#hope you guys enjoy as well <3

[euphor1a]

Best morning ever | cyj

↬ pairing: yeonjun x f!reader

↬ genre: established relationship, domestic au, fluff (if you squint), smut, pwp.

↬ summary: you wake up to your boyfriend between your legs; not that you’re complaining.

↬ rating: 18+ (minors dni)

↬ word count: ~1.9K

↬ warnings/tags: profanity, brief somnophilia(?), dom/sub undertones, cunnilingus, dirty talk, use of pet names, unprotected, penetrative sex, praising, cream pie.

↬ navigation

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🌺 a/n ꒱ hi, hello <3! this is actually the first ever txt fanfic i wrote, back when i started! today, i bring you an edited and ✨enhanced✨ version of the original piece; enjoy! 

Hazy sunlight creeps inside your shared bedroom, announcing the morning not so subtly. Yeonjun is already wide awake, admiring your sleeping form and feeling butterflies in his stomach. He lets his slender finger trail down your jaw, neck, stopping right before your poorly hid cleavage. The enticing sight makes him bite down his lower lip instinctively.

He can see everything through the sheer material of his white shirt on your body, and it’s most definitely making his blood rush to the south. With a shuddering breath, Yeonjun continues his journey, earning a soft whimper from your still asleep self. He stops once he reaches the waistband of your panties, his eyes shooting up to your face. Somehow, you’ve managed to sleep like a baby through the whole ordeal, unaware of the sinful thoughts swirling in Yeonjun’s head. 

You look so peaceful, angelic even, your breaths light and your lips parted ever so slightly. With a fond smile, he shakes his head a little, climbing up on you. Yeonjun takes a few moments to stroke away the tousled hairs from your face, his lips pressing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. His gentle hands unbutton the shirt slowly to leave you only in your baby blue cotton panties. 

Your boyfriend keenly watches how goosebumps spread over your skin, your nipples erecting against the cold morning air. The urge to lean down and suck on those sensitive nubs is strong, but he holds himself back.

Feeling bare and unprotected in your sleep, you whine in protest, unwilling to open your eyes. The familiar warmth of Yeonjun floods your senses as he kisses you softly, the touch fleeting yet comforting.

You can feel his fingers tugging down your underwear through the haze of your sleep. But you don’t stop him — subconsciously knowing exactly where this is headed to. It only encourages him to go further, his mouth leaving soft nips on your inner thighs. You purr, and he looks up from between your legs, noticing how your breathing picks up from his touch. Yeonjun parts your legs, dragging his mouth along your inner thigh, so close yet not there. He keeps teasing you to his liking, effectively awakening your body from its slumber. 

The pink of his tongue peeks out of his mouth, his hot breath fanning over your core. Your desperate hands grip on the bed sheet, waiting for his touch. After what feels like an eternity, you feel his tongue sliding along your moist folds.

“Junnie!”

You gasp, your lips parting and your eyes flying open. Yeonjun takes the hint, taking your left leg and placing it over his shoulder for better access. He gets to work immediately, covering your pussy with kitten licks, his nose nudging at your clit. With great effort, you manage to support your body on your elbows, his eyes locking with yours. 

Yeonjun’s eyes twinkle with mischief, and before you can comprehend anything, his lips are wrapping around your clit, the sensation making you delirious.

“Don’t… ugh, don’t stop please–” you fall back on the mattress and cry out, his teeth lightly grazing over the sensitive nub.

“Shh, I’m not stopping, baby.”

He flattens his tongue against your slit, going up and down but not giving you what you need. It amuses him — the way you make cute sounds of frustration, writhing uncontrollably under him. You’re entirely under his mercy.

Growing impatient as the urgency rises, Yeonjun finally pushes his tongue inside the molten warmth of your cunt, his low groan sending vibrations throughout you. Your back arches off the mattress from the sensation. The feeling of him inside you intoxicates you, your body hypersensitive to each stroke of his tongue. You both moan simultaneously when he starts fucking you with his tongue, your head hitting the pillow.

Junnie grunts, pushing harder and deeper, your essence filling his mouth. Your toes curl as you crest higher, and he softly brushes his thumb on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You buck up your hips, trying to move with his ministrations as he delves his tongue in and out, his thumb rolling your clit in tight circles. Out of breath, you wound your fingers in his hair, trying to ground yourself.

He softly plucks his tongue out, groaning as he enjoys the way you pull on his hair strands. He dives back down to slurp at your juices eagerly, ravishing you like he’s been starved. Yeonjun wraps his lips around the swollen nub, sucking and grazing his teeth on it.

“Please…” You whimper, your legs shaking as you plead.

“Please what, baby?” He hums, suckling on your clit. “You know you can say it better for me, don’t you?”

“Please! God, I– I’m gonna come!”

You feel his lips curling against you before he pulls away, moving down to your sopping entrance. The warm, flexible muscle slides into you again, his index finger rolling your clitoris. Without prior warnings, your orgasm blazes through you like a tidal wave, body trembling as you gush around him. Junnie moans appreciatively, devouring every single drop that you offered to him. With slow, long licks, he lets you ride out your high, sensitizing you further.

“My princess loves it, yeah? The way I eat out your pretty pussy until you come?”

You open your eyes to find him hovering over your spent body, a devilish smirk on his lips. His mouth is covered with your slick, glistening under the golden rays of the early sun. The urge to have him buried deep inside you invades your mind at the sight, and you mewl, “Junnie.”

