#it's because of the matching matching eyes and hair color

[gojosprecious]

stargazing with nerd!gojo . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

you could listen to satoru talk about the stars for hours. and you have.

but this time it was different; this time, the two of you were laying under the stars on a picnic blanket, right outside the tent you’d had set up on the beach.

the bright stars shining in the sky were reflected in gojo’s glasses, your head pressed against his chest as you listened to the steady thump-thump-thump! of his heart.

you were wearing one of his hoodies, your legs tangled with satoru’s, matching wool socks you’d knitted on both of your feet, his arm tightly wrapped around you.

“that’s aquila, babe. it’s latin for eagle. the brightest star in the constellation is called altair, and it’s the twelfth-brightest star on the night sky. altair is around 17 light years away.”

“wow. is… that far, ‘toru?” “actually, in astronomical terms that’s pretty close. some stars that are visible to the naked eye can be even thousands of light years away.” “hm. well, how close is the star that’s, y’know, closest to us? aside from the sun.”

“proxima centauri. it’s about 4.25 light years away, but because it’s a dim red dwarf star, it’s too faint to be seen. you’d need a telescope for that.” satoru let out a soft hum, his fingers moving to card through your hair as you nuzzled closer into his chest. “hmm. could we sometimes look at the stars through a telescope?” “duh! that’s exactly why i have one.” satoru exclaimed. “aw, i wish i would’ve brought it with me.” he pouted.

“i’m glad you didn’t.” you pull back from his embrace slightly, a small smile on your face as you looked into his bright blue eyes, “because that means we can do this again another time.”

satoru’s cheeks turned a faint pink color as you pressed a kiss on his forehead before nuzzling back into his chest, listening to his heartbeat and the dulcet tones of his voice.

and that night, with your two sleeping bags zipped together, your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you, satoru already snoring softly as you were starting to drift off to sleep, you couldn’t help but think how much you wanted to listen to him talk about anything and everything for the rest of your life.

[chefs-other-corner]

Whore Means...Not A Good Person

☆Paring: Rumi x MIra x Zoey

 ☆Tags: fluff, yeah just pure fluff really, kids? idk man

 ☆Sum Sum: Rumi has a event with kids, and kids be saying anything

 ☆Word count: 738 ☆Note:  I forgot about this fic in my doc lol ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

It was a sunny afternoon, and Rumi was not fighting demons.

Instead, she was sitting criss-cross applesauce on a brightly-colored carpet surrounded by twelve toddlers, each wobbling in various stages of juice box-fueled chaos. She was here for the preschool’s charity party—smiles, photos, and free cupcakes, all in the name of good PR. She didn’t mind though. The demon-hunting could wait a day.

“Okay, kids,” the teacher said, clapping her hands before ducking out to refill the snack table, “Be nice to Miss Rumi, okay?”

The toddlers immediately swarmed her like the world's cutest horde.

“Hi, Miss Woomy!” one boy chirped, getting her name completely wrong and shoving a glittery dinosaur sticker onto her knee. “This is Clawboy and he eats people, but only bad ones.”

“Cool,” Rumi nodded solemnly. “That’s good. We only eat bad people.”

Another girl flopped down beside her with a juice mustache and said, “I like your hair. It looks like cotton candy but my mom says I can’t eat hair anymore.”

Rumi blinked. “I think that’s a good rule.”

And then came her—a little girl with tangled pigtails and a serious expression that didn’t match the glitter star stuck to her cheek.

“I wanna say…” she began, fidgeting with her sparkly pink skirt, “cause you look like my dog.”

Rumi tilted her head, smiling. “Your dog?”

“Yeah!” The girl nodded so hard her whole body wobbled. “And my dog’s name is Pretty because of the flower, and it was yellow. I like yellow. Do you like yellow? My mom never liked yellow. She also didn’t like Daddy. She said he’s a good-for-nothing whore.”

Rumi froze.

The room fell into slow-motion silence. The other toddlers were too busy trying to turn paper towels into capes, but Rumi was just trying so, so hard not to laugh.

Her lips twitched. Her hand shot to her mouth. She cleared her throat and said, “Um. Whore… means not a good person.”

The little girl gasped. “Like when I bite my cousin?”

“Worse,” Rumi said carefully. “But only if your cousin really deserved it.”

“Oh,” the girl nodded thoughtfully, like she’d just learned something very important. “I’m gonna tell my grandma that.”

“Please don’t,” Rumi said with a soft smile.

Another kid popped up in front of her holding a half-eaten cracker. “Can you kill the vacuum? It lives in my house.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“My tummy hurts,” another one announced, “but I ate a crayon and it was the blue kind, so I think I’m okay.”

“Blue is the safest flavor,” Rumi agreed, without missing a beat.

They crawled into her lap, they tugged at her sleeves, and one of them tried to braid her ponytail using a rubber lizard. It was chaos, but warm and silly, and the kind of mess that felt like a vacation from fighting soul-eating demons.

A chubby toddler leaned his entire weight on her arm and asked, “Miss Woomy, are you a princess?”

Rumi paused.

She looked around at their bright eyes and juice-stained smiles, and nodded.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Today I think I am.”

Just outside the playroom, Mira and Zoey were supposed to be helping refill the water cups and supervise painting, but they’d both stopped in the doorway, watching Rumi with identical wide grins.

“She’s a natural,” Mira whispered, sipping a juice box she definitely stole from the snack table.

Zoey snorted. “She looks like she got tackled by a glitter tornado.”

As if on cue, a toddler near Rumi loudly declared, “I peed but it’s a happy pee! Not the bad kind!”

“I take it back,” Zoey said, blinking. “She’s a brave natural.”

Rumi caught sight of them over the toddler crowd and shot them a helpless look, mouth twitching into a barely-contained laugh.

“Don’t you dare leave me alone in here!” she mouthed.

Mira and Zoey exchanged a glance.

“Rock-paper-scissors to see who goes in?” Mira offered.

Zoey cracked her knuckles. “Loser has to sit through story time and pretend to understand toddler logic.”

They played.

Mira lost.

With a resigned sigh and a fond smile, she stepped into the chaos and knelt beside Rumi, who instantly looked relieved.

One toddler pointed at Mira and asked, “Is that your mom?”

Rumi grinned. “No, that’s Mira. She fights demons.”

The toddler nodded solemnly. “Cool. Can she fight my stepdad?”

Zoey, watching from the door, laughed so hard she almost dropped her juice.

[hiddenhornsclub]

nsfw/mdni Jester!Huening Kai x Princess!Reader

not proofread, reader has female anatomy, fingering, tit+clit stim, p in v, aftercare

Evil ruler of a father loves torturing the Jester, Huening Kai. Causing him to make a fool of himself, blabber jokes, and lose his voice while singing for hours. But Kai thinks it’s worth it because it makes you smile.

One night, Jester!Kai is called to your chambers. He’s sweating, nervous because he has never been to your room, nor has he been called by you. Fixing his messy hair under the idiotic hat, shining his guitar, then rushes through the castle halls.

