#my guidelines are so awful don't look

[noritaro]

I've yet to see someone draw my bbg in this shirt so I will

[coquelicoq]

i finally wrote an xword that i think might be nyt-submittable...i originally wrote it for the local paper though so i now have to go back through and rework the clues to take out the specific local ones and make some of the others harder. i know exactly which day of the week this would run in the nyt (if it gets accepted) because this type of theme always runs on the same day, so at least i know which clue difficulty to aim for, but i'm still finding it difficult to hit that precise level! i'm used to just making the clues as easy as possible because my local paper's audience is mostly people who aren't xword aficionados. i already reworked this puzzle a couple times based on feedback from friends and family but that was all still when i thought i'd be running it in my local paper. i kinda just want to be done with it but i've never had a theme and fill i thought were completely nyt-worthy before!

[headspace-hotel]

Oh my god I'm sooooo mad right now

So. I have no business telling people not to collect wild plants/materials.

I do it all the time.

However.

The words "wildcrafted," and "foraged," even "sustainably harvested," are terrifying to see in an ad on Etsy or Instagram

There is a such thing as the honorable harvest where you ASK the plant if it is okay to take, with the intention of listening if the answer is NO. Robin Wall Kimmerer talked about this, She did not make it up, it is an ancient and basic guideline of treating the plants with respect.

Basically it is not wrong to use plants and other living things, even if this means taking their life. But you are not the main character. You have to reflect on your knowledge of the organism's life cycle and its role in the ecosystem, so you can know you are not damaging the ecosystem. You have to only take what you need and avoid depleting the population.

Mary Siisip Geniusz also talked about it in an enlightening way in her book Plants Have So Much to Give Us, All We Have To Do is Ask. She gave an example of a woman who was on an island and needed to use a medicinal herb to heal her injured leg or she would not survive the winter. In that situation she had to use up all of the plant that was on the island. This was permissible, even though it eliminated the local population, because she had to do it to save her life. But in return the woman had the responsibility to later return to the island and plant seeds of that plant.

And what makes me absolutely furious, is that there are a bunch of people online who have vaguely copied this philosophy of sustainability in a false and insulting way, saying "wildcrafted" or "foraged" materials to be all trendy and cool and in touch with nature, when it is actually just poaching.

If you are from a capitalistic culture the honorable harvest is very hard and unintuitive to learn to practice. I am not very good at it still. This is why it is suspicious if someone is confident that they can ethically and respectfully harvest wild materials with money involved.

So there's this lichen that is often called "reindeer moss." It looks like this:

It grows only a few millimeters a year.

This is "preserved" reindeer moss.

It is from Etsy, similar is also sold in many other online shops, many of which have the audacity to describe it as a "plant" for decorations and terrariums that needs no maintenance.

It is not maintenance-free, it is dead. It has been spray-painted a horrible shade of green. The people buying it clearly don't even know what it is. It is a popular crafting material for "fairy houses," whatever the hell those are. So is moss, also dead, spray-painted, and wild-harvested. Supposedly reindeer moss is harvested sustainably in Finland, where it is abundant, for the craft industry. However poaching of lichens and mosses is absolutely rampant.

It's even more upsetting because there's hardly any articles drawing attention to the problem. This one is from 1999. And the poaching is still going on.

There is a "moss" section on Etsy, and it is so upsetting

These mosses and lichens were collected from the wild. Most of the shops are in the Pacific Northwest or Appalachia, which are the major locations of moss and lichen poaching. There are some shops based in Appalachia selling "foraged" reindeer moss.

Reindeer moss may be abundant in Finland, but in Appalachia it should NOT be harvested to be sold on Etsy as craft supplies! Moss doesn't grow quickly. Big, healthy colonies like this took years to grow. Some of these shops have thousands of sales, all of bags and bags of moss and lichen, and thinking of how much moss and lichen that must be, I am filled with horror.

Clubmosses do not transplant well, and these ones have no roots. The buyers do not realize they have bought a dead plant because clubmoss stays green and pliable after it is dead.

This is especially awful because in Mary Siisip Geniusz's book she talked about clubmosses being poached so much for Christmas wreaths that they had almost disappeared from a lot of forests.

I don't even know if this is illegal if it's not a formally endangered species so I don't know if I can report them I'm just. really sad and angry

[lilmashae]

jake may not be the most romantic — but he always makes good on his promises: so when he promised to give you some of the best head of your life when he got home from tour — you more than believed him.

the first thing he does when he steps into your appartment is drop is bags and run into your arms. you've been looking forward to his return all week — of course you missed your boyfriend: but right now you could only think about the flat of his tongue sauntering your cunt. he knows that you're impatient — he doesn't make you wait:

carrying you to your bedroom, he lays you on the bed and spreads you out with his lips molded onto your own. jake's hands eagerly paw at your sides... the taste of you has been on his mind for what feels like an eternity: remembering the echo of your sweet moans and how your fingers felt tangled in his hair makes him grunt — cock grwoing heavy in his sweatpants as he slots a knee between you thighs.

you can feel yourself growing wet as he grinds into you — his lips are soft trailing down your body and lingering on your neck and collarbones, leaving purple bruises adorning your skin. the dim light glows off of his cheek as he looks up at you with his hair lazily falling over his eyes. " 'missed you s'much, baby..." now above your bellybutton, he leaves hot kisses leading above your lounge shorts. "fuck..." you huff. "i missed you more, jakey."

his fingers tug at the hem of your shorts, pulling them off he continues to peck at your thighs before licking a stripe up your cunt — fingers sliding under your panties and removing them he dives into your cunt, nose gently rutting against your clit. "you always taste so good, don't you, princess?" he smiles, slipping his middle finger into your sopping heat and mimicking a curling motion. "please, baby..." your voice barely above a whisper as his lips softly vacuumed around your clit. underneath you, you could feel jake's thrusts into the bed — a desperate attempt to get off. the feeling only got you wetter: seeing your pretty boyfriend humping into the mattress without a care in the world.

his other hand held your thighs open, firmly in pace as you squirmed from pleasure. another one of his fingers dive into your cunt, slick lathering his fingers and pooling into palm. "aw, princess... 'pussy's so wet f'me... yeah?" you arch your back against the mattress, feeling the scissoring motion of his fingers reach deep within your gummy walls.

the faster jake's tongue laps your cunt, the hotter your skin feels — you're practically burning up. "mm, m'close, jake..." you could feel your orgasm quickly approaching. jake hummed into your heat as a response — sending vibrations throughout. soon you were cumming in his mouth: that tight knot winding itself in your stomach, finally unraveling as you gushed all over his tongue ♥

guidelines and disclaimers | this feels sloppy..? but i'm just trying to get back into things so i'm starting slow with this ! am trying to rediscover my writing style and find what i really like i think :)

[luveline]

hi love! i have a request in mind. i read your guidelines and saw you’re not writing smut atm so just want to clarify that that’s not what this is!! i was wondering if you could write something where reader has abnormal pain during sex? and it’s just the conversation either before trying (thinking it will be awful and she’ll get rejected) or right after (and not having bad success for that first time). the reassurance of it would be wonderful to read, especially in your voice! as for the character, i’d love either joel or hotch! whatever comes easier <3 love ya jade

hi lovely, hope this is ok!! fem, 1k

cw suggestive/adult themes, mdni

"Am I doing something you don't like?" Aaron asks quietly. 

You sigh and turn your face from his kiss, skin aflame. It was a matter of time before he read your hesitancy, but you'd hoped to power through. This is the dealbreaker for some guys. You're especially terrified of Aaron's rejection in particular. 

"It's not you," you murmur. 

He drops his hand from your shoulder to your thigh, far from anywhere intimate but a heart-skipping touch regardless. "No?" he asks, matching your murmur. "We don't have to go any further. I misread you, honey. I'm sorry." 

"You didn't. It's… I want to," you say, pitch heightening and weakening at the same time, almost raw. "I really, really want to, but it's–" You look down at his chest. "It's embarrassing." 

"Oh." He clears his throat. "I'm not young. I promise, I know the reality of a woman's body–" 

You laugh unexpectedly, "No need to brag." 

"What I'm trying to say is that I know what real women look like. I'm not expecting you to be a two sheet spread." 

"Aaron, that's really sweet, but it's not what I'm struggling with." 

"Sorry," he says. He rubs your leg gently in apology. He looks embarrassed himself now, an odd expression on him, but reassuring in a way. 

"I have this thing. Sex," —your voice sounds weird, fraught with nerves— "can be really painful for me. Sometimes I can't do it because it hurts, and I don't want to lead you on when it might not, uh, work." 

Aaron holds his silence. You rush to fill it.

"We can still try, I'm not saying I can't have sex with you, I know that for most guys it's not something you want to go without and I get if that means I'm not right for you–" 

Aaron takes your hand. "Hey, wait. Wait. Who says you're not right for me?" 

"I just know sex is a big deal." 

Aaron is full grown, and you should've expected this, but it still shocks you when he speaks without cringing, "I won't tell you I don't enjoy it, but having sex with you isn't the only thing I want from you. Honestly, it probably doesn't make the top one hundred." 