Yeonjun quirks one of his eyebrows, “Yeah, baby?” 

“I wan’– need your cock in me.”

“Fuck, you say it so prettily. How can I say no to that?” His hungry mouth finds yours, and you immediately taste yourself on his tongue, a moan escaping you. He pulls down his sweatpants with his boxers, resting his erection between your slippery folds. You feel yourself clenching around nothing, weak at the feeling of his rock-hard cock rubbing against your pussy. He knows you like it; he knows that it drives you crazy.

“Please, baby, I– can’t,” you whine with a pout.

“Please what, my angel?” Yeonjun smiles. Even though he’s running very low on patience, he teases you. His pre-cum is dribbling down onto your slit, making a mess, but he still wants to hear that final confirmation. 

“In me… I’m ready…” you whisper, eyes glazed up.  

“Fuck.” He positions himself along your needy, waiting hole. His bulbous, thick head protrudes in a bit, causing you to gasp. You intertwine your fingers together right before he pushes inside, your head lolling back in pleasure. Your moans get muffled as he kisses you hungrily, your inner walls stretching to give him space.

“Yeah baby, just like that, take it, it’s all yours.”

You manage a broken whisper in response, adjusting to his size. Yeonjun holds you close, starting with slow, languid thrusts, pulling and pushing, giving you time to get used to the stretch. Soon, you start to rock your hips, building up a rhythm with him. He growls, surging his hips forward again and again, hitting all those spots inside you that make you feel mushy. His mouth finds its refuge on your shoulder, cock plummeting into your warm, tight and slippery depths. 

Yeonjun rests his forehead against yours, rasping, “Can you hear that? Can you hear how fucking wet you are for me? Hm?” As if to prove his point, the squelching sound increases, the raw sound of skin slapping against skin magnifying the wet noise. You struggle to form a coherent sentence. But knowing very well that he’ll demand for an answer, you just nod your head vigorously. 

“Baby can’t even talk, huh? Am I fucking my baby dumb? That she can’t even use her words?” A few rough thrusts hit your cervix, tears gathering in your eyes. He’s fucking you good. Yeonjun is in a frenzy, his pace quickening with each of his strokes, deep moans of satisfaction rumbling in his throat.

“Pussy so good, fuck! You’re so good to me, baby, squeezing me so well. So wet and hot for me. Taking this dick like a good girl.” Your boyfriend murmurs all these praises like a mantra, his weight pushing you down and bending you further. Tears gather in your eyes from the intense stimulation. It feels so unbelievably good. Your whole body is buzzing with pleasure.

A string of incoherent words leaves your throat, your nails raking on his back, sure to leave visible marks the next day. His cock twitches inside you, wrapped up snug in your gummy walls, both of you moaning simultaneously. You bury your face in his shoulder as the knot in your lower tummy tightens further. 

“I know you’re close, baby. Come for me.” Yeonjun groans, moving harder against you, making sure to grind against your clit with his pelvis as he moves. Clearly over stimulated, you quiver beneath him, white spots appearing in your vision.

“Junnie!” You cry out, your walls clenching around his cock as you reach your high. He slows down with a low growl, your cunt pulsating around him sporadically. His pace turns sloppy, and he moans your name, getting closer to his own release.

“Fuck, fuck! I’m gonna come, baby. I’m— fuck!” Yeonjun collapses on you, his ecstasy crashing over him as he drains his balls inside you. You shudder, pussy clenching as he fills you up with his seed to the brim. His body gives up, crashing down on you — which you accept with open arms.

You stroke his hair, trying to catch your breath while he soothes the bites left by him in the fit of passion. He rolls over after a while, pulling you close and kissing your forehead.

“Wow… So that was something.” Yeonjun sighs, drawing random patterns on your back with his fingers.

You nuzzle his chest, cuddling up to him, “Why?”

“This is the best way to start my day. Why didn’t I think of this before?” He chuckles, squeezing you in his arms.

“Maybe because your galaxy brain isn’t really a galaxy brain?”

Junnie shoots you a glare, smacking your ass. “Don’t push my buttons, I’m in a good mood, ‘kay?” He continues after a brief pause and sigh, “Wanna take a shower together? To save water, obviously.”

You giggle, “Showers are supposed to clean you up, not to make you dirtier.”

Yeonjun pouts, burying his face in your chest and groaning, “It’s not like I’m coming all over you and making a mess, I just come in you.”

You tap your chin, pretending to ponder over his invitation. On the other hand, impatient and careless, he stands up all of a sudden, picking you up in his arms and carrying you towards the bathroom.

“Why don’t you– ah-mmh!”

The rest of your sentence turns into a whimper as he pushes three of his fingers into your mouth. You moan, looking at him through half-closed eyelids.

“Were you saying something?” Yeonjun sets you down on the bathroom counter, smirking. You shake your head no, sucking on his fingers obediently. “Such a good girl, that’s what I thought. You wanna suck my cock instead of my fingers, baby?”

You nod eagerly, and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, kissing you passionately. Not to be biased, but this has been the best morning ever. 

Yeonjun prays that all the mornings would be like this from now on. 

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 end notes ꒱

thank you so much for reading <33!! i’m like, kinda proud of this 😗? hope this was a good read! apologies for any mistakes left in there!

consider leaving a reblog or a comment to let me know what you think of this!! feedback through asks will be appreciated too! support your local writers, it keeps us motivated to create and share 🌸!