Coming upon the door of your chambers, he takes a deep breath and pushes forward. That same breath gets caught in his throat seeing you in your nude color slip dress. It was unlike anything he’d seen on you, always wearing vibrant colors adorned on outrageous dresses. This was different.

You walk towards the jester, nightgown clinging to your hips and legs while you walk. Kai gulps when he notices your perky nipples peaking through the satin. You lift a gentle hand placing it on his shoulder, greeting him so casually. However, Kai falls to his knees, not able to handle your beauty, your glorious aura.

“Your majesty,” he swallows hard trying to hold back a stutter. Eyes lifting to your face, that glistened in the moonlight. “D-do you want me to sing you a lullaby? Tell you a story? Entertain you?”

You chuckle so sweetly, a sound that had the man’s heart flutter. Your hands hold the jester’s face, Kai almost leans into the hold before going back to work. Suddenly standing up he grabs his guitar and strums the strings, but you lower his grasp of the instrument.

“No, I wanted something else from you.” You admit.

“I will do anything for you, Your Majesty.”

A faint smirk turns your lips. “Is that so?”

He looked ethereal, his features were soft, yet striking, like a marble sculpture of an idea of the most handsome man. It was a shame that there were no suitable princes that could match his beauty and talent. You stare into the Jester’s big brown eyes with twinkling stars reflecting on them. Iris flickered trying to read your mind as to what you wanted from him.

Your gentle hand grazes the curve of his blushed cheek down to his chin, guiding his face so that your lips touch. Kai’s knees fall weak, close to falling into you. The princess is kissing him, and he is beyond delighted. However, he didn’t know what to do with his hands. One still held the guitar whereas the other stiffly hung by his side.

Cupping his jaw, threading your fingers through his wavy hair as if needing more closeness, more warmth, more of the jester. The kiss grows hungrier, tasting everything unsaid, longing for one another, tension, months, and years of glances every time Kai goes to work and entertains the king.

Lips part, only to find each other again with more fire, more need. A loud crash of the guitar hitting the floor from Kai finally giving in to the touch of you. Tongues brush in a passionate rhythm, breaths hitching and mingling, chests rising fast and uneven.

Heartbeats faster as both of your footsteps bring you to your bed. Falling into the soft quilt, Kai lifts his upper body to look at you under him.

“Is this what you wanted, princess?” He says breathlessly, overwhelmed by your sprawled-out body. A lustful image that will be added to his next songs.

You nod your head, “Yes.”

Kai’s fingers lightly lift the thin layer covering your body. He treated you like a delicate crystal that could break with any wrong move. His long fingers slipped in between your legs and felt your arousal coating them. You whine at the feeling, back arching and bringing your tits to Kai’s face. He leaned down and sucked your pebbled nipple through the silk cloth as he rubbed soft circles on your folds.

Burning desire filled from your core to the rest of your body. Squirming and thrusting your hips against the jester’s hand. Kai focuses on your clit causing you to moan out. His eyes were on you, still stimulating your breasts. In awe of how your body reacted to him, your head was thrown back and limbs twitching from pleasure.

After you cum on his fingers, his lips are back on yours. Softly kissing you, letting you take your time to recover. You sigh, and look at him, eyes dark and your mischievous smile telling Kai that you’re not done with his entertainment.

He tears away the crazy attire he’s forced to wear, stripped down naked. His broad shoulders cover you like a roof as he hovers over you. “That’s more like it.” You say while feeling his muscular arms.

“You know for a princess, you’re quite naughty.” Kai smiles before going down for another kiss.

He lifts your legs to wrap around his waist. Then lining his dick to your hole. Slowly pushing into you, still delicate for the princess. Stretching you and going so deep you could feel him in your throat. You were in absolute heaven, yet asking for him to go faster.

Kai has to restrain himself from turning his kisses into bites. He doesn’t think the kingdom would be pleased by the markings of a jester. All he could do was hold your hips tightly and follow your commands. Thrusting into you, angling you to get that perfect spot. Your moan increased and became louder until you both couldn’t hold on any longer.

The jester is quick to clean you up. Dipping a rag into a bowl of water, wiping you. He memorizes every curve and marks of your beautiful body. Kai was glad that he could fulfill his duty by entertaining the princess. To his surprise, as he starts to get dressed you reach out for him. You beg for him to get back in bed. There he sang you a lullaby as you fell asleep.

[elianavlogs]

— lee ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა heeseung .

ᝰ.ᐟ warnings : 18+ viewing, unprotected (wear condoms!!) f!reader x 희승 drug endorsement (pls don’t do!!) 희승!dealer, thot!reader (lwk bimbo??) degrading kink, etc words : 1,131 ───── ꒰ 弗洛 ꒱ · ʚɞ·

your hair stuck to your glistening forehead as heeseung thrust his cock in your cunt, mumbles and cries being heard all through out the tiny uptown room. although maybe you deserved it….

it was so hot, it being July was no joke. simply to put it, you didn’t really live in the nicest area your parents would prefer you to live in, but it was home. the streets smelling of marijuana, and other crack dealers supplies. although you would judge these dealers for leaving the stench of their products on the streets, you can’t well since your wonderful boyfriend was sadly apart of that community.

your back straightening up, as you get near heeseung’s hidden supply warehouse. for obvious reasons why it was hidden (police…) he luckily gave you the location to it. a stiff young man standing at the door seeming to be bored off his ass stares at you before letting you in.

you let out a small ‘thank you’ as you walk into the warehouse, although the security wasn’t allowed to talk to you your energy still radiated off of them. you let out a small sigh, as you feel the ac conditioning feeling the breeze through your hair.

then DING coming from your phone, grabbing it from your handheld purse, as you check the message great-fully it was heeseung.

“ hey, baby im gonna be a little late this guy ain’t picking up which pack he want so just stay there don’t go touching thing either. ”

the text wrote, you just left him on a heart reaction since you knew he probably couldn’t say anything back even if he wanted to. to occupy your mind, you look around at all the little plants, sun-heat dishes, chemical mixing bonds, mixers, machines and things like that. although through all that, this one place interested you, it was a PINK color which match your outfit perfectly. you were going to look it up, but you left your phone in your handbag which was currently on a mixing counter.

it’s just a flower? even if it’s weed it won’t hurt unless you smoke it which you weren’t planning on doing that, even though heeseung said no. it’s just a small flower and he has large quarts of it! so just like that you snap the flower off of its stem, the pollen having whiplash on you, as you softly cough.

then the door opens, it’s heeseung. you drop the flower not knowing you have some of the pollen on your hands, heeseung lets out a smile as he sees you.

“ mhm.. you smell good ”

heeseung says, as you give him a hug, pollen covered hands covering him. giving enough for him to smell

“ thanks i thinks its because of that flower!! ”

heeseung straightened up, as he glances at the flower on the floor softly smushed as he looks back at you.

“ fuck baby, you just don’t know any better ”

heeseung says, as your vision turns more to a blur. sexual desires coming out of nowhere, as the pollen has consumed its self in your mind. heeseung seems to be feeling the same, the way his hands found the way around your waist.

