#kiln machine

[snpcmachine]

SnPC Machines, your brick making partner

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[acorviart]

hot tip for potters: don't shake your kiln

the leading cause of ceramic failures is not something so mundane as trapped moisture or glaze fusing but actually me breaking into your studio and violently shaking your kiln while it's firing

shop

[icewindandboringhorror]

If you became super rich and could design your own house, but could only add THREE unnecessary/random/expensive home additions (like how people will have bowling alleys, movie theatres, closets with museums of shoes, car display rooms, spa rooms, wine cellars, etc. in their mansions) - what three would you choose?

[aswathiindustries]

water pollution control in india

WATER POLLUTION CONTROL

[eyenaku]

FOOL MASK (GITM BY @venomous-qwille)

Handbuilt porcelain with slip, overglaze, glaze, and gold lustre accents. Paint and lacquer detailing added post fire. Handsewn fool's cap and bells added post fire.

This mask is a part of a (loosely connected) mask series, all hand-built and fired using a range of different temperatures and techniques.

My favourite mask to date, Fool from Ghost in the Machine by the wonderful @venomous-qwille !! GITM is absolutely incredible and I cannot put into words eloquently how much I adore it and Fool so instead I made this mask! Hi!

My word was this mask a struggle to make. The mask itself is entirely one piece, and entirely porcelain!! That's right, those long thin rays are solid porcelain!! The eyes and tips of the blades are done in 22 carat gold lustre. All colouring save for the black and the satin sections of darker red on the face were done with only slips and underglazes. The red colour was correct without the paint, but I thought a contrast from the rest of the gloss would look nice :)

Made to scale, the mask measures 50.8x60.96cm without the hat, and 50.8x116.84cm with it! (20x24in without hat, 20x46in including hat). He is Large, but turned out absolutely lovely and I send my many many thanks to the kiln gods for producing him unscathed.

(naku & wall for scale)

(he's so big guys i have large walls (the top of my head is only slightly above the top of the bookcase beneath him) look at him at the wall it's nuts)

[ssaeri]

we fall to ashes

☆ tags: alex x gn!reader, he finds something that he never expected to see on your farm, this was going to be angst with an angst ending, but then my sister begged me to not write a sad ending, so have this relieving happy ending instead, LOTS of alex spoilers! ☆

Alex stretches his arms over his head and breathes in deep. In the distance, he hears chickens screaming—a sure sign that he's getting closer to your farm. The walk from his house isn't short, but while his grandparents would complain about the distance, he finds it ideal for cooling down after his harder work-outs. And he gets to see you at the end? He'd say that's a winner winner chicken dinner situation...out of earshot from your coop, at least.

"Hey there! Evelyn's boy!" Pam calls from his right.

He slows to a stop and waves. She sits in the driver seat of her newly repaired bus, window fully open, and takes another swig from her Joja Cola. Immediately, her face scrunches.

"Mornin', Pam!" he yells back. "How's that alcohol detox going for you?"

"Awful." She smacks her lips and holds the can up to her eyes, searching the ingredients for what makes it so fucking nasty. You often joke that it's the bitter taste of capitalism. "I could go for something stronger in this heat. You think the farmer has an extra glass of pale ale?"

Alex's smile tightens. Ever since Pam and Penny's trailer turned into an actual house, Pam's been doing her best to break old habits and he's glad for it—he can finally walk by her without the reflexive gag and hurried steps. You telling me I stink? she used to ask, angry in her drunken stupor, until she remembered why he showed up on his grandparents' steps nearly two decades ago.

She must read it in his expression now because she waves him off with a roll of her eyes. "I'm kidding, kid. Tell 'em I said hi. They're the only one who takes this damn bus anyway. I might as well take a nap." She slides sunglasses onto her face and reclines her chair until he can't see her anymore. "If I'm still here by the time you go home, wake me up."

Classic Pam, he thinks as he continues to your farm. Your dog is already running from the front door to greet him, panting and barking and disturbing your horse's peace.

"Come on, buddy," he laughs, shooing your dog until he can push open the gate. "I was supposed to surprise them."

Alex scratches your horse's ear as he passes its stable. Grape vines twist and sag on the trellises you've set up for the season, the structures nearly bursting with fruit, and he makes a mental note to stop by tomorrow to help with the harvesting. Maybe it could substitute for a work-out. He's helped you ship boxes of produce before and wondered how ripped he'd be after a month of your lifestyle. Between the trellises, the melons are just starting to come in. He doesn't know how long it takes for them to ripen, only that they taste really good when you drop off a basket for his grandma.

He calls out your name. Not in the fields, not in the pasture. Your new greenhouse, maybe? You were muttering something about ancient fruit last night. Or the mushroom cave, something he still can't believe is a feature on your farm. If Demetrius could add that, maybe Alex could talk you into installing an outdoor lifting station.

He walks past your workbench and active machines...

...and walks backwards again, hoping that his eyes are deceiving him. Crystalariums reproducing diamonds to sell, charcoal kilns working double time for enough coal, bone mills churning out fertilizer, geode crushers crunching rocks into pebbles, furnaces roaring as they smelt ores into bars—and right on top of the furthest furnace sits a wrapped bundle he's only seen in his (second to) worst nightmares.

He hears your content humming now, somewhere in the main farmhouse. Under normal circumstances, he would've called it cute, but the sound rings mockingly in his ears as he approaches the darkened flowers. A wilted bouquet. Fuck.

.

.

"Oh, hey there!" Alex called out as you got closer. He tossed his ever-present gridball into the air. "You here to catch fish again? I think you can find salmon in the river this time of year. At least that's what I heard."

Once you came to a stop in front of him, you shook your head, hands still behind your back. "I'm not fishing today," you said. "I actually wanted to give you something."

"Yeah?" His lips quirked into a grin. Another toss into the air. "Wouldn't happen to be a Salmon Dinner with extra lemon, would it? Those are one of my favorites, but I can never catch any salmon myself. Another egg would be cool, too. I've been adding your weekly deliveries to my workout meals."

You only shifted from one foot to the other, unable to take your eyes off his shoes, and a part of him faltered. You weren't intimidated by him, were you? Ever since you found him crying on the beach, he had been a little more flirtatious than usual, layering on the teasing and showing off. Maybe he came on too strong. Haley always told him that subtlety wasn't his strong suit. The grip on his gridball changed as he tossed it higher.

"You okay there? Did I do something...wait, this is—ow!"

The ball bounced off his head and landed in the grass, but he couldn't care less. He pointed to the bouquet in your hands. Not a regular bouquet, but the Bouquet made to order by Pierre. In a place as small as Pelican Town, there was no need for Pierre to have it in constant stock, so when the signature blooms made the rare appearance, they attracted everyone's eyes.

"...you want to get more serious?" he asked, incredulous.

Something in your expression changed, and you drew the flowers back to your chest. "Oh, sorry, did you not?" You gave him a wide smile, already stepping away. "I must've read the signs wrong. My mistake."

"No! That's not—I mean, you read the signs correctly. I, uh, I feel the same way." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his face flush. "So I guess we're together now? Should I be asking you out on a date or something? Or wait, are you asking me out on a date? How does this work?"

You laughed, a genuine sound this time. "We can continue the way we were before."

And so you did, but some things changed for sure. He could hold your hand now as you ran errands around the town, carrying half of the gifts you handed out to the townspeople. He could kiss you goodbye at his door in the evenings, though George cleared his throat loudly every time. Alex remembered making some snide comment about his grandpa, who yelled out a gruff I heard that! before being shushed by Evelyn. When It Howls in the Rain was being shown at the town theater, you bribed him to a screening with the promise of Stardrop Sorbet, but as much as he loved the treat, he would've gone anyway—it was one of his favorite movies with one of his favorite people. Good thing he'd seen it before because he spent most of the time staring at your side profile, wondering when he could finally go pro and have you stare at him on a screen.

.

.

Your dog nips at his fingers. He pets it absently. He thought everything was going fine between the two of you. Just yesterday, you came over and had dinner with him and his grandparents. You told them about your mining adventures in the Skull Caverns and, to his horror, showed off your old stitches from Harvey. (George chided your reckless behavior and gave old-timey advice that you nodded along to.) You talked about the new farm you're setting up at Ginger Island—Ancient Fruit wine all year! you told them excitedly. It's a farmer's heaven!—and the Beach Resort you're trying to restore. (Evelyn hummed at your energy, asking rapid-fire questions about the flora there.) You even promised to bring over a season's worth of eggs and leeks as soon as you got your hands on them. (Alex's mind flashed to the old mariner and the mermaid's pendant he could see hanging around your neck in the future.)