"It's not that I can't…" 

"Right. It hurts?" he asks. 

Emboldened by his question, you squeeze his larger fingers between yours. "Yeah, it can hurt. Not always, but even if we take it slow I can't guarantee I'll enjoy it… The top one hundred, really?" 

Aaron leans down slowly to kiss your cheek. "Really. I don't want to lie to you, I want you. But mostly to make you feel good."  

His tone is quiet, measured, with a hint of hoarseness, and his breath fans warm over your skin. This is the very first time you've had this conversation  and still wanted to try afterward, confident that the partner understands what you're saying. 

"I probably should've told you before." 

"You told me when you were ready, that's all I want from you." He kisses your cheek again, before his arm is woven across your shoulders and your face is hooked into the curve of his neck. "Thank you for letting me know." 

"Aaron–" You laugh, the weight of your small secret finally lifted. "You just said thank you for my putting you in possibly the most awkward situation I could have when ten minutes ago you were giving me a hickey." 

"I think I'm old enough to do both." 

"All this focus on how old you are," you murmur, pressing your lips to his jaw. "You realise I barely think about it?" 

True and untrue. He doesn't feel any older than you when he's kissing you into a tizzy, but he's handled this conversation with immense and reassuring maturity. It is so, so nice to have been able to talk about your problem without shame or disgust in the mix, and nice, too, to know he isn't expecting supermodel perfection under your clothes. 

"I know you don't. It's hard not to think about sometimes, maybe you'll understand when you're older." He chuckles at his own joke as he pulls you close, leaning back in the couch cushions and encouraging you to rest the entirety of your weight on him. "Can I kiss you again?" 

You take his face into your hands and kiss him, careful not to jab his chest with your elbows as you grow closer, closer. It's easier to kiss him knowing that no matter what happens, he doesn't mind. He understands. 

"Thank you," you say against his lips. 

"Stop. It's the very least I'd do for you." He kisses the corner of your mouth, covers your hand on his face with his own. "And… let me be crass, but when you say sex, you don't mean every aspect, do you?" Your eyes close as he pulls your nose against his. "I meant what I said earlier, about making you feel good."  

You huff an amorous laugh, "Not every aspect, no… We can figure it out. Please?" 

"Let's make something very clear, honey. You don't have to say please to me. Not about this." 

It means the world to you that after everything, this mess of conversation and flirting alike, you can wrap your arms around him for a hug and be received like it's the one thing Aaron was waiting for. His arms slide behind your back, one hand curled against the curve of your waist and the other stretched broad between your shoulder blades. 

"If it makes you feel better, I have a mole shaped like Louisiana on my stomach," he mumbles. "I didn't know how to bring it up." 

It's not that funny, but paired with your adrenaline rush and the comfort of his arms, you burst out laughing. Aaron joins in with his high-pitched laugh, so unlike his usual dulcet tone, and that makes it worse. You laugh so much you almost forget what you were doing before. Then he touches the small of your back under your shirt, and you remember. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Too Close for Comfort 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, a grumpy man, age gap, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find a place to stay for the semester but your landlord is less than hospitable.

Characters: Joel Miller

Note: I said I'd get to Joel and I'm sorry to neglect everyone else lol.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The suburban sprawl awes you as you steer down the gentle curving avenues, taking in the trimmed hedges and the short picket fences. The neighbourhood is a stark contrast to the grim backstreets where you grew up. As you turn into the bright cul de sac, you can't help but wonder if you put the wrong address into the app.

The automated voice declares you've reached your destination just as you drive past the house from the posting. You hiss as you confirm the metal numbers mounted on the brick are the very same. You swerve into the nearest lot and reverse, forgetting to look as you do.

A loud honk has you slamming on the brakes as a large truck flashes its lights in your rearview. You give a sheepish wave and cringe, waiting for them to pull in. You sink down as you notice the bulky Chevy roll expertly into the lot  in front of the very house that distracted you.

You hold in a groan and back up, straightening the wheel and parking along the curb. A man drops heavily to his feet from the pick-up, slamming the door behind him. You wince and grip the steering wheel nervously. That must be the man you emailed.

Great first impression...

You open your car door to get out only to be trapped by your seat belt. You quickly click the button to release yourself and climb out of the car. You step up on the curb as the man scowls towards his front door, tramping up the cement walk between neatly groomed grass.

"Um, excuse me, Joel?" You call after him, "are you Joel Miller?"

He stops before the bottom step of the porch and pushes his head back with a growl. He turns to face you, agitation creased above his brows. You try to smile but your lips only tremble.

"Um, sorry to bother, I'm the one who messaged you. Er, about the room. You know, uh, online?" You wave your phone at him and his eyes dully focus on the gesture.

He crosses his arms. You shift your weight on your feet, not daring to break the threshold of his lawn. Right, you don't think this is going to work out. You should've known it was too good to be true.

"I'm sorry--"

"I'm Joel," he interrupts, "you're my one o'clock," he checks his watch, a brown leather band strapped around his thick tanned wrist, "you're early."

"I... yes, I am. I hate being late--"

"Doesn't matter," he dismisses tersely and twists on his heel.

He climbs the front steps of the two-storey house as you watch helplessly. His broad shoulders stretch the thin cotton of his tee shirt as he rolls his shoulders and keys in the code to the front door. You slump your shoulders, hooking your fingers in your pockets as you make to turn back.

"You wanna see the room?" He calls to you before you can retreat.

"Oh, uh, sure," you hop in place and quickly scurry up the wall, "er, that would be great."

You clatter up the steps, tripping over the last one. He stands by the door, staring at you dully as he holds it open for you. You show your teeth appeasingly as you approach.

"Take your shoes off," he points you inside.

You step onto the mat and bend to untie your sneakers. He enters after you with a sigh. You quickly sidle out of his way as he nearly bumps into you. You slide your shoes aside and stand as he thumbs off his boots.

"It's above the garage," he points to the east wall. That is east, right?

"Sure, uh, cool," you follow him past the staircase.

He leads you to a door just before the kitchen and opens it again. It occurs to you then, maybe too late, that he's a complete stranger and you've walked carelessly into his house. You look at him, trying to hide the flicker of doubt. It doesn't help that he doesn't smile. Actually, you're not sure if that would be any better. 

You go ahead of him and climb the stairs behind the door. You enter the room, fully furnished and relatively cozy. You're impressed. It's not much but enough to make do.

“Built in the bathroom,” he explains as he does to another doorway, “only half bath, you'll have to use downstairs for a shower. Kitchenette,” he goes to the counter mounted into the wall, “microwave, hot plate sink, guess you could get an electric kettle.”

You nod as you look around. It's not bad; a bed, a chair and footstool, a table against the wall with two wooden stools. Of all the places you've viewed, it's decent and it's close enough to school 

“I could… is that an offer?” You prompt.

“You got a job?” He asks.

“Sure, I work on campus between classes, and I have a grant,” you explain, “probably won't be here too much, just need somewhere to sleep.”

“Mm,” he rubs his chin, a hoarse bristle of brown and gray along his jaw. “Deposit?”

“Right, um, yeah, I got it. I could Venmo? Or paypal?”

“Cash,” he insists.

“Oh, uh, I don't have it on me,” you fumble with your phone, “but I can show you my balance.”

“Bring it tomorrow and the room is yours.”

“Really? Just like that?”

“Get the money in my hand and it's a deal,” he offers his hand, “you seem clean. You're a student. Better than the guy who tried to steal my silverware.”

“Uh, I won't do that,” you shake his hand and chuckle nervously.

“Mmm,” he growls and lets you go. “As long as you're quiet, I don't care what you do.”

“Oh, yeah,” you cover your mouth and lower your voice, “I'll do my best.”

He is unshakable. You're not the most charming character but you're harmless, most people realise that pretty quickly. You turn and continue to look around. 

You go to the window and pull the cord of the blinds. Only one side raises and you yank it again. You give an oop as you angle it and try to let it down. It's only making it worse.

He huffs and crosses the room. You back up and he snatches the cord, rolling it up easily. You mumble an apology and look out, peering down at the driveway.

“It's really nice,” you say, “you said you put it the bathroom yourself?”

“Built the whole room,” he grumbles as he backs up, scratching the back of his, “something to do…”

“Right,” you smile, impressed by his handiwork. “Well, I can get the money. When should I come back?”

“Ten,” he says, “and don't be early. Don't need you interrupting my coffee.”

“Yes, sir,” you confirm, “ten…” you set an alarm on your phone and add it to your calendar, “I'll be here.”

You peek up at him as he watches you with narrowed eyes. His expression is enough to see you off. You're going to scram before he rescinds his offer.

🏘️

The next day, you head out to deliver the deposit. You take a little longer than you expected at the bank. You didn't consider that taking out a large amount would raise alarm bells. 

With that sorted, you set off for your new home. This time, you park without issue, the Chevy truck unmoving in the driveway. You skip up the walk and take the steps two at a time. Your toe hits the top stair and you fly forward, colliding with the door.

You stand straight and laugh at yourself, reaching to knock on the door.

“Don't,” a disembodied voice warns.