“ mhm heeseung, ”

you say as he tightened his grip on you. his muscles popping out as he picks you up, moving things then he places you on a mixing counter which now empty. you feel your cunt getting wetter as heeseung brings his warm fingers to your panty clad pussy. the material clearing as he rubs you through your panties.

“ hm!! hee! don’t t-tease please. ”

you say whimpering, as he chuckles at your wimpy little comeback. heeseung’s eyes having a hazy of pink to them… same pink as the flower. his slim fingers pulling down your, panties as he stuffs them in your mouth. tongue being able to taste your own juices, making you softly moan.

“ fuck little whore getting off to her own juices ”

heeseung says, stuffing one finger in your pussy, as you buck your hips whining due to the flower you sniped it makes your pleasure feel well ten times more pleasant for you. meaning your just a moaning leaking mess for your boyfriend.

heeseung adds another finger, as he pumps them in and out, making little wet noises due to your cunt leaking on him.

“ you never seem to listen do you? ”

he says snapping a little in his voice as he changes his form of his fingers to a ‘come here’ motion, hitting a soft spongy spot, as you moan his name like your making a curse to him. rolling your pink hazed eyes back, as he continues hitting the soft spongy spot.

“ c-cumming!! please! ”

heeseung could only laugh at you then your juices leaking like a waterfall as you cum. your body softly shaking, legs softly closing together.

“ turn around, and get on all fours like the brainless whore you are ”

heeseung says, as your now weak body getting into a doggy style stance. heeseung slips off his pants and underwear, as he lifts up your miniskirt pushing it to your hips. his tip rubbing on your sobbing pussy. as you let out gasp and whimpers. heeseung slaps your ass, having it jiggle in its place. then he pushes all of his length into you, filling your tight cunt with all it could want.

“ h-hee! t-too big!! ”

you say holding on to the edge of the table, your hair sticking to your forehead as heeseung thrusts into your pussy.

“ you don’t listen to me, why should i listen to you? ”

he says slapping your clit, making you hold a silent scream. As your mouth forms a ‘o’ shape, tears trembling to fall off. his tip bulling your cervix, as it plunges back in and out. rough, and rougher ever try as heeseung groans when he feels you clench. not even having time to say your cumming, your cunt tightens around heeseung as it squirts out liquid. heeseungs cock now slippery due to your juices covering him.

“ you want it inside, want me to knock your dumb ass up? ”

heeseung, says as he grabs your hair pulling it back as your back arches back down on his cock. you nod quickly, tears falling down your rosy cheeks. heeseung grunts as he goes more into sloppy and quick, soon he holds you down. his seed spilling into your cunt, feeling his dick plop out of you with a wet ‘pop’ sound. your pussy feeling now, feeling full of liquid as it leaks down off the table.

“ next time baby, listen to me and don’t touch aphrodisiac. now come on let me get you cleaned up and we can go eat. ”

ᝰ.ᐟ a/n : hiii this was prettyyy short but it’s okay! ANYWAYYY how are yall! 📸

 ©elianavlogs all rights reserved of 2025 and further on

[cowboylikemac]

NATIONAL ANTHEM || H.P

pairing: harry potter x reader

summary: you bring your American traditions to the burrow, including independence day.

warnings: none (if you see any please lmk!)

word count: 3k

a/n: happy fourth of july to those who celebrate!! <3

The Burrow was buzzing with typical Weasley summer chaos. You could smell wildflowers, fresh scones, and that hint of magic from Fred and George's latest failed prank. Fireflies lit up the twilight sky as stars appeared over the fields. It was the Fourth of July—not a big deal in the wizarding world, but super important to you as an American exchange student from Ilvermorny spending summer with the Weasleys before your sixth year at Hogwarts.

You were leaning against the wobbly porch rail, sipping blue-glowing lemonade that fizzed against your lips. The feeling matched the flutter in your chest when you caught Harry Potter staring at you from across the garden. His glasses caught the fading light, his hair messy as usual, but something about him was different this summer. Maybe it was his confident posture, that defiant look in his green eyes, or that cocky smirk when he caught you looking back.

"Oi, Yank," he called, walking over with his hands in his pockets and flannel sleeves rolled up. "What's with all the sparklers?" He nodded at your bundle of muggle sparklers in a jar on the table.

You raised an eyebrow, twirling your hair. "It's the Fourth of July, Potter. Independence Day. You Brits might not get it, but it's huge back home. Fireworks, freedom, you know the deal."

He snorted and leaned beside you, close enough that you smelled his cedar cologne. "Freedom, huh? I could get behind that." His voice had an edge—probably thinking beyond just holidays, with Voldemort's threat growing daily.

You studied him. Harry wasn't that skinny kid from your first year anymore. He'd grown up, all sharp jawlines and quiet intensity, with a charm that sneaked up on you. "You'd love it," you teased. "Bonfires, loud music, people blowing stuff up for fun. Totally your style."

His grin made your stomach flip—confident and a bit dangerous, like he knew exactly what effect he had on you. "I'd fit right in, then."

Before you could respond, Ginny bounced over, her red hair glowing like sunset. "Are you two flirting again, or is this just how Americans say hello?" she teased, grabbing a sparkler and twirling it.

"Bugger off, Gin," Harry said good-naturedly, nudging her. She laughed and ran back to where Ron was failing to teach Hermione broom-less Quidditch.

You turned back to Harry, noticing his lingering gaze. "So," you whispered, leaning closer. "Will you help me light these sparklers later, or are you too cool for muggle stuff because you're the Chosen One?"

He rolled his eyes, but kept smirking. "I'm not that much of a jerk. Plus, I've got some tricks planned. You'll see."

When night fell, the Burrow transformed with light and sound. Fred and George had enchanted firewood to burn in shifting colors—red, blue, white—lighting up the mismatched chairs and blankets on the grass. Someone had charmed a wireless to play music that sounded like Queen and other American artists, all sultry and yearning. It felt like a night where anything could happen.

You knelt by the garden, lighting the first sparkler with a match. It burst to life with golden sparks dancing like tiny stars. "Not bad for a muggle toy, right?" you called to Harry, who was watching you intensely from a nearby blanket.

"Not bad," he admitted, coming over. He took a sparkler but used his wand to light it, creating not just gold but a swirl of colors—purple, turquoise, red—like a tiny galaxy. "Thought I'd add some flair," he said, his voice low and challenging.

You laughed and crossed your sparkler with his, making the sparks shower together. "Show-off."

"Says the girl who brought a suitcase full of these," he shot back, eyes gleaming. "What's next, making me sing the Star-Spangled Banner?"

"Only if you beg," you teased, bumping his shoulder. The contact sent a jolt through you both—you could tell from his quick breath.

The night unfolded with laughter and magic. Ron accidentally set his sleeve on fire trying to impress Hermione, she put it out with a quick water spell and a roll of her eyes. Ginny and Luna danced barefoot in the grass. Fred and George set off mini-fireworks spelling cuss words until Mrs. Weasley chased them with a wooden spoon.

But you and Harry stayed in your own little world. You sat on the blanket, knees touching, sharing treacle tarts as music played around you. The air felt warm and full of promise. You noticed how his eyes lingered on your lips when you laughed, how his fingers brushed yours when passing a tart.