So why is a wilted bouquet sitting here, right on top of your furnaces?

No point in guessing when he can just find out the answer right from the source. He takes the flowers and goes to your door, knocking twice. It opens before he has time to second guess his choice.

"Alex! I didn't know you were coming over," you say, beaming at him. He wants to immortalize this version of you: face full of dirt smudges and t-shirt collar soaked through with sweat, yet glowing in your element. Until your eyes drop to his hands. "Oh, that's..."

He sets his jaw. "Can I come in and talk?"

Your expression falters further at his cold tone, but you step back and lead him to the living room. Your dog trots in and settles by the TV, head on its paws, watching with blank eyes. Alex sits in his usual spot and you yours, and suddenly he hates how familiar he is with your space.

It's still silent.

You clear your throat. "So," you start, wiping your palms on your jeans. A nervous tick he knows well. "What did you want to talk about?"

He puts the bouquet on the coffee table between you.

"Right." You pause, likely waiting for him to continue, but he doesn't say anything. "Alex, can you at least be less mean about this? I feel like you owe me that much after all this time together." He says nothing. "Like, tell me what's wrong instead of sitting here stone-faced. Things were okay. Why are you breaking up with me—"

"Why am I breaking up with you?" He barks a laugh. "Baby, I found this outside on your furnace! I'm not going to beg for you to stay, but what the hell is this?"

Your forehead furrows. "What? I wouldn't."

"If it's not yours and it's not mine, then whose is it?"

"I don't know! Alex, I wouldn't—I never even thought about breaking up," you insist. "Why would I lie about that?"

After scrutinizing your stricken expression, his relief comes in waves. He sinks into your couch, hands rubbing at his face.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just—" He laughs again, the sound mostly air. "Yoba, that scared me. If someone left this here as a prank, I'm hunting them down tonight." He lifts his head to look at you and opens his arms. "Can you come over here?"

You wrinkle your nose. "I'm gross."

"You could be playing in mud with your pigs, and I'd still jump in."

With a roll of your eyes, you hop over to curl into his side and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You stink, but so does he after a good workout. Now that he thinks about it, he's still in his gym clothes.

"You scared me, too," you tell him, gaze trained on the table. "Not the best thing to see on a Friday afternoon. But now I want to know whose this is. Did you check it for clues?"

"Didn't bother. Thought it was yours." His arm around your waist tightens as you lean forward. "Does it matter?"

But that doesn't stop you. You have the bouquet in your lap now, prying at the blackened ribbon and wrapping. "Look at this," you say, holding it between two fingers. "The ribbon isn't blue, and Pierre always uses blue. The wrap is pretty much disintegrated, but this corner—he always puts his store brand." You suck in a breath. "Oh, duh! Where did you say you found this?"

"The furnaces right outside by the workbench."

"Okay, so mystery solved. This is mine, but not in the way you think."

He raises an eyebrow. "Explain. Don't say you're breaking up with a secret partner because I don't think I can handle a second shock right now."

"I made a wildflower bouquet to put on Grandpa's grave a few days ago, but I totally forgot where I put it, so I made a second one. This one must've been the one I misplaced."

He blinks. "How the hell did you not notice it since?"

"I came back from Ginger Island yesterday and went to sleep right after dinner! The flowers must've wilted from the furnace heat."

"You," he says slowly, pinching your cheek and ignoring your squeak, "are the absolute worst. I can't believe you nearly broke my heart and it turned out to be a whoopsie."

[mxtxfanatic]

Hua Cheng and He Xuan: The Would-Be Gods

Jun Wu continued, “To become a ‘Supreme’, one must have experienced an unimaginable suffering and pain. One either ascends from such calamities or are doomed to the depths of hell, never to return. The two Supreme Demon Kings that emerged from Mount TongLu, Black Water and Hua Cheng, are both far more terrifying than you think.”

—Chapt. 56: In Search of the Past; Retracing Steps to Mount TaiCang (Part One)

This quote is interesting in how it links being a Supreme inseparably from being a god, but what I find most fascinating is what Jun Wu doesn’t/can’t mention: that Supremes are a direct result of the corruption of the heavens.

Both Hua Cheng and He Xuan had their path to godhood snatched by the corruption of the heavens, but their trajectory is almost completely oppositional. Both had earned godhood for their actions fighting evil in defense of the weak. Hua Cheng gave up an eye to forge his weapon in order to save a group of stray humans who had wandered into the kiln, whereas He Xuan fought his way into the homes of the corrupt gentry who had terrorized his hometown and died after killing every last evildoer. But instead of ascending, as was their right, He Xuan has his godhood stolen by Shi Wudu under the eyes of the Heavenly Emperor, and Hua Cheng summarily rejects his ascension due to having previously witnessed the mistreatment of Xie Lian by multiple heavenly officials. Because their paths to the heavens were tainted, the two Supremes were “doomed to the depths of hell,” instead, ironically creating domains that ran much more fairly than the heavens they rejected/were rejected from.

At the same time, the crown prince of Wuyong ascends as a powerful god before falling to the machinations of the other gods and descending into White No-Face. However, where the previous two Supremes ultimately rejected the heavens of their own wills and accepted themselves as demon kings, White No-Face still wanted the power and adoration of being a god. Thus, Jun Wu ends up corrupting the heavens into a place that harbors and encourages evil in direct contrast to the domains of the Supremes serving as refuges.

[ghostbeam]

empty til she fills | fuyumi todoroki x reader

You’re beautiful, really. It’s truly no wonder why they chose you for the job, every line and curve and fold. They’ll never be able to capture you the way you really are. Nothing compares to the real thing.

Her eyes gaze over your neck, down your chest, over your stomach, your thighs. That familiar hunger sits in Fuyumi’s stomach, aches in her jaw. She wants to bite you everywhere that she can, really make you bleed. But Fuyumi doesn’t feed from anything but animals, and it’s not like you’d satisfy her hunger anyway. She’s given up on that feeling a long time ago.

Notes: Hiiiii everyone!!! This is the first installment of vampire empire and it’s all about fuyumi!!! It’s much shorter than I thought, but when it was done it was done u know? I love her I think she should be allowed to go apeshit and drink blood and not hold back if she wants to!!!!!!! Let her fuck!!!!!! Anyways yeah thanks for reading!! (title from vampire empire by big thief) u can listen to the playlist for the whole anthology here! Also I made a Pinterest board!

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, f! reader, explicit content, dark content, angst for like the briefest moment, violence, vampires, detailed descriptions of blood and gore (on both reader and another person), murder (u kill someone! It’s offscreen tho), blood kink, biting, drinking blood (fuyumi drinks from reader, u both drink from the dead man), biting and drinking from already open wounds, fingering, oral (reader eats fuyumi out!!! Yay!!!) (bloody), bloody sex, reader is sort of a masochist, soooo many commas, a line completely stolen from fascination (1979) cause I had to ajsjsjsjs, perspective changes between u and fuyumi like a lot idk I’m sorry she spoke to me<3

words: 4.3k

Fuyumi has always been a little unsure of what to do with her hands. When she sits, when she walks, when she kisses, while she waits. Where does she put them? Where do they go?

It’s the same, squeezing porcelain clay through her fingers, molding and shaping and running a wire through the middle and cursing when it doesn’t topple over. She’s bad with her hands, but she loves it, lumpy mugs and all. 

And her mugs are lumpy, most of them break in the kiln, but whatever she’s proud of, she sends to her brothers. 

She’s never been much of an artist, and all the years she’s lived (many, many years), none of it ever interested her. But when you’ve done everything, there’s no harm in trying. And so even though her pots and bowls end up twisted and misshapen on the wheel, she tries and tries until they’re at least a little bit useful.

The truth is that there, in the studio, surrounded by people who do all the same things that she does, mess up and try again, break things when they don’t turn out, or smash fragile wet clay held together by careful hands, Fuyumi feels human. She makes mistakes. She screws up. It’s something she’s never been allowed to do before. 

Plus, you’re there. 