You frown and look around. Your eyes catch the almost indiscernible lens above the doorbell. Oh, fancy.

The door swings open and Joel greets you over a gray blue mug. You stare at him awkwardly and teeter on your feet. Oh, yeah. You are here for a reason.

“Got it all here,” you proclaim as you loosen the drawstring on your purse, “counted it twice.”

He accepts it as he drinks from his mug, slurping down the last of the dregs. He clears his throat as he lowers the cup, “mm, great.”

“So, uh, not to be pushy,” you let your bag hang from your elbow, “when would I be able to… move in?”

His brown eyes bore into your very soul, “well… I guess whenever you need…”

“Great, because um, to be honest, it's really expensive to live on campus and my roommates are… messy,” you hesitate as you realise you're rambling, “not that that matters to you.”

“Just think of me like your landlord,” he grits, “don't bother me unless it's an emergency.”

“Got it,” you nod, “sorry, I'm excited. Oh, and I was wondering, am I allowed outside? Well, I don't mean, like, okay, is there a backyard?”

He nods stiffly. 

“Am I… can I uh, use it?”

He stares then shrugs, “I guess. Two rules, stay out of my room and stay out of the garage. You got your room, you'll have access to the common space within limits.”

“Uh huh, makes sense,” you hold out the envelope and he takes it. “Well, thanks, I really appreciate it. You know, it must be a good investment, a little apartment…” you clamp your lips and cringe, “okay, sorry, I'm going.”

He doesn't respond. As you turn, the door snaps shut and you nearly trip again. It'll be a bit tense but it's better than scraping the bottom of the barrel to pay rent and dealing with Kaya's late night antics. 

🏘️

You email Joel shortly after your last encounter. Restless, you're eager to be out of your overpriced and overcrowded dorm. You have most of your things ready to go. A single knapsack and a long duffle. 

He agrees to the day before the first. You're not the sort to complain. It's better than the alternative. Short of the grumpy overseer, you really found the perfect place.

When you arrive, Joel's truck isn't there. You try ringing the bell but don't get an answer. You didn't expect any different. You sit on the top step and wait, admiring the facade of the neighbouring houses and the autumnal russets littered across their yards.

You’re not early. Not that early. You thought he’d be around or maybe give you some direction on how to get inside. Technically, this is your home too now. You signed the electronic lease.

When he drives up, you stand, swaying as you try not to seem too jumpy. He sits in his truck, taking his time as he lingers inside. When he gets out, he is in no hurry. You smile as he approaches and chew your lower lip.

His graying hair looks fluffy and soft despite his demeanour. He wears a tee shirt under a canvas shirt.

“Hi, er, Joel, sir,” you greet, “I… think I got the right day.”

“Was getting a key cut,” he slips his hand into his back pocket, “the keypad can be finicky. This one’s for the back. Just in case.”

“Thanks,” you chirp as you accept the key, “that’s awesome.”

His dark eyes challenge your enthusiasm as they flick up.

“Sure,” he agrees flatly.

“I’ll get my bags,” you announce as you back up, giving him room to step past you.

He rumbles but doesn’t give a real response. You hop off the step, landing clumsily, and follow the path down to the sidewalk. You pop your trunk and pull out your duffle and knapsack. As you go to shut the trunk, you feel a tug on the handle of the duffle bag and you hold back a yipe as a rough hand brushes the side of yours.

Joel doesn’t say a word as you let him take the bag. He turns and stalks back up the lawn. You can’t tell if he’s being helpful or he just wants to lock you away so you're out of his way. You hurry after him, keys jingling loudly.

Your foot hits the step and you nearly stumble again. You catch yourself with a stomp on the next step and he pauses at the front door to glance back at you. You offer another meek smile. He opens the door, waiting on you as you steady yourself.

“Sorry.”

“Slow down, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

You give a nervous chuckle. He’s not laughing. You gulp and hook your knapsack on your shoulder before you continue inside. He might not be the nicest but at least you can be assured he can fix anything you break. Not that you’re intending on that… hopefully.

[koostarcandy]

ahh i got so caught up trying to remember the numbers for the prompts that i forgot to mention that 😭😭 could it possibly be with koo please <33

- 🦦

late night muse

pairing: idol!jungkook x fem!reader

summary: jungkook and you come to terms with the fact that you're his muse and you have to deal with his late night musings.

genre: fluff

wc: 1.0k words

a/n: fret not my lil wombat darling, i gotchu ;) hope this is upto to your expectations ^^3 the prompts are "why are you so pretty?" & "cuddling" & "short pecks" & "tickling the other one" as always, requests are open and pls follow the guidelines :]

"koo, no."

"koo, yes!"

you groan at the sudden lack of warmth, shooting a half hearted glare at your human heater. you thought you had done it all. fed him dinner (and dessert! his favourite cheesecake, of course.), set up his ps5 so he could play a few rounds and easily get to the top of the leader board, even let him go crazy for a few hours, singing his favourite songs till 1 a.m.

you thought that would tire him out on a friday night and dragged him to bed, the tune of 'memory of the wind' running in your head. you settle in and hug your favourite pillow (your boyfriend duh), head resting and breaths in tune with his lilting heartbeat.

it was when you had looked up at him to give him the customary goodnight kiss, that he remarked on you looking at him as if he hung all the stars in the sky. you place a tiny kiss on his jaw, shrugging and settling back down.

"the stars had fallen over time and you placed them back, it's only right i look at you like that."

his eyes lit up at your sleepy poetic self, mentally preparing himself to get away from you to jot down lyric ideas to match the melody he made in the afternoon. you've always voiced out that you find it weird (annoying but you love him too much to say that out loud) that he randomly gets inspiration at the dead of night, effectively stealing your precious sleep.

jungkook looks at your pouty face, instantly regretting getting away from you.

"oh, come here, my love," he pulls you to his lap, tucking your head under his chin. "why do you always get motivation at the devil's hour?" you whine, arms immediately wrapping around his strong torso.

"i don't know," he sighs, "why do you get all sentimental at 1.30, hmm?" nimble fingers, which you thought would wrap around your waist, find the ticklish spot instead. you try to resist the smile breaking out on your lips, looking at him with a, "do you really want to do this right now?" look. jungkook tucks himself into your neck, arms wrapped around you so tight like he's scared you'll disappear.

you take that opportunity in your hands, flipping him onto his back with all the strength you have left for the night. "ooh, my strong woman!" he remarks proudly, both of you knowing he could've stopped you anytime. you straddle his waist, hands slipping under his thin t-shirt. "should've known," you mumble, much to jungkook's confusion.

"should've known what?"

"you didn't take off your clothes before lying down. i should've known you'd get down to work."

he's always in awe of well you know him, too well. its reflected in his eyes, shining up at you with love. he chuckles at your slowly reddening cheeks, "come here, darling," pulling your neck down so he can place the sweetest and shortest kiss on your lips. you pout again, leaning down to give him another peck. and another. and another one, till your boyfriend is reduced to a mushy puddle of giggles and rosy cheeks.

his arms hold you in place, his slender hand sliding up to cup your face, "why are you so pretty?"

you smile, becoming akin to a blushy mess of a teenage girl. your smile grows, eyes turning into the prettiest crescents jungkook has ever seen. it fades when you realise his true intention. "nuh uh, koo," you fall on him, effectively trapping him.

"i'm not letting you out of this bed, baby. and you can try how much ever you want and also, don't bother doing the puppy eyes, koo. it won't work this time."

"hmm, google isn't helping. sorry, darling i don't know what rhymes with ethereal."

jungkook shrugs, hands linking with yours, which were previously flying over his keyboard. "its fine," he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, "tonight seems like a slow night but it's okay."

you shift yourself so you're facing him, still on his lap. his soft smile and eyes prompt you to snuggle into him, stifling a yawn while hiding your face in his neck. your stifled yawn and tired limbs wrapping around him makes jungkook realise this isn't your usual night. you're tucked in and faraway in dreamland by this time, either in the confines of your bedroom or in the sofa-turned-bed kept especially for you in the home studio. he ensures this is all done perfectly, even though a grumpy and sleepy you is adorable.

"let's go to bed, darling," jungkook coaxes, not knowing how you ended up in his studio. a blink of his pretty eyes, the ever-so-slight downturn of his lips and the lingering hands tracing your arms had him practically thrown out, followed by you pushing into the studio, telling him to, "get it over with already, you sneaky bribing fellow."

he picks you up effortlessly, ensuring your arms and legs are around him, taking you immediately to bed. you're half asleep by the time your head hits the soft, cloud-like pillow, hands instinctively reaching out for him. jungkook quickly discards his tshirt, nuzzling his face into your shoulder and arms wrapped around you tightly. your steady heartbeat almost lulls him to sleep when you say,

"koo? baby?"

"yes? do you want something, love?"

"hehe, how'd you know? i want to help you finish the song!"

jungkook chuckles at your unusual enthusiasm, arms rubbing your sides up and down, a tried, tested and foolproof method to get you to sleep within seconds.

"i'd rather deal with unfinished work than a snappy baby, okay? its sleepy time now."