"So," he asked quietly after a while, "what's it like back home? Your Fourth of July."

You leaned back, looking at the stars. "It's loud. Messy. People grilling burgers, kids running with flags, fireworks over lakes. It's... free, you know? Like everyone forgets their problems for one night and just lives." You glanced at him, heart aching at the shadows in his eyes. "You'd love it, Harry. You deserve a night like that."

He was quiet, holding his burnt-out sparkler. "Yeah," he finally said roughly. "Sounds nice. But I don't get nights like that, do I?"

His words hit you hard. The war, the prophecy, Voldemort—it all lurked beneath this perfect summer night. Instead of saying something deep, you just did what felt right. You took his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

"You do tonight," you said softly. "Right here, with me."

Your eyes met, and the world disappeared. No war, no Dark Lord, just you two and the magic in the air. Then he leaned in and kissed you—gentle at first, then more confident, like claiming something he'd wanted for ages. The kiss tasted like lemonade and treacle, sweet and warm, with that reckless confidence you'd seen in him all summer.

When you pulled back breathless, he was grinning again, voice sassy. "Well, Yank, that's one way to celebrate."

You laughed and shoved his shoulder. "Shut up, Potter."

But he didn't. Instead, he pulled you closer, arm around your shoulders as you leaned against him, watching Fred and George's last fireworks explode—red, white, and blue, just for you. The music swelled, and all you could think about was Harry's warmth, his thumb tracing circles on your arm, and the endless promise of this summer night.

The following days were full of stolen moments—you and Harry sneaking to the orchard to practice spells (and steal more kisses). Late-night talks by the fire where he shared things he'd never told anyone about Sirius and being the Chosen One. You told him about your life back home, and he listened like every detail mattered.

One afternoon by the pond, with the sun beating down and dragonflies buzzing, he turned serious. "You know this can't last, right?" he said quietly. "Summer's gonna end, and then... back to Hogwarts, back to everything."

You propped yourself up, meeting his gaze. "I know. But I'm not scared, Harry. I'm not going anywhere." You poked his chest playfully. "I guess you're stuck with me, Chosen One."

He laughed—bright and genuine—and tackled you into the grass, tickling you until you were both breathless. "You're trouble, you know that?" he said, but his soft eyes showed he didn't mind at all.

By the time Fourth of July became a memory, the Burrow felt like home. You and Harry weren't just a summer fling—you were something more, something that could survive sixth year, the war, everything. As you packed to go back home till school started back, keeping a sparkler as a souvenir, you caught him watching from the doorway.

"What?" you smirked. "Gonna miss me already?"

He crossed the room in two steps and pulled you into a passionate, promising kiss. "Not a chance," he murmured against your lips, but the way he held you said otherwise.

And as you stood there wrapped up in each other, with the Burrow full of summer sounds, you knew for sure: this was your independence day—your sparkler-bright and heart-racing.

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tags - @lydiascabinsix @lydiasfalling @laufeysvalentine

[puprdou]

you’re the only person that your boyfriend, SOUTH TERANO, allows to see him with his guard down. he always had his guard up in any situation outside of home or with rokuhara tandai, but when at home..

well, that’s different. when it’s just him ’nd you at home, he doesn’t care enough to have his guard up, because nobody is stupid enough to gang up on him in his own damn home!

he’s fresh out of the shower, water droplets soaking his form ’nd drip, drip, dripping down onto the floor with each step he takes away from the bathroom, a thin towel wrapped loosely around his hips.

the love line from his hip to his upper thigh was so well-shaped with his muscles, a long strip of small blonde hairs that match his hair color lining up from his groin just making him look even more sexy.

his hair was down ’nd wet, slid down ’nd sticking to his ears, half-covering his eyes—which he seemed not to care about.

meanwhile, you, his partner, laid along the soft comforters on his bed. laying on your tummy with yur legs kicking up in the air, your gaze turned to him—your eyes were immediately drawn to the sheer size of his muscles, water dropping across entire form with the towel barely hanging on for it’s life.

the way he stopped in his steps, giving one lazy eyebrow raise at your incessant staring upon his bod, until he noticed the way your gaze fixated on a certain part of his body, was embarrassing.

being caught so shamelessly.

“you almost done?”

“no, i’m not actually. have patience, i’m trying to look at fine art here!”

despite the heat rising to your cheeks, the sheer amount of shame you felt being caught staring, it was hard to look away.

your sass almost had him, so he crossed his toned arms across his chest, pressing up against his abs ’nd pressing his pecs up.. his buff arms practically had you salivating. it was pathetic.

and he laughed. he genuinely, pridefully laughed at the scene before him, a cheeky smile crossing his lips.

you are the only person that got to see him smile about something that isn’t revolving around violence.

you are the only person who he can get softer around ’nd not have to worry.

you are his world outside of violence. ♡

© 2025 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔, all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, steal or translate my works onto other social media platforms.

ᥫ᭡。me posting something?? twice?? in one day?? that isn’t the alphabet?? woah guys. anyways i need him nd taiju to fuck me so bad actually (≧∇≦)

[astrophysician]

Do you have any advice on designing a Sonic OC? Loop is so cool and unique, and I feel like when I try it comes out feeling more generic

(Love all your art btw)

hey thanks so much! that’s very sweet of you 🩵 i hope you’re ready because you’ve activated my trap card by putting “character design” and “sonic” in the same sentence. here we go!

this is based on my own observations of the sonic style and my previous experience designing characters.

designing a memorable character is equal parts shape language and design philosophy. my advice boils down to this: figure out what your character’s most important traits are and do everything in your power to make that as obvious as possible. but how do we do that? here’s some methodology.

in a cartoony style like sonic’s, shapes and silhouettes play a huge role in how characters are perceived. look at canon character designs and take note of what elements are consistent across the style and unique to the character.

sonic is the blueprint! he’s got a combination of round and pointed lines with the areas of interest being head, hands, and feet. these are the areas you want to pay attention to. he’s fast, so he’s got spines that shoot back and shoes that stick out in color to draw your attention when he’s on the move. see how much is conveyed with such a simple design? it’s all in the shapes! (protip: the easiest way to make a character feel less generic is to choose a body type that’s different from sonic’s. 90% of sonic characters look like this— anything that goes the way of big, vector, a robot, or even tails in some cases is going to automatically feel more unique).

think about what kind of character you’re creating. are they cool, with an ego? a rival type? consider having them mirror sonic’s silhouette, like shadow or jet. spiky shapes like triangles are great for that. are they kind and soft-spoken? rounder shapes will create a more welcoming vibe.

loop is primarily made of two kinds of shapes: rounded triangles and rounded rectangles. by building everything from one or two shapes, their whole design has consistency. triangles and rectangles on their own can be blocky and sharp, but the roundness of these shapes softens their edges and shows loop’s personality: someone who’s bubbly, but exciting too! (also i didn’t outline it in this image but even the light trails are rounded rectangles!)