The anatomy class pays you to model. Sometimes, she sees you run around in your long robe, buying snacks from the vending machines or remembering something you left in your car. She’s completely enamored with you, with your humanity, how free you seem. She’s envious, in a way, but really she just likes you, wants you—wants to bite you. Which is dangerous for Fuyumi because she stopped feeding from humans ages ago. 

You collide on a Saturday night, left alone in the studio, separated by one wall. Fuyumi works late because she doesn’t sleep, and one of the owners of the building had given her a set of keys to lock up when she leaves. When she opens the door to the pottery studio, you’re out in the hallway, slapping your palm against the door next door and murmuring soft no’s as you peak through the glass. You have half a mind to just bust the thing down, except now you’re not alone in the hallway. 

Fuyumi. The pretty vampire with streaks of scarlet through her ivory hair, cute glasses perched on her nose, and hands you think about way more often than you should steps out of the pottery studio. You’ve caught her staring at you before, and you can’t tell if it’s because she knows of the similar condition you have in common, or if she’s as interested in you as you are in her. 

You both pause, caught staring at one another. The only thing on Fuyumi’s mind is that you’re probably completely naked under your robe. 

“I—um, got locked out.” You say, finally, blowing air you have no need for out of your throat like a breath. It must be nerves. “My clothes are in there. My everything is in there.”

“Oh!” She shakes her head free of the thoughts of your bare body. Then a realization, “I have a key!”

You move out of her way and let her unlock the door, jiggling the key in the lock and pushing it open. You grin, press your hands into her shoulders and let out a squeal of delight. “Thank you!”

“Yeah, no problem.” She speaks, willing herself not to melt at the feeling of your fingers digging into her flesh for a moment. She turns to leave, satisfied with the interaction, enough to hold her over for a lifetime, maybe. Your hands on her shoulders, your robe against your skin, your neck. 

“Fuyumi!” You call, and she feels like maybe she’s dreaming, or maybe she’s hearing things. But when she turns around, you’re looking at her expectantly. “Would you wait for me? I don’t really wanna walk to my car alone at night.”

It’s a good excuse, you think. Fuyumi’s got that bleeding heart (or lack of one). She won’t leave you alone. 

“‘Course! Yeah, I’ve gotta lock the front, anyways, so—yeah, I’ll wait.” She nods, stepping back into the room and letting the door fall shut behind her. She watches you untie you’re robe at the middle, and she spins on her heel, facing the door again. She hears you chuckle, and it makes her feel a little silly. You’re naked for, like, four hours every day. It’s not like you would care if she watched. 

But Fuyumi cares, because she doesn’t want to see you naked for the first time like that. She doesn’t want to see you naked and know she won’t be able to touch you. 

“Okay, you can turn around, now.” You speak now that you’re dressed. She turns and you walk toward her, locking elbows. She leads you outside, locks the door with your hand against her arm like she’s yours, and walks you to your car. 

“Guess I’ll see you next week.” She tells you, pulling away from you to walk to her bike. You call her name and it’s deja vu.

“Do you want to go get coffee?” You ask, stopping Fuyumi in her tracks yet again. She turns.

“It’s eleven o’clock at night.” Fuyumi says like an idiot. 

“I just—I wanna keep…hanging out.” You say, and well, so does Fuyumi. Of course, she does. “Your bike’ll fit in the trunk. I’ll drive you home after.”

So, she says yes, stuffs her bike into your trunk with the back seats folded down, and ducks into your car. 

You drive like a maniac, and you listen to your music way too loud, and Fuyumi hopes she doesn’t look as terrified as she feels despite knowing she can’t die in a car accident. But you can, she thinks, so yea, she’s terrified. And you drive like this all the time?

But you both make it in one piece, skirting into the parking lot of a diner with a yellowing neon sign out front. Everyone knows you inside, greeting you with happy smiles and asking you questions about your life, details Fuyumi hopes to know after tonight. 

You take her to a booth in the corner, sliding in next to her instead of across, thighs pressed up against each other as a waitress brings you both a mug of hot coffee. You order apple pie with ice cream, and Fuyumi envies the fact that you’re even able to eat it. Since becoming a vampire, she’s lost any appetite for anything that isn’t blood. 

“So, when were you turned?” You speak, licking vanilla ice cream off the back of your spoon, head resting on you fist as you stare at her. If Fuyumi had a working heart it would be beating out of her chest right now. “I don’t think you’re all that old. You actually seem pretty young. Tell me, maybe in the mid nineties, early two-thousands?”

Fuyumi opens then closes her mouth, unsure of what to say. How could you have possibly known (besides the fact that you got the decade way off)?

“I was turned in ’87 by an old boyfriend who couldn’t control himself.” You shrug, revealing the information like you hadn’t just told her that you, the little human she’s been so fascinated by lately, are a vampire. 

“You’re a vampire.” She says—a statement—not a question, because of course, you’re a vampire. 

“You didn’t know?” You ask, softer. She shakes her head, stares at the booth in front of her. She feels your fingers underneath her chin, and she’s not sure how she never noticed it before, but you’re hands are freezing. She lets you guide her to look at you. “Hey, are you okay? Did I freak you out?”

And it’s not that you’re a vampire. It’s not even that you’re a vampire that she was convinced was human. It’s that she wanted to bite you, wanted to feel that pop and gush, drink from you what’s not actually even being pumped through your body anymore, blood that’s lying dormant in your veins. And the thing is, she still wants to. 

“I think I’m just shocked.” She speaks, willing herself to calm down, accept the situation, adapt. “I haven’t met another one of us here in town. It’s new, but it’s…good. I’m actually a little excited about it.”

“You don’t sound excited.” You observe, letting your hand fall to her thigh. 

“I am—no really. I am.” She grins, leaning toward you. “How come you can eat real food?”

You think maybe she still hasn’t processed everything yet, the smile on her face a little unnerving. And there’s something in her eyes, raw, dangerous, hungry. It makes you shiver. “I never lost the appetite.”

“It tastes good to you?” 

“So good.” You nod, unknowingly moving a little closer. Two girls pressed up against each other in a booth in a dark corner. Two vampires. Two monsters. 

You’re there later than either of you expected to be, fingers intertwined, hands brushing away stray hairs, and words whispered against ears, tucking your face into her neck when you laugh at something inappropriate. 

When you leave, Fuyumi tugs on your hand, interlocks two fingers as you walk to your car. You drive just as bad, but she doesn’t think she minds it this time. To die by your side, and all that. 

When you drop her off at home, you scribble your number on her wrist with a green glitter gel pen and resist the urge to do something drastic like kiss her or invite yourself in. 

Fuyumi realizes she’s left her bike in your trunk, her only mode of transportation to the studio besides walking. She eyes the green glitter on her skin and opens her phone. 

left my bike in ur car:/ pick me up to go to the studio tmrrw? Read 2:22am

be there at 10 sent 2:24am

u can sit in on my class sent 2:25am

…

She does sit in on your class the next morning. You hold her hand and show her where to sit, a view of both the artist’s sketches of you and the actual you draped over a couch. It’s probably inappropriate to sit there all horny in the middle of this art class, but you won’t stop looking at her. You know exactly what your doing, mimicking the rise and fall of your chest like you’re breathing when she knows you’re not. 

You’re beautiful, really. It’s truly no wonder why they chose you for the job, every line and curve and fold. They’ll never be able to capture you the way you really are. Nothing compares to the real thing.

Her eyes gaze over your neck, down your chest, over your stomach, your thighs. That familiar hunger sits in Fuyumi’s stomach, aches in her jaw. She wants to bite you everywhere that she can, really make you bleed. But Fuyumi doesn’t feed from anything but animals, and it’s not like you’d satisfy her hunger anyway. She’s given up on that feeling a long time ago.

When the class ends, Fuyumi leaves to make more misshapen mugs, taking a few out of the kiln she thinks she’ll give to you. As the sun sets, both of you get ready to leave, and you’re at the door to the pottery studio by the time Fuyumi is done cleaning her space. You’re a little disappointed you missed watching her on the wheel, her pretty hands shaping the clay like you’ve seen her do many times before. You knock on the door frame, and she looks up at you, grins. Her hair is tied up, pieces of hair falling over her face, her cardigan falling down and exposing her right shoulder. You can’t get over how pretty she is, a little messy.

“Hi.” You speak.

“Hey. You ready?” She asks, throwing her bag over her shoulder and walking towards you. You always want to watch her walk towards you—never away.