"you think you're so funny-"

jungkook sighs, insincerely apologizing which comes to your attention, tickling him in his sensitive spots for revenge. he eventually gets you to calm down, slightly alarmed its almost 4.30 a.m now. he has you asleep within seconds, his own eyes growing heavy and tired. you grab his hand in your sleep, mumbling something about not letting the cutest bunny ever get away. he soon follows you to dreamland, dreaming of ethereal beings and bunnies.

pt time: @armys-dna ; @junsai-tree ; @soobhyun ; @shatzkrinslinzki ; @highly-functioning-mitochondria ; @taegisms ; @cherishoshi ; @fragmentof-indifference

[minminyoonjii]

Types Of Caregivers [OT8/Gender Neutral! Reader]

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🧡Stray Kids Scenarios Masterlist

🌹CW

Wholesome|Domestic Settings|Fluffy|Soft Reassurance Fic|Tooth Rotting Sweet

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 1.5K

Bang Chan [Title: Daddy]

He's father. He's strict, stern but dependable and comforting. He's the type of Cg! who would go through every single Caregiver/Little step-by-step before even starting with the relationship. "Little one, what did I say about leaving your toys everywhere, hm?" he said, raising his eyebrow. "I'm sorry, Daddy," you whined, digging your feet into the rug. Chan hummed, "I know, baby. Now, be a good little one and clean up after yourself, okay?" he says, kissing your forehead. You nodded, "Okay Daddy," you said, picking up your toys. "Aw, my sweet little one? Why are you crying? Tell Daddy what's wrong. You know you can always find me, yeah?" he whispers, rocking your sobbing figure. You sniffled, curling closer to Chan. "You're alright. It's safe baby, you're safe. No one is going to hurt you, not on my watch, yeah? Your daddy will protect you, that's a promise," he whispered, giving you a firm squeeze.

Lee Minho [Title: Mama]

Minho is the type of Cg! that finds joy in feeding you. He's also the Cg! who would bring up rules, punishments and rewards because he wants you to be safe. "Come down cupcake, I made your favourite breakfast!" he shouted from the bottom of the stairs. "Coming, Mama!" you shouted back, giggling. Minho chuckled, "Don't run down the stairs, watch your step," he said, watching you slow down and walk slowly. "That's my good cupcake," he cooed, cupping your cheeks. "Cupcake, you know what you've done wrong. Time out in the corner for 5 minutes, I'll put the timer right next to you so we don't accidentally forget. You can have your comfort plushie with you," he said, ruffling your hair. You sniffled, holding your plush close as you faced the wall. Minho frowned but he knew it was the right thing "Your Mommy made his famous brownies, you can have a few after your time out, okay?" he said, kissing your hair.

Seo Changbin [Title: Baba]

Changbin is that one Cg! that finds everything you do adorable and I mean everything. He's also the one that smothers you in cuddles no matter where you are. "Aigo, uri agi-ah so cute. Such a cute little menace," he cooed, carrying you away from Jisung's cowering figure. Jisung shuddered, "Hyung, they're holding Ikon's lightstick," he said, pointing at the bat. Changbin chuckled, "And they look absolutely precious," he said, taking the lightstick away from your grip. You whined but allowed it to get taken away "You're no fun, Baba," you mumbled, nuzzling his neck. Changbin smiled, "I know, agi," he said, kissing your cheek. "C'mere agi," he gruffed, pulling you close to his chest. "Hyung, they're eating," Jeongin said, holding a spoonful of porridge. "I know but look how puffy their cheeks become, I can't help it," Changbin chuckled, smothering your face in kisses. You whined, trying to squirm out of his hold to no avail. "You're stuck with me forever, agi-ah," he said, grinning at your squirms. "Mama!" you shouted and instantly Changbin released his hold.

Hwang Hyunjin [Title: Papa]

Hyunjin will be that Cg! that encourages any type of art you do. You're his little highness and he'll make sure it's known. Hyunjin gasped, "Oh my god, what's that lovely?" he asked, squatting next to you. "Tis a bird, papa," you said, showing him a picture covered in sparkly beads. Hyunjin chuckles "Wow! You're such a precious little artist, aren't you?" he said, rubbing your back. You nodded, wiggling happily "Is artist," you said, holding your picture close. Hyunjin chuckled, "The cutest little artist," he said, kissing your nose. "Spin for me, lovely," he said, watching you twirl in your puffy dress/slick suit. "I'm royalty!" you squealed, eyes sparkling at the gems glowing under the sunlight. Hyunjin lifted you up, "That's right, love. Our little highness," he cooed. You giggled, nuzzling your cheek against his. Hyunjin gasped, "Our highness nuzzled me, I'm so honoured," he said, rubbing his cheek on your skin. You laughed, squirming in his arms "Papa so silly," you said, placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Hyunjin smiled softly, "Only to you, lovely. Only to you," he said, holding you close.

Han Jisung [Title: Appa]

Playful Cg! Number One. Whatever game you have in mind, Jisung would be the one who makes it real. He's also dependable like Chan but in his own empathetic way. "Slow down, sweetheart," he chuckled, catching his breath. You giggled, "Hurry up, Appa. The lava is already rising," you squealed, curling up on the kitchen counter. Jisung screamed dramatically "Live on without me," he rasped, melting on the floor. You looked down, waving an invisible flag "You will be missed, Appa," you said, wiping your faux tears, Hyunjin gave Jisung a dirty look, sipping his coffee "It's too early for this," he mumbled, drawing giggles from you. Jisung noticed you sitting quietly at the corner of the sofa, "What's wrong, sweetheart?" he whispered, not sitting too close to you. You whined, rubbing your arms "Too much, Appa. Tis too much," you sniffled, feeling oversensory in your own clothes. Jisung frowned, "Can Appa carry you upstairs, sweetheart? Let Appa help you not feel icky anymore, hm?" he proposed, waiting for your response. "Yes please," you sniffled, curling up into his hold.

Lee Felix [Title: Mommy]

If you have anything you're not sure about yourself, Felix is that Cg! who'd reassure you. He's just a big sunshine to your little sunshine. "Mommy, am I pretty?" you whispered, cuddling closer to Felix. "Of course, you're pretty, sunshine. You're our gorgeous little one," Felix whispered back, kissing your hair. "Are the thoughts back, sunshine?" he asked, stroking your cheek. You nodded, leaning into his palm "I'm sorry, Mommy," you frowned, staring up at him. Felix's heart broke "Aww, sunbeam, don't be sorry, yeah? There's nothing to be sorry about. It's not your fault, none of it is, okay? Do you understand that?" he asked, tightening his hold around you. Felix grunted in surprise, wrapping his arms around your waist "What's got you so excited, sunshine?" he chuckled as you plopped on him. You smiled, "Mommy if I'm sunshine. What's Mommy?" you asked, tilting your head. Felix cooed, "Well you're my little sunshine, my sunbeam and I'm your big sunshine," he said, rubbing your hands. You furrowed your eyebrows, "What's the difference?" you asked, poking his palm. Felix chuckled, "Just think of me as a big blanket of warmth. You can come to me whenever your little light gets dampened," he explained, pressing his forehead against yours.

Kim Seungmin [Title: Dada]

Playful Cg! Number Two. Seungmin is protective. The chances of him punching someone in the jaw if they look at you wrong are decently high. He's also mean. He likes seeing you get mad, he finds it adorable. Seungmin wrapped his arm around you, "Stay close to me, munchkin," he said, side-eyeing the person staring at you. "Is something wrong, Dada?" you asked, holding your plush to your chest. Seungmin smiled, kissing your forehead, "Nothing is wrong, munchkin. Just wanted you close," he said, glaring at the person. You raised an eyebrow but nuzzled into his warmth. Seungmin chuckled, kissing the top of your head "Good munchkin," he mumbled. "Dada, give it back!" you whined, reaching for your plush. "It needs a wash, munchkin. Look at it, when was the last time it got washed?" Seungmin asked, bringing it to the washing machine. You puffed your cheeks, glaring at him "Dada, it's clean," you whined. Seungmin chuckled, pinching your cheek "It will be after being washed," he said, ruffling your hair. You crossed your arms, curling up against the sofa "Dada's a meanie, big meanie," you grumbled, furrowing your eyebrows. Seungmin smirked, rubbing between your eyebrows "Don't do that, munchkin. You're going to get wrinkles," he teased. Your eyes widened, "Daddy!" you yelled. "Seungmin!" Chan's voice boomed within the house.

Yang Jeongin [Title: Ninnin]

Playful Cg! Number Three. He's very good at taking care of you in baby space. The only person in the house that Chan, Minho and Changbin would trust to take care of you when they weren't home. "Innie, your little angel is here," Changbin cooed, rubbing your back. "Ninnin!" you squealed, reaching out to him. Jeongin chuckled, taking you from Changbin's arms "Hello, angel," he said, rubbing your stomach. "She's tethering between younger toddler and baby, be sure to be prepared for both, Iyen-ah," Minho said, handing Jeongin your baby bag. Jeongin nuzzled his face into your tummy, blowing raspberries "Got it, hyung," he said, kissing your nose. Your giggles echoed within the room, wiggling happily in Jeongin's hold. Chan chuckled, kissing Jeongin's forehead "We're not going to take long, prince. We'll be back before noon," he said, ruffling Jeongin's hair. You babbled, drooling around your teether. Jeongin cooed, wiping it away "Ah huh, and then what happened?" he asked, engaging with your babbles. You giggled, wiggling with your plush on your lap. Jeongin chuckled, nodding your head "What's got you all giggly, hm?" he asked, taking out your sippy cup. You chewed on the nib of the sippy cup, humming happily. Jeongin smiled, kissing your nose "You're so precious, angel," he whispered, stroking your cheek.

