmare”, Hyunjin caressed your back soothingly, pressing multiple kisses on the top of your head.

Once you calmed down a little, you pulled away from Hyunjin. You were both sitting on the floor of the art room, Hyunjin only wearing sweatpants. “You’re going to get cold, Hyun”, you mumbled as you looked at him, taking in his beauty. He watched you attentively and waved it off.

“Why did you leave the bed?”, he asked instead, his slim finger tracing the back of your hand. You watched his finger before you looked back up. “I… had a nightmare. And was afraid to go back to sleep. But I might have disturbed you so I came here instead”. His eyebrows furrowed. “You had two nightmares?”

You nodded and then looked away. You knew where this was going.

“What are you not telling me, love? Is there something that upsets you?”, he whispered and cupped your cheek to make you face him. You couldn’t stand strong or mask your feelings when it came to your boyfriend. He was able to read your emotions like you were an open book.

“It wasn’t the first nightmare, was it? The reason why you’re so tired this week?”, he put the pieces together. You just nodded, ashamed that you had trouble sleeping in the first place. “I’ve had them all week”, you then admitted. Hyunjin sighed and pressed a kiss onto your forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”. “You’re busy with the schedules, I didn’t want you to force checking up on me when you’re promoting your new album”, you confessed.

Hyunjin took your hands and helped you to stand up. Without saying a word, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs tangled around his torso and he carried you back to your bedroom. Once he placed you onto the bed, which was significantly warmer than the art room, he went down on his knees, standing between your legs. “I promised that I’d take care of you, no matter what. Even if I’m dying of tiredness, your well-being is my priority. That includes sleepless nights due to nightmares”, he whispered as he caressed both your hands as he talked. Easing you a little.

You nodded, your eyes turning glossy with the care of Hyunjin. You didn’t know how you deserved him. He had millions of girls running after him but he was yours. “How did you even wake up? You would sleep through an apocalypse”, you whispered as you looked into his half-lidded eyes. He was tired.

“I heard you repeatedly screaming by name. What happened in your nightmare, my love?”, he stood closer to you, wrapping his arms around your exposed waist. The skin on skin, you sighed a little as you eased into his embrace. “There was this masked murderer. He was in every single nightmare so far, too. He… had murdered you…”, you mumbled and tightened your arms around Hyunjin without realizing it. He caressed your hair before he pulled away a little. With narrowed eyes.

“Don’t tell me it’s the same masked murderer from the dark romance book you were obsessed with recently”, he looked at you. You opened your mouth but the words died in your mouth. “That’s it. No more watching crime documentaries or reading smutty dark romance books before you go to bed, Y/N. No wonder you’ve been having nightmares”, Hyunjin scolded you and you rolled your eyes. “It’s how I relax before going to bed, Hyun”. He shook his head in disbelief before giving you a side-eye. “Tell me how exactly watching someone butcher an innocent person is relaxing before you go to sleep. That’s the reason you’re having nightmares”, you huffed out, annoyed by the fact that he was right. But you weren’t ready to agree with him. “Fine, I’ll stick to another genre for the time being. Now can we go back to sleep? You have to leave the house in “, you glanced at the time on your alarm clock standing on the nightstand, “… one hour. I’m so sorry, Hyunjin. You didn’t get enough sleep because of me”.

Hyunjin shook his head and pecked your lips. “It’s okay. That’s what coffee is for. I rather have you smiling than me sleeping longer”. You sighed and held onto the hem of his sweatpants, resting your head against his shoulder. “How about we spend the hour till I have to leave?”, he rested his head against yours. “What is going on through that mastermind of yours?”, you mumbled.

“Cook breakfast together, make out, read a book together, make out, or work on the painting”, he counted his suggestions. Which made you laugh. “And let me guess, make out during the painting too?”. His chest rumbled as he laughed, head thrown back. “I love you, what can I say? You wicked thing bewitched me and I can’t get enough of you”. You smiled at his words and looked up, leaning in to kiss your boyfriend lovingly.

[maybankxw]

Hello lovely! Can I get a jealous rough public smut with JJ? Maybe in a bar bathroom or outside against a building? They just can’t wait until they get home. 😈🤭

ARE YOU MINE?

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings: mature content ahead! [ smoking; language; jealous jj; unprotected and public sex; breeding; ] minors dni!!!

summary:  jj gets jealous and fucks her right against the pub wall

word count: 1.4k

a/n: uhh to clarify they're not really a couple, i think just casually fucking, but they're developing the relationships slowly hehe, thanks for requesting! ive never written a fic this fast, gave me some motivation! her pov!! but a few lines in bold italics are jj's in the beginning, enjoy! xx

links: masterlist / taglist / ask box

any feedback (comments, reblogs, anon asks) would be appreciated!

“Someone is gonna see us.”

“I don’t care.”

I did care. Fuck I was hoping no one was going to walk in on us, I didn’t want anyone to see her like this, naked, turned on and fucked out, I was the only one who got to see her like that. Mine, that’s what she was and god forgive me, I really wanted to smash that guy’s face. 

—

“You’re having a good time? the barman flashed me a smile, sliding another drink towards me, “On the house.”

“Thank you,” I smiled back, accepting the glass and taking a sip, the liquor burning my throat. I felt someone staring at me, so I turned behind carefully looking over my shoulder. JJ and his friends sat in the far back of the bar, taking pints after pints. His face was tight and somewhat angry, jaws gritted as he watched me. I hid a smile, briefly locking my eyes with his, before turning back, finishing my drink and asking for another.

We chatted with a barman guy a little more, nothing serious. He’d asked me what I did for living, how did I end up alone in the bar on a Thursday night and if I could get home safely. It didn’t feel like he was hitting on me, but even if he was, I didn’t care. My main focus was on JJ getting jealous over the picture he was looking at.

“I gotta go, but thank you,” I threw a few bucks on a counter, sliding off the stool, getting up to my feet. To my surprise I was just a bit tipsy, not feeling drunk whatsoever.

I went outside to get some fresh air, snatching a cig out of my purse, lighting it up and drawing on it, blowing a white cloud of smoke, relaxing against the cold brick wall. A whiff of chill air prickled my bare legs and shoulders. Well, fuck, should’ve taken a coat. I shivered, taking the last tug, putting the cig out with my heel, folding my arms together to hug myself and rub my arms for some warmth.

“New friend of yours?” a male voice startled me, making me jerk my head up, but I rolled my eyes, seeing JJ walking towards me.

“What if he is?” I sniffled a little, digging my fingertips into my skin as he towered over me, trapping me against the wall. 

“Walked away too fast, should’ve carried on flirting with him. That was…entertaining.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Don’t bullshit me, I saw everything.”

His body was pressed to mine now, I could see a wound on his lip in a faint light of a lantern that casted a glow over us, the same angry look in his eyes, the dark of his pupils swallowing his pale blue. He was so dangerously close, I didn’t feel cold anymore, his hot breaths hit my cheeks and his chest warmed mine. He smelled like cologne and beer, a hint of smoke too or maybe that was me.

“You saw nothing, JJ, let me go, I’m cold.”

He only looked down at me, pressing himself further, even though it seemed like there was no way to get closer. His face softened and his voice lowered into a whisper, “Did you give him your number? I know he wanted to fuck you, I fucking saw it,” he took a sharp inhale, clenching his fists, “Tell me.”

“I didn’t.”

A sigh of relief escapes his mouth, then he bent his head to level my face and his lips found their way to the side of my neck. He was careful at first, then the kisses turned into wet open mouthed ones and my knees bucked, but he caught me by my waist, devouring my neck, making my breaths hitch.

“JJ,” I tried to scold him, but my voice became shaky and weak as his lips veered to my throat and up to find my lips.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped into my mouth, “Do you want me to stop?”

I only shook my head in protest, that was all he needed, because he kissed me prolonged and deep, like he was kissing me for the last fucking time, his tongue brushed mine and he bit my bottom lip at the end of the kiss making me hiss.

His cock, hard, brushed my stomach, even through the rough material of his jeans I could feel him. Huge palms skimmed my sides, pushing my dress up to my waist. He cupped my pussy, rubbing my clit with his thumb, the fabric already soppy with my arousal, “Is this for me?” 

I didn’t reply, I just mewled, slightly bucking my hips to meet the movement of his hand.

“Is this for me?” he repeated, pushing his finger inside an inch with my panties still on, “Use this pretty mouth of yours, I need your words.”

Fuck he was so hot when he was jealous, almost like a different person, because normally he’d act less possessive and softer.

“Yes,” I breathed out, clutching his bicep for support, “Someone is gonna see us.”

“I don’t care.”

He snatched his hands away, fiddling with his belt and zipper, pulling his cock out, leaking with pre cum, hard and silky. My mouth watered. I thought I heard a distant chuckle from the bar’s front door. We were hidden behind the corner, but the thought of someone seeing us made my stomach tug.

He swirled me around swiftly, pushing my underwear to the side, giving himself a few strokes, rubbing his flushed tip against my needy cunt, lubing himself up in my wetness and finally sinking in, slowly, filling up every inch of me.

“J, oh, fuck—“ I whined, reaching behind to grasp his hips, feeling the head of his cock nudging the back of my pussy. Abruptly he pulled out, leaving me empty and aching.

“You know, I wanted to smash his face against that counter,” he pushed in again, his movements rough and persistent, “Fuck, he was hitting on you and you just smiled back so sweet and innocent,” another deep thrust. 

His lips were next to my ear, one of his hands braced against the wall, another caressing and pressing my stomach.

“And the look you gave me, like I was fucking no one?” his teeth sunk into my shoulder. I couldn’t manage a response, I just let him fuck me and let it all out, because I was enjoying it too, desperately biting my lips to prevent from moaning, while he slammed his hips into mine, the sound of our skin slapping made me more eager.

“Wanted to fuck you right there so he’d know who makes you come hard, makes you whine and moan, fuck—“

he seized my hips, quickening his pace, fucking me faster, his nose brushing my hair in the back of my head, “Are you mine?” he whispered, sucking the spot below my ear, “Tell me you’re mine.”

I leaned against him, resting my head on his chest, panting and rubbing my clit in slow circles, clenching around his cock, “Yes, yours, I’m yours, god, fuck—“

His fist wrapped around my throat and he poured his tongue into my mouth, kissing me dirty and sticky, unleashing a new wave of desire. I went dizzy, my fingers flicked my clit frantically as I moaned into his mouth, holding onto his forearm for support, feeling his cock grazing my sensitive spot again and again.

“That’s right, you are, mine to fuck and kiss and smile to.”

“Jealous.”

He smirked, but let it slide, kissing me more, until I fell apart, trembling in his arms, my pussy rippling around him, “JJ—“

“Good girl, fuck, look at you,” his thrusts grew sloppier but remained deep, “Shaking in my arms, did I fuck you good? You like getting on my nerves so I could make you come this hard?”