“I’m ready.” You nod, intertwining your fingers with hers when she makes her way towards you. You drive Fuyumi to your house, your arm over the console and your hand on her thigh. 

Your place is small, really just big enough for you. The walls are a mauve color that Fuyumi decides she likes, tiny star shaped twinkle lights hang over each window instead of curtains, a bundle of violets stuffed inside a beer bottle sit on your coffee table, books and dvd’s and records all stacked against one another with what seems to be no sense of organization in your bookcases. It’s really not much for a vampire.

She sets her tote bag carefully on the counter, red and white checkered, pulling two of her signature misshapen mugs from inside. One painted blue with tiny yellow stars and the other lined with terribly drawn strawberries. 

“These are for you.” She tells you, turning to face you as you’re bent over your stereo, looking for a station you like. Bits from the past stick with you like a refrigerator magnet. Fuyumi wants to remember the look on your face when you turn around and see her gift for the rest of her life. 

“I love them!” You gush, rushing over to pick both of them up. “They’re perfect. One for me, and one for you. We’ll drink blood from them with our pinkies up and cheers to LeFanu.”

Fuyumi laughs, says nothing about the blood. “I’m glad you like them.”

You turn around, opening one of your cabinets open with a finger, setting the mugs down on the counter and moving two snoopy holiday mugs on one shelf towards the back. You set the gift down in their place and wave a hand over it like your presenting them on a gameshow, “I’ve replaced the snoopy mugs with them. That’s a big deal, you know.”

“I’m honored.” Fuyumi grins, moving around the counter to stand near you. 

“You should be.” You lean a little closer to her, let her hand brush against your hip, hook her fingers in your belt loops. You nudge your nose against hers, and she takes that as a sign to kiss you. 

Chapped lips meet yours, hungrier than you expected, much less soft than the girl before you. There’s a burning in your gut, her hands, those hands you’ve payed so much attention to, pressing into your hips, pulling you flush against her front. You let out a moan when she swipes her tongue against your lip, your bodies pressing closer and closer like you’ll become one person. She moves her leg in between your thighs, pressed up against you, and your mouth falls open in a gasp, one she wastes no time taking advantage of, all tongue and teeth, all her, her, her. 

The two of you end up on your couch, unable to make it to the bed. If you had to wait any longer, you think maybe you’d both explode. She eats you out, there in your living room, makes you come three times in a row, familiar hungry eyes never stray from your own. 

…

She doesn’t talk about the vampire thing. Ever. She goes quiet when you bring it up, busying herself with something else like washing the dishes in your sink or trying to find something to watch on tv. You mostly let it go because you know Fuyumi. You know how fascinated she is by humans, how she envies them, how that envy and fascination is the very reason you’re together now. 

And maybe it should hurt you, the fact that believing you were human was the one reason she’d been so interested. But you know her, bleeding unbeating heart and all, she loves you. She loves you and your monster, she just doesn’t love her’s.

It’s difficult to drag the body through your house alone, vampire strength being something you hadn’t been blessed with once you’d turned all those years ago. Fuyumi sent you a message that she’d be at the studio late and would probably just end up going home instead of coming over. You figure you have time to drain this guy of all he’s worth, pack him up into little tupperwares in your fridge and be done with him by morning. 

You’ve done this a million times before, dragged a body out to your back yard, fed from it until your satisfied before saving the rest. It’s enough to last you a couple of weeks. It’s a good system. 

You don’t hear the sliding door open, you just hear Fuyumi say your name. You look up at her, blood on your mouth, your neck, your hands, fangs poking out underneath your top lip. You’re sure you look terrifying, but it’s the look on her face that scares you. 

It’s disgust, and betrayal, and anger. It’s tears welling up in her pretty, gray eyes and her mouth falling open and closed at the sight of you. 

But Fuyumi, well, Fuyumi wants to join you. It’s taking everything in her not to fall to her knees and sink her teeth into the neck of this possibly innocent man. She wants to drink and kiss you, and drink, and touch you, and then drink some more, this time from your neck. But Fuyumi doesn’t kill for blood, and she thought that neither did you. 

“I can’t believe you.” Her words are quiet. If you both hadn’t been outside on a completely silent night, you don’t think you would have even heard her. 

“Fuyumi…” You begin, standing up from where you’d previously crouched down, blood on your hands falling against the concrete in sticky splatters. She takes a step back like she’s scared of you. 

“You killed him.”

“Fuyumi,” another step.

“Stay there.” You stop. It’s not supposed to be like this. She’s supposed to love you. She does love you. You have to tell yourself that. 

“I’m a vampire. What did you expect? This is who we are.” You try to explain. 

“It’s not—it’s not who I am.” She shakes her head, flashes of red appear behind her eyes, the teeth of her brothers, her hands covered in blood the same way yours are now. Laughing, hollering, arms tangled together, the last time they’d all been with each other, the last time they were happy. 

“It is. It is who you are. Fuyumi, you’re starving.” Your words seem to do something to her, her mouth falls closed. A decision is made, and her feet take her closer and closer to you and the body on the floor. 

She wraps her hand around the back of your neck, thumbs through the blood you’re covered in and kisses you. She licks the blood on your lips, moaning from either your tongue or taste, you’re unsure. You pull her close, blood smearing against her white t-shirt. She pulls away from your lips, kissing your jaw and your neck, poking her tongue out to lick up the mess. You place your hands on her cheeks, pulling her back to look at you. 

“Come here.” You whisper, pulling her down as you crouch to the ground. “I want you to drink—I want to share.”

She lets you pull her down, taking your hand in hers, slippery, slick. You move away from his neck, leaving it open for her, urging her. This is what she wants. There’s something about drinking from your bite in the man’s neck. You’ve been here, you’re bite is her bite is her blood. 

And, god, is it delicious. She drinks, lets it fall down her throat in large gulps, dripping down her chin and neck. A sound escapes her throat, guttural, everything she’s deprived herself of having, here in between her teeth. She watches you while she drinks, eyes looking up through white lashes, reaching a hand out to hold you by the wrist, grounded. She pulls away, heaving, even though she has no need for breath. Her lips, saturated in red, begging to be tasted.

“You’re beautiful like that,” You speak, squeezing her hand, “with his blood on your mouth.”

She kisses you, all tongue, her fangs catching on your bottom lip. She pulls away and pushes you down, lets you bite the other side of the dead man’s neck, pets your hair as you drink. It goes on like this for a while, kissing, drinking, touching, whispers of please and oh, god and both of your names over and over until you’re a jumbled mess of words and sounds and blood and guts. 

You stumble, half naked through the door, Fuyumi’s hands and lips all over you. You don’t make it to the bed, a habit the two of you have seemed to form, falling down on the hardwood, limbs all tangled. With her shirt already discarded outside, you thumb the hooks of her bra open, throwing it to the side. Blood has dripped from her throat down between the valley of her breasts, and you lick it up, feeling her back arch as she hovers above you. 

She kisses your neck, almost frantic. Her fangs brush against your skin like she might sink into you, but she doesn’t, just kisses you so sweetly. 

“Can I bite you, please?” She moans. “I need to—I’ve wanted to—”

“Yes.” You interrupt her, throwing your head back against the floor and baring your neck to her. She wastes no time sinking her fangs into your flesh, blood pouring into her mouth. Coppery and sweet, a hint of licorice and cherry—Fuyumi thinks she can’t get enough. You gasp, hands grabbing at her waist, fingers digging into her sides enough to leave a mark. You’ve never felt pain like this, all agony and bliss. 

She smiles at you, bloody, when she pulls away. A part of you is her’s now, nestled between her ribs, living in her stomach. You taste yourself on her lips, hands pulling at her jeans, your leg moving between her thighs to grind against her cunt. 

You flip her onto her back, sucking on her neck, venturing down her body. You pull her jeans from her legs, along with her underwear, spreading her legs. She’s so wet, thighs sticky with arousal as you run a finger through her folds. A whine escapes her lips as you thumb over her clit. With your eyes on her, you press your tongue to her entrance, watching how her face contorts in pleasure. It reminds you of the way she’d stared at you while drinking from the man, hand clutched to your wrist, not once daring to look away, With one hand, you reach up to do the same, bloody fingers circling her wrist as you devour her. 

She writhes, arching her back and grinding against your face, a mess of slick and blood pooling in your mouth as you bring her closer and closer to orgasm. 