[galaxystt]

finished double life... so naturally i've started working on an animatic ;v; the lads are tragic and its their fault (and i love it)

[alish-artie]

I love the elevator cutscenes so much-

[doodleodds]

Happy Valentines, Akira. Happy Valentines, Asshole.

If you can’t read what Akechi’s secondary inner-dialogue says cause I obscured it too much behind his regular dialogue, here’s a transcription in panel order: Hello, you fucking- Ah- Hello, Akira! Fuck off, why should I tell you- Just a soda- there’s a new flavor.

I don’t want your shitty gift. Oh- haha! You’re so sweet.

I hope I choke. They’re lovely, thank you.

Like hell. Likewise. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. Still though, it’s a funny coincidence.

[storm-priestess]

▪°•○♡ DETAILS ON YOUR NEXT ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP ♡○•°▪

(all pictures taken from weheartit)

○ Pile 1 ○

this person challenges you career-wise, as well as regarding your self worth

they will make you question why you let others treat you like shit, most likely at work, school, or in friendships

I'm getting that they give you pep talks, hype you up and remind you that you deserve to be respected and loved

very power couple vibes, albeit not super romantic, there's a lot of affection here

they'll support you through all the late nights stuck at the library or working overtime, cheering you on

this is extremely sweet :')

they like sending you messages when you're apart, letting you know that they're thinking of you <3

I can't get over how powerful this is, they truly help you see your inner light. whether this relationship lasts or not, you'll carry their influence with you forever and will never regret the time you spent with them, if only bc they helped you climb out of a dark space

they really, really care about your well-being, almost forcefully

VERY mulan and li shang vibe, although I get the sense you're a bit more nervous and self critical than mulan was in the movie

they're just so invested in you knowing your worth, it's beautiful

○ Pile 2 ○

whirlwind romance vibe, but I feel like your intentions are a bit mismatched. one of you is more interested in the romance and intrigue of it all, the other just a fun time

this could be on-and-off again, with one of you clinging onto the relationship a bit more emotionally than the other

a tendency to cling onto the other, trying to coerce them into putting more of themselves into the connection

regardless, this is a really fun time you guys have

towards the end things may get a little messy, but alongside the bomb sex the spontaneity permeates the rest of the relationship and you guys genuinely enjoy one another's company

I feel like it starts rather abruptly, and hinges on physical attraction to get the ball rolling. then you start texting, meeting up for casual dates/sex, etc, and then one of you catches a bit more intense feelings… (the other is still invested, just maybe not as… obsessed might be too strong of a word, but you get what I mean)

it does seem a bit unbalanced, but if you're honest about what you want out of the relationship you have a stronger chance of getting it. I do see evidence of effort coming from both sides to keep the relationship going, so hopefully you guys can find a peaceful balance that satisfies both of your needs

○ Pile 3 ○

this feels very different from the first two piles… I think this is more for just one person, or a small group of you. it feels like a personal reading

you're the enigmatic one in your friend group. you do what you want to do and are so charismatic that others follow you (not in a cultish way lol, they just love the fun that you incite. it's very sweet)

you've recently moved on from an ex or a crush that you pursued and their rejection bruised your ego a bit. you've just about recollected the rest of your diminished spark and are setting out anew, possibly determined to focus on yourself from now on

but you're met with a bunch of options… you've gained a lot of romantic attention and people are starting to come forward, or at least flirt a lil bit, shoot their shot, slide into dms, whatever

you're just focusing on your friends for now tho, no intentions of jumping right into a romantic relationship….

but it finds you. you don't even have to try

some of you… may realize things about your sexuality. you're attracted to a wider variety of people. that, and/or one of your close friends starts to look mighty interesting…

this is a deep connection. not just a fling or a gateway into discovering the depth of your sexuality, but a really beautiful pairing that means a lot to both of you

you might be at a party and drunkenly kiss your friend, only to laugh about it and carry on

but it becomes less funny later on

you won't be able to stop thinking about it

either that, or you're just hanging out with your friends and have a realization

regardless, this catches you completely off guard

this is really, really special

there's a lot more under the surface here, but it's not for me to convey. things are meant to unfold naturally from here on out. you also probably won't be able to get anymore information on this from other sources (pacs, youtube vids, etc). it feels a bit like the universe is wiping the dirt off their hands and being like 'there. I told you. figure the rest out yourself.'

take it one day at a time guys <3 everything will work out fine

[misciouscave]

Small doodles to fuel my denial

[floating-far-from-earth]

judging you...

(og cg under the cut)

[qeyond]

First kiss <3

[mushiewrites]

Summer Afternoons

the final day of lee!George week....I can't believe this is over already omg. I just wanna thank everyone who participated or encouraged those of us who did, it honestly means so much to me ): ur all adorable and this was so much fun to do ): Anyway, today was a free day, and I chose to do a concept from the lovely @wishitweresummer (found here!) - it was originally lee!dream but Im insane and throw george in any situation so, yeah. This has been in my head every single day since the day summer posted it so.....I hope you enjoy! (also, remember to use the # "mushies lee!George week" if you participate! thank u!)

I also wanna mention - even though this is the last day of lee!George week, feel free to come back and do these prompts whenever you'd like! (and still use the hashtag so I can see as well!)

day 7 - free day! / prompts found here!