Fuck him and his dirty mouth.

I let go of my clit, feeling tears forming in the corners of my eyes, locking in a long spasm, biting my fist to muffle my cries. He came a minute later, when my high subsided, his cock twitched, thick ropes of cum filled me and he pulled out, immediately fixing my panties, snapping them in place, “Keep it there, I want you to walk with my cum inside your tight little cunt, so you’ll be reminded who you belong to.” 

tags: @icedcold @pankowforlife @novxturient @mackenzielovee @alwaysclassyeagle @kaelibaby @sunset-styles @maybanks-luver @nope-thanks @absolute-fcking-chaos @tomhollandlol @blueicequeen19 @loveyru @rottenstyx @drewbooooo @rafecameronswhore @sansasdove @herejustforjj @ameliaalvarez06 @my-baexht-ls @colbysxplr @chaostudee @i-always-come-back-xoxo @luversgirl @vintageirene @wannabestarkeysgirl @liamthedunbar @instabull @dudenhaaa27 @jessmaybank @ofherscarlettwitchways @kayleiggh @harryspunchingbag @angelofcigs @adventuresinobx @brooklynhunt444​ 

[adelaidedrubman]

and then there was wednesday

i went and got tagged on this day of wednes by beloveds @direwombat @socially-awkward-skeleton @inafieldofdaisies @corvosattano to wip, thank you my beloveds!

bitches will be like “i’ll never actually write america’s sweetheart it’s a joke au” then be like “anyways here’s 600 words of america’s sweetheart, the definitive wildfire ending.” have some jestiny attempting to make her directorial debut, warnings for drug and alcohol use and me being annoyingly meta. and jestiny publicist pov

“Sure,” the actress chimed, twirling a strand of short red hair around her finger. “I heard it in Sunday school.”  “Then perhaps you could fuckin’ explain to me, Olivia,” Jestiny said, pausing to draw a deep breath in through flared nostrils, “Why I would be turning on the water works before he cut my hair?”  Olivia furrowed her brow. “Um, because you were afraid? You had to be. You were being chased through the woods by a crazy cult leader brandishing a knife.”  Jestiny’s eyes widened. Andrea pinched the bridge of her nose in anticipation. 

“It’s not about fear, it’s about vulnerability,” Jestiny ground out, jabbing a finger of her coffee cup-clasping hand towards the actress and causing the pungent drink that was definitely not coffee to slosh loudly inside. “That is the scary part — not the knife. The hair cutting is an act of intimacy,” she said pointedly. She waved her free hand as if conducting a symphony as she continued, “It’s the culmination of a careful dance, all about the subtle struggle of who’s leading. There should be build-up to it!” She pulled out an Altoid tin and shook out a few white tablets that were definitely not breath mints to chew on. “It’s supposed to be predictable, but still devastating! It’s a tragedy!”  She glared down at Olivia. “And it’s a tale of hubris. The protagonist is arrogant before the downfall, not scared and crying.”  Henry rose begrudgingly from his director’s chair. “That’s in your memoir?” “That’s in the Bible.”  “Your memoir is like the Bible, to me,” Flynn chimed in, fluttering his eyelashes and clasping a copy of Urges from God by Jestiny Rook pulled seemingly from thin air. Andrea almost pitied him, to not foresee he’d be dumped the moment he shaved for the premiere party like all the others had.  “You want me to play it more smug, then?” Olivia asked, flipping through the pages of the script, as if the method to Jestiny’s madness would be buried somewhere amongst stage directions.  “Fuck no!” Jestiny cried. “I have to be relatable and likeable. Someone the audience wants to root for to come out on top, not see crash and burn!” She threw back her cup, gulping down the last of its contents. “I’m not smug, that doesn’t sell. I’m a plucky and bold underdog. I’m cheerful. I’m compassionate. I’m humble. I’m…” She restlessly drummed her fingers against the cardboard of her empty cup. “I’m America’s fucking sweetheart!” Jestiny paused as the words rang against the walls, eyes scanning with a familiar frantic jitter along the blank faces of the crew as she crushed the empty coffee cup in her hand.  “But, like —” she fidgeted with the ends of hair that fell just above her collarbones. “In a way that respects the fuckin’ integrity of the greater symbolism, and all.” Olivia sighed. “Does that mean I’m supposed to cry before or after the haircut thing?” “You’re a fuckin’ hack, Olivia. Pun once again intended.” “Should I be crying?” Flynn asked, looking up from the book cradled in his arms. “What is my motivation in this scene — in the Biblical sense?”  “Are none of you fucking getting this?!”  “Wait,” Henry mumbled, peering over Flynn’s shoulders. “Was he saying he’s Delilah?”  A low growl sounded in the pit of Jestiny’s throat, a final warning.  “They —” She clenched her jaw so forcefully that Andrea could see dimples sink into her cheeks despite the thin line her lips scrunched into, a hard knot of muscle popping its hinges as she tilted her head down and to the side. She drew in a deep breath as her hand clenched into a fist, releasing it as a ragged exhale as she splayed the fingers straight with a back and forth jostle of her arm. “They should have never let a man direct this movie,” she said with finality as she stormed off set.  Andrea sighed, turning to the side and picking up the fruit plate she’d been grazing on just in time to save it as Jestiny flipped over the craft services table. 

tags out to my sweethearts @florbelles @josephslittledeputy @afarcryfrommymain @poetikat @just-another-wasteland-merc @voidika @captastra @confidentandgood @belorage @deputyash @blissfulalchemist @shellibisshe @thedeadthree @nightbloodbix @ladyofedens-blog @miyabilicious @simplegenius042 @henbased @clicheantagonist @firstaidspray @strafethesesinners @nuclearstorms @jackiesarch @v0idbuggy @orionlancasterr @stacispratt @8bitpizzacoupons @strangefable @shallow-gravy @roofgeese + opt in HERE to be tagged for writing wip shit!

[finnpeach]

Dude kneel was my favorite fic on the face of the earth. If you don’t want anything to do with it it totally respect that but I hope someday you’ll rewrite or repost it. I read it so much I nearly had it memorized

Hey do you wanna get married or something? Because this is the best compliment ever and I never stopped thinking about it. Sorry, I know you sent me this months ago but I finally got the motivation to dig through my docs and hit copy and paste. FIND KNEEL BELOW! JUST FOR YOU!

Kneel

Please enjoy my fleabag-inspired Vashwood AU, where Wolfwood is a disillusioned priest with the kink and Vash is a secret angel. Something about having a cold tears down his defences that he’s not just a normal human, and Wolfwood starts to catch on.

The church is remarkably cold today, Wolfwood thinks, as he walks towards the pulpit.  The air has a chilly bite to it and sends a shiver down his spine. He will have to ask Milly to distribute blankets to the parishioners for the next time, lest they start getting complaints.

Fifty pairs of eyes follow him from the pews, holding their stare as the entrance song rings across the stone walls. Nobody is excited to see him delivering the mass today. 

“Father Wolfwood? He’s all right, a bit rough around the edges. He seems dissuaded by the spirit these days. Maybe he needs to go on a religious sabbatical.”

It is true that he has been a bit, well, bored, lately. He delivers the same Mass every Sunday. Receives the same sort of confessionals every day. Baptises the same type of wriggling babies. Attends the same standard of funerals. He has completely lost his motivation, his provocation, for the spirit. Maybe he is in the wrong line of work.

 His black robe sweeps around his ankles. Were it not for the organ and the singing, he would hear it, swish swish swishing beneath him like its own prayer.

The entrance song comes to a close as he places his bible on the pulpit. He prefers his own, rather than the church’s large scripture. He can make notes this way and scribble drawings of a burning bush, or a ridiculously large boat with two of every animal. 

With careless fingers, he opens the bible and clears his throat. His earthy brown eyes lazily scan the crowd, the forthcoming speech stirring in his mind like old bones coming to life. 

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” Wolfwood’s voice echoes throughout the church. He opens his palms towards the ceiling, as he always does.

“Amen,” the church replies.

Wolfwood delivers the greeting speech with practised boredom. He wishes something would happen. Please God, if you are even out there, save me from this mundanity.

His tongue forms the final words. “The Lord be with you.”

“And also with you,” comes the echo of the crowd.

“Please be seated.” Wolfwood nearly yawns. He closes his eyes, feigning spiritual enlightenment.

“And also with you.” One singular voice breaks the silence within the church.

Wolfwood’s eyes shoot open. He hadn’t expected his joke of a prayer, to be saved from this mundanity, to be answered so soon. Forty nine other pairs of eyes turn to see who has just spoken up. 

He pinpoints him immediately. Spikey blonde hair. Undercut. His cheeks are pink with embarrassment. His nose, too. Tall, red coat. Glasses. Sheepishly grinning and sitting down to escape everyone’s gaze. 

Also an idiot, apparently.

Wolfwood has never seen him here before. A surprised smile twitches at the corner of his lips, taken aback, the sluggish boredom replaced with renewed vigour. 

He continues with the rest of the sermon, his heart suddenly beating in tandem with the rhythm of his words. Something about this blonde man’s eyes watching him (they’re blue, even from behind the pulpit, Wolfwood can see that they shine like sapphires) lights a fire in him. He has not felt like this since he first started studying scripture.

At some point, towards the end of Mass, he hears someone sniffling. Thick, wet sniffs that punctuate the silence around his speech. This was to be expected, though, considering how cold the church is. Wolfwood is not able to tell who it is until his eyes land, once again, on the blonde stranger. 

He is the one sniffling. His nose is pink, like an English rose, and he keeps rubbing at it. He should just blow his nose and get it all over with. 

Considering the sniffling, it was also only a matter of time until the sneezing commenced.

“...all the glory and honour is yours, forever and ever,” Wolfwood concludes.

“Amen,” the crowd replies.

“H’ihZTSHsHh’UE!” 

The sneeze echoes off the stone walls of the church. Luckily, the organist begins playing, muffling the sound of the next sharp, wet sneeze.

“-- eh’TDhSHhh’ieW!” 

Wolfwood searches the parishioners to see where the sneezes came from. The likeliest suspect is the same spikey, sniffly stranger from earlier, and Wolfwood is correct in his assumption. 

Warm, liquid heat fills his veins like syrup. The man is bent forward in the pew with elbows on his knees. He tends to his dripping nose with a pathetic piece of tissue and looks absolutely miserable. Does he have a cold? Why is Wolfwood’s heart beating so fast, just from looking at him? It is as though he is looking at an angel, something holy, even though the man is just suffering through a cold. Maybe Wolfwood should–

“Father? Wolfwood?” Milly’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. The young woman is standing next to him with the box of wafers and wine in her hand. 

“Are you okay? I’ve been trying to get your attention. We’re ready to start the communion rite.”