“Please!” She cries, “please! Oh my god!”

Her moans only spur you on as you speed up the movement of your tongue, squeezing her wrist as you let her move her hips against your mouth. She comes with a strangled cry of your name, legs shaking around your head, falling limp against the floor as you lick at her swollen clit. You pull away, rising from your place in between her thighs to hover over her.

“Like that?” You ask her, placing soft kisses against her jaw. She manages a soft mhm before moving her face to kiss you.You run your hands up and down the sides of her body, “so pretty…”

“Let me touch you.” She begs, pushing herself up onto her elbows. You nod, letting her maneuver you so you’re on your back again. She kisses you again, swirling her tongue against yours, tasting herself. In a way, part of her is yours now, too.

She slips her hand into your underwear, gasping at the feeling of how wet you are. You take the opportunity to lick into her mouth, moaning against her lips as she slips two fingers inside of you. She pulls away from your mouth and eyes the open wound on your neck. You lock eyes with her, nodding in approval, allowing her to bite you again. 

She bites and curls her fingers inside you at the same time. A choked scream escapes your throat at both sensations. You move your hips as she pumps her fingers in and out of you, her throat bobbing with each drink she takes from you. It’s overwhelming, and so satisfying, being the consumed for a change. 

Her thumb brushes over your clit and you jolt, gripping her waist as she brings you closer to the edge. 

“Kiss me!” You cry, “Fuyumi!” 

She pulls away from your neck, watching how the blood flows from the wound, continuing her movements against your pussy. You pull her down to kiss you as you come from her fingers. You’re both moaning against each other, passing your blood between your tongues. She pulls her hand from between your legs, stares at the pink-tinted slick and how it webs between her fingers before wrapping her lips around her fingers and sucking them clean off. 

She smiles down at you, hair a mess, glasses-less as they’d fallen off much earlier. You press your palms against her cheeks, admiring her. This Fuyumi is hungry, and bloody, and the furthest thing from human. You love her like this. You’ll be her’s forever, if she’ll have you. 

You pull her into the shower with you, washing the blood from her hair and her back, taking turns and watching the blood swirl down the drain. She cleans the wound on your neck, and places a bandage over it, though you know it’ll be healed by morning. You place her glasses back onto her face. The two of you fall into bed, finally, arms and legs tangled together, huddled closely. She rubs over the bandage on your neck. 

“Next time, I wanna bite you, okay?” You ask, nudging your nose against her. She lets out a laugh you’re excited to hear for the rest of your immortal life and nods. 

“I can’t wait.”

[hyunfilms]

blue side of the sky (lmh) | six.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

—word count: 4.2k

—chapter warning: this is probably more of a filler chapter? things that happened here aren’t too important, but it does add to the details for upcoming chapters, cussing, worried minho, oc feeling very unwell [related to accident], mentions of vomiting/nausea, jisung being the middle man and being pulled in all directions 🥺, flashback towards the end of chapter with more oc x minho dynamic + slight glimpse into how minho's relationship was with his father

It's incredibly hot today.

You probably should've taken that as a sign to take it easy and stay indoors where you'd be comfortable, safe.

But, you were excited to get back outside again. You wanted to head into town when the pottery classroom would be open for its members, trying to make time to slip in another project that you would gift to Yuna at the wedding.

And you do get there without any issues; though, the classroom has a fan on full blast as the weather gets hotter.

Maybe it's the fact that you didn't have much besides a piece of buttered toast and some tea.

Maybe the adrenaline was too much, maybe the weather was just the reasoning— whatever it was, you should have taken it as a sign.

You use the back of your arm to wipe away at the sweat building up on your forehead, doing your best to listen to the instructor guide you as you plan this uniquely shaped vase for one of your wedding presents to Yuna. She tells you she's loading the kiln today and you give her a small smile to show your appreciation for her help, but nothing else seems to come out. Nothing else seems to register, and you're not sure why. You're not entirely sure what you're feeling, but you slowly feel yourself disconnecting from reality.

It's too bad that the beautiful weather is making you feel unwell. You really wanted to visit the floral shop and see how the sweet lady was doing.

You find yourself walking towards Sunday Morning right after you wrap up in the classroom and rush out. You're not really sure why when this was never in your original plan, but your feet take you there before you can even wrap your head around it. Today it's the usual crew, and the café isn't entirely too busy for the afternoon. It's cool inside the café to your relief, but it still doesn't do much to help alleviate what you're feeling.

"Hey, Y/N is here." Soobin turns to Minho and JJ in the back kitchen. Minho raises a brow before he wipes his hand on the hand towel hanging by his waist. He walks out of the kitchen without saying anything else, greeted by you standing near the counter. Something seems off— in a way where Minho can tell something is wrong because you're awfully quiet, and your blank expression doesn’t make it any less convincing.

"Hey." Is all he says, trying his best to read what you need right now.

"Hi." You look at him. "Can I just get some cold water please?" Minho leans forward to hear you better.

"Water? That's all?" You nod before trying to reach into your bag, but Minho cuts you off. "Water's free." You simply look at him before turning onto your heel and finding an empty seat to relax in. The seat feels comfortable and you feel like you can finally take a breather— but Minho knows it's more than just sitting and resting.

"Is she okay?" Soobin quietly asks Minho while occasionally glancing at you over the coffee machine.

"I'm gonna find out." Is all Minho replies with before taking you your water. Instead of just handing it to you though, he sits in the empty seat in front of you while placing the water nearby.

"Thanks." You say as you take a sip, closing your eyes as the cold water runs down your throat. Minho continues to watch you, arms resting on the table while he watches you run your hand through your hair.

"Hey, are you okay?" You slowly turn to look at him, placing the water cup back onto the table before digging your head into your hands.

"It's just.. too hot."

"Too hot? What else are you feeling?" Minho suddenly feels himself getting incredibly worried, and it's making him anxious. He continues to watch you like a hawk, watch as you squint your eyes as if something is hurting you— and it breaks his heart. "Y/N, talk to me. What's hurting you?"

"My head. I feel kinda dizzy."

"Dizzy? Do you feel like you could be sick?" You shake your head.

"Kinda? I have a bad headache. But, I-I think it'll—"

"Let me take you to the clinic." You shake your head.

"No, no. Minho, it's fine, I—"

"Wait here, let me just grab my things and we can go." He says without looking at you. He sets the towel aside and heads to the back area to grab his things, JJ furrowing his brows at the sudden commotion coming from his cousin.

"Uh, are you okay?"

"I'll be right back." Minho grabs his wallet and keys, glancing over at JJ. "Y/N isn't feeling well."

"Is she okay? Do you need me to do anything?" Minho shakes his head.

"Just hold it down here, please. I'll be back." And with that, he's back to your table, offering his hand for you to take. "Do you think you can walk to my car in the back?" You nod, gently squeezing his hand as he leads you to his car. Soobin gives him a worried nod of acknowledgment, hoping you'll be okay.

Sooner or later, Minho is opening his passenger door and helping you get settled. His lips are moving but you have no energy to decipher what he's saying— all you can do is lay your head back against the headrest and close your eyes, hoping it'll give you some more relief. Minho's worry grows when you don't respond, quickly shuffling to the driver's seat before heading out to the nearest urgent care clinic.

It's only about a 10 minute drive away, maybe a bit quicker since there wasn't any heavy traffic. When Minho finally pulls into the lot, he comes to your side and helps you out of the car. He lets you lean onto him for support, sitting you down before checking in at the front desk. Thankfully, it's not as busy at this time, and he doesn't think you'll have to wait long.

"Hi, can I check in for her? She's dizzy and has a migraine."

"I'll need her ID and she needs to fill out paperwork—" Minho takes the clipboard from the receptionist and starts to fill out the paperwork to the best of his ability. After all, he still knows you, and he still knows you well. It only takes him a couple of more minutes before he's sliding back the clipboard to the receptionist.

"Let me grab her ID." He says before walking over to you and crouching down in front of you. "Can I grab your ID, Y/N?" You let out a small whimper as you reach into your bag and pull out your wallet. Minho rushes back to the receptionist and slides your ID, his eyes briefly pausing at the small photo hiding behind one of your cards.

You, him, Chan, Seungmin and Jisung at the bowling alley sometime in college.

Times he cherished, too. Before he fucked it all up.

"Thanks for providing all of this. Are you her partner?" He snaps out of his own thoughts when he looks back up at her and shakes his head.