sonic characters are also LOUD. everyone has one or two traits that shout who they are. figure out what ability or trait you want to stick out and make that the most important part of their design. for loop, it’s their skates. tails can fly, so his tails are exaggerated (but he’s also cute and younger than sonic, so he’s got big eyes and cheek fluff!). big is big! charmy can also fly, but he’s got a bit of an aeronaut vibe to set him apart. blaze is a pyrokinetic princess, so she has elegant clothes, while her hair and the fluff around her wrists and ankles evoke fire-like shapes. jet is brash and cool, so he’s bright green and has cool clothes to match his gear. you can use the traits of the type of animal you’re basing your character on to accentuate these elements, too. species can tell us a lot about a character!

here’s even more examples in the form of IDW characters (and Gemerl). try examining them for yourself!

ok, so you’ve looked at shape language and decided what your core characteristics are. once the building blocks are in place, it’s time for ✨details✨

now, just because sonic characters tend to look simple doesn’t mean there’s not room for detail. what matters is how you apply it. details can be as little as a buckle on a shoe or as complex as a fully outfitted combat cloak. the key to executing this effectively is to have the details compliment the larger elements, and ultimately, help us understand who your character is.

tails’ details come largely in the form of his fur shapes. he’s so fluffy! big has stripes and a detailed belt and sandals to solidify the fishing vibe (i’d also call his gloves details here). the stripes on his pole even mimic the stripes on his fur. blaze has jewelry and a gem on her forehead, as well as pointier eyes to contrast sonic’s. surge has metal bits all over her clothes to catch electricity and give her a punk look. you might be noticing something: some details provide a look as well as a meaning. the more you can weave your details in with purpose, the stronger your design will become.

let’s take another look at loop. pretty much every aspect can tell you something about their character.

since the most important part of loop’s design is their skates, they have the most concentration of detail. i wanted them to look high tech and cool in a skate-y way, so i tried to mimic rollerblades with the plasticy elements and bold stripes. this shows that loop has a lot of capability while also looking cool! i made their gloves big and floppy to make it seem like they’re just a bit of a rookie, with the simultaneous purpose that they’re heat-absorbent to prevent loop from getting burned by the skates. they wear athletic clothes because they’re always ready to do something exciting. they’ve got cute bangs and a big ponytail (whose shape i intentionally picked to mimic sonic and other characters, with three elements each) because they’re cute and kinda feminine. with their hair tied back, they’re ready for action, but with a bang covering their eye they’re still pretty loose with it. the markings around their eyes put emphasis on their eyes which makes them seem cuter.

the rest is just design philosophy. because they’re a ringtail cat and i wanted to hammer home the “ring” motif, they’re covered in stripes and even have a little ring design on their clothes!

a little disclaimer: i definitely don’t come up with all these details before designing a character. they’re things that come naturally as i draw them and explore the design. so i guess, draw your character a lot and don’t be afraid to experiment and change things up :)

the last piece of advice i have regards names. sonic characters often have names that describe what they “do” or what they “are.” blaze. shadow. sonic. silver. jet. even amy rose is a cute name for a cute girl. the name is the final icing on the cake, the ribbon that ties it all together. who is your character, and what do they do? but that’s just a suggestion. at the end of the day, you can call your character whatever you want. no matter what you choose, just make sure their name is a special one!

PHEW that was fun. i hope that was helpful! i feel like i always have more to say on the subject, but i think this goes over my main ideas while providing a lot of examples. lemme know if you have any questions, and happy designing! y’all better show me your OCs!

[nightghoul381]

Ellis Twilight ~ 3rd Birthday Story

Chapter 3

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

No Warnings for this part, but it does become NSFW in later parts, so MDNI

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue

“…Hey Kate, wake up.”

I was in a deep sleep, but his voice woke me up.

When I opened my heavy eyelids, Ellis was pointing outside the window with a happy look on his face.

Kate: “Good morning…”

Ellis: “Kate, look outside.”

Hearing the cheerful voice, I raised myself up and looked out the window where a dazzling light caught my eye—

Kate: “It’s sunny!”

My sleepiness disappeared in an instant and I met his gaze.

(I need to get ready quickly!)

Seeing me hastily jump off the bed, Ellis also stood up and started getting ready.

Ellis: “Hey, I woke you up, didn’t I?”

Kate: “Yes, thank you. As expected of you, Ellis.”

He smiled at me and I thanked him as I tied up my hair.

Then, Ellis put his jacket over my shoulders.

Ellis: “It’s still cold outside, so put on my jacket.”

After we finished getting ready together, Ellis held out his big hand to me.

Ellis: “Are you ready?”

Kate: “What about you, Ellis?”

Ellis: “Once I hold hands with you, I’ll be ready.”

With a sweet smile and his offered hand, he looked just like a prince.

The corners of my mouth curled into a smile as I took his hand.

Kate: “I’m ready now too!”

Then Ellis’ smile deepened, and he took my hand and lead me out the door.

Ellis: “Let’s go.”

We began our walk through the quiet morning town.

About 20 minutes’ walk from town, a vast flower field appeared before us.

Kate: “It’s supposed to be at the back of this flower garden… but I can’t see it from here yet.”

As I walked ahead of Ellis, still holding his hand, he stopped in his tracks.

Ellis: “Ah, I saw it.”

Kate: “Oh, really?”

Ellis: “Look, there…”

I looked towards where he was pointing, but it was only natural that the view was different given the difference in our heights…

(I can’t see it, I’ll need to get closer.”

I moved my feet again and approached it.

Ellis: “Oh, look. There’s lavender lying around, do you think someone picked it?”

He picked up some lavender stalks that had fallen to the ground and held them out in front of my face.

Kate: “Hehe, even just a few is pretty.”

Squinting at the scent of the lavender, I too began searching for fallen lavender on the ground.

As we got closer to the field, the color of the soil disappeared and it was completely covered with purple flowers. It was so beautiful.

I looked up as a strong wind blew, sending the scent of lavender floating up into the air.

As the petals fluttered up, a beautiful sight unfolded—

Kate: “Wow, that’s so pretty—wha?”

Ellis: “Kate!”

The moment I took another step, my feet got stuck in the mud and the blue sky completely filled my field of vision.

(I’m falling.)

Thinking I would be falling to the ground, I closed my eyes tightly.

But suddenly my body was floating in the air—

When I opened my eyes, I was being held by Ellis.

Ellis: “That surprised me. Are you okay?”

Kate: “Y-yeah, I’m okay…thank you.”

I couldn’t answer properly because the lavender fields spread breathtakingly as far as the eye could see.

And in the center of it all, my lover was smiling.

The endless sea of purple matched the color of his eyes very well.

A beautiful color, like the sky at twilight, just as night begins to fall.

It was my beloved Ellis’ color.

Ellis: “We finally got to see the lavender fields.”

He smiled happily and gazed deeply into my eyes.

Kate: “…Are you really looking?”

I asked him, feeling that I was the only one being reflected in his eyes, but he replied as if completely unfazed.

Ellis: “Yeah, I see it. I see the lavender in your eyes.”

Kate: “Really…”

I was happy, but also a little embarrassed, so I put my arms around his neck and looked back into his twilight eyes.

In his eyes, I could only see myself, with my cheeks flushed red.

I truly felt that I was happy.