“Ah.” Wolfwood shakes his head, hoping it will rid his mind of the man’s pink nose. He needs to focus. “Right. Sorry. Let’s go.”

He takes the box of wafers from her hand, or the body of Christ. How can Christ’s body be in these pathetic little wafers? He should at least be in a 12 ounce wagyu steak, that would be more fitting. Wolfwood thinks. He does not suppose the church could write off wagyu beef for expenses, though.

He stands in front of the pulpit as people begin to line up to receive the body and blood of Christ. Milly pours the wine while Wolfwood hands them the wafers with practised apathy. The Body of Christ, Amen. The Body of Christ, Amen. The Body of Christ–

His indifference is dispelled when the man in the red coat suddenly appears before him. 

Wolfwood swallows. His throat is tight against his priest’s collar. They are probably the same height, yet the blonde appears a little shorter because he’s tucking his chin down slightly. The position allows him to gaze up at Wolfwood with sparkling blue eyes.

“Father,” the man says courteously, his tongue grazing against his bottom lip. It leaves his lips wet, similar to his nose, which, now that Wolfwood is closer, is actually an irritated shade of red. 

Wolfwood ignores the shiver that electrifies his body as he repeats the word like a chant in his head. Father. Father. Father.

“The Body of Christ,” Wolfwood says, his tongue thick in his mouth as he raises the wafer.

“Amen,” the other replies softly, never once breaking eye contact.

He expects the blonde man to hold out his hand and take the wafer, like everyone else has, but instead he drops open his mouth slightly and allows his pink tongue to slide out of his mouth, resting against his pillowy bottom lip.

He continues to gaze up at Wolfwood expectantly.

Gritting his teeth, the priest places the wafer on the tip of the believer’s tongue. He feels like he is buzzing with electricity. The man lifts his tongue, slightly, so slightly, so that it touches the tip of Wolfwood’s finger as he places the wafer.

Shocked, Wolfwood draws his hand back as quickly as one does when they touch a hot stove. The moisture settles into his skin like venom.

Warmth stirs in his abdomen. The man draws his tongue back into his mouth, letting the wafer disintegrate on his tongue. He gives Wolfwood a small smile and a wink. 

Wolfwood cannot seem to break eye contact with the stranger as he exits the line and the next parishioner steps forward. He has to remind himself to look away, to focus on the person in front of him.

He flexes his hand that had been touched by the man’s tongue and ignores the heat bubbling inside him. The priest readies the next wafer.

“The Body of Christ.”

“Amen,” the woman replies and holds out her hand.

***

After the service, Wolfwood walks behind the church to smoke. It is a quiet spot and overlooks the cemetery, and few parishioners tend to bother him back here.

That is, until today.

He lights the cigarette between his lips and leans his head back against the freezing stone wall. He lets his eyes slip shut as he battles with his own detachment for this place. At least it is quiet and peaceful out here– 

“Hi.”

Wolfwood jolts at the sound, his heart ricocheting around his chest like a bullet. To his right is the blonde parishioner with the pink nose, the same from earlier. How did he know about his hiding spot?!

He bites his cigarette and glares at him as he tries to slow the hammering in his chest.

“Fucking hell, you almost gave me a heart attack! Do you just sneak up on everyone like that?!”

“Oh, sorry.” The stranger looks genuinely surprised and apologetic, and maybe a little shocked to hear a priest swearing. He gives Wolfwood a gentle smile, the kind that would make anyone trust him immediately. Wolfwood feels himself grow even more on edge. 

“I thought you heard me coming. I just wanted to say that your service was really great.”

Wolfwood huffs a laugh. “Don’t usually get compliments like that these days. Thanks.”

The man cocks his head to the side and lifts an eyebrow. He looks a bit like a puppy tilting its head.

“Why not?”

“Mmm,” Wolfwoof hums. “It’s not important.” He waves his hand at him, as if to shake away the topic. “Anyway, is this your first time here, blondie?”

The man does not seem bothered by the nickname. In fact, it makes his smile grow.

“Yes, I just moved here. I volunteered a lot at my previous church and wanted to do the same here. I thought I’d come find you to ask about any help you may need.”

Wolfwood snorts. “Really? We usually only get delinquent kids that need community service time comin’ around here to help out.” He takes a long drag of his cigarette and angles the smoke away from the man.

“You got a name?”

“Vash.”

Vash. “Wolfwood. Nice to meet ya.” Wolfwood puts his cigarette between his lips and offers his hand, which Vash kindly refuses, holding his hands up to his chest with his palms facing the priest. 

“Ahh, you probably don’t want to shake hands with me. I have a bit of a cold,” he says, grinning abashedly. “Sorry if my sneezing messed up your sermon today. I didn’t want to get anyone else sick, so I sat in the back.”

Yeah, so Vash could sneeze all over everyone in front of him? He really is a bit of a moron. But Wolfwood is lucky he was not sitting up front, sneezing as he was, otherwise he would have had a boner for the whole church to see. 

“Hm. Are you an angel, or somethin’? Like actually.” Wolfwood tucks his chin forward and looks at him from over the rim of his glasses. This man is far too nice for his own good.

“What do you mean?” Vash has not stopped smiling since they started talking, and his smile has only stretched, as if he is surprised by being called an angel. The question clearly makes him nervous even though Wolfwood was just teasing.

“I mean – you’re sick as hell, and came to Mass just so you could ask about volunteering, and you’re at least considerate about being sick. What’s the catch? You hiding something?”

“N-no! I just like helping my community, thahh…”

Wolfwoof watches as Vash’s hands steeple over his nose, anticipating the inevitable. Fuck, stop staring.

But he cannot. Vash’s pretty blue eyes pinch shut and his golden eyelashes catch in the sun like a flame. His lips draw back over his teeth to reveal sharp canines as his pale hands rise up to tent his nose. 

“H’ahDZSh’hue!-- huh.. h’uhDThSCH’ue!” He stays bent forward for a millisecond, eyes shut, as if expecting another. When a third does not come, he rights himself and looks at Wolfwood again with a sharp sniffle. 

The priest watches as one of Vash’s pink, damp nostrils closes with the sniff but the other does not. Ah, so he’s congested. 

Wolfwood cannot pinpoint it, but the atmosphere seems brighter, lighter, now. He could have sworn he saw a little golden halo of light flash around Vash’s head when he sneezed, but maybe the sun is just playing tricks on him.

Once again, the priest’s collar is tight around his throat as he swallows. He is suddenly grateful for the extra fabric in his robe and he just hopes that it is covering the emerging hard on.

“God bless you.” 

“Snff!.. Thangks.” Vash smiles brightly again, like the blessing has just renewed him. Maybe he is just a religious weirdo. “Might be a while udntil I can volunteer, though.” He laughs a little and Wolfwood swears he hears wind chimes rustle on a nearby tree. Which is odd, because there is not a single breeze in the air. 

“No kidding.” Wolfwood kicks his foot up against the wall of the church. “We don’t have anything going on yet, but we’ll do a winter clothing drive soon. Milly’s setting it up, though, so I’d talk to her.”

“A winter clothing drive… Perfect, I’ll go talk to her about it then. I also wondered—“ Vash steps closer so that they are only a foot apart. Wolfwood’s skin shivers as he comes closer, as if someone has just placed a cold hand on his back. The blonde lowers his voice even though they are alone.

“— is there someone I could talk to? I’ve been… I suppose, going through a difficult time, but—“

Wolfwood holds up his hand to stop him. “We offer confessionals and counselling sessions at specified times, and I’m on break right now.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry—“ His smile breaks for the first time. Did a cloud just cover the sun?

“But—” Wolfwood keeps his hand up but places his fingers down so only his index remains up. “You are welcome by my office at any time. Or in my hiding spot. If you bring a few beers, we can have a proper chat.” 

Vash grins again, and suddenly the cloud passes. Light floods around them like a shining beacon. Wolfwood thinks it must be a coincidence.

“That would be great.”

“No wine coolers. I don’t drink that sissy shit.” Wolfwood puts his cigarette out on the stone wall of the church and pinches the butt between his fingers. Milly has told him off for cursing around the parishioners before, apparently it’s not very “professional”.

“Oh, so you’re a cool, swear-y priest, are you?” Vash’s voice is teasing, light, and airy. Wolfwood could have this back and forth for hours.

“All the best are.” Wolfwood cannot help but grin. Finally, some appreciation around here.

“Thank you, Father. I’ll come by sometime.” Vash gives him a small wave goodbye and walks away.

The last thing Wolfwood sees is the end of his red coat gliding around the corner. Why does he feel so good right now, after just a short conversation with Vash? Something inside him feels light again, as if he could walk on air and watch the world below. 

Father, Father, Father. 

*** 

Vash rounded the corner as calmly as he possibly could, until he was out of sight from Wolfwood. Then he broke out into a sprint and ran far and fast, away from the church and away from anyone who might have seen his drop in disguise. He probably looked quite insane, running in jeans and combat boots and a red coat, and many humans stopped to give him a strange look.

His legs carried him as far as a secluded park. His cold, this silly thing that humans caught and were weakened by, made it difficult for him to catch his breath,

That had been close. Too close, Nai would say, you’re going to compromise your true nature if you keep it up.

And to that, Vash would say, It’s okay! Why does it matter if they find out that we’re angels? Aren’t we supposed to be helping them, anyway? Maybe knowing who we are will help them understand!

Nai would roll his eyes, and he would either leave it at that, or lecture him on how helpless humans were, how exposing their true divinity would ruin the humans, how their entire world could be undone if he so much as stuck a wing out of line.

Deep down, Vash knew his brother was a little bit right, but he was a little bit wrong, too. Wolfwood understood, and he was not helpless.

He had been assigned to this particular priest by Nai. Another priest who’s lost his way, Vash. Just go down there and perform a few miracles and he’ll be back on track.

Most priests were not particularly beautiful, or fun to be around. They were often old, or too serious. But Wolfwood was a different story entirely. He was tall, and very handsome. He had had an interesting childhood, based on the report Nai had given him, and had lived in an orphanage for most of his life. According to his profile, he tends to be blasphemous, unruly, prideful, lazy, and even lustful. Vash, as his assigned angel, would have to set him on the path towards holy righteousness again. 

It seemed he had become disillusioned with religion in the previous years, and needed divine intervention to get back on track. Easy enough. Vash would swoop in there, perform a few miracles, and then leave. It should be simple.

Except, it was not. Vash’s heart had hammered in his chest like a rabbit beneath a hawk’s shadow when he first laid eyes on Wolfwood. The priest’s robe was tight against his chest, the black and white collar wrapped around his throat, and a small silver cross hanging by a silver chain around his neck. 