"Um, no. She's just a friend." The receptionist returns her attention to the computer.

"There's a visit fee for today." Minho slides his card and shrugs.

"Yeah, it's fine. Do you know how long we'll have to wait?"

"Nurse will probably take you guys to the back in the next 5 minutes or so."

"Thanks." He tucks everything back into his wallet and your wallet before sitting back down. He looks at you and hands you your wallet, watching as you carelessly slip it back into your bag and zip the zipper halfway. "They're gonna see you soon. Hang in there."

"Minho." You pout. "I feel sick."

"I know." Minho's heart shatters even more because he hates seeing you this way. Plus, he hates feeling so helpless. How else can he help you? "I'm sorry. It'll be soon. Do you want some more water?"

"No. My head is killing me."

"I know." He repeats, unsure of how else to console you. Suddenly, he feels your head on his shoulder and he freezes. He should be your bestfriend right now, right? You're allowed to do this, right?

There is nothing wrong with this.. right?

"Miss Y/N?" Minho gently grabs you by the arm and helps support you to the room. He awkwardly waits while the nurse takes your vitals, having you lay down on the bed while she continues to ask questions. Then, he sees you shoot up and ask for a bag, the nurse immediately handing you a bag to vomit in. Minho runs to your side and rubs at your back, his gaze shifting over to the nurse to finish answering her questions about your history.

"She was in a really bad car accident a couple of months ago."

"So, traumatic head injury? Possibly brain?" Minho nods.

"She was in a coma for three months." At this point, you've finished vomiting into the trash bag. The nurse takes it from you and asks you to lay back onto the bed while she presses a clean, cold towel against your face. She reassures you both that the doctor will be in momentarily and Minho can't tear himself away from your bed side as he anxiously waits for the doctor to come. He looks down at you and is tempted to brush the hair away from your face, tempted to hold your hand and do possibly anything to relieve you from whatever you're feeling.

"We're almost done." Minho says softly. "I'll take you home afterwards so you can rest, okay?"

"Did you call Jisung?" You start to cry a bit and it breaks Minho's heart even more. "Can you call Jisung?" Maybe it was wrong. Maybe this was all wrong. You must feel so scared, uncomfortable, around Minho right now. Because he knows everything about you, he knows you so well.

However, you don't. He is like a stranger to you right now, despite what people have told you about him.

He doesn't blame you if you feel scared and uncomfortable.

"I'll call him." He lets out a sigh as he pulls out his phone and presses Jisung's number. It doesn't take long before Jisung is letting out a weird noise as he picks up the call.

"Yo!"

"I'm at the clinic with Y/N."

"What? What the hell do you mean you're at the clinic with Y/N?"

"She came to the café and wasn't feeling well."

"Why didn't you call me to come?"

"What kind of sense does that make, Jisung? I'm not gonna make her wait."

"Is she alright right now?"

"We're waiting for the doctor." At that moment, soft knocks come against the door, slightly startling Minho. "They're here. I'll text you when we leave."

"Yeah, you better. I'm meeting you at her place. And please, for the love of God, just take care of her." Minho subtly rolls his eyes as he ends the call and shifts his attention to the doctor.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Yang." He looks at Minho with a pursed smile before stepping deeper into the room and scrolling through his ipad.

"Minho." He briefly shakes his hand before stepping aside and sitting down on the seat against the wall. Dr. Yang is asking you how you feel and if you can sit up for a brief moment so he can assess you better. He says something about this being vertigo, which is common to experience especially with traumatic head or brain injury. He suggests that you and your guardian visit your primary care physician at the hospital to double check that there isn't anything else.

In the meantime, he'll prescribe some antihistamines in tablet form. He'll need you to take it once with food. 

Minho is taking mental note of everything. Besides knowing he'll have to relay the message, he just takes note for himself. It gives him a little peace of mind.

The visit ends quickly, with Dr. Yang handing Minho a printed copy of the visit notes, plus the medication with written prescription for refills. He suggests that primary care visit again, giving Minho one final nod before helping you up to your feet slowly. He did give you a temporary over-the-counter chewable tablet to help relieve the nausea until you get home and get settled. It does help, but it still doesn't give you much energy to engage in conversation with Minho nor talk about everything that's been going on.

You are grateful, though. Very. Even if you sleep on the way home. You are grateful and he knows.

"Y/N. I'm really sorry to have to wake you." Minho lets out a sigh as he gently shakes you. "You're home. Let's get you comfortable. I'll wait with you until Jisung or Uncle Adrian comes."

"Jisung is coming?" You lazily unbuckle your seatbelt and drag yourself to your little cottage with Minho following closely behind. It's a relief the meds you were given actually helped in the meantime.

"Yeah, he is."

minho: we're at her place

jisung: good. pls make sure she gets some rest. and don't do anything dumb

minho: i'm not even gonna start with you

minho: i'm just here to make sure she's good, that's it

"Minho, thank you." You look at him as you grab your pajamas and walk off to the bathroom. "I really don't know what I would have done if I didn't stumble upon the café at the time I did."

"It's nothing, Y/N. Get some rest. I'll hang out here." Minho gives you a small toothless smile, watching as you pad into the bathroom and shut the door. He lets out a breath of relief before turning around in your kitchen, poking his head into the fridge to see if he can whip something up for you to eat later on. He finds the ingredients he needs to make the perfect seaweed soup.

When you step out of the bathroom, you don't really pay Minho any mind as you're exhausted and you still feel a tad bit loopy from everything that's been going on. Minho is starting to gather his ingredients while starting up the heat on your stove, and you do recognize that he looks incredibly natural standing in your kitchen. You still don't question or ponder much on it. All you wanna do is cuddle up in your covers and sleep for a bit.

Which you do— you drift off into a deep sleep even as Minho accidentally bangs a few things in the kitchen. It doesn't necessarily bother you, though Minho is cursing to himself for being so careless.

"Aye." Jisung shuffles into the door and Minho quickly shushes him just as he puts the lid on the pot.

"Shut up. She's asleep." He nods towards your room.

"Good. What the hell happened?"

"I told you what happened. She walked into the café and she wasn't feeling well. She asked for water and then it just went downhill from there. Said she felt dizzy and had a bad migraine."

"What did the doctor say?"

"Vertigo." Jisung lets out a sigh and leans against the counter. "She's fine. He gave her some meds. But, he still thinks she should visit her primary care doctor to make sure nothing else is wrong."

"You should've called me." Jisung looks at him worriedly.

"And then what, Jisung? Make her wait? Make things worst just because you don't want me involved?"

"It's not that—"

"Then what is it? It's been the same shit anyway, why hide from it now?" Jisung lets out another sigh.

"Can you chill?" Jisung says under his breath, afraid to wake you from your sleep. "I'm sorry, that's really not what I was trying to say. I just wanted to be there for her, too." Minho is quiet. Really quiet. He turns to give the soup one good mix before he mutters a quick:

"She looked for you."

"I knew she would." Minho turns to him, shaking his head a bit.

"But, I was there too." Jisung feels bad. He tries hard to be the middle man, to play an even field. But sometimes, he knows he's there for you more than he is for Minho even though he knows this hurts for him, too. After all, this was Jisung's idea— and he's practically the reason why you look at Minho like a stranger.

It's not his intention to hurt anyone; if anything, he just wants to save everyone even if that fucks him up in the end.

Was he wrong? Was this wrong?

"She knows you were. And I know she's grateful for you." Minho lets out a pathetic chuckle before shutting off the heat.

"Have her eat this for me when she wakes up." He grabs his things off of the counter and looks at Jisung once more. "She needs to take this starting tomorrow. With food. Once a day." Minho shows him the bottle and hands him the visit notes. "Uncle Adrian might need this, too."

"You're not gonna stay?" He shakes his head.

"Think I'm done here. She's gonna look for you when she's up, not me." Minho gives him a pursed smile before look at your room once more. He bids Jisung one last goodbye before he's out the door and heading to his car.

He lets out a sigh as he plops back into the driver's seat, fiddling with his keys as he figures out where he's going. He's got unread texts from Kat, and to be frank, he's really not trying to see her. He hasn't been in the mood to see her since he last did; when she dropped the whole thing about you right before he walked out of the door.

He'd been thinking about you more and more, even though he knows he shouldn't be. He couldn't. He wasn't supposed to.