(lee!George / ler!Dream / ler!Sapnap : 2.5K words)

“George? Dream?” 

There was a soft knocking sound coming from outside of the room, followed by the twist of a doorknob and the creek of the door slowly being pushed open. George stretched his arms out, moving to bring them up to rub at his eyes but finding he only had movement in his right arm. He opened his eyes sleepily to see Dream curled up beside him, his left arm under the blonde’s head acting as a pillow as he continued to nap peacefully. He turned his attention to the sound of the door shutting, seeing Sapnap walking towards the bed, moving quietly and being careful to not wake Dream. 

“Hm?” The older boy mumbled, stretching his free arm above his head with a soft groan as he arched his back towards the ceiling until his body was shaking slightly. He let himself drop back down against the bed, moving a little closer to Dream to cuddle into him tighter. George turned his attention back to the younger boy standing at the side of his bed, watching his knees hit the side of the mattress every few seconds as he swayed back and forth on his feet. 

“I didn’t know where you guys went. I checked your room, and when you weren’t there I just figured I’d look here. What are you doing?” Sapnap spoke in a whisper, not wanting to disrupt the comfortable softness surrounding them. George rolled his shoulders back a few times and leaned his head to the side, wincing as it popped loudly before doing the same to the opposite side. He yawned and grabbed at Sapnap’s left hand, pulling lightly and giving him a gentle smile.

“Napping. Cuddling. Come here, please?” 

Sapnap giggled at the request, rolling his eyes with a fake sigh before climbing up onto Dream’s bed with the older two. He settled himself into George’s right side, laying his head over the brunette’s arm to mirror Dream. The younger boy threw his arm over George’s torso, letting the tips of his fingers land over Dream’s forearm. He ran his fingers up and down the skin a few times, biting his lip with a smile when the blonde let out a small squeak and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. Sapnap withdrew his hand so he didn’t accidentally wake him with his movements, not wanting to interrupt any rest Dream was able to squeeze into his busy schedule. 

“How long have you guys been napping?” Sapnap asked, closing his eyes with a smile as George knocked the hat off of his head and began carding his hand through the curls beneath it. The younger boy nuzzled himself into George’s neck, smiling against it when he felt George start to squirm slightly, feeling the elder’s cheek press against his forehead as his smile grew wider with an attempt to hold in the giggles that threatened to spill out at any second. 

“Whahat time is it?” George replied with a giggle as he squirmed slightly further towards Dream, trying to subtly escape Sapnap’s beard from scraping against the curve where his shoulder and neck connected. 

“Uh, it’s….not even one yet.” The younger boy fished his phone from out of his pocket, checking the time and then locking it before setting it on the bedside table to his right. George hummed in acknowledgement, furrowing his brows together as he thought about when they had first gone to Dream’s room to lay down.

“I’m not sure, I don’t even think it’s been an hour.” It was Sapnap’s turn to hum in response to George’s answer, nodding and pulling back slightly to lean part of his head on the soft pillows beneath them. 

“Well, we have all the time in the world to nap now.” Sapnap felt the rougher part of a tiny feather sticking out from one of the pillows graze his ear, shaking his head and moving it back slightly to get away from the light tickly feeling. 

“A Sap-nap. Get it?” George couldn’t stop himself from bursting into chirpy giggles, trying to stay as quiet as possible, turning to bury his face into Sapnap’s shoulder to help him muffle the noises he was trying to keep down. His attempt was ruined when Sapnap aimed a knuckle at his most sensitive rib, rubbing in a few times and giggling to himself when George squealed into his shoulder. 

“Yeheah, I get it, you little idiot,” Sapnap whispered closer to George’s ear, grunting when he felt the feather tickle over his ear again. He sat up onto his elbow, running his hand over the pillowcase to try and find the fuzzy culprit. “Hold on. There’s a stupid little fucking feather or something poking out, it keeps tickling me.” He continued to rub against the pillow with the palm of his hand, gasping when after a few seconds he was able to locate the annoying object. He held it up for George to see, grimacing at the little white feather in between his fingers. 

“That’s the thing that was bothering you? It’s like, not even two inches!” The elder rolled his eyes at Sapnap’s dramatics, chuckling at the pathetic looking thing in his hand. He watched as the younger boy twisted his lips up into a smirk, already sensing where this was going.

“You’d know two inches pretty well, wouldn’t you, Georgie.”

“Hey! What the fuck is that supposed to-”

“Nnnnh….shut up.”

The boy’s immediately pressed their lips into thin lines, turning their attention to the very sleepy looking blonde boy who was angrily looking back at them. He rolled his eyes with a huff, moving to stretch in a similar manner that George had just minutes before. 

“Oh Dream, I’m so sorry, George woke you up!” Sapnap spoke softly even as he threw the older boy under the bus, making George gasp in offense and whip his head towards the younger boy with his jaw dropped.

“I did not! You’re just as guilty! If it wasn’t for you and your stupid feather, this wouldn’t have- AHAHAHA HEY! STOHOHOP!” 

It seemed Dream wasn’t interested in anything George had to say, having taken Sapnap’s side and using the hand he wasn’t lying on to squeeze along the left side of George’s rib cage. The brunette squealed and launched himself into louder cackles as Sapnap joined in, rubbing his knuckle into his worst rib once again and making Dream follow suit on the opposite side. 