Despite his immediate attraction for the priest, the visit had still gone (somewhat) according to plan. Wolfwood sensed Vash’s presence and felt the spirit during his service, and as such, the Mass improved. At the end, he had heard snippets of other parishioners gossiping about how much better the service had been, how much more enigmatic Wolfwood had been.

The only hiccup was this cold. He had caught it in the days leading up to his visit with Wolfwood. It is unusual for angels to catch colds, but certainly not unheard of. Being on Earth, surrounded by unholiness and sin, made him more susceptible to illnesses. When Vash woke up the morning of his visit with an ache in his throat and a stuffiness in his sinuses, he was not the least bit surprised.

Now that he’s in the park, he can stretch out a bit. He wanders deeper into the woods until he arrives at a clearing. The hills extend for miles, with trees dotting the perimeter. No one will see, and if they do, he can just fly away.

Vash removes his coat and allows his wings to stretch out, a pleasurable shiver running down his spine as they extend from between his shoulder blades. Ah, much better. 

He lays down in the grass and stares up at the sky. Wolfwood knew he was hiding something. He had even called him an angel. 

The opportunity to think further about it is interrupted by the same spark in his sinuses as earlier. His nose scrunches in retaliation, lips drawing back over his teeth to reveal sharp canines, and he twists to the side.

“H’ddYZSHhue! ‘ihHTSCHhhyiewhh!” The contagious mist catches in the sunlight, a clear testament to how wet the sneezes were. He sniffles pathetically and rubs harshly at his nose with the heel of his hand. 

That had been another thing Vash had noticed about Wolfwood’s lust. He liked this particular bodily sensation, and had paid special attention when Vash did it in the church. How funny, that he likes something so delicate and simple. Vash thinks.

The angel rolls back on his spine and sighs. He feels like he knows so much, yet so little at the same time. 

***

Four days later, and the mundanity of his line of work has returned. Vash has not been seen in the church since the last Mass, and Wolfwood has to admit that he misses his presence. 

This particular priest hates confessionals most of all. He is not interested in hearing about people’s sins, nor does he particularly care to comfort them, but it is sometimes interesting to hear the latest bit of church gossip. For example, when someone with a recognisable voice comes in and confesses they stole something from their neighbour, who also happens to be a church member, and now Wolfwood knows about the old lady thievery drama between Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Downy. Or, when a certain (Mrs. Downy, of course) hardly anonymous churchgoer confesses that she slept with a married man (Mr. Jones), and the wife (Mrs. Jones) doesn’t know. Those days are the most interesting.

He has a feeling, though, that today will be a slow day, full of people who actually want to confess their boring sins and feel better about themselves when he tells them they’re forgiven.

Beside him, the curtain swishes on the other confessional box as someone steps through it. 

It begins. Wolfwood yawns. The confessional sits down.

Wolfwood continues slouching, bored. He tugs on his priest’s collar and hopes this will be done quickly. It only takes the sound of a familiar voice to suddenly make him sit upright and at attention.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Blondie.

“It has been… um…” Vash trails off, and Wolfwood swears he can see him counting on his fingers through the screened partition. Seriously?

“It has been, um… Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever confessed, actually. So I guess that’s the first sin. But here are my sins.” He sniffles a couple times. Is something bothering his nose? Is he still sick?

Wolfwood’s throat is tight. What could this goody two shoes possibly have to confess about? Did he hug someone too hard and give them a bad back? Did he give some crying child an ice cream, and then that kid turned out to be diabetic?

“I’ve fallen in love. And it’s a bit unconventional.”

Wolfwood rolls his eyes. He gets about a hundred “I’m gay” confessionals every week. And he didn’t have to guess that Vash was, either. 

This is a waste of a confessional. Though, maybe he’ll get some more intel on who Vash is in love with. Wolfwood was really hoping that he was single. Not that he should, though, since his like of work forbids it.

“Well, the Lord loves all his children, regardless of their preferences. Despite what you may have heard.” He leans his head against the wooden wall, aching for a cigarette. He really does not care to reassure people about their sexuality. A hole is a hole. What is even more annoying is the combination of these confessionals and finding out his new love interest is already in love with another. 

Vash gives a small chuckle. “No, no, it’s not that. It’s unconventional because of his… line of work, I suppose.”

Wolfwood pauses. Line of work. “Could you elaborate?”

Vash is quiet for a moment. The silence hangs delicately in the air.

“He’s a priest.”

Something inside Wolfwood shatters like glass.  

Wolfwoof says nothing for an instant. He hears Vash’s congested, snuffly breathing, which has started getting louder. Is he nervous?

“I’m sorry. That was stupid. Forget I said anything.”

Wolfwood stares at the floor ahead of him. 

“Wolfwood? Are you there? Please say something.” His voice cracks, desperate.

Wolfwood closes his eyes and leans his head back. Some sort of feeling takes over him again, filling him with the same magnetic spirituality as it did in Mass when Vash had his eyes on him. He relinquishes himself. 

“Kneel,” he says, softly. He should not be doing this.

“What?”

“Kneel.” He should not be doing this.

Wolfwood waits to hear Vash sink down to the floor before he rises from his seat. He silently slips out of his own side, then stands outside of Vash’s curtain for a beat. His heart hammers in his chest like a drum. Do not open the curtain. Do not open the curtain.

He tugs back the curtain and they meet each other’s gaze. Vash is kneeled on the floor, hands pathetically folded in his lap, eyes wet. His nose is still pink, a sure sign he has not shaken his cold yet. His eyes, fuck, his big blue eyes, look up at him so softly.

Vash staring up at him like this, like he is an answered prayer, makes him feel alive. Perhaps what he is about to do is acceptable in God’s eyes, if Vash is looking at him so religiously.

Wolfwood takes a knee and allows his hand to glide over Vash’s jaw, his thumb resting against the base of his ear. His skin is warm. Vash breathes through his mouth, lips slightly parted. His eyes search Wolfwood’s, darting from his lips, to his eyes, to his hand resting against his face. He looks angelic.

Vash is the first to break the spell, when he sees Wolfwood struggling too. He leans forward and kisses Wolfwood, careful at first, light. Much too cautious for Wolfwood’s taste. A match strikes within the priest at the taste of his lips and he deepens the pressure in turn. 

He pulls Vash to his feet as their lips strike against each other. Pushing and pulling. It is all Wolfwood, at first, on the offence, with Vash pathetically accepting. At the feel of Wolfwood’s hand on his hip, his fingers digging into his skin, he presses forward, parrying each of Wolfwood’s kisses with his own. 

They stop suddenly when Vash presses his hand to Wolfwood’s chest.

“Wait,” he says. He is breathing hard. “I still have a cold.”

“Like I give a fucking shit about that. Come here.” 

Wolfwood is not going to stop now. He steps into the confessional box and closes the curtain behind them, then wraps his hands around the back of Vash’s thighs to pick him up. Vash yelps a bit in surprise but is quickly placated when he finds himself on Wolfwood’s lap, seated in the confessional booth.

“This… Kissing a priest, in a church. Won’t he get mad?” Vash asks between kisses. His hand is warm against Wolfwood’s neck, the other is knotted in his black hair.

“Who?” Shut up and just keep kissing me, he thinks. Vash’s lips taste like golden honey, and each time they drift away, Wolfwood is left wanting more.

“God.”

Wolfwood snickers. “What’re you, his secretary?” 

Something about that causes Vash to pause, and he takes a second to come up with something clever to get Wolfwood off his trail.

“Aren’t you, technically?”

“Touché.” He presses a soft kiss to Vash’s lips. “If you don’t tell on me, I won’t tell on you. It’ll be our little secret.”

Wolfwood is growing harder with Vash in his lap, and the way he keeps pulling away to sniffle and rub at his nose is not helping. He is too far gone to care anymore. Each time he turns his head away, Wolfwood gives him a moment to recover before gripping his fingers in Vash’s blonde hair and tugging him back. He is impatient, restless. It is a combination of breaking his vows as a priest in the holiest place he could possibly break them, and the sensation of Vash sitting atop his cock.

His lips find Wolfwood’s neck and begin making deep, dark bruises above the collar. A gentle moan unwillingly escapes him at the sensation. He does not think it can get much better until Vash’s breath starts to hitch. His breath staggers against Wolfwood’s lips, and he almost mistakes it for pleasure, until Vash is pitching forward against Wolfwood’s shoulder, sneezing right against the collar of his robe.

“Hih’DHhSHHh’YUE!” The mist coats half of Wolfwood’s throat. He grits his teeth to avoid moaning.

“Suhh.. Sorry…” Vash breaths, then– “--eh’IDTSHhhyIEW!” His pink, twitching nose presses against the crook of Wolfwood’s neck again, and Wolfwood swears he saw a halo around his head again.

“What was that?”

“What?” Vash asks, leaning back to wipe at his nose with the side of his index finger.

“That thing you just did. The light. What was it? Where’d it go?”

Vash looks stunned. “I… I don’t–”

The sound of footsteps echoing against the tiled floor of the church causes them both to freeze. Wolfwood clamps his palm over Vash’s mouth, his other hand steadying the other’s lower back.

The other curtain draws back and someone steps in and sits down. Fuck.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

Wolfwood stays silent, lost for words, until Vash pokes him in the ribs.

“Pl-please continue.” Wolfwood’s throat is as dry as sandpaper. Vash watches him like a hawk.

“It has been two years since my last confession. Since then I have lied, cheated on my wife, and…”

Wolfwood feels Vash’s lips part against his palm and his breath hitches. Oh, fuck no. He glares up at Vash and sees his nose twitching against the side of his fingers.

‘Don’t you dare.’ Wolfwood mouths, baring his teeth at him.

Vash shakes his head and pinches his eyes shut. His hands grab onto Wolfwood’s shoulders.

“... I have used drugs, and alcohol, and been blasphemous…”

Jesus, this guy needs to wrap it up. Wolfwood can only focus on Vash right now, the way he feels against his cock, how he so desperately needs to sneeze. 

The man keeps droning on and Wolfwood feels like he is in hell. He presses his hand tighter around Vash’s mouth. If this guy catches them, he is definitely going to lose his job. 

“H’ih…”

‘Blondie!’ Wolfwood mouths, but it is useless. He removes his hand from Vash’s mouth and wraps it around the back of Vash’s head, tugging him forward just as Vash’s chest expands one last time.

“Heh’idZSHhh’yue!” Wolfwood presses Vash’s face against the crook of his neck, but not quickly enough to muffle the first sneeze. They echo around the confession box and the church.

“ih-CHSHhh’ue! ihGKTSHhhIEW!” Each sneeze bursts a mist of successive spray against Wolfwood’s neck. This, he thinks, must be some sort of baptism.

Once Vash has finally stopped sneezing, he rests his forehead against Wolfwood’s shoulder and sniffles thickly, making little congested sounds that do not help their situation.