[donutwatches]

MHA 2.17 - Climax - part 1

This is my first watch of MHA, please don't spoil me!

My heart hurts for Iida. It feels like he has been lying in his own little blood puddle on the ground for 100 years.

Why is this the cutest thing? This show examines so many different ways to be a hero, and this might be one of my favorite takes so far. Someone who helps a lost kid find their parents is a hero. It reminds me of when All Might said heroes used to be volunteers.

Iida seems like the kind of kid who was just born 40 years old. This literal thinking contributes to his high sense of justice.

HEAD PATS! ADORABLE OVERLOAD! BIG BRO FEELS ALERT!

Iida needs his world to follow logical guidelines. He needs clear and literal rules. In this case, Stain is a villain who does bad, so the clear rule is that Stain needs to be punished. Tensei is a hero doing good, yet he is punished by a villain. Like a f'ed up opposite day.

Stain twists the rules upside down by being a villain who claims to be creating justice by harming heroes. Iida going to Hosu to confront Stain is his attempt to face the challenges Stain has created to his worldview (on top of more self-interested vengeance). There are pros and cons to Iida's unbending ideal of justice.

STRAIGHT FOR THE ARMPIT. If Stain puts another scratch on him I will reach through the screen and beat Stain up myself.

GET WRECKED! Kick the life out this turtle-looking weirdo! My hype levels for this episode shot through the roof.

He cares so much. He cannot let anything that hurts the people he cares about slide. That's what got him in this god awful situation to begin with.

And who made you the Judge, Juror, and Executioner, huh? Crawl back into the sewer where Master Splinter can deal with your Ninja Turtle reject ass.

Click here for part 2

Click here for the masterlist

[holylulusworld]

Looking for some recommendations by you or your kind followers 🥰

Steve or Bucky mafia / mob or abo series

And Henry Cavill series (I've fallen into a big rabbit hole of lusting over that man lol)

I've read all of your stories so much Lulu, like Consolidation Bride is like my number 1 series. I reread it often sometimes when I walk my dog or when I'm moody and on my period😂.

Hi lovely. Aw, I'm happy someone loves Consolation Bride as much as I do. I'm tempted to write a sequel, I just don't know when.

Let's see, I will list the blogs coming to my mind in random order. I hope I don't forget half of the people I follow...

I highly recommend @angrythingstarlight's blog for Mafia AUs. She has wonderful Mafia AUs for Bucky.

@navybrat817 has great stories for Bucky & Steve & Henry's characters. Check her Bucky list for Mafia stories.

@kinanabinks has an awesome Mafia Bucky x Best Friend (fairy) series. You can find it here: MOB!BUCKY MASTERLIST

@jtargaryen18 has a wonderful Mafia Steve / arranged marriage story called His Inheritance (ongoing). I got it on my reading list.

@sinner-as-saint has all your little heart desires, including mafia AUs, A/B/O and so much more.

@biteofcherry has great a/b/o & mafia stories for Steve. I think some are dark, so check the warnings for triggers.

@smutsonian has this mafia Steve I just discovered and need to read.

@buckyalpine has a story called pretty little thing with Mob Bucky. It's on my reading list.

You are looking for Henry & his roles? Fear not. Look at @littlefreya's blog. Here's her "stories" masterlist. There is a drabbles masterlist in her bio too.

Do you need more Henry? Here you go: @viking-raider will help you out.

@waiting4inspiration has an Alpha Bucky series.

These are the ones coming to my mind atm. If anyone has stories for nonnie to read, please feel free to add them to his post. 😊

[starlightswordfight]

rescue corps headcanons because I'm insane

(there are many)

– mirror pronouns pom

– that's all I got

– man!!

– Bernard started TALKING in this specific MANNER for the BIT years and years back and now he can't STOP he is STUCK someone HELP him

– he ALSO might be doing it to try to put EMPHASIS on the words he believes should have it and sometimes HE DOES not succeed

– he reads as ADHD coded to me but it might be because I also talk like that so take that with a grain of salt

– "HEY GIRL. I MEAN ANY PRONOUNS"

– Bernard had the most normal home life by far. No contest, won by default. I have a GREAT relationship with both of MY parents because they LOVE me

– he is incredibly observant. alarmingly so. will sometimes act out of the loop on purpose, if he thinks things would just be easier that way. accidentally learns everything about everyone, the guy's an information magnet and he doesn't know how to feel about that

– do you guys think Russ has made a spacesuit with the doc ock arms because I think he has and that he actively uses it on missions

– occasionally jumpscares people and giggles about it. he got the tendency to do this from his mother, who can smell fear

– while I doubt Russ would do things "for the bit" he would ABSOLUTELY act on impulse in the name of the scientific method. this has gotten him hurt before. it's fine

– does not make coffee he just eats the fucking grounds. "it's a Giyan thing, you wouldn't understand" this is not true at all he is LYING

– Russ and Yonny get into frequent arguments (light banter) about literally everything and I mean Everything. They could work together they'd be really powerful that way, but they don't

– Russ has so many genuinely funny science puns that he makes and no one ever gets them and it devastates him

– except for Yonny, who is too busy searching for ethics guideline loopholes to acknowledge that he understands the joke

– Yonny has the most HORRIFIC life stories and will drop them CASUALLY. thought they were funny, is only now beginning to realize that it does in fact make people concerned and uncomfortable when he does that

– prefers paper books to digital because he's prone to headaches!! cites "phone bad book good" as the official reason but that's not the reason

– nonbinary and evil. presentation tends to "default" as masc but switches up often! hey girl I mean any pronouns

– knows like a hundred million dead languages for absolutely no reason

– makes art in his spare time because murder is wrong

– Shepherd sleeps with a nightlight, or at the very least can't rest well in complete darkness!! she's just like me fr !!!!

– "she snores" thank you duncan for your contribution. honk shoe

– also I think she might be autistic I can't fully back that one up do not ask me to but look at her. she cares about dogs the way I care about fish

– prone to coming across the wrong way, tone wise. very very good at giving backhanded compliments that were meant to be fully sincere and just got horribly lost in translation. this keeps her up at night. she feels AWFUL

– big fan of karaoke!! not exactly GOOD at it but we love her initiative

– as afraid as she is of the pikmin, their voices and funny little words are very catchy and she does find herself repeating them often. she will not admit this. it is embarrassing

– Collin is also autistic. I could make an entire separate post on this I'm being so goddamn serious, I have so much reasoning, I am fully confident that he is, and that he masks REALLY hard, and it enormously fucked him up

– special interest in machinery (NO ONE saw THIS coming)

– transmasculine. his name is a pun on "call in." heard the phrase and realized he had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever

– we only hear about his grandfather, and not even from him; no other family is mentioned at all!! went no contact with like everybody else, above points might be why. people with normal childhoods don't stand like that

– adding onto the canon sleep talking with sleep movement! a LOT of it! has probably kicked someone before!!

– "he wakes up upside down" thank you duncan

– i think maybe Dingo might still have glow stick light up bones. will rediscover this one day during an expedition mishap and it will be an Experience

– not a hc but Dingo is the type of guy to get bit in a zombie apocalypse and not tell anyone until the literal last second

– "he would also say "fuck my stupid baka life"" thank you duncan

– would fight by rolling up his sleeves and jumping around cartoonishly. he would more likely talk like he's winning the fight when he is in fact actively losing. "had enough yet? (on the floor)"

– definitely games and he wins the competitive ones by button mashing. "I'll never tell you my strategy" he prays that's the strategy

– his sleep schedule is NOT normal. it's so beyond skewed. he either gets like 2 hours of sleep or he wakes up the following night not knowing what year it is

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here~

Tales the Songs Weave

Notes: Miguel is letting those barriers drop, ooohh. And the attraction is most certainly there.

CW: Sexual daydreams, Masturbation

Chapter 7: Even if It's For One Night

Word count: 4.1K

Nearly a week passed as you scoped out the door whenever you heard the chimes. 

You two maintained your everyday messaging, as you refrained from distressing him about stopping by, taking in what he told you.

Yet, a part of you still hoped he strolled through that door.

“I appreciate the donations, but not when there are so damn many of them!”

A woman a few years older than you stumbled out with an enormous box on both arms, her wild, wavy hair peeking out from the sides.

“Remind me to never take donations unless cash is involved.”

“A charitable donation is a charitable donation, Ronnie. Rather you like it or not.” You didn't look up from your phone as you giggled at something on the screen.

“Money is also seen as a charitable one! So make it easier for me.”

Ronnie peered over to her employee, whose head still refused to rise from the device.