“WHY! S-STOHOHOP! PLEHEHEASE, G-GEHEHET OFF!” George twisted his body the best he could, pulling at his arms but whining when both boys sat up slightly, leaning an elbow over each of George’s forearms to make sure he stayed down against the blankets. “THIHIS IS- NAHAHA IT’S SOHOHO MEAN!”

“You woke me up, George. If you ask me, I’d say that’s mean!” Dream countered his complaint, giggling when George’s laughter jumped an octave as Sapnap swiped the white feather over the smaller boy’s tricep. Dream stopped his tickling, his attention now on the tiny object in Sapnap’s hand. “Where on earth did you find that?” 

“From your stupid feather pillows! It kept poking me in my ear so I just….pulled it out.” Sapnap explained sheepishly, giggling when Dream broke out into bright giggles himself. 

“Let me see.” Dream motioned for Sapnap to pass him the feather, his smile growing as George began to screech when Dream dangled it over his open underarm. 

“What’s wrong, it’s like, ‘not even two inches!’” Sapnap mocked the elders previous comment, feigning a horrible British accent to add injury to insult. George squirmed as Dream grabbed his shirt sleeve between his pointer and middle fingers, stretching it down and inching the feather closer to the opening. 

“Nonono! No, plehehease, I didn’t dohoho anything!” 

“You woke him up, darlin’!” Sapnap noted happily, a hint of his southern drawl shining through and giggling when Dream reached over and poked at his cheek in response to the accent. 

“Darlin’.” Dream repeated, mostly to himself, making the other two laugh. The blonde watched as George threw his head back into the pillows with his eyes shut, recognizing this as his chance to pounce. He quickly shot his hand forward, wiggling the soft point of the feather directly into the center of George’s armpit, eyes widening with amusement when George jerked his body towards Sapnap with a cackle. 

“NAHAHAHA no! Nohohoho NOHO! D-Dreheheheam!” George kicked his feet against the bed as he continued his cackles, feeling Dream dragging the feather in circles under his left arm, making a huge spiral and drawing it tighter as he would reach closer to the center again. 

“Wait, there’s no way it’s that bad. Let me try!” George opened his eyes just in time to see the two pass the feather between them, this time jolting towards Dream when Sapnap ran the feather quickly up the side of his neck to make him squeal. 

“Dohohon’t! Stohohop!” The elder cried out as Sapnap traced the feather directly under George’s ear on the side of his neck, grinning as Dream used the hand he wasn’t leaning on to softly grip George’s jaw to hold him in place. 

“Don’t stop? Well, if you insist, baby!” 

Dream let out a tiny wheeze when George shrieked at his statement, trying and failing to shake his head out of his grasp. Sapnap knew how sensitive the spot under George’s ear was and took pity on him, quickly following Dream’s lead and shoving the feather up George’s sleeve and into the hollow of his right armpit. He was much less precise with his movements, wiggling it around over any spot he could to find the best reaction. Sapnap stopped and observed his movements when George screeched, noticing where the feather was tickling. Dream let go of his jaw, allowing the older boy to thrash his head from side to side as he lost himself in his own laughter.

“Oh, this is a good spot, huh, Georgie?” Dream leaned over as Sapnap spoke to watch the feather saw back and forth over the inner side of his underarm, where the muscle was pulled taunt and put on display with the way Sapnap was holding his arm down. 

“Nohoho no! Plehehease not- nohOHHOT THEHERE!” The oldest boy was in near-hysterics at this point, kicking harder against the blankets and making them curl into a messy pile beneath him. 

“Not there? Okay, what about….here?” 

George began howling suddenly when Sapnap turned the feather in his hand and started poking into the skin at the center of his armpit softly with the rougher part of it. Dream placed his hand on George’s chest and gently pressed down, keeping him stuck to the bed rather than keep trying to fling himself forward and side to side to get away from the feather. 

“Wait, I want another try!” Dream whined after a few minutes of watching George laugh himself silly. Sapnap sighed in fake annoyance, handing Dream the feather once more and smirking as he replaced Dream’s hand on George’s chest with his own. 

“Oh my gosh, you’re such a little squirmy thing today, aren’t you?” Sapnap commented with a smirk, pleased with the way George’s blush seemed to deepen at the remark. He turned to bury his head into Sapnap’s shoulder again, groaning and breaking into cackles as Dream slid the feather into his sleeve and traced the rougher stem of the feather in little circles under his arm. 

“Just so giggly, Georgie.” Dream commented quietly, continuing his torment.

“N-Nohoho more, plehehease! Plehehease, softer!” George pouted through his laughter, revealing himself from his hiding place in Sapnap’s shoulder and flashing Dream his teary eyes to show him just how tickled out he was. The blonde immediately complied, caving instantly and switching the feather to the soft part to continue tracing tiny circles along the sides of his armpit. 

“Dream, I think our kitten is a little tired out, don’t you think?” George was surprised to hear the statement from Sapnap but was thankful he did, taking in a much needed breath of air when Dream reluctantly pulled the feather back out of his sleeve and turned to his left to place it on the bed sheets beside him. 

“What happened to you, tough guy? Giving up so soon on torturing our little Gogs, hm?” Dream seemed equally as surprised as George, giggling through his accusation as Sapnap shook his head with a slight blush rising to his cheeks. George continued to laugh his little heart out, turning back towards Sapnap and burying his face into the curly haired boy’s neck to hide and muffle his lingering giggles.