“Uh… Bless you, Father Wolfwood,” the man says, pausing his confession. Wolfwood is about to open his mouth, deliver the prayer of Absolution and get him out of here, when Vash decides to speak up instead.

“Thank you!” Vash chirps, and his stupid voice is so remarkably different from Wolfwood’s that the man goes silent. If Wolfwood could see the man, he’d imagine that his jaw would be hanging open.

Wolfwood will beat Vash’s ass later, most certainly. For now, he just wraps his hand around Vash’s jaw to shut him up before turning back to the confessionary.

“Apologies, I caught a cold and my voice is going. God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son…”

He finishes the prayer of Absolution and sends the man on his way. When he’s gone, Wolfwood all but kicks Vash out of the confessional booth.

“‘Thank you’?!”

“He blessed me!” Vash rubs his ass as he stands up. Ouch, the church tiles are painful to land on.

“No, he blessed me, you dumbass. You’re lucky he’s only marginally dumber than you so he won’t tell the whole church I was fucking the blonde in the confessional box!”

“I’m sorry, I had to sneeze,” Vash whines as he dusts off his jeans. He stares at Wolfwood with those big, dumb, blue puppy eyes again, and it makes Wolfwood groan and pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I’m going to hell. Get out of my church.” He is too mad to remember the golden ring of light around Vash’s head when he sneezed. He just wants Vash out of here so he can forget this ever happened.

“I’ll be in Mass tomorrow.”

“Oh, no, you are never allowed in here again.” Wolfwood shakes his head at him and points towards the door. 

“Why not?”

“Because–” I’ll fall in love with you, I’ll break my faith, I’ll do worse things to you than just kiss you in a confessional booth. “Because. Just go.”

Vash gives him a parting look, as if he has something he wants to say, but he says nothing. He just nods and sulks out of the church. 

Unfortunately everything seems a bit dimmer once he is gone. Wolfwood sighs and rubs the back of his neck as he walks toward his office, feeling listless again. Somehow, though, he knows deep in his heart that Vash will come back, and they will both make the same mistake all over again.

[mothzarellaman]

actually you know what

shout out to that one project i started and never finished that was designing every dsmp character. i did a couple collages but never finished. here were the ones done so far. (w/ notes!)

I was just kinda going for the general fanon consensus on their design ngl. i wanted to go for more unique color pallete, i think, and while i haven't seen their stuff, i just put together smth that looked neat ngl

I don't really see any ant designs that like. do anything more than make him a anthro cat. maybe i dont see enough ant designs, who knows. i also never see him in glasses. so i like the concept of him having glasses that kinda have cat ears because i think they're cool lookin. also wanted some puss in boots inspo. wanted to lean into the 'frost' part of his name too, hence the blue-ish tones. and wanted to throw in some red velvet colors for obvious reasons.

I just kinda threw together design elements i've seen and liked in sam lol. i think creeper centaur sam slaps, and i like it when people draw cat like creepers because its funny. I also was trying to go for unique crowns for the like 5 people on the server that had them.

i wanted to go for like the reds and blacks that he's known for obviously, and tried to lean into the cult thing with the egg with some choices. the AI art at the bottom was added because this was before i realized how awful it was, because i thought it would be neat to play around with design choices i wouldn't have thought of otherwise. the spider lily is actually due to my concept of having every eggpire member associated with a certain part of a plant, with bad being the petals.

Again, another streamer i dont really know. just went for things that vibed.

as you can tell i had no ideas for callahan. maybe i was trying to go for like an android?? idk man. the electric mask was for the concept of instead of talking obviously , the words would just scroll across his face. deer cape because capes are cool.

as you can tell, i was losing motivation for cool designs and lacked inspiration. the land siren thing is actually my own concept/explanation for hybrids. basically a species thats highly adaptive that mirrors humans and often eats them. got land, marine, and air. all based off of animals that live there.

i think i just wanted to bully connor ngl. i think his sonic onesie should be like the og movie sonic. terrifying. he also gets participation trophies.

Wanted to go for like a big mix of stuff with dream because i had too many concepts. wanted some stuff from cat because, ya know, green and black. black mamba dream is cool, idk where i saw it, but its cool. i also like the concept of dream with butterfly traits to mimic moth/spider tommy. because butterflies are freaky but most people like em. the gold heart is because i associate that texture with the revive book. yada yada. this was also made before the dream drama came out.

kinda just what i said in the image. the words cut off are made and portal. don't got much else.

i remember seeing an object head for eret that had them as a nether star and its lived in my head rent free for a while. plus me and @espion7971 had an entire joke thing about eret being a god, so there's some vibes there. also the cosplay that isn't eret is by Ihaveakarrotproblem from the dsmp reddit. ( https://www.reddit.com/r/dreamsmp/comments/rnxly4/my_eret_cosplay/ )

and eryn is where i stopped. never finished him. wanted to go for like a parasitic nether fungus i think, to explain his bloody arm because i think it would be neat.

[understandableparadox]

Bottom of the barrel isekai review

In this world there is a force far greater then anything we are used it. a creature that has been evolving since the dawn of life itself on this blue rock we dare make it share.

its teeth endless, its speed in-escapable, its power awe-inspiring. forcing those who witness it to create stories in celebration and worship around it.

what could this creature be? what could demand the respect of humans to such a degree that it has cemented itself as the oceanic Apex?

we are going to review the manga "Killer shark in another world".

we start at an adventureing academy for young summoners in the midst of a existinal war for the country, here young students summon their monster so that they may train with them and join the ranks in order to free their country men from the threat of the encroaching demonic army.

we then focus on our main charecter, shiromi! a young girl who has shown lack luster spirtual ability, but has been getting dreams of a odd creature. deeming them to be prophetic. her dreams prove to be visions as she summons a small shark.

right off the bat, im in fucking love. do you want to know the story? fuck you, sharks.

i'm makeing the story synopis quick so i can show you pictures from this shit.

she is deemed a traitor and kicked out and goes on a world trotting adventure to try to keep her shark summon from killing everyone and chipping away at the forces of the demon kings army.

this manga is a breath of fresh air. it is every b- teir schlock shark movie intagrated into an isekai.

to me the greater story of it is irrelevant, as is the story of a movie like sharknado, because you aren't here for the fucking plot of sharknado, you are not here for the story of Meg, you are here to watch a Big ass shark rip shit up expeditiously and watch some fucking explosions.

this manga provides that, it tenderly swaddles you in the viscera of its imagery and force feeds you scenes of delightful gratuitous violence towards anything that has a pulse and can be deemed even slightly annoying.

it is indiscriminate, it is magnanimous, the shark is the strongest motherfucker on gods blue marble and it will find ways to become stronger. it is a shark blessed with the powers of Every Single God Damn Shark Movie ever invented by the sick twisted minds of humanities most beloathed film makers.

is it impressive art wise? no, but only when its not drawing sharks. the moment the author is allowed to draw a shark, their autism sparks to live and we are blessed with the fucking magic that is the motherfucking shark.

is it impresssive story wise? No, its a shark running around eating random demon lords and people. nothing makes sense, the technology and culture make no sense. the villians motives make no sense. every where you turn the story bends itself to get itself to the next shark moment and you will grovel before it and thank it for how quick its dragging you to the nexts Blood Feast that it has loveingly prepared for you.

hell, even when trying to tell a story, it will take breaks in itself to go and kill a random isekai charecter from a completely different manga. and every time it rips into a shitty isekai protag, i have to fan myself like a god damn southeren belle that caught a glimpse of that kindly cowboys buns flexing while framed in those chaps. it has made me fall in love with it, a deep desperate love of what it has to show me next. what new and insane bullshit will it concoct? which motherfucker is about to get eaten?

the manga is endlessly creative in the same way that shark movies are endlessly creative. finding new ways to give this one shark insane and bat shit powers based on various movies. finding brand new ways to leave the world that it inhabits in shambles with millions of fucking shark bites ripped out of it.

all i can do is recommend that you go and read through this, its a short 27 chapter things and its not ever yet, but i promise you it will itch all the right spots on your brain if you are like me and have read all the shittiest isekais one can read.

Shark/10

[ultfreakme]

Who are your favorite romantic relationship's couples in books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series (can be canon or non-canon)? Feel free if you want to write the reasons or not of why you love them...

Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

Hi Anon!! Hope you're doing well! OOOOH this is a tough one, I have so many ships I enjoy, I think I change pairings and find new ones every few months. But if I had to pick........

AkaFuri (Akashi x Furihata from Kuroko No Basuke): I've shipped them the longest, I'm pretty sure my writing got better through writing and researching for fics of the ship. I also transitioned from traditional to digital drawing through drawing this ship, so yay it's them! I love them because Furihata was someone Akashi and everyone underestimated but Furihata defied everyone's expectations, conquered his fears and managed to stand up against him. Kuroko and the Seirin basketball team changed Akashi's opinions and made him see everyone as equals, but Furihata sorta kickstarted that.

ItaJun (Itadori x Junpei from Jujutsu Kaisen): I actually shipped them back when JJK was first airing! So that's three years with them dear god. I made a post about them but to summarize, I love the potential they had & loved how they clicked together!

Zukka (Zuko x Sokka from Avatar The Last Airbender): This one's relatively new but they got me obsessed enough to write a 300k word for for them and made me go on an unstoppable and frankly unhealthy drawing spree for months (I have a callous on my hand...unsure if it's because of just them but they definitely didn't help). I love their dynamic, they play off each other well, make up for each other's weaknesses and their interactions are always funny to watch. They're very cute to me.

JonJay/JayJon (Jon Kent x Jay Nakamura from DC Comics): A CANON COUPLE!!! They're very adorable and I enjoyed watching the way they helped each other get to their goals in their introduction comic as a couple(Superman Son of Kal El). Watching Superman be bi and have an Asian bf was just, very inspiring. The way Jon's heroism and ideals are defined by Jay's ideals is so cool.

I have a lot more which I can put as honorable mentions: Korrasami (The Legend of Korra), SatoSugu(Jujutsu Kaisen), Stucky (the Captain America Trilogy was awesome and the only part I like from the MCU), KiriBaku(I think I'm pretty much over them now unless I get back into BNHA), Calliette(bring back First Kill please please PLEASE), XiCheng(Jiang Cheng x Lan Xichen from MDZS), BingQiu & MoShang (both from Scum Villain Self-Saving system).

These are the ones I remember. There's probably some crucial formative ship for me that I'm missing but rn I think this is it.