“Who are you texting?”

“Take a guess.” You tilted a bit to acknowledge her.

“Ah yes. Him.” She teasingly piped.

Ronnie plopped the cardboard box of fabrics and other accessories on the counter.

“When will you tell me more about him?!”

“What is there more to say that I haven't already said, Ronnie?” You sighed and began to scoop out the cute clothes.

Rompers seem to be back in style.

“Uh, besides the name and that he's a ‘great guy,’ not much is being fed to me. I need the buffet, the nine-course meal!”

You gave her an impassive face. Your boss placed a hand on her forehead, dramatically but carefully, flopping her back on the check-out countertop.

“I'm practically starving. You're just letting me fade away. You dangle the sandwich, yet reel it back whenever I'm in reach!” She exaggerated, making sure to enunciate. Every. Single. Word.

“I thought you wanted a full thirty-course meal? Why did it get reduced to a sandwich?”

“Don't change the subject!" She stuck her tongue out. “And it was nine, but come on! Just tell me something. You always smile at your phone when you tell me you're texting the guy.”

She threw her arms up in a very animated manner.

“Ronnie, you'll survive.”

The woman grumbled and wrapped her arms around her chest like a pouting child who didn't get their way.

Then her face did a one-eighty.

“As your superior, I command you to tell me.”

“Oh for fuc- Ronnie, that's abuse of power! That's in the work guidelines for beginners!” Your hands slid down your face in pure agony.

“Nuh-uh! Um, um, obstruction of the peace!” Ronnie countered.

“I don't think you're even using that correctly.”

“Obstruction of the peace!” Ronnie's batty grin only disconcerted you more than before.

“Oh my gosh. He's tall, dark, and beautiful. There! Has the appetite been fed?” You began to dump the clothing back into the box, already exhausted from your "leader's” shenanigans.

“Hmm, let me think–no.” Ronnie frivolously perked her elbows up, her balled-up fingers smushing her cheeks. “Not until I see concrete proof. Hard evidence!”

You groaned, plucking the box off the wooden surface. “I swear you are just a handful. If you need me, I'll be in the back sorting clothes.”

“Aw, you're going to do that for me? You are so sweet! But don't think this conversation is over. We are jus-”

Before Ronnie could finish, you zipped off in the opposite direction, yelling that you were ‘too far away to hear the rest.’

You unleashed a lengthy exhale after that agonizing ordeal. You were aware that Ronnie didn't want to organize, so she found a cheeky escape route. And you couldn't criticize her curiosity. 

When the dead workdays pop up, you're usually on your phone texting him. Giggling like a schoolgirl who somehow was able to obtain their crush's number.

He manages to make your knees all jelly, so flimsy. The grasp he has you webbed in is ridiculous. How you're caught up in the bewitching netting. Is it wrong? Is this an inappropriate way to envision someone you're admiring? 

Spinning one into a web is usually viewed as distasteful, deceptive, and abysmal.

Sickening. Revolting.

Yet this web, like most, is silky and luscious. You don't seem to believe you're the prey–far from it. Restrained in the powerful strings is something that beckons you. What you seek.

Awaiting him, trusting him. Knowing that the mesh is used to protect. In a way that serves not only him but you as well. You don't sense any threats. No harm from him to you. You're confident about it. It's as if you fully know. Comprehending it in all of its certainty.

Besides, the only time you'll undoubtedly feel threatened, afraid is if you are bound, dangling exposed for him to take in every part. His claws and fangs grazed, scraping across your delicate skin, leaving tiny scratches all over.

His eyes locked on yours. Mouth gagged as you wouldn't be able to beg, but your body does it for you. His hands will grope every inch... his full lips kissing down so slowly, so hungrily until he reaches right in between your trembling, soaking thi-

You slapped yourself mentally and physically.

“Stop it, you pervert!” You quietly hissed and began to sort through the clothes, struggling to remove all those thoughts from your mind.

Pretending that the tingly sensation isn't sparking in-between said thighs. He shouldn't have this effect on you. But the state he put you in speaks otherwise.

Ronnie was skimming through a stack of books she's been purposely evading for the past week when she heard the hanging chimes near the front entrance jingle.

“Oh goody. A person.” She mumbled in a snarky tone before putting on her half-assed customer service voice.

“Hi there. Welcome to Adequate Antique Aaa–Abs-o-licious!”

Ronnie was fully astonished by the colossal, hunky model of a man standing in her tiny shop.

She continued to stare as Miguel stood there uneasy, his eyes covered, but the expression was undoubtedly frigid. 

Soft rock played on the overhead speaker as the gawking from Ronnie lasted another thirty seconds until Miguel cleared his throat, breaking that unwarranted silence.

“Oh! Right! How may I help you, my good sir? Anything you have particularly in mind? You're also very, very welcome to peruse our many, many trinkets.” Ronnie shoved the books aside. An overly flirtatious grin crossed her lips, her eyebrows bouncing up and down.

“I'm looking for somebody who works here. They should be in today.” Miguel's stoicism refused to leave.

Ronnie's attempted wooing fled as she scrunched her face at him. “Someone who works here–oh. Oh! You're tall, dark, and beautiful!”

Miguel was taken aback by the sudden exclamation.

“Tall, dark, and beauti-”

She interrupted Miguel before he could even question what she could possibly imply by that.

“Yeah! No, I'll go get her for you!”

Miguel was blurred by the woman and the situation as a whole.

“I can go look for her–”

“I have someone up here to see you!”

Miguel slightly flinched as Ronnie shouted and whacked both her hands on the hardwood counter before turning her attention back onto him.

“She'll be up here soon.” Ronnie beamed at the even more exhausted Miguel.

A few seconds passed when a new voice emerged from the side.

“Why bother giving me this beeper if you're never going to use- oh! This is a very pleasant surprise.”

You internally screeched and flipped around. A smile spread across your face as you took a few steps toward him. He was actually here. 

Miguel softened. His body unwinded as he warmly gazed down at you. “I managed to sneak in some free time and wanted to take a peek at the store myself.”

“I'm so glad you stopped by. You okay? They didn't harass you about this, did they?”

Miguel's stomach had those metaphorical butterflies floating endlessly. His own smile forming over your worries.

“Ah, no, not as much.” He had to lie. He didn't want you fretting over him.

“Good. That's good. I'm glad they're easing up on you.”

You didn't mean to come off as nosy. It was a sudden switch for you. A new defensive mode whenever something was visibly agitating or troubling him.

The sensations he brings.

Ronnie darted between the two, seemingly drifting into each other's eyes. Even if Miguel was wearing sunglasses, Ronnie knew what was up. Coughing loudly to break the ogling, you both jumped back as Miguel scratched his head, and you turned your attention to your employer.

“Sooo, are you going to introduce me?”

You puffed some air out, disregarding Ronnie's shit-eating grin.

“Ronnie, this is Miguel. Miguel, this is my boss, Ronnie.”

“Hm, so this is the famous Ronnie I've heard about.”

“Gasp! I'm actually talked about outside of work? I knew you secretly adored me!”

You groaned as the humiliation settled almost instantaneously. Miguel just offered half a smile before dropping it a second later. He honestly didn't know how to react.

“And I prefer infamous!” Ronnie pumped her chest with way too much pride.

“You do know infamous isn't a good thing.”

You tried to clarify, but Ronnie bolted to the next thing.

“And Miguel. My my, aren't you a gorgeous man? Girl, you didn't tell me he also had an inviting, buttery voice.”

Your right eye twitched. Miguel tensed from this encounter.

“Actually, she didn't tell me much about you besides your name and that ‘you're one great guy.’” She indiscreetly winked, as you were ready to slam your head down on the counter. Maybe hard enough for a concussion.

“But I do know how happy she gets whenever she's talking to you. I swear her face lights up with this adorable twinkle when her Migg-”

“Okay, that's enough!” You stumble your body in between Miguel and the timber furniture.

Miguel and Ronnie stared anxiously at your sudden outburst. The music continued to whisk over them for a couple of seconds until you gulped audibly.

“I didn't mean to yell. That shouldn't have come out like that. I'm sorry, Ronnie.”

She waved her hand dismissively.

“Nah, it's all good. Go ahead and take your break. I'll finish up your tasks. And hey, it was nice meeting you, Miguel. Take care of my girl.”

Miguel blushed before bobbing his head. “Of course. Nice meeting you as well.”

You scampered to grab your things as the two headed out. You called out a goodbye to Ronnie and went to enjoy this time.

You both decided to head on over to an Asian street food restaurant. Thankfully, it was slow, as only three people preoccupied the other tables.

“Have you ever been here before?” You scrolled down the digital menu, figuring out what you wanted.

“No. I don't think I've even ventured this far out of work.” Miguel observed the area, taking note of all the different Asian cultures plastered on the walls. 

“How far is your job from here?”

“It’s about a thirty-five, forty-minute walk.” 

You began calculating the distance from there. “So around two miles? Twenty minutes is equal to a mile, right?”

He nodded. “But I bought it down to ten. I'm sure you can figure out how.”

You blinked until it hit you. “Ah yes, you swung on by.”