“Come on, Dream, look at him! He’s being so soft and shy, how can you torture him when he’s like this?” Sapnap questioned back, moving his palm from the center of George’s chest and instead wrapping it around the smaller boy’s torso and pulling him closer. 

“Okay, I guess you do have a point there.” Dream lifted up to lean on the palm of his hand, allowing George to move his arm from under him and loop it completely around Sapnap instead. 

The two younger boys laughed at the way George immediately clung to Sapnap, unable to wrap their heads around the fact that George was allowing himself to be so soft with them. Dream wasn’t about to ruin it by commenting on it though and instead slotted himself behind George, wrapping his left arm around the tiny waist in front of him and allowing Sap to adjust his arm to hang over Dream’s shoulder, successfully encasing George in the tightest, most comfiest cuddle hug they could make.

Within seconds the two heard George’s breathing even out, letting them know he had finally fallen asleep. The two whispered back and forth for a minute before deciding to nap as well, both closing their eyes and cuddling in close together. There was a comfortable silence blanketing the room, only to be broken seconds later by Dream. 

“Hey Sap?” He whispered, lifting his head up slightly and opening one eye. He watched the youngest boy scrunch his nose at the disturbance, a slight smile forming anyway before he answered. 

“Yeah?” 

“Don’t think I won’t remember that the feather tickled your ears.” He watched as Sapnap dipped his head down to bury his face in George’s hair, catching a glimpse of the reddening cheeks before he was completely hidden from Dream’s view.

“Try me and I’ll tape it inside your belly button.” 

Dream whined quietly at that, feeling his own face heat up as his attempt to tease Sapnap majorly backfired on him. 

“Whatever!” Dream spat back, closing his eyes and settling back down against the smaller boy in his arms. He pressed his forehead to the nape of George’s neck, smiling through his blush as he fell asleep to the sounds of Sapnap’s raspy giggles, and the thoughts of exactly what he was just threatened with playing out in his mind.

[antelopunny]

T…THANKS ???

more thoughts under the cut (cw: uncensored homophobic slurs)

OK SO MY FIRST REACTION WAS alright this commentor’s probably fresh to fandom / autistic (as an autistic person myself, who has said foot-in-mouth shit like this before and still do ALL THE TIME) so I was like alright… they might just need someone to explain why it’s pretty fucking rude to insinuate that their wlw fic is inferior in any way to a het one, even if you’re praising their writing

BUT

I also know that my fic has been discussed on the 4chan Rogue Trader threads on /v/ and they all take the same stance that my writing quality is really good, but they really wish it (quote) “wasn’t dyke shit” (and then had an argument about how disliking yuri was actually a sign you’re gay)

SO LIKE…

[happi-tree]

hunter’s mark, reversed

You never forget your first kill, they always say. 

What the monster manuals and hunting guides and mentors forget to say is that sometimes, your first kill never forgets you, either. 

Grant trudges to the master bathroom, attempting to muss his hair out of its unruly bedhead. He flicks on the lights, runs the water, lets the cool chill of it splash against his face and rouse him into a loose definition of wakefulness. Washes his face, turns off the water, looks in the mirror as he pats his face dry. 

His own reflection stares at him, tired. 

His eyes veer to his right, where a pair of vacant, milky white eyes look back.

Or: Grant Wilson, and the things that haunt him.

ao3

This is my fic for @dndadsfanweeks' Halloween Week day 6: ghosts. Like previous days, this is part of the supernatural au @llumimoon, @kaseyskat, and I planned out together. Content warnings for blood, gore, death, and general angstiness.

Hunter’s Mark (reversed): You choose kill a creature you can see within range and it mystically marks it you as your its quarry. Until the spell ends, you it deals an extra 1d6 psychic damage to the target whenever you hit it with a weapon attack, and you have disadvantage on any Wisdom (Perception) or Wisdom (Survival) check you make to find it.

-Ranger Spell List, D&D 5th ed.

You never forget your first kill, they always say. 

What the monster manuals and hunting guides and mentors forget to say is that sometimes, your first kill never forgets you, either. 

Grant trudges to the master bathroom, attempting to muss his hair out of its unruly bedhead. He flicks on the lights, runs the water, lets the cool chill of it splash against his face and rouse him into a loose definition of wakefulness. Washes his face, turns off the water, looks in the mirror as he pats his face dry. 

His own reflection stares at him, tired. 

His eyes veer to his right, where a pair of vacant, milky white eyes look back, expressionless, framed by dark locs and pallored skin. 

“Hi, Yeet,” Grant says softly. 

You never forget your first kill. 

You never forget your first crush, either. 

And for Grant Wilson, he’s unlucky enough that those two people ended up one and the same. 

There is no response from the boy in the mirror, just a blank, glassy stare, like one of the taxidermied animal heads that had decorated the walls of his grandma’s house. 

(As a little kid, he’d always thought their severed heads and marble eyes were a bit uncomfortable to look at, a bit creepy. He would make a game in his head of seeing how long he could be in the family room at night before he chickened out and turned the lights on. It was good, harmless fun, to look at the things Grandpa Frank had shot and convince himself that they were watching him from somewhere beyond the veil.)

(That was before he met Yeet, of course. Before his father had pulled him aside and told Grant what Grandpa Frank had told him.)