Minho inserts the key into the ignition, driving off to the one other place he knew he could go to when he needed some time alone. Ironically, it was also your favorite place, Jisung's favorite place— you both always knew where to find him even if he needed to be in his own peace. He heads up the hill, parking alongside the curb in the neighborhood that'll lead him to the path up to the tree. The sun is getting ready to set below the horizon soon, and the soft breeze is finally kicking in for the evening. Minho kicks at the rocks as he continues to head up, bringing the tree with the wooden swing into view. He sits and admires the view of the city for a minute, pondering on his thoughts about today, you— everything.

If today taught him anything, it's the fact that he's still incredibly scared to lose you. It's the fact that he cares a lot more than people think. It's the fact that he just wants to take care of you and do better than the last time.

He was sure he'd break soon.

☁︎ FLASHBACK | SUMMER BEFORE FRESHMAN YR IN COLLEGE

"I knew I'd find you here." You pout as you pause in your tracks and watch Minho lazily swing himself on the wooden swing. His head drops a bit before he shakes his head and continues to look out at the view.

"Y/N, please." You make your way over and step beside the swing.

"I know you're angry with your dad."

"Yeah, I am."

"Babe." You pout and he lets out a sigh before his eyes shift to you. He's not amused, and you know Minho can have a temper on him when he's really upset.

"Don't pull that on me, princess. Not now." He simply says, eyes turning back to the view.

"I know he's being unfair, but I also know he just cares about you."

"Does he? Surely doesn't sound like it when all he does is talk about how much of a failure I'll be in the future."

"He doesn't mean that." You say softly. You know Minho and his father can bump heads quite often, but that's because they're both hard-headed and strong-willed. As his father though, you know he only wants the best for Minho and he's afraid of him making the same mistakes he did in the past. He doesn't want anything to hurt Minho, and he doesn't want Minho to feel disappointed in himself if things don't turn out the way he expects it to.

However, you think his father could ease up a bit. He knows. He's aware of Minho's goals— how they differ from most of his cousins and other family members, how it's a big, big leap for him to take. He knows the goal of owning a business in the future could be a lot to shoulder, but you have never seen the determination and passion Minho has in other people.

Minho is a man of his word, and if he wants something, he knows how to work hard for it in order to reap the rewards in the end.

"Babe." You call for him again, but he doesn't respond. "He's being your dad. This is new for him too, you know? We're finally going off to college and I'm sure he's scared, too. I agree that he could show it in better ways, but he cares about you and he just needs that reassurance that everything will be okay. This is what you want." It's quiet for a moment before Minho lets out another hefty sigh and stands.

"Sit." You look at him before swinging on the swing.

"Are you still mad?"

"A bit, but I'll move past it."

"You and your dad just need to have a serious heart-to-heart. Can you do that for me?" Minho looks at you, really looks at you, before giving you a tiny, pursed smile. He thinks you look so beautiful with the way the sun is hitting your skin right now, the way your eyes shine brightly like diamonds, the way the wind softly brushes your hair— he can never stay mad, not when he's around you. You always bring out the best in him, you always bring him comfort and warmth.

"Guess I really can't use this place to hideout from you or Jisung, can I?"

"No, are you kidding? This was my spot first." Minho laughs. "Besides, why would you hide from me?"

"I'm kidding." He playfully caresses your chin.

"I'll always come look for you, you know that right? I would never want anything to hurt you or make you feel like you were alone."

"I know." Minho smiles down at you because he knows in every lifetime, every universe— you'd come looking for him until you find him.

You would never let him be alone.

You are love.

You are what Minho loves the most.

"Okay." You chuckle softly before slipping your hand into his and standing. "Now, come. Let's go to my spot so you can cook some good food." Minho laughs as his thumb caresses the surface of your hand.

"Funny."

"I'll tell Jisung we're on our way back."

"I'm staying here." You laugh and tug him towards you.

☁︎ END

Later that evening, Jisung comfortably changes into some of his sweats and a hoodie, and lies on your couch to watch TV. He figures he might just spend the night to make sure you're okay. He was able to talk to Uncle Adrian about everything earlier, and Uncle Adrian seems to be relieved that things weren't worse. Jisung, though? Absolutely doesn't feel comfortable leaving you.

He hears you shuffle a bit in your covers before you let out a small yawn. He sits up and stands at your doorway, hands dug into the pockets of his sweats.

"Hey. You okay, cielo?"

"Could be better." The world isn't spinning too much, nor do you feel as lightheaded— but you also don't feel the greatest. Body still feels heavy from recovering. "Where's Minho?" Jisung looks at you and shrugs.

"He left. He wanted you to get your rest." You nod slowly. "He made some soup for you."

"Oh. I thought he'd stay."

"Do you want me to call him?"

"It's alright. I'll probably eat and get back to sleep." Jisung nods. When you find the energy to get up and walk over to the kitchen, your heart melts at the sight of a large pot of freshly cooked seaweed soup. You take in the smell once you lift the lid, suddenly feeling empty knowing that Minho cooked you some comfort food and didn't stay to eat it with you.

"What's wrong?" Jisung watches you stare into the pot before turning to him with a subtle pout.

"I feel bad that he did so much for me today and didn't stay."

"Cielo, I told you. I can call him. He just didn't want to bother you." Jisung doesn't really know what to say, but his heart breaks knowing Minho was convinced you wouldn't look for him.

Yet, here you were.

"It's okay. I'll just text him." You start to pour some soup into two separate bowls. "I should have his number right?" Jisung takes his bowl from you and nods.

"Yeah." So, that's exactly what you do after grabbing your phone and situating yourself next to Jisung. He's nestled under your contacts simply as "minho," but what's most important is the fact that you can text him to thank him for today.

you: hi, i was looking for you earlier.. i thought you would stay with jisung. but, i just wanna say thank you for taking care of me today and for cooking soup. it's great. :)

Minho pulls out his phone while he continues to sit on the swing, surprised at the text from you. Usually, he'd expect Jisung to be the middle person and communicate things. But, right now— he's not worried much about anything else. The text puts a smile on his face.

It's nice.

minho: it's nothing, y/n. rest well.

It's nice to know you do look for him.

♡ taglist: @lotus-dly​ @jihanlovic​ @meloncremesoda​ @hoes4lino​ @skzddicted​ @skzho @edgaralienpoe​ @harui-zen​ @bestleeknowstan​ @havenwithleeknow​ @septicrebel​ @heesdazed​ @borahae-reads​ @yoontaethings​ @pearbunny​ @bintificreads​ @lukeys-giggle​ @ajxreads @everglowdaisies​ @allaboutsan​ @endzii23​ @leeknowsramen @heres-your-ramen2000​ @morningstardada​ @mal-lunar-28​ @downbadreading​ @lilysophie @feelikecinderella​ @urmomma0324​ @ddazed-lhs​ @djeniryuu​ @melanctton​ @i8rsie​ @maru-matt​ @sleepyleeji​ @taerifin​ @nattisbored​ @jisunglyricist​ @m111nho​ @drhsthl​ @nixtape-foryou​ @arminseas

[tiny-vermin]

I want to know more about the m9 artist au!! I remember reading a post or two about it a billion years ago (and would love to read them again) 💜

hi jess!!!! thank u for being interested hehe :")

so ever since i drew that lil thing of essek painting a frank stella inspired painting (or even before), ive been thinking of what kinds of art each of the m9 would do. essek ofc is inspired by a minimalist show that i went to here, all the big names from that movement were shown, but those really dark, sinkhole-like paintings are speaking to me. another artwork of boxes made of mirrors also seems like the thing he would do too

there's a kiln here that we visited which was huge, and surrounding it were artists' studios and some other ceramic sellers, i imagine the clay family having a place like this in the middle of nowhere amongst the trees, and caleb would do his work there

anyways because at heart im a shadowgast luver its centred around them,, they meet at an artist residency or something like that and its an incredibly slow burn that involves talking and not-talking and looking and not-looking. in the end i am but a simple wong kar wai fan so. that kinda vibes would definitely influence this, i would describe it as a quiet burning i guess?? time skipy and words that are not said

i think im gonna rant a bit more about their different mediums and styles so i'll keep it under the cut

i think caleb sculpts figures and portraits, but in a sad, kathe kollwitz charcoal vibe. maybe some funky looking animals, perhaps some pots and vases to look at the pretty glazes. he's interested in using fire to burn texture into different mediums, like ive seen it being used on shellac to make a really cool net of ink looking structure.. but yknow, just seeing the aftermath of glazed ceramic from the kiln is enough, and probably better for him to keep his distance anyways

the clay family produces most of the ceramic to sell, vases, pots, plates, cups, teapots, yknow just a whole array. and its really colourful too, depicting every family members different style. i think caduceus would do some matte glazes with a lot of different colours, theyre all a little wonky but theyre better off that way anyways. he does some really mean ink calligraphy and painting though

jester definitely does,, everything, whatever her heart desires kinda thang. she makes pastel textile installations and lighthearted cute paintings, but theyre always so contemplative and soothing. she gets m9 a lot of work cus her mom has connections, etc etc. i really love the idea of jester creating works that talk about the female body and femininity (definitely not projecting no)

beau is a printmaker and photographer who's really experimental, she loves cyanotypes and printing flowers (for yasha), idk she seems like she would put fabric and rocks into the washing machine to see what would happen. u would probably catch her in someone elses studio learning about what they do or in the library learning about what old people did

veth works in a museum as a curator, getting beau to help her sometimes with gathering artworks and artists etc. she probably organises community art projects for kids and public art installations. her house is full of m9's artworks and various other artists shes worked with.