My qualifications for being obsessed with a ship are:

HAS to be gay

They should be complementary in some way

The franchise they come from needs to have a plot that isn't their relationship, but their relationship, or just the character's motivation is sorta woven into the overarching theme of the story. Example; In AkaFuri, Furihata is instrumental in defeating Akashi and his team because Furihata isn't there to exactly take down Akashi. He CAN'T. But if he works with everyone else on his team, he stands a chance and can make a difference. The ultimate theme of KNB is that we should value friendship, teammates and should lift each other up rather than view the world as enemies to defeat. Korra and Asami are seemingly polar opposite with Korra being a representative of spirits while Asami is a representative of human technological advancement. TLOK is about harmony between these two aspects of the world, and Korrasami's relationship is a representation of that. I think pretty much all my ships can work like that (Jiang Cheng is too cynical, never lets anyone close and is prone to conflict, Lan Xichen is too trusting and too complicit, never wanting conflict and therefore not really confronting anything and BOTH of these flaws of theirs are to their detriment, etc etc).

I think I like ships which I can use to examine the themes of the main story, and see how the union of two people could influence the meaning of the canon.

And, I'll be honest, it's also about how aesthetic they are together and how good the smut potential is. It's shipping in the end, and I can write thousand-word meta essays but also be going gaga over their smut lmao.

Hope this was an adequate reply!! Also please don't apologize, I hadn't answered this before I think? haha i keep forgetting what i write.

[peterrrei]

i've been listening to your charmuro playlist a lot (i follow you on twitter lol, idk if you posted it here) and i was wondering if you'd want to elaborate on any of your choices...all the sad young men is one that caught me off guard but also makes so much sense to me

hi there! sorry for the very late reply! but oh my god. thank you for sending me this ask because it gave me enough motivation to write down some notes about my playlist and order it a bit because — its a lot LOL

first of all i would like to mention that yes, it’s a charmuro playlist, but you cannot take lalah out of charmuro ♡ so i’ve added songs that somehow fit her point of view, or hint at her presence. i love lalah so much and it makes me sad when people take her out of char and amuro’s relationship or minimize the impact that she had on both of them. (but don’t ask me to define whatever those three had going on because i don’t know. it’s vague. vague is okay in my mind but i would love to make people see my vision. in a few years i will maybe find the words to describe it)

ANYWAY THE PLAYLIST! i’m sorting it in a kind of chronological way, but it gets vague and blurry sometimes because i also think it’s important for a playlist to flow well (and to have songs that i actually like listening to! and it vagueness works for gundam....)

some examples:

∙ 1979 by the smashing pumpkins this song is really great because it truly is an anthem of a new young generation, which is a focal point of gundam! the pain and angst and comfort of late teenagehood/early adulthood ♡

On a live wire right up off the street You and I should meet <-( a jolt of electricity is the kind of feeling i can imagine newtypes feel when they connect with each other) June bug skipping like a stone With the headlights pointed at the dawn We were sure we'd never see an end to it all <- buggy stuck in the mud scene my beloved ♡

∙ familiar feeling by moloko i wasn’t even looking for charmuro coded songs when i found this band! but my delusional heart can see charmuro where the normal person can’t <3 anyway this is definitely a zeta song. i have in illustration in mind for the charmuro zine i’m very slowly drawing/writing that is completely based off their reunion in zeta and this song.

Nothing can come close Nothing can come close Nothing can come close

I never doubted it What's for you will not pass you by I never questioned it It was decided before I asked why It's all there ever was And it's all there ever will be How could you have questioned us? It's yourself you deceive

Nothing can come close To this familiar feeling We say it all without Ever speaking

god this song is so so so perfect and really encapsulates the hings about gundam that i love: vagueness, intense human emotions, sharing these emotions, identity and masked identity, love. perfection

Hush now No need to say the words At first sight you perfectly heard Love in all its entirety Is no less than we deserve I saw, your face Some place I felt this feeling before Is it deja vu? Do I somehow know you? <- this this this! adrenaline still filling the air after battle, amuro sits on the mechanical hand of a Gundam. he hasn’t seen one in over eight years. he has called for him before even realizing he opened his mouth to speak. char. amuro. who are you? do i know you? what is this feeling? have i felt this before?

∙ all the sad young men by spector you said it caught you off guard but it makes sense and i agree! i had the same thought process. it’s a song ive listened to many many times but it occurred to me that it fits charmuro only recently! well-- maybe it’s more of a generic gundam feeling. i am also working on a “generic gundam feelings” playlist.. it’s still private though. it’s called anime ja nai :’)

And no, nothing ever really started with a kiss &lt;- YEAH

I don't wanna make love I don't wanna make plans I don't want anyone to wanna hold my hand <- i don’t know if this makes me think more of char or amuro. and because of that it’s perfect

It begins in the places that we leave behind Every year that goes by a little less future on our minds These girls like to pretend they can't feel anything anymore (...........gundam women..........) Boys break like promises, but only behind closed doors (gundam men.......................)

∙ raise me up by hercules and love affair including an explanation of why i think this song is charmuro is difficult. it just is to me. just like truefalse/fakereal by the same band

My secret love Keeps me awake at night My secret love of the man My secret fight They put you down They pushed your face down They fucked you aver and around You kissed the ground You're the one I waited for your return I slept with rocks I slept with stones Stone was my home Energy Life danced right out of me When my father busted you free He also killed me <- kinda makes me think of zeon daikun dooming amuro ray to have an intense yaoi thing with his son. lol Oh raise me up To dance upon your head Oh raise me up To dance in the holes of your head <- !! Oh raise me up To dance in the cavities of Your eyes <- and this!!!!! i need more of this!!!!!!

∙ a beginner’s guide to destroying the moon by foster the people this song was suggested to me by my discover weekly and the lyrics instantly made me think of char and amuro. cca feelings

I can't blame you I can't save you But I will try for you and I For you and I, I won't find out All the dirty little things that you've done But I will try For you and I, I will breathe in All the truth I can stomach If it keeps you alive <-amuro (I would break you Before I let you fall into the blind For you and I) <- char We've changed the dreamers and the Preachers and the wise men on the hill To concrete stepping smilers terrified to lose their power and control We've been crying for a leader to speak like the old prophets The blood of the forgotten wasn't Spilled without a purpose, or was it? And now, I'm staring at the moon Wondering why the bottom fell out

and again:

To smash the wall of apathy Stop your self-importance And lift the weight off somebody else Yeah, you'll never be whole Yeah, you'll never be whole Until you lose control <- this is directed at both of them

∙ i might be wrong by radiohead major cca charmulalah feelings here...

I might be wrong I could have sworn I saw a light coming on I used to think There was no future left at all I used to think <- char (Open up, begin again Let's go down the waterfall Think about the good times and never look back Never look back) <- lalah What would I do? <- char What would I do? <- amuro If I did not have you? <- ooooooh yes! your lives were irreparably changed the day char stepped on side 7 in 0079 ∙ bleed by george clanton charmuro in its messiness, ugliness and intensity. i absolutely love the progression in the song. starting slow until it builds up to the explosion of kaleidoscopic sounds (that is not a proper way to describe a sound right? but i wouldn’t describe it any other way <3)

Someone else can make you happy Someone else can show you a good time A good time Someone else can say "I'm Sorry" Someone else can fight and tell you lies But not like I do Not like me Someone else can bite until you bleed Make you bleed Not like I do Not like me

∙ the man who sold the world (sung by midge ure. i just like that version better, sounds so ethereal. plus im a metal gear fan lmao) this song really evokes the change between masks char went through. amuro — there to see them all

Although I wasn't there He said I was his friend Which came as a surprise I spoke into his eyes I thought you died alone A long long time ago

Oh no, not me We never lost control You're face to face With the man who sold the world

(I gazed a gazely stare We walked a million hills I must have died alone A long, long time ago)

∙ day by bill callahan this is maybe one of the cheesiest songs in the playlist but i just love it so much. and. i mean. what is gundam without cheesiness? to me this songs feels a lot like a conversation between cca char and amuro. the kind of disdain towards the humanity that has reduced earth to such a wasteland planet vs the hope that humanity is indeed good and we must strive toward the light, even though it is so hard

Some people are a sickness on this land They're killing, they're taking They're stealing whatever they can Anything, anything, anything That is not bolted down Your life, your money, your heart, your faith, your bike

and then again:

Some would ask What are we to do With a world that crumbles to the touch? A world that spins and dies where it stands Like trying ain't enough?

but listen to me:

To family is all you can do And strive toward the light It's as dark as night Strive toward the light I know it's as dark as night I know it's as dark as night

It is day though

∙ la vita fa schifo by le feste antonacci umm haha italian moment. this playlist should have more italian moments and i am working on that. anyway the lyrics to this song is just life sucks life sucks life sucks life suckssss in various dramatic intonations. life did kinda suck for char and amuro right? lmao. i am the kinda person that says oh well la vita fa schifo over the smallest problems. i just thought it would be funny to think about char and amuro dying and both being like. well. la vita fa schifo. what the fuck was everyone’s problem.

∙ l’amour toujours by gigi d’agostino NOW HEAR ME OUT. this started as a meme between me and my partner. of putting this song over the credits of very dramatic movies. it’s because it was the credit song of uncut gems, it really stunned us the first time we finished that movie bc we joke about that song so much, it’s basically italy’s national anthem. so we joked about char’s counterattack ending and instead of beyond the time, l’amour toujours starts playing. po poporopo poporopo po poro po po poroporopo. but then also— you know what? the lyrics fits charmuro too. LMAO (delusional) I still believe in your eyes I just don't care what you have done in your life Baby, I'll always be here by your side Don't leave me waiting too long, Please come byI still believe in your eyes There is no choice, I belong to your life Because I will live to love you someday You'll be my baby and we'll fly away And I'll fly with you, I'll fly with you, I'll fly with you

basically the credits song of my playlist :')

um okay haha! i think i will stop for now bc this is a lot... thank you again for this ask!

[kwangyadetective]

🏁 Ay-Yo: Lore Elements and Thoughts

First theory post of 2023!!! But the reason why I am not writing this as an official theory is because... I’m confused😭 I remember saying I have some thoughts about Ay-Yo but after some thinking... it just doesn’t add up.

Looking at the MV itself, it feels like this Repackage, the MV is more towards aesthetic than lore? Plus even Dream’s Repackage Beatbox doesn’t really add up to the story in Glitch Mode. So it might be safe to say that Repackage MVs don’t exactly have a connection? Well either way, I have decided that If I want to write a full theory, I’d rather wait for their next comeback. BUTT if maybe a new idea came to mind so of course I will make another post.

Initially I wanted to draw some ideas from the term ‘Valhalla’ since they mentioned it a lot and it stands out.

“It is described as a majestic hall located in Asgard and presided over by the god Odin. Half of those who die in combat enter Valhalla, while the other half are chosen by the goddess Freyja to reside in Fólkvangr. (Wikipedia)

“The idea of an afterlife in Valhalla was a strong motivating force for the Vikings, especially before they went into battle, because only the fallen warriors that the god Odin deemed worthy and brave enough could reach Valhalla.“ (Encyclopedia Britannia)

In short, it is like heaven for the heroes. At first I thought maybe like this is where the Neos go after they faced the snake in 2Baddies, but looking at the MV, the overall look and aesthetics just don’t make sense. Shouldn’t the place look more heavenly? Less futuristic and their clothes look too street.