“Honey,” Marco calls from beyond the bathroom, and his husband’s soothing voice manages to pull him from his thoughts, just a little. His white-knuckle grip on the edge of the sink loosens (when had he grabbed it?). 

“Hey, I’m headed out to work,” Marco says, poking his head in through the doorway. 

The sight of Grant’s favorite person relaxes him further.

(He tries not to think about the way he had looked with a bullet wound between his eyes in his dream last night, his eyes fog-covered and glass-marbled, his jaw slack and dripping with gore.)

Grant feels Marco’s stubble brush along his cheekbone as his husband gives him a quick peck. 

“Okay,” Grant hears himself say, although it feels like his head is underwater (it feels like his head is stuck twenty-five years in the past.) “Love you.”

Marco’s eyebrows knit together above his half-moon glasses. Grant hates and loves in equal measure the way that his husband can read him so well, even when he’s busy and frazzled from his morning routine. Some sort of witchy ability of his, he’s sure. 

The concern in those onyx-flint eyes make Grant want to run and hide, sometimes, to cower and shy away like a prey animal under the weight of his affection. 

Grant stays still, though. He’s gotten better at that (at least, that’s what Marco tells him).

“You sound awful.”

“Good morning to you, too, sweetheart,” Grant says, trying to inject some lightheartedness into his voice.

“The adjustments I made to the sleeping draught didn’t work much, huh,” Marco frets.

Grant sighs. “Yeah.” Among other things.

His gaze slides to the mirror again: his warm, wonderful, magical husband on his left, a ghostly shade of a boy on his right. Grant in the middle, somewhere between living and dead, between predator and prey.

Marco follows his gaze, sees the way it lands on negative space.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I could always try an exorcism,” he muses, squinting at the silver-backed pane like he’s trying to force himself to see what Grant does.

“Too risky,” Grant says, like he has every other time Marco has offered. “He lashed out a lot, when I was younger. I wouldn’t want him to hurt you.”

It’s true. In the first few months - years - afterward, Yeet was a complete poltergeist. Gusts of wind would rip through every corridor of his childhood home, piercing shrieks and wordless screams echoing right next to his ears, those milky-white eyes narrowed in fury as wave upon wave of pity-disgust-betrayal-anger-fear reached through to his chest with icy cold fingers, emotions that were his burden but not his own siphoning between his ribs and pulling .

Phantom blood had drenched his teenage hands, red and sticky and awful but also strangely beautiful, congealing into chunks around shaking joints, caking into his fingernails, and Grant would pick at the skin there until it bled anew, as if disposing of the flaking crimson would absolve him of his sins.

Grant has long since rid himself of Catholic guilt. His own is more than any god could give him, now, and he watches as the red fills his peripheral vision, leaving gory smears on the countertop, worming its way into every line of his palm. Its counterpart blooms from Yeet’s chest, flowering and spreading outward, mesmerizing in a way that Grant knows he shouldn’t find pretty.

Marco exhales, places a hand atop his, unlatches it from the edge of the sink (fuck, he had been gripping it too hard again, hadn’t he), interlocks their fingers together. The red doesn’t spread to him.

(Grant hopes it never will. Grant hopes that, at the end of things, he will be buried, soaked in blood and gore, a sponge for all the violence so that his family, his friends, his pack, never have to live in fear again.)

“Okay,” Marco says, calmly, firmly.

Too many people have treated Grant like he is fragile, one moment away from breaking. Blessedly, Marco has never been one of them.

“I’m fine,” Grant says. “I’m fine, Marco.”

“It’s okay not to be,” Marco says, infuriatingly patient for someone who was about to rush out the door.

“You’re going to be late,” he evades.

“Time is relative, dear,” Marco responds, the air tingeing with a very specific mirage of color that Grant has long since learned to identify as his husband’s magic. There’s a slight upturn to his mouth, and Grant can’t help but lean into him and fit his lips to the seam of his smile.

Marco’s hands come to grasp at his waist, grounding, steadying, and the air smells less like a bloodstained forest night and more like clementines and jasmine. 

When Grant pulls away, there is no blood where his fingers cup his husband’s jaw, nor where his hand fists in his clean shirt.

“There you are,” Marco murmurs, smiling gently, and fuck, Grant does not deserve him in the slightest.

(He doesn’t need the lone boy in the mirror, rigor-mortis-frozen at age thirteen, to tell him that. Although the phantasmal reminder certainly doesn’t hurt.)

“You sure you’re gonna be okay to drive Lincoln to school?” Marco asks.

At the edge of his hearing, Grant can hear the uncoordinated puttering of their son in the kitchen, attempting to prepare his breakfast with only his feet.

He smiles, and it feels a little less fake on his face. “Yeah, I can handle it. It’s his first day, I can’t not drive our little boy!”

“Alright,” Marco says, pecking him again on the cheek and turning to leave before pausing at the threshold.

“Oh,” he says. “Before I forget and you freak out, Lincoln and I did some arts and crafts yesterday.”

“Friendship bracelets?” Grant asks.

“Yep.”

There’s a cold breeze only he can feel. “And they work?”

Marco cocks his head to one side. “No reason why they shouldn’t. Iron to ward off fae, silver for werewolves, even soaked the strings in holy water to throw something anti-demonic in there,” he lists. “And of course, imbued with good intent.”

 “Of course,” Grant echoes. 

“I can tell you’re thinking,” his husband says.