Miguel shot you a disappointed glance as you goofily grinned. “Are you sure you aren't secretly a spider person?”

“I don't have that terrifyingly stellar intelligence.” You lightly tapped your noggin. 

Eventually, you two ordered, plunging into that soothing silence. The warmth he cascades upon you has your stomach in knots. You squeeze your legs together, trying to furiously distract your mind from something else. 

Then Miguel took a sip of his water, some dribbling down the side of his mouth. You squeaked as your subconscious pried its way through, wanting those certain thoughts to emerge. 

“I remember you telling me that you have sensitive eyes. Is that why you wear sunglasses even indoors?” You locked those feelings back. 

“Si. That, and I don't think many would find my eyes appealing to gaze into. Why I've been called ‘vampire’ so much. ¡Esa mierda se vuelve tan molesta! ¡No sé por qué sienten la necesidad de bur-”

“Your eyes are appealing to me. They are very breathtaking. Like staring into two dazzling rubies.”

He reclined back in the seat as the compliment caught him completely off guard. He can't remember the last time a flattering remark was made. Maybe as a joke, or when Peter bizarrely proclaimed he has ‘very ravishing red orbs,’ but not genuine praise.

You purse your lips, chastising yourself secretly for even blurting out something like that. 

“I-I'm sorry. I should've been more mindful of what I said.”

He removed his glasses and placed them on the table.

A string snapped.

You glimpsed at the shades, then back at him, before a smile took over. You leaned forward as you both got lost in each other's words. 

The food was steaming hot, emitting heavenly scents of herbs and spices. Mouth-watering, you promptly begin to chow down, humming in satisfaction.

“Always the best to come when no one is barely around.” You declared, stuffed with a mouthful of udon.

“No need to rush. They're able to be precise with the cooking.” He mindfully slurps some of his miso soup and sighs out.

“Mhm!” You gladly agreed, gulping down the tasty noodles.

“Oh! I was meaning to ask. Are they finally used to you taking well-deserved breaks? They must be if you took an afternoon one versus your usual night ones.” You held your bowl of udon up, offering some to him before he politely declined.

“Yeah. I told them I needed to pick up a few pieces for this upcoming project I'm working on, and they were fine with it.” He took a swig of his condensed glass of water. 

Lies. Miguel recollected the events that led up to this spontaneous outing.

He was already seething when an anomaly nearly threatened to disrupt a canon event due to ridiculously cocky rookies who took the situation too carelessly. He doesn't enjoy shelling out verbal lashings. In fact, he can't stand them. But if others refuse to understand the dire conditions they're in, then it's the only means necessary to get the point across. 

And on top of that mess, he still wasn't at the shop. Every time he would pluck up the effort to go, he would repeatedly hinder his opportunities. 

Internal excuses after excuses. If he's not present, disarray will happen. If he's not here, who will scrutinize the multiverse? Who will conduct sweep checks to make sure the technology is in proper working order? There was too much on his plate, and each day he wasn't there, the more his temper was easier to set off. 

But a few hours earlier, something possessed him as he requested Jess and Peter B. to come to his office.

“The other day, I stumbled upon an ample amount of curios I exactly needed for this new project I'm undertaking.” Miguel's back turned as he searched, trying to remember the name of the store. 

“So you need one of us to pick up the par-”

“No! You two will stay here and keep an eye on things.” He hissed as Jess folded her arms over her prominent, protruding belly. 

She decided to let that rude, interrupting outburst slide. For now.

“Miguel, are you okay? You've been seeming more, um, what's the word I'm looking for?”

“More of an ass?” 

Miguel scowled at Jess as she held that unshakable glare whenever he got this way. 

“Uh, no, not necessarily that. More piqued, disgruntled! Yeah, that's it!” Peter patted where the sling for Mayday usually was. 

“Look. I'll be gone for about a couple of hours and then back with the goobers.”

Peter was perfectly fine with that response, but Jess's skeptical eyes and frown practically dug into his skull; however, she opted to take his word with a pinch of salt. 

The accumulated goggles of spider-people ticked Miguel off as the murmurs of their superior, nonchalantly walking out of the lobby, was going to be next the buzzing topic.

Though it didn't matter, as far as he was concerned, getting to you was his main priority. 

“Miguel? You okay?” You rested your hand on his, which would dwarf yours, as concern registered all over your face. 

“What?” He rocked a bit, skimming the area, before his awareness landed on you.

“You seemed lost in thought for a good while. I thought it was because you were enjoying the food so much that I decided to let you be. But it started to scare me when you wouldn't answer after five minutes.”

He peeked at the table that lay nearly empty dishes. Did he become so absent-minded that he managed to finish his entire meal without uttering a single word to you?

And yet, you remained poised, uncomplaining. 

“Here, let's get back to the antique shop. The lunch rush hour is starting to pick up.” You whirled around, minding the influx of hungry customers piling in. 

You paid for his meal and yours as Miguel tried to intervene, but you heavily insisted. In a battle he wasn't winning, he let you be.

Jostling out and heading back, you made small conversation. You were still quite concerned, wondering what was dwelling in his mind. 

“Did you enjoy the meal?” You swayed your arms back and forth in no particular rhythm.

“Yes, it was delicious; the flavors blended well. And I will pay you back for my half.”

“You don't have to! It was my pleasure to-”

“I insist. Tell me the cost, and I will pay you back for it.” He instructed more than asked.

A surge rushed through your veins and directly to your lower region. “I-I will think of something instead.”

“Good gi- good. That's fine, just let me know.” He caught himself before that inappropriate comment slipped. He didn't know what seized his mind to nearly exclaim that. 

You didn't catch it. He thanked the universe, as he would never forgive himself if you did hear that disgusting phrase from him. 

The remainder of the stroll was mute until returning to the shop. Ronnie fanatically welcomed you both back, questioning and teasing about the outing.

“Did you enjoy yourselves? I know I sure would if I were by this godly, glorious man!” 

Reprimanding her, you swiped up Miguel's forearm, leading him away as Ronnie cheekily yelled not to destroy her things.

“Don't get too handsy, if you catch my drift!”

Ultimately overlooking that, you and Miguel browsed the many knickknacks and ornaments encompassing every cranny. Miguel was in awe of the countless artifacts and objects. 

Though it didn't beat the liveliness from you as you described the items, elucidating the sea of stories behind a chunk of the goods.

He got lost in your love for this.

How you're able to enjoy the simplest things in life. How you manage to discover the inner beauty and soul in things, no matter how dented or defaced they appear. How you make it look so easy. Yet, how would you react to the heinous crimes he committed? Would you still find that same beauty and soul in him? No, clearly not. 

He convinced himself otherwise.

Plucking an electronic gizmo from a stand, you brought it up to his face when you noticed him wearily zoning out. There was something draining him, and your instincts to alleviate it kicked in.

“Miguel, do you think this piece will help with the project you're working on?”

He inched his head down to see a gear with a tiny motherboard covering the surface.

A crooked smile tugged from him as fingers curled around the miniscule tool, brushing against your palm. “Yes, this will be fine. Thank you.” 

That electrical touch he gives never fails to give you shivers.

That softness you hold never fails to bring him to his knees. 

“I know how you can pay me back.” You shifted through some bins in search of more gear for him. 

“Oh, and how is that?”

“There's a botanical garden near here, and I pass by it every time but never get the chance to go as I use my off days to rest up.”

“So, like a hangout or a date?” Miguel rummaged in the bins with you.

“Whatever you want it to be.” You grinned, carefully headbutting your head on his bicep.

His breath hitched, cheeks heating, as his stomach began to twist. He shouldn't. He shouldn't. 

“Deal then.”

A string broke.

That joy never wavered from either one. 

“Oh, and by the way.” Miguel pulled himself out of a trance. 

“Hm?”

“Tall, dark, and beautiful?”

“...Ronnie!” You jerked yourself to your feet and began to admonish your guilty leader, as Miguel held in his laughter. 

Saying his farewells with a container stuffed with gadgets that he'll cram somewhere to find uses for them later, a hunger bellowed within. His thoughts were rampant. Never ceasing. Not even the rosy pink and sunset orange skies wouldn't sedate his brain from going back to you. 

A date… no, you are only hanging out. That's it. 

He doesn't imagine the bright smile you'll have as you stroll by an array of flowers. Or how beautiful the hues from them and the sun will bring out your skin tone. Or what adorable outfit you'll choose to wear. Or what you will chat about…

He doesn't think about you lying on the ground, hidden from the public eye, enclosed by Mother Nature's blossoming fluorescence. Your stunning legs folded around his waist, nails dragging down his back as he strenuously thrusts into you when he–

A sudden thunderous clap roared from above, knocking him back to reality. To Miguel, the dark clouds arose to freeze that line of lust. Miguel closed his eyes. You mustn't have them as well. It was only his sick, perverted imagination going in that direction. 

He decided to just dawdle the rest of the way back, even if the rain caught him. He'll deal with the plethora of complaints from Jess later. Right now, he craves that alone time.

Halfway there, Miguel eventually accepted that you would never cross the path he chose. Especially for a man like him. And he wouldn't blame you one bit... 