With that out of the way, lets just jump into the elements

1. Wormhole

It was mentioned in the lyrics.

“I pass through the wormhole”

A wormhole isn’t something new in the Neos lore. Essentially it took them from one place to another, or the dream world to the Reality. In their past contents, I don’t remember them using it if they were to travel from Dream to Reality UNLESS when it was NCT2020 since it involves way more people. Plus that’s a different story than the usual Dream-Reality back and forth traveling. My speculation is that, it might be needed for another NCT union project, whether its this year or next year.

2. Dream-Red and Reality-Blue

If you look into that room where Johnny and Yuta were in the MV, it changes colors from Blue to Red. When ithe light was Red, you can see that the members were doing abnormal things like floating or walking in air. This is because in the Dream world you have more possibilities and free while in Reality, you are restricted. This is a common idea since 2018 of the color associations. It makes sense too why there are many Red in the MV because they are in a Dream.

3. Jaehyun

Jaehyun definitely has an important role because he was in the snake’s grasp. Thought I’m not very sure of why he is wearing a suit, wore some sunglasses, and was walking around in the MV. I just think they could make him do more things to continue the story? This is why I think this MV is more on aesthetics.

4. Doyoung and Jungwoo Synchronizing

It really reminds me of their YearDream Resonance video and yes. Jungwoo and Doyoung were even seen together in Favorite and I can see that they are in alliance. The closest thought I have to a storyline is that the two are communicating and are aware of what’s happening with the others from 2Baddies. They might be thinking of a way of rescuing them. But this is what I have so far since there aren’t any more actions yet. At the very least, they know something and are communicating.

5. Ripples/Sound waves

Specifically, if you look at this timestamp 2:12, there are two that are colliding(?) with one another. These are sound waves, I have once explained it in another post, basically each neo has these vibrations in the Dream world and when they collide, it creates even bigger vibrations like a chain reaction. It means that they are resonating. Read more about this on 📡 United: Conclusion to NCT2021 and NCT2020.

Conclusion

The MV seems like just a general concept of how their lore works, that is if you already know how it goes😭 Again, the story isn’t that clear. I’m not saying I don’t like it either, I love Ay-Yo after all. But visuals-wise, their approach is different in this Repackage. ESPECIALLY their photoshoot. We’ll see how the story continues in their next comeback... hopefully..

[myriadof-fandoms]

harringrove week day 7 - and in this light i think i'm falling, I'm falling for you

prompt: summer time camping

ao3 link

Heat has settled over Hawkins like a blanket. A thick gelatine-like mass that slows everything down.  

The days pass by slowly, turning from one into the other without much difference. Work, pool, time with the kids, sleep. Work, pool, calling his parents, sleep. Work, pool, hanging out with Robin, sleep. Billy, Billy, Billy. 

Billy watching him from his lifeguard seat, tongue out like the menace that he is. Billy throwing himself into the pool in Steve's backyard. Billy's mouth on his neck. Billy's hands all over him. 

Heat makes Steve lazy. He'll spend hours on his bed watching the sun slowly set and paint his room in soft tones of gold and orange. Lost in thoughts of no real importance.

It's even better with Billy in between his legs. He comes alive with the sun beating down. California boy through and through. Makes him sweeter. He’s happy to spend hours like this, just giving into the heat and passing it by playing all of Steve’s tapes. 

Currently, Billy’s playing any Beatles’ album he can find. Humming along, making comments that swim in the air between them.

He indulges Steve, drifts into his laziness, rewards him for it by laying down between his spread legs and sucking him off.

Unrushed and filthy. Looking up at Steve with baby blue eyes in a haze and hair that looks like a halo in the evening light.

Billy might be on his knees but Steve’s not sure who is worshipping who now. 

Perhaps it’s a tie, Billy showing devotion by confessing to his sins and drawing whimpers out of Steve and Steve giving his soul over in return.

Billy sinks further down on him and Steve loses any and all thoughts in him. 

When Billy moves back up he presses kisses over Steve's chest, taking his sweet time to bite a hickey onto his collarbone, before he finally really kisses Steve.

More filth for the heat. Their tongues moving together and Steve tasting himself on Billy's. Little noises in the back of their throats. 

Then Billy is settling next to him on his side, moving away and only leaving his hand on Steve’s still heaving stomach. One single place of contact, instead of clinging together like they usually do. It's not the right temperature for that.

Steve never listened much when he went to church with his parents. He’s never put much thought into God and there isn’t much motivation in him to start now. What doesn’t sit quite right with him is that something that feels so much like how he would picture heaven is supposed to send him to hell though. 

He figures he’ll have an alright time wherever he ends up as long as Billy ends up there too.

It’s too heavy of a thought to carry through this day, though.

They don’t really speak while they watch the sun set. There’ll be more time for conversation later, maybe when they take another late night swim and bathe in the rarity of a moment of coolness. 

Billy’s hand moves over Steve’s skin from time to time, drawing lines between the moles dotted all over. He hums along to the music that gently continues to play in the background and Steve drifts in and out of sleep, led by Billy’s voice.

You really got a hold on me

Baby, I love you and all that I want you to do

Is just hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me

[windowlessatmosphere]

Have You Ever Been Sketched?, Ch.2

Read on AO3

Summary: Izzy confronts Lucius about just exactly how he managed to get Izzy's knife away from him, and Lucius is having the time of his life.

“That doesn’t  count!”

“What doesn’t count?”

“I—you—obviously, that was cheating, and not, y’know, within the rules, and—anyway, just give it back and we’ll start over,” Izzy grouched, cheeks red and gaze fixed firmly on the ground as he held his hand out to Lucius for the knife.

“Oh my god,” Lucius rolled his eyes dramatically. “Izzy,” he started with exaggerated patience, “do I have your knife?”

“I—yes?”

“Is it before sundown?”

“Well, I mean, yes, but—”

“Did I fight you for it? Did someone else get it for me?”

“No, but that’s—”

“And it was on you the whole time,” Lucius finished, taking a step closer and fixing his gaze on Izzy. “So I don’t really see how that wasn’t ‘within the rules’, or whatever,” he made air quotes as he spoke.

“I—that was—I was  distracted,” Izzy hissed through his teeth, leaning forward so as not to be overheard.

“Yeah, you were,” Lucius answered immediately, obviously holding back laughter.

“Right, so that’s cheating, and we’ll start over,” Izzy gestured as he spoke, realizing he didn’t see the knife anywhere on Lucius. “Where is it?”

“Mmm, that’s for me to know, and you to find out—later,” Lucius singsonged, relishing in once again getting the upper hand over Izzy. “Besides, it’s not cheating. If I wasn’t allowed to use  all  the tools at my disposal, you should’ve put it in the rules.”

“I didn’t think you would…do  that,” Izzy protested, glancing to the side to make sure nobody was getting too close to their conversation.

“Really?” Lucius snorted, crossing his arms. “When you know I’ve been a proper little seductress?” he threw Izzy’s words back in his face, causing him to clench his jaw and glare up at Lucius.

“So this was just—what, a joke? To get back at me for that?” Izzy scoffed, trying to convey with his tone that he hadn’t hoped for anything else. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as he realized Lucius had only been messing with him, didn’t really want to draw him at all, couldn’t possibly want anything else from him, why would he, anyway, it’s not like he didn’t already have Pete, and Fang, and half the  bloody  ship pining after him, he didn’t need Israel Hands, and neither did Blackbeard, and neither did anybody  fucking  else, and—

“Izzy?” The note of concern in Lucius’ voice tore him out of his internal monologue, a brief reprieve from his self-loathing until he realized that Lucius’ concern actually meant something to him, and quickly added that to the pile of things to stamp out as soon as possible. “It wasn’t a joke, love,” Lucius added softly, watching him with careful eyes, not afraid of  him  but afraid to upset him, which was a novelty.

“Then what?” Izzy’s voice was so hoarse he could barely hear it, and he couldn’t meet Lucius’ eyes anymore, feeling overwhelmed by the modicum of concern that was being shown.

“I…wanted to draw you,” Lucius replied startingly. Izzy couldn’t help but hold back a snort at that, though he couldn’t figure out why Lucius cared enough to lie about his motivations.

“Why the  fuck  would you want to draw me?” he pointed out the obvious, raising an eyebrow at Lucius and wanting to watch him struggle to answer. Instead, Lucius just raised an eyebrow in return.

“Seriously?” he asked incredulously, judgment obvious in his tone. When Izzy shook his head quizzically, he rolled his eyes and groaned. “Okay, you have  really  got to do something about your self-esteem, darling.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Izzy gritted out, frustrated. “You don’t have to—I know I’m nothing to write home about, looks wise. It’s fine. I’ve got…other qualities,” he finished lamely, starting a mental list and realizing all he could come up with was sword fighting and being Blackbeard’s first mate.

“I’ll say,” Lucius grinned at him again, making him wonder what on earth Lucius thought should make the list. “But looks are also up there,” he pressed, giving Izzy an appreciative once-over that left him flushed and feeling uneven.

“You  don’t  have to do that,” Izzy repeated, tone more insistent as he felt himself getting pissed off again.

“Jesus, Izzy,” Lucius sighed, giving him a  look. “C’mon then,” he turned, gesturing over his shoulder for Izzy to follow without looking back, like there was no chance of him being ignored. Izzy held firm for a beat before breaking and following Lucius, to his own frustration. Lucius led him back to Stede’s quarters, not listening to Izzy at all when he questioned whether they should be in what was, technically, the captain’s quarters. Not that he supposed that counted for much when Bonnet was the captain, he mused to himself. “Right, here we go,” Lucius grabbed his sketchbook off Stede’s desk, immediately opening it and flipping through until he got to a specific page. He handed it over to Izzy, whose eyebrows shot up without his permission when he saw that it was a sketch of Edward.

“Why are you showing me this?”

“It’s chronological. Pretty much, anyway.  This,” he pointed at the sketch of Edward, “is from the first day you lot came onto the ship. Go ahead,” he added, gesturing for Izzy to start flipping through the pages. Immediately, on the next page was a rough sketch of Edward in a different position, Izzy standing by his side. On the corresponding page was a sketch of just Izzy, showing just his profile from the shoulders up. He continued, flipping to the next page, seeing Fang and Ivan as well as another one of himself. He kept flipping. Edward. Bonnet. Izzy. Pete. Fang. Izzy. Frenchie. Ivan. Roach. Izzy. Izzy. Buttons. Izzy. Bonnet. Izzy. Izzy. Izzy. Pete again. Also, a lot of cocks, he noted, always flipping the pages quickly when he got to those sketches. There were scenes and objects interspersed as well, but Izzy was certainly one of the most featured players, he was realizing, face coloring against his will. He closed the sketchbook when he got to the last non-blank page, a sketch of most of the crew on deck, scowling a little at how Edward had been leaning against Bonnet. He handed the sketchbook back over to Lucius, refusing to make eye contact.