Kate: “Happy birthday, Ellis.”

Kate: “Every day I spend with you is so happy…”

Kate: “There have been more than a few times when I thought that it could have been my last day.”

(Even now.)

I felt like I could have this moment last forever.

I felt extremely happy.

(But, the end surely isn’t here.)

Kate: “But when I’m with you, Ellis, the greatest happiness is constantly renewed.”

Kate: “That’s why I don’t want things to end yet.”

Because our happiness would surely continue from now on.

Kate: “I want to keep recreating the happiest moments together with you, Ellis. Forever and ever.”

Ellis: “Kate…”

After hearing what I said, Ellis bit his lip slightly and narrowed his eyes.

Ellis: “…I never knew what I wanted to do until now.”

Ellis: “I thought it was nice to see someone happy, but I didn’t really know what I wanted to do.”

Ellis: “Thanks to you, Kate, I’ve become a little more selfish, but…”

Ellis: “But right now, there’s something I want to do—a big selfish wish of my own.”

Kate: “Huh?”

A fresh early summer breeze blew, and small flowers floated up, carrying their fragrance.

He just stared at me.

Ellis: “I want to be involved in everything that makes you happy.”

Ellis: “I want all your happiness to come from me.”

Ellis: “That’s my big, selfish wish.”

He tilted his head, and the corners of his mouth relaxed.

Ellis: “Is that crazy?”

He spoke, narrowing his eyes again.

Little by little, he’d become more selfish, and now he’d shared one big selfish request.

That alone was more than enough to make me happy.

(I can’t believe that his request was about me…)

--I felt like I could burst into tears at any second.

Kate: “It’s not crazy, but… it might already be happening.”

Ellis: “Huh?”

Kate: “Because without you, Ellis, I can’t be happy.”

I didn’t think I could be happy without him, but I guess it was too late now.

Ellis: “Hey, Kate.”

His sweet smile captivated me and his barbed love spread around me, making it impossible to go back.

Ellis: “Until the moment I take your life, I want you to be happy.”

I probably wouldn’t be able to live without him anymore.

But that’s exactly what he wanted.

--His one big, selfish request.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue

[cigarettesuga]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀sweet like home ୨ৎ ( bangtan )

・summary in which they fall for someone short, soft, and full of fire—an american girl with trinidad & tobago roots who teaches them joy, rhythm, and the kind of love that feels like celebration.・genre fluff / slice of life / domestic daydreams

✸⠀⠀REQUEST⠀⠀፧⠀⠀ Hello my friend, I hope that you are having a good day! 😊 Well, For my first request, I wanted to see if you could do a headcanon with BTS x short black!reader (Short meaning like 5’2 in height and who’s from America with Trinidad and Tobago Caribbean roots/culture which includes the accent,food and of course Soca Carnival) who they date, want to marry and have children with in the future? ( You can choose how many kids each of them should have!)🐦‍🔥🌺🏝️🍹

masterlist⠀ | ⠀taglist⠀ | ⠀more to read

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀◟⠀namjoon⠀◝⠀

៹⠀he noticed her before she noticed him. not because of her height—though the contrast between their sizes was comically cute—but because of her presence. she had that thing he could never quite describe. she’d walk into a room and hold it without effort, confidence in her step, fire in her eyes, that Caribbean lilt in her voice like a verse he wanted to memorize. she said his name once—“namjoon”—drawn out, playful, a little teasing, and he thought about it for days. he didn’t know it yet, but his whole soul had already leaned in.

៹⠀he respected her roots with quiet devotion. he asked questions, but only after listening. he read about Carnival, watched documentaries on Trinidadian independence, tried to understand the complex legacy behind her joy. when she cooked for him—callaloo, pelau, or her family's version of mac pie—he ate like it was sacred. he loved watching her cook, music playing, hips swaying, voice humming along to soca. he’d press kisses to her shoulder while asking, “can you teach me that one?” Not just the recipes—the meanings.

៹⠀he was weak for how small she was next to him. he’d wrap his arms around her and cover her completely, chin on top of her head, hands always moving—stroking her curls, tracing patterns on her back, gripping her waist when she teased him for being too soft. she’d pull him onto the couch during storms and narrate her favorite Carnival memories, eyes sparkling, voice animated, feet in his lap. he loved that she was fire and comfort all at once. he once called her his “favorite contradiction.” she rolled her eyes but kissed him anyway.

៹⠀he brought up marriage like it was a mutual idea they’d always had but hadn’t said out loud yet. “if we got married, would you want to do it here or back home?” he asked one night while folding laundry, and when she said “home, always,” he just nodded. he wanted the whole thing—the music, the steelpan, the feathers, the street dancing, the sweat and the color and the soul. he said they could write their own vows in a mix of patois and Korean, and she laughed, teasing, “you better pronounce mine right.” he promised to practice.

៹⠀he wanted two kids. maybe three, if they had her energy. he said he wanted his kids to feel anchored—to their culture, their language, their rhythm. he wanted them to grow up with loud music, loud laughter, and two parents who danced in the kitchen like no one was watching. sometimes he’d watch her braid her niece’s hair, fingers quick and gentle, and he’d imagine a daughter with her eyes asking him about poetry. “i’d be useless,” he joked. “she’d have me wrapped around her finger.” she already had him wrapped, if he was honest.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ◟⠀seokjin⠀◝⠀

៹⠀he fell fast. like, embarrassingly fast. she was tiny, bold, all cheekbones and heat, her accent smooth as honey and twice as addictive. she called him “sweet face” in passing once, and he short-circuited. from that day on, he was hopeless—following her around with that wide, dopey smile and throwing his worst pick-up lines just to hear her laugh. he’d bend down dramatically to match her height, hand over his heart, saying, “how does someone so small take up so much of my brain?”

៹⠀he was obsessed with her culture. he took doubles so seriously, he made a whole rating system in the Notes app. he'd beg her to cook bake and shark like it was a national emergency. she made fun of him for crying over pepper sauce, but he insisted it was “emotional tears.” he loved watching her talk about Trinidad—voice animated, hands moving, stories flowing. he swore that watching her dance to soca was better than any concert he’d ever performed in. she teased him for being too stiff, but he got better with time. (he practiced in secret.)

៹⠀he couldn’t get over how perfectly she fit under his chin. he made it a thing—hugging her from behind when she cooked, tucking her under his arm on the couch, insisting she sit in his lap in crowded spaces. he was annoyingly in love with her attitude, her snark, the way she’d pop off at him in patois when he got on her nerves. she’d mutter “this tall man really playing games today” under her breath and he’d be delighted. he said being yelled at by her was an honor.

៹⠀he proposed on a beach in Tobago after Carnival. not during the event—after, when the crowds were gone and the air was still heavy with music. it was private, just the two of them, feet in the sand, leftover glitter in her hair. he pulled out the ring without a speech, just a soft, “I don’t want a life without you.” he insisted on a wedding that was half traditional, half vibes. he wanted a big party. he wanted music that made people cry. he wanted to wear pink. she said he was insane. she still said yes.