yasha does bouquets as her post-retirement part time job, prior to that no one really knows what she did ("she probably murdered a bunch of people and is now hiding from the government"). fjord draws comics for fun but is also not a job for him, molly is a question mark for me. but these guys probably wont be in it as much anyways

im still not sure what format i wanna do this in, im actually having fun just writing it in my notebook now (digital does not facilitate the creative juices) but i do want to do some visuals like fake movie stills or storyboards. maybe they will work together well???? dunno. working on the other shadowgasty thing im doing made me realise how much easier it is to draw when there's a script already there, so im writing the script for myself

im definitely not as practiced in writing as i am in drawing, but idk im just gonna have some fun and see where that takes me, meanwhile try not to feel too bad that its fanart HAHA (very bad habit)

edit: i just saw my previous thoughts on beau being an art journalist, but i kinda like this better.. but maybe she can do both muah

[alexriesart]

Town square in the Valley of Two Sky River, as the locals converge on a great machine from across the Kiln desert; the vanguard of the Reclamation. These ‘Kilnrunners’ are part of the forward expeditionary forces of the Reclamation, and have long endurance and survivability, as well as diplomatic facilities.   

(Bonus WIPS: you can see more on my Patreon: https://patreon.com/alexries)

[snpcmachine]

Say good bye to hand made brick, just buy and produce clay brick with Snpc Mobile clay brick making machine. BMM410, fully automatic and mobile clay brick making machine with best features and affordable machine. Some other brick making machines are BMM410, BMM310, BMM160 produce brick according to your capacities and fuel consumption.

[bigmammallama5]

Another heavy work day. Started out at the wood kiln to split wood but ended up stopping way early as the machine we rented (bc ours is in the shop) was barely performing and doing so dangerously. The silver lining is I got a whole 4 hours at the studio so I took advantage of that. Finished up the fossil lamp, trimmed up the two small bowls and cup, threw a votive vessel and a handful of ring dishes. Then a pair of cups, a serving bowl, some closed forms for pumpkins, and… a Patrick.

[bookswithsyd]

It Was HIM All Along! | Heaven Official’s Blessing

Coming back to present times, book seven of Heaven Official’s Blessing returns to the kiln with Xie Lian and White No-Face. I was waiting for the entirety of arc four to come back to the kiln. I wanted to see an epic battle between the two, maybe have Xie Lian unlock some hidden strength to defeat White No-Face and escape. That did not happen. Instead, the least likely thing happens and San Lang’s giant divine statue breaks Xie Lian out of the kiln.

Honestly, the Mount Tonglu scene didn’t grab me until Jun Wu descended to assist with the duel. Only the lending of spiritual power and the unique way of obtaining a sword grabbed me for more than a page. After everyone is sent to fend off evil spirits set on re-releasing Human Face Disease to the world, things start to heat up.

Once Xie Lian and Hua Cheng make it to the Royal Capital, Heaven’s Eye, and friends frankly are unless for the first half of what I dub the Human Array Section. None of the masters wanted to lend themselves to help defend the city. Thank god one of the best characters makes his return! Shi Qingxuan and all this broken glory is the only reason why the array gets started. Seeing him living life as a beggar, injured was hard. After reading the events of book four, I only want happiness for him, I wish he could be in better condition, but seeing him alive is enough for me.

Once the array got going, all was well for a minute, the masters gathered around to join, they brought disciples and the evil spirits could be captured. I was not expecting the Xianle state preceptor to be the thing that got the plot moving. It was a great way to transition back to the Heavenly Court.

This whole time, I thought that there was this deep connection between White No-Face and Xie Lian, but instead, I got the reveal that Jun Wu was actually the monster lurking around all the misery that had happened. Seeing Jun Wu take out most of the Heavenly Capital, the way he easily captured all the officials, set the court ablaze, and transformed the Heavens to be his own fighting machine finally showed off all the power that was mentioned throughout the series. Even though it was as the antagonist, it was nice to see that power in action.

Even with all the seriousness of this section, there were still moments of secondhand embarrassment to brighten my mood. From Qingxuan walking in on Xie Lian and Hua Cheng’s goodbye kiss to Xie Lian pulling Qi Ying in front to hide his spiritual power exchange, there is always some way for Xie Lian to make a scene.

A lot of this novel revolves around keeping the human array intact and fighting against Jun Wu. After his near defeat in Black Water territory, I thought Jun Wu retreating to the Royal Capital signified the beginning of the final battle. This was a good fight scene, Pei Ming facing Jun Wu one-on-one, Qi Rong almost getting Guzi killed, and the three mountain spirits coming to the rescue by becoming a sword all added to the suspense. Seeing everyone come together to try to take out a single enemy was a nice change of pace. Bringing together most of the introduced characters from the series made this scene even more impactful.

The ending trip back to Wuyong was the most stressful thing to read. With the uncertainty of Mu Qing being who he says he is, and Hua Cheng rolling a one and saying that it means something dangerous is waiting for him, this was not the best way to enter a new scene. Entering the one place where the enemy feels most at home is not the best idea before what MUST be the final fight. Ending the entire book by finding Feng Xin alive and scared of Mu Qing is not a reassuring way to go into the last book of the series.

[catherine-white]

As potter who fires a wood kiln I make and gather enough pieces and the right variety of shapes and forms to fill the kiln so it fires well. I set parameters of material. I conceive of the work as being functional even if some of the objects are more sculptural. I am not a machine so much of the thinking happens through the hand. The shapes are a process of imagining uses. There is experimentation and there is an element of exploiting what works. There are the ideas I revisit with new perspective.

After firing and cleaning and photographing I am once again assembling a family of forms. There are gatherings of plates, a tribe of moons, a series of covered jars, a string of bowls and a few mugs and beakers. I hope once we get our preview up and running you will take a look. And hopefully something will whisper in your ear “Take me home”

Preview will be available: Wednesday, July 17, 2024

Goes “live” at noon [EST] on Friday, July 19 , 2024.

[ajcgames]

Under the hood

There’s a lot going on over the next week or two as I start doing some under-the-hood changes to the game. Up until this point, I’ve been mostly focused on the vertical slice - which I managed to achieve - and am now looking ahead to the larger picture.

I’m very happy with how the game has shaped up, and aside from a few tweaks to how items are managed I’m more or less set on the game’s structure and core gameplay loop. That’s not to say that I won’t change things, but any major changes to the game flow will now be moved to a much later stage in the project.

My plan now is to finish the last optimisations I want to make to the game’s logic, cleaning up the save / load game system, remove some of the unnecessary overhead code from my early machine logic, and remove some unused and duplicated content from the very early iteration of the project.

I’ll then be drafting out what I could effectively call the game’s ’item tree’. A lot of all the game’s obtainable items, what machines process them and what they turn into. This will give me a kind of master list of objects I need to sit and model in Blender (and their resulting UI sprites), along with any additional texturing requirements and so on.

I’ve also added two new machine - the Kiln and the Atomic Coupler. Both act on items to produce new things, and I’ll show these two machine soon!

Anyway, that’s about it for today. Thanks for swinging by, and I’ll hopefully see you in the next one! ❤️