“Okay?” Lucius asked, taking the sketchbook from Izzy and putting it back where it had been lying on the desk.

“Okay,” he muttered, still keeping his eyes stubbornly fixed on the desk rather than Lucius.

“Still want to start over?” Lucius asked gently. “We can if you want,” he offered before Izzy could respond.

“No,” Izzy admitted quietly. “How did you–” he started before cutting himself off with silence.

“How did I…?” Lucius raised an eyebrow, putting a finger under Izzy’s chin and gently lifting his head until they were making eye contact.

“How did—I mean, I know I was… distracted,” Izzy got out, both hating and reveling in the feeling of Lucius’ eyes on his. “But still…how did you get the knife?”

“Used to be a bit of a pickpocket,” Lucius scrunched up his face as he talked. “Not really my finest hour. I don’t even really like to talk about it, so,” he shrugged.

“Where is it?” Izzy eyed Lucius curiously, scanning over his clothing for any giveaways and finding none.

“Shush. You’ll get it back when I’m done,” Lucius waved him off, clearly unconcerned.

“That was  not  part of the deal!”

“No,” Lucius hummed, agreeing. “But I’ve got to have some way of making sure you don’t run off on me before I’ve finished,” he tapped Izzy on the nose, flustering the older man. “C’mon,” he put a hand on Izzy’s shoulder and started walking him backwards. Towards the bed, Izzy realized after a moment.

“I—what?” he asked helplessly.

“What?” Lucius’ tone was innocent, though a smirk was playing around the corners of his mouth.

“What are you doing?” Izzy was reluctant to admit that a bit of a desperate note had entered his tone.

“Putting you on the bed.”

  “What?”

“For the  lighting, god, Izzy,” Lucius tutted at him, gesturing to the large windows letting the sunlight stream in.

“Right,” Izzy’s voice was tight as he sat down on the bed stiffly, flinching when a hand came up to run through his hair.

“You could relax a little,” Lucius suggested, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind his ears before removing his hand from Izzy’s hair. He tried to resist the urge to lean after the hand, knowing he’d hate himself if he did.

“I’m relaxed,” Izzy forced out through gritted teeth, tone completely at odds with his words.

“...Right,” Lucius sighed. “You could take the shoes off? Or the vest?” Izzy realized he probably looked a little ridiculous, all his layers of black leather and his boots still on, sitting on the nicest bed he’s ever seen in the fanciest, most ridiculous excuse for a captain’s quarters he could imagine. Sunlight softly falling through the window onto clean linens and fine fabric, and him, crouched in on himself and trying to disappear through sheer force of will.

“I’ll take off the damn boots,” he finally conceded, grinding his teeth as he removed them, leaving them where they fell. Lucius grabbed the boots, putting them off neatly to the side of the bed on his way back to the desk. He took his sketchbook from the desk before folding himself softly into a chair across from the bed and opening to a blank page.

“Ready?” he asked absentmindedly, grabbing a quill with his left hand. There was a beat of silence before Izzy responded.

“...Yeah. Ready.”

[wordforwordbiblecomic]

Was the Golden Calf an Apis Bull?

In the Bible comic, I now need to draw the Golden Calf of Exodus 32. I’ve thought for a long time that this would be an Apis Bull so I did some research into whether this is actually likely…

What is an Apis Bull

The Apis was a live bull that was considered to be a sort of physical incarnation of the god Ptah; the "soul of Ptah" or "herald of Ptah, kept in the temple of Ptah, in Memphis. The bull was, therefore, a kind of servant or intermediary, who was itself divine. It was revealed to the populace in a procession and its movements were interpreted as oracles and were thought to reflect the responses of Ptah. It was fed the best foods, slept on luxurious bedding, given hot baths, massaged, and perfumed and upon its death, the body was embalmed, and then solemnly interred in the temple of Serapis at Memphis.

The Apis is usually depicted as a black bull a sun disk between his horns and an uraeus snake emerging before the disk.

The Apis is described by the Greek researcher Herodotus:

The Apis is the calf of a cow which is never afterwards able to have another. The Egyptian belief is that a flash of light descends upon the cow from heaven, and this causes her to conceive Apis. The Apis-calf has distinctive marks: it is black, with a white square [or triangle] on its forehead, the image of an eagle on its back, the hair on its tail double, and a scarab under its tongue.

(More info on Apis : https://www.virtual-egyptian-museum.org/Collection/FullVisit/Collection.FullVisit-JFR.html?../Content/MET.LL.00887.html&0 )

Was the Golden Calf an Apis?

I think the key thing to remember is that the Israelites had lived in Egypt for generations, the people Moses lead might have been genetically Hebrew, but they were also Egyptian nationals through and through. Some of the multitudes that left of the Exodus were even non-Jewish (Exodus 12:38).

When the people thought they’d lost Moses, they turned back to their old ways. I do not believe they plucked the idea of a bull out of thin air or as a lottery, it was something they already knew.

On this website “Why a Golden Calf and not any other symbol?” Jonathan Frankel writes:

There were other Egyptian and Canaanite bull cults, e.g. Buchis, Mnevis, El, which could have been the inspiration for the Golden Calf, however, the specific chronicity, procedures and celebrations of the Apis Calf are highly suggestive that it was the motivation behind the Golden Calf. Moshe [Moses] had been on Har Sinai for 40 days and presumed dead and the Golden Calf arrived on the 40th day, just as an Apis Calf is prepared and revealed after 40 days following the death of its predecessor. The calf was made of gold, just as the Apis Calf arrived at the temple in a golden cabin. The people wanted an intermediate to serve between them and god, so Aharon created for them the religious entity they were familiar with in Egypt that served as an intermediate between them and god. And just as the Egyptians would celebrate the arrival of a new Apis Calf, so too the Israelites celebrated the arrival of their new intermediary. 

Next is the statement which is the source of the above statements:

“Since the Apis Bull was a living creature, it would eventually die, prompting… the search for a new Apis bull…. This new Apis would be a calf…. they took it to Nilopolis for 40 days of feeding after which time it was transferred via a boat inside a gold cabin to the temple of Ptah where it was greeted by the people who came to view their reincarnated god and hoped to have their questions answered.” (A Popular Account of the Ancient Egyptians: Volume 1: John Gardner Wilkinson)

As these elements pertain to a living bull, if the Golden calf was a statue (see below) it would not have been able to move, but this may have been the symbolic significance.

If they viewed the Golden Calf as a sort of reincarnation of Moses (whom they presumed dead) and a divine entity then it makes a little more sense of the statement said about the Golden Calf “Then they said, ‘These are your gods, Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt.’” (Exodus 32:4b)

Examples of Apis Bull statues are evident in this era (the example below is from within approx 50 years of the Exodus).

Looking at many commentaries and Archaeological study bibles most seem to land on the opinion that the Golden calf was “most likely” an Apis Bull.

I made my own mind up when I read a different website which struggled with the language used regarding Aarons's creation of the bull. Exodus 32:4 is rendered in the NIV “He took what they handed him and made it into an idol cast in the shape of a calf, fashioning it with a tool.”

How exactly did Aaron form this calf? The only other use of the word cheret suggests that it means a stylus:

ישעיה ח:א וַיֹּאמֶר יְ־הוָה אֵלַי קַח לְךָ גִּלָּיוֹן גָּדוֹל וּכְתֹב עָלָיו בְּחֶרֶט אֱנוֹשׁ. : Isa 8:1 Then the Lord said to me, “Get yourself a large sheet and write on it with a human stylus” (my translation).

Some translations rendered it in Exodus according to this meaning:

- LXX: “formed them with a graving tool” (ἔπλασεν αὐτὰ ἐν τῇ γραφίδι);

- Onkelos: וְצָר יָתֵיהּ בְּזִיפָא, “and he formed it with a chisel,”

- Martin Luther’s 1545 translation: “designed it with a stylus” (entwarf's mit einem Griffel),

- King James (KJV): “fashioned it with a graving tool.”

I think this detail of this engraving tool/stylus in the language which translators struggle to conceive of as useful in moulding a golden sculpture is actually a big conformation of the gold calf being an Apis, to my mind.

Look closely at the idol and the engraved patterns around the neck, the eagle over the shoulders and flanks, the blanket and other lines. (Also on the idol from c. 1400 BC above)

Who is Ptah

The fact that the Apis is connected to Ptah is an additional reason why the connection makes sense. As I mentioned above, the Israelite people were Egyptian nationals born and bred, and their understanding of YHWH was likely coloured by the national religion of the Egyptian pantheon, or at the very least they might think about which of the pantheon of gods would most equate to YHWH. So who was Ptah? Wikipedia states it succinctly:

Ptah is an Egyptian creator god who conceived the world and brought it into being through the creative power of speech. A hymn to Ptah dating to the Twenty-second Dynasty of Egypt says Ptah "crafted the world in the design of his heart," and the Shabaka Stone, from the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty, says Ptah "gave life to all the gods and their kas [souls] as well, through this heart and this tongue." […]

Epiphets: Ptah the begetter of the first beginning, Ptah lord of truth, Ptah lord of eternity, Ptah who listens to prayers, Ptah master of ceremonies, Ptah master of justice.

As the pre-existent creator god and lord of truth and justice, you can imagine how the Israelites would equate him with YHWH. If they did and sort a new intermediary between them and God then following the pattern for Ptah is somewhat understandable.

What if the Golden Calf was alive?

I also wondered if it is possible that the Golden Calf could have been a living Apis bull. I.e. a living calf dressed up in golden finery or a golden covering perhaps. Looking at the verses it all seems very possible except for Exodus 32:4 which says it is moulded and 32:24 where Aaron says (stupidly) he put the gold in the fire and the calf came out. So it doesn’t seem that the text can support a living Apis Bull in gold.

Other Ideas

Some scholars suggest the calf was merely a pedestal or mount, as other idols are depicted atop a bull. The idea was that the golden calf was a pedestal for an invisible God. This however doesn’t seem consistent with the language used about the idol and the reaction of Moses and God to its creation. If the Golden Bull was supposed be a divine intermediary replacing Moses and telling them the will of YHWH, then the reaction does fit well.

Conclusion

For the reasons stated of the connection to Ptah, the people’s desire for a new intermediary, the engraving work on the statue and the cultural connections I think it is very likely that what they created was an idol statue of an Apis Bull.

Here is the uncoloured image I created for Acts 7: 40-41

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