Grant hums. “Public school’s gonna be good for Lincoln, it’s just - are we going too far with the precautions?” He frowns. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“I mean, he’s going to find out eventually,” Marco says. “Whether or not he hears it from us.”

“I don’t want that to happen.”

“It’s going to, one way or another,” his husband asserts, frown clashing against his smile lines.

“I know, I know,” Grant sighs. “It’s just-”

There’s so much blood on Grant’s hands, passed down from his father and his father’s father, monster hunter to monster hunter to monster hunter. (Grant’s idea of a monster has shifted, as his father’s had, but the rush of the hunt remains regardless). The red will spread, as the red always does.

He can only hope it doesn’t stain his son’s hands. He can only hope it doesn’t ooze from his son’s ruptured heart. 

Marco’s features soften. “I know,” he says. (He shouldn’t have to know.) “He’s growing up too fast.”

“Yeah,” Grant agrees.

“If you think the bracelets are too much, though, I don’t think he’s packed yet.”

Grant’s vision is drawn once more to the figure in the mirror. Yeet regards him silently, mouth agape in a silent scream of betrayal. His ghostly form still bears the marks of a witch hunter, wooden stakes and crucifixes and torches that Grant didn’t let him set ablaze. 

He looks, and Yeet morphs before his eyes, locs shortening to dark, fluffy curls, close-cropped at the sides, freckles appearing on boyish, rounded cheeks and lanky limbs. The ghost looks a lot like Lincoln.

Yeet smiles wickedly, and blood pools from the corner of his mouth, runs down his spectral chin.

“No, no, the bracelets are a good idea,” Grant says, eyes not leaving the mirror. “Thank you for helping make them.”

“Not a problem, honey,” Marco says, squeezing his shoulder and dragging him back to the living “All good to go?”

“I need to get dressed, first,” Grant responds, gesturing at his loose t-shirt and boxers.

“I’ll leave you to it, then, I really do have to go,” He says. “I’m gonna wish Lincoln good luck, and then I’m off!”

“Okay,” Grant says, already moving to grab his sweater and slacks for his shift at the library later today. “Love you.”

“Love you, too!” Marco replies, immediate and ever-present, an answer to a question Grant doesn’t deserve to ask. “And Grant?”

“Hm?”

“Lincoln will be fine,” Marco reassures. “Trust me. I have a good feeling about this.”

“I hope so.”

The boy in the full-length mirror stares at him, hovering just at his right, and Grant avoids looking at him.

God, I really hope so. 

[99probalos]

beach episode!

[daylightisviolent]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins Characters: Paul Matthews, Emma Perkins, Daniel | Stopwatch (Hatchetfield) (mentioned), Richie Lipschitz (Mentioned) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Wings, Wingfic, Paul Matthews and Emma Perkins are dating, Paul Matthews is Richie and Daniel's uncle, Richie Lipschitz and Daniel | Stopwatch are brothers, Paul Matthews as Richie and Daniel's legal guardian, Everyone in the Matthews-Lipschitz family has wings, Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emma Perkins is afraid of heights, Paulkins goes on their first weekend away, Flying together for the first time, Does it go well tho..., Not Beta Read, Not beta read we die like no one in my perfect little universe deal with it <3 Series: Part 3 of Wings AU Summary:

The thing is, Emma is afraid of heights.

Or, as it was accurately titled in my google docs: wake up bitches were going back to the wingfic universe

[chiropteracupola]

the thing about animorphs is that the last three? books have been the regular gang 1) opening up to 2) slowly losing their barely-established trust of 3) and then deciding that they have to maybe entirely take out a whole other human child, but it's written like this and I have to oscillate back and forth between 'oh they're actually killing wow this is something' and 'a cross between a cow and a bus sure is a way in which you could describe an orca'

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

post-argue suguru…………. who feels very guilty for the words uttered in a moment of stress/anger………………… thinking about ways to make it better and eventually saying sorry A BIG BIGGER YESSSSS TTTT

i love this concept (like fights, arguments— ‘the human side of a relationship’ with suguru, i mean) so much, especially cause it fits incredibly well with how suguru deals (interestingly) with emotions in general :33 it’s a topic that has always been dear to me and has a lot of potential imo…

-🐟🐟🐟

YOU GET ITTTTTTTT this is . the Exact premise of the fic i’m posting next pshdkdjdj I HOPE IT GAINS YOUR FAVOUR…. my dearest 🐟 anon………

but yes !! i agree sm :(((( suguru is so….. composed and controlled and i think he hates saying things he doesn’t mean more than anything. like maybe he’s just angry and exhausted and he raises his voice at you….. and it just breaks him. not only bc he lost control but bc he hurt you in the process. and i think that suguru is just soooo prone to wallowing in his own guilt, yk?? he just lets it simmer until he’s full-on spiralling. and he’s so desperate to make it up to you. :(((((((( sniffle….. he is so Good.

[nulfaga]

did a little writer's circle w/ some friends but like... i found it kind of draining and counterproductive if anything. maybe bc i have an extremely clear vision of what i want 2 make (and had actual writing done) and they were still just spitballing ideas but i noticed myself feeling very stung and misunderstood lol. maybe i just don't take criticism well* but like. if i've written something it was exactly what i meant to write. shrug

*hold on no i have to qualify this. i welcome and thrive on incisive criticism from someone who gets what i'm trying to do. in other cases, not so much