៹⠀he wanted two kids. a boy and a girl. “you name the first one, I name the second,” he said like it was a fair deal. he imagined family trips to Trinidad for Carnival, his daughter in sparkly wings, his son banging on steel drums. he wanted to raise them loud and confident, like their mother. sometimes he stared at her while she braided her hair, tiny gold hoops catching the light, and thought: this is the kind of beauty that deserves to be passed down. and god, he wanted to help her do it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ◟⠀yoongi⠀◝⠀

៹⠀he didn’t fall for her all at once. it happened slowly—first in the way her laugh rang out across a room, unfiltered and magnetic, then in the way she moved through the world like she belonged to every space she entered. she was small, barely reaching his shoulder, but she had presence. power. she’d look up at him with that knowing smirk and call him “sweet boy,” and it made something tighten in his chest every time. he’d pretend it didn’t get to him. it always did.

៹⠀he couldn’t get enough of the way she sounded. her accent made the most ordinary words feel charged, wrapped in a warmth he hadn’t known he needed. she’d talk about home while stirring a pot of pelau or prepping saltfish buljol, and he’d listen with his chin in his hand, nodding like he understood even when he didn’t. he’d hover near her in the kitchen, stealing tastes with his fingers, letting her scold him in Trini lingo he made her repeat so he could memorize it. he started carrying pepper sauce in his bag like it was nothing.

៹⠀he wasn’t big on public affection, but he’d always have a hand on her—pressed to her lower back, fingers hooked through hers, brushing over her thigh while she scrolled on her phone. he loved watching her dance when she thought he wasn’t looking—hips rolling to soca in the living room, oversized tee sliding off one shoulder, curls bouncing with every sway. she once taught him how to wine, laughing breathlessly when he got it all wrong, and he’d never been so in love with another human being in his life.

៹⠀he brought up marriage quietly. no fanfare, no big moment. just a soft “you ever think about getting married?” while they lay in bed one night, her ankle hooked over his thigh and his arm wrapped around her middle. he didn’t want a huge wedding. he wanted something that felt like them. he said he’d follow her to Trinidad in a heartbeat if she wanted to get married on the island, barefoot on the sand or lost in the crowd on Carnival Monday. he wanted to feel her joy like sunlight on his skin.

៹⠀he only wanted one kid, maybe two. something about the idea of being a dad scared him a little—but when he imagined them with her eyes and her laugh and her sharp tongue, it stopped being scary. he said he wanted a daughter first. someone small and fearless like her mother. he already knew what songs he’d play when rocking her to sleep, what camera he’d use to take her first photos. sometimes he watched his girl holding a baby at a family party, cheeks flushed, gold hoops catching the light, and he just knew. this was it. this was his whole future.

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀◟⠀hoseok⠀◝⠀

៹⠀he fell in love with her energy first. she was short, yes—barely reaching his shoulder—but she moved like a giant. loud, warm, expressive, always talking with her hands, always pulling people in like gravity. he watched her light up a room the way most people dream of doing. and when she looked up at him, all teasing and gold hoops and mischief, and called him “pretty boy,” he knew he was in trouble. in the best, most irreversible way.

៹⠀he threw himself into her culture the way he did everything—with full heart, full joy, full curiosity. he memorized the names of dishes after one bite: pelau, macaroni pie, bake and shark, corn soup after a long night out. he started adding hot sauce to things he definitely shouldn’t. he let her guide his hips at parties, taught himself to wine properly, even if it took a while. “i’m a dancer, but this is different,” he’d say, flushed and laughing, and she’d shake her head like he didn’t even know how good he looked moving with her.

៹⠀he teased her about her height constantly—picking her up just because he could, using her as his personal armrest, calling her “fun-sized” in the most loving voice imaginable. but he also treated her like royalty. opened every jar, kissed every inch of exposed thigh, pulled her into his lap in public like she belonged there. and she did. she’d fall asleep in the car and wake up with his jacket around her and her favorite soca song playing quietly through the speakers. he noticed everything.

៹⠀he talked about marriage like it was a given. not if, but when. he wanted the ceremony to be true to her—rooted, beautiful, full of soul. he said he’d wear whatever she wanted. “let it be yours,” he told her. and after? after, he wanted to follow her through the streets of Port of Spain, jumping up with her during Carnival, both of them glittered and laughing, dancing for no one but each other. it wasn’t the wedding—it was the after-party of their lives.

៹⠀he wanted four kids. loud ones. wild ones. kids that danced in the grocery store aisles and sang off-key and talked over each other at dinner. he wanted them to have her laugh, her fire, her sense of rhythm. he wanted them to grow up with soca in their blood and Korean lullabies in their ears. he practiced baby talk with strangers’ toddlers in public just to make her laugh. and when she caught him staring at a little girl once with soft eyes and a full smile, he just shrugged. “i want all of it. with you.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ◟⠀jimin⠀◝⠀

៹⠀he fell for her the way most people fall into rhythm—naturally, instinctively, before he even realized it. she was tiny, just a little thing, 5’2” on a good day, but she had energy that made her feel larger than life. he couldn’t stop staring the first time they met—her skin glowing under the sun, her voice all lilting vowels and playful edge. the way she moved when she laughed, the way she’d say “boy, behave yourself” when he flirted too hard. it undid him every time.

៹⠀he was enchanted by her roots. he asked so many questions, genuinely curious, always eager to learn—“what’s that dish called again?” “wait, how do you pronounce that?” he loved watching her cook, especially when she moved like her kitchen was a stage, hips swaying while she stirred bubbling pots of callaloo or fried up bake and saltfish with her bonnet on and music blaring. and god, the soca. she taught him how to dance with his hands on her hips and her voice in his ear whispering, “don’t fight the music, feel it.” he felt it everywhere.

៹⠀he was obsessed with the contrast between her softness and her fire. how she’d kiss him slow one minute, then roast him the next for being dramatic. how she’d stand on her toes and flick his forehead for teasing her about her height, only for him to melt when she nuzzled into his neck a second later. he’d let her fall asleep on his chest while they watched movies, one arm under her back, the other playing with her curls. he’d press a kiss to her temple and whisper, “you’re the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me.”

៹⠀he talked about marriage all the time. in casual, dreamy hypotheticals. “what if we had our wedding in Tobago?” “do you think my mom would survive Carnival?” he didn’t want a wedding that felt cold or stiff—he wanted joy. he said the ceremony could be simple, quiet even, but afterward? he wanted a celebration. music in the streets, soca blaring, her dancing in full costume while he followed behind with glitter on his face and no shame in his heart. not part of the wedding—just part of their love.

៹⠀he said he wanted three kids. maybe four. he wanted them to speak both languages—Korean and English—with bits of patois sprinkled in just to drive him crazy. he wanted them to grow up knowing rhythm, knowing history, knowing love. he already had a lullaby playlist saved in his phone. he already talked to your belly even when there was nothing there yet. and when he held your niece in his arms, cradling her like she was something sacred, his voice softened into something only you would recognize. “one day,” he whispered. “one day, that’ll be ours.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ◟⠀taehyung⠀◝⠀

៹⠀he said she looked like a goddess the first time he saw her. not because of some grand outfit or perfect lighting—just the way she carried herself. short, yeah, but powerful. her voice had that smooth, musical cadence that made everything sound richer, like she was always mid-story. she laughed with her whole body, flirted with her eyes, and when she teased him in patois, he didn’t understand a word but felt every syllable. she touched his wrist when she said “you sweet, you know that?” and he knew he’d follow her anywhere.

៹⠀he was fascinated by everything she came from. he wanted to know it all—the names of her favorite street vendors, the songs she danced to growing up, the way her grandmother made callaloo. he’d sit in the kitchen and sketch her while she cooked pelau barefoot in one of his shirts, or record her explaining the meaning behind Carnival traditions like he was archiving magic. he learned to wine from watching her, copying her hips, then getting all flustered when she joined him, laughing, “boy, what you doing?”

៹⠀he was obsessed with her height. not in a teasing way—more in a devotional way. he’d kneel just to be eye level, wrap himself around her like a blanket, call her “pocket-sized storm” when she got mad. he carried her all the time—threw her over his shoulder, picked her up mid-kiss, spun her around the living room during slow songs. sometimes he’d just stare at her, chin on her shoulder, murmuring things like “you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” until she’d whine for him to stop. he never did.

៹⠀he said he wanted to get married somewhere warm, somewhere alive. “Tobago,” she said, and he swore he saw sunlight in her eyes. he didn’t care how the ceremony looked—as long as it was hers. he wanted something soft, meaningful, surrounded by family. but when Carnival came, he said he’d match her costume for costume. feathers, color, gold on his skin, her hand in his. not a wedding outfit—just celebration. just joy. he said, “that’s how i want to love you. out loud.”

៹⠀he wanted one kid. maybe two, but definitely one. he said it like a wish—“i just want a little version of you.” he imagined lullabies sung in two languages, bedtime stories that blended Korean fables and Caribbean folklore, little hands learning to paint, to dance, to speak in rhythm. he wanted their child to know their history, to hear steelpan and feel it in their chest. he said their family would be a blend of art and joy and legacy. he already called her “home.” a baby was just the natural next verse in their love song.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ◟⠀jungkook⠀◝⠀

៹⠀he noticed her the moment she walked in—not just because she was short (though her height made her adorably easy to spot in a crowd), but because she moved like someone who knew joy. there was something in the way she laughed, chest-deep and without apology, that made something shift in him. and when she spoke, her voice—warm and lilting with that unmistakable Caribbean cadence—wrapped around his senses like a melody. he was hooked before he even knew her name.

៹⠀he became obsessed with her food, almost embarrassingly so. the first time she made him curry goat with buss up shut, he actually moaned, mouth full and eyes wide like she’d cast a spell on him. from that day on, he followed her around the kitchen like a shadow, asking a million questions in a mix of half-English, half-Korean—“what’s that spice?” “why it smell like heaven?”—and when she taught him how to wine to soca music in their living room, he was bashful but determined. she caught him practicing in the mirror more than once, biting back laughter while he took it dead seriously.

៹⠀he never stopped teasing her about her height, especially when she was trying to reach something off the top shelf. he’d hold it out of reach just long enough to hear her curse under her breath, then hand it over with a smug smile and a kiss to the top of her head. in the mornings, he’d pull her into his lap while she drank coffee and hummed old calypso songs under her breath, pressing his face to her shoulder and murmuring that this—this—was his favorite part of the day.

៹⠀he brought up marriage one night when they were both tipsy, tangled together in bed with music playing low from her phone speaker. “you know I wanna marry you, right?” he said, voice low and sleepy, more truth than question. it wasn’t a proposal—not yet—but it was a promise. he let her take the lead with wedding talk, always nodding when she said, “it has to feel like home.” he wanted the carnival bands, the feathers and glitter, the sound of steelpan and the taste of sorrel wine on their tongues. he just wanted her—loud, laughing, radiant—on that road with him.

៹⠀he said he wanted two kids, maybe three. he imagined them bold like her, full of rhythm and mischief, tiny hands beating on pots and pans in the kitchen. he talked about teaching them to draw, to drum, to love loudly. he called her mama playfully before they were even trying, resting his palm on her belly after sex and whispering nonsense in her accent just to make her laugh. when he watched her cuddle his niece on video calls, something clicked into place. he didn’t just want that life—he needed it.

quietly , always cigarettesuga . ୨ৎ

lu's note heyyy just wanna say—i’m not black, and i’ve never had the honor of visiting beautiful trinidad & tobago. i did my best to research and be respectful with how i portrayed things, but i know that no amount of googling or youtube deep-diving can capture the full heart of a culture. so if anything felt off, i’m truly sorry. it’s never my intention to be insensitive—on the contrary, i loved this request so much and really wanted to make a little space where more of my readers feel seen and celebrated

taglist Ꮺ @aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @h6rtf9lt @wynterlove @rpwprpwprpwprw @annyeongbitch7 @namgimini @princesstiti14 @belleilichil @poetryforthesad @lelewright1234

[anzuhan]

same anon as before, and im thinking not just in anzu’s physical self-expression! i mean like, are there any colour schemes anzu might associate with a pet, or childhood favourite toy or show, or a friend’s favourite colour? a colour that makes anzu think of a fond memory? patterns or styles that remind anzu of a hobby? i always like learning trivia like that in other character designs, so if anything like that inspired an element of anzu’s design it would be a nice nod to anzu’s background!

anzu does like using this dark red - pink .. in between.. whatever and most designs do have it unless it doesnt work with the rest of the design colors. still it doesnt really help w anything much. anzu also doesnt associate it with anything, anzu just likes working with this color and also some friends agreed its a very 'anzu color'; anzu is just far too neutral and open to everything in order to pick favorites when it comes to picking colors like this for the rest of the colors... (as for anzu just likes using this color as an accent color and moreso in the outfit)

anzu likes making designs to match a character anzu really likes a lot too at times, but now it'd be troublesome to base it around len because anzu will just wind up looking maybe a bit too close to rin and people will mistake anzu for rin again w

[ghostedtea]

my December Holiday fan-design

[mangofanarts]

Them

[popfishjr]

Made some doodles of some of my friends' ocs!

@nicoriice @alive-currently @royal_jules_parker on instagram!

(Was debating posting this on tumblr, and i finally came to a decision)

[constellation-skirmishes]

hey guys did you know i love women

[invinciblerodent]

yes, the location or the lighting aren't the greatest, but, little Iona is done now! they're sitting in my yarn bowl ❤️

(which is something of an issue because I kinda don't have the heart to take them out of there so that i can use the bowl)

[majoringinsarcasm]

People hating on a literal child because she doesn’t physically look like a character in a book who we only ever saw in concept art and fanart vs me who was kinda sad when I realized book Percy wasn’t black because the description of a young boy living in New York who’s close with his single mother parent who is constantly seen as stupid troublemaker by both peers and teachers and his moms awful boyfriend and who’s only friend is the only other Outcast (non white) classmate who’s only ally is the literature teacher who then he finds also has doubts about him felt very if not fully black then at least mixed coded.

But then I moved on and enjoyed the story for what it gave me, can some of these people say the same 🤔