You grasped your pillow for dear life as a finger plunged deep within your folds.

“Mi-Miguel! Deeper!”

Your faint whimpers were drowned out by the thunder. You leaked on your fresh, crisp sheets. Just as the nightly rain drips, so do you.

“Don't stop; please never stop! Oh Miguel!”

You gasped out his name. It felt so sinful on your tongue, yet flowed out like smooth, red wine.

Adding another finger, your eyes rolled in the back of your skull. The only thing that plagued, no, graced your mind was the thought of his long digits pumping into you.

The more you imagined, the more your pointer and middle fingers slipped in and out in rapid succession. Your velvety, wet walls clenching so nicely.

Could you take him? Will you feel every part? Every throb, every vein? How warm would it be? Cozy? Or burning due to the desires you'll both share?

You whined in sync with the roaring bolt. You shouldn't be doing this. You shouldn't.

But you couldn't stop.

Unbeknownst to you, in the middle of the city, in the middle of it all, a grunt sprang out in his own room, the walls concealing his impurity.

“Yes, just like that. You're such a good girl.”

Miguel lay spread on his mattress as he vigorously pumped up and down. His unrestrained clawed hand moving at speeds that no human will ever be able to keep up with.

Veins coursed all over his girth, no matter which angle one peeked at. He was burning, his length on fire. 

He squeezed, emitting another grunt. Globs of precum ran down as he tugged brutally and madly. He imagined it was you riding him for dear life.

“Montas a papi tan bien, bebita.”

He groaned as rumbles from the sky joined in. His mind crossed you with every jerk.

How tight would you be? Would he be able to force every inch? He would make it work. He wants to mold you just for him, that you can take it all.

Will you spill over as he thrusts into you at a swift pace? Squirting out all over his tongue or cock?

He growled as his imagination ran feral. His palm slapping against his balls, propelling his hips at irregular tempos. He hears the rain violently drumming against his window, overlooking the ones who look up. 

Yet, the only thing he wants to gaze down upon are those pretty lips wrapped around him. Looking up at him.

Looking up with lust and love. Genuine love.

The downpour can cover his wrongs, but it won't matter. His thoughts for you will fall from him.

He could not stop. He knew he could've.

Yet he should have. He knows he shouldn't stop. The flames spread, shining more within the concealed darkness.

Ch.6<< >>Ch.8

[leonenjoyer69]

I really love your art and your artstyle!!! I'm trying to learn to draw and I'm struggling to find a way to draw faces and especially eyes that I like, could you maybe share some tips on how you draw faces because omg I am so in awe of how cool your art looks! :D

FKEKVKKEKD OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥺🥺 I'M SO HONORED

Honestly, the best advice I can give is to study tf out of art styles you like, bc that's exactly what I did with TGS. The amount of pages I just stared at and tried to lowkey memorize is ungodly, and once I started drawing the characters and trying to emulate sage's style, I kinda just kept getting better from there. My ability to draw poses and full body stuff also got exponentially better VERY quickly, TGS is just magic like that, I swear.

Also, for eyes specifically, referencing each characters eyes and testing different expressions is kinda the way to go. I use my physical copy of Vol 1 a LOT for referencing (especially for Hyde and Lanyon)

(A LOT more under the cut lmao)

Also, just drawing headshots of the characters over and over helps too, especially in pen! I have literal DOZENS of random 5- 10 minute pen doodles. The nice thing about the pen stuff is that, yeah, youll mess up a lot and not be super satisfied with most of them, but it forces you to be a bit more careful about how you place things and steadier with you hand, at least in my experience.

(The sillies)

See? Most of them really suck, but they made me pay a lot more attention to what I was doing and what I wanted to do. It also helped me grasp quirks of the characters and drawing expressions a lot better. Plus, this isn't even all of them, I've got a bunch more in a little envelope I made.

Also, looking on Pinterest for pose references probably would also help, or taking pics of yourself for reference, but I'm built different (stubborn and lazy) so I rawdog my anatomy and poses 🗣️🗣️

Otherwise, I can also give a little doodle example with Whole Jekyll on how I currently draw in pencil and such :3

Start with circle, then give it a nice center line and chin

Then I throw in the neck and shoulders (which tend to change a decent bit bc anatomy is hard), the eye line, which goes through the middle of the circle, and then I like to do a line down the chest to figure out which way I want him pointing, since he's at a tilt. I also change this quite often, along with where I want the face pointing lmao. Once I've figured out direction, I draw the nose starting at the bottom of the circle and up to the eye line. I also then draw the top of the eyes first. The eye line (and apparently the center line 💀) is of course a suggestion, and I tend to mess around with the eye shape until it looks mostly right.

Then the bottoms of the eyes and the pupils get thrown in, which I have to redraw pretty often to try and make them match better. I also usually leave the eyes blank bc I'm lazy af and can't draw pupils too well, I will shade them tho and that makes them look better.

Then bbg gets ears (which I usually start around the corners of the eyes and go down to just above the little curve of the jaw), eyebrows (also just mess around with these til they look right) and a mouth (I HATE drawing mouths 😋😋), then they get their hair (also have to redraw a bunch)

Also, to show Whole Jekylls other eye, I pinned his hair back, so there's a treat, Whole Jekyll enjoyers <3 bbg can fully see 😍 (Mind Lanyon probably forced him too)

Then I shade his eyes, give him clothes and fix up any quick things that were bothering me (in this his nose) and go back with the edge of a rectangle eraser and get those guidelines and extra lines out (sometimes they're still a little visible, but maybe just don't draw them as heavy handed as I do 💀) and Bada Bing Bada boom! Doodle done :3 of course its not the best, but it doesn't have to be, thats the joy of doodles

Heres another good pic to kinda show how I use my guidelines (and how messy my doodles usually are, it's part of my charm guys, I swear--)

Otherwise like, my progress shots for drawings look goofy af lmao, like--

Messy af, incorrect proportions, wrong anatomy, eugh. just takes time (and a lot of redrawing) to get to the final pieces.

But yeah!!! Eyes are annoying, it just takes a lot of tweaking and repetition.

Like, I redrew some of these eyes a decent few times and some of them are still off, like cmon Lanyon, why you gotta be so hard for me to draw 💔

Anyways!!! Thats probably the best I can offer right this second lmao, sometimes I kinda wish I could record drawing and stuff but I don't do stuff purely digital often enough to. I do have a full speed paint for that drawing of Jekyll in Hydes mind clothes tho, so idk maybe I'll share that if anyone wants me to lmao.

But yeah! Thank you so much for the ask and the kind words, I hope this helps! or is at least entertaining lmao

[lilmashae]

jungwon x reader | smut, so 18+

jungwon can be so dramatic sometimes — especially when he's feeling jealous.

"i'll be back, pretty, okay?" not too long ago he'd excused himself in hopes of finding the bathroom. however, upon his return, jungwon wasn't overjoyed seeing you talking to someone else — someone else, that wasn't him. it didn't help that you were nodding and smiling along with the stranger.

his eyes won't leave you, not even for a second. jungwon stands in the corner of the exhibit, chewing on his bottom lip.

"oh, 'wonie!" you waved him over, "baby, come here!"

"hey," jungwon exhaled, his hands immediately found your waist. "who's this?" you looked at the stranger and then up at your boyfriend, "he's friends with the artist. cool, right?" he was quiet for a couple of seconds, hesitantly he replied, "yeah, cool..."

jungwon's voice remained hushed for the rest of the night — of course you'd noticed his sulking. he was much more interested in whatever you were sating earlier on, now, jungwon'd just nod and stare at you, blinking.

" 'wonie, s'something bothering you?"

"baby... you like me, right?"

"jungwon," you deadpanned — "i love you. what's going on?"

he'd tell you, explaining how "you were smiling at that stranger." he's so cute, all worried. you couldn't help giggling, "are you laughing at me?" his eyes were wide, unsure if this was a good thing. "you're so cute, 'wonie." leaning over the (car) seat, you give him a chaste-kiss. "let's go home... 'show you h'much i love you, baby."

when you and jungwon arrive home you're sure to kiss him before falling to your knees, and palming his bulge through his pants.

"p-please, y/n... don't tease me." a breathy sigh escaped his lips. "okay, baby..." you unzipped his pants, pulling them down along with his briefs. jungwon's cock sprung free, his cute, puffy tip drooling in front of you. you placed a kiss on his tip, giving the surrounding area kitten licks and wet kisses. "ah! c'mon, pretty."

"you're so impatient, 'wonie. " smearing the precum on your lips, you fully wrapped your mouth around his cock — "mouth's so warm, shit..." he hissed, jungwon's finger found themselves tangled in your hair. you swirled your tongue around his dick, one hand jerking off the base of his cock while the other cups and kneads his balls. "s'so good, sweet girl... fuck! s'good."

you hummed, the vibrations travel through his cock, ripping a sweet moan from his lips as you continue sucking him off. you gagged, feeling him push you further back onto his cock. spit and slick coated your chin and the base of his cock. the knot in jungwon's stomach wound itself tightly before snapping into two. "fuck!" he pulled you off of his dick, spurting thick ropes of sticky, hot cum on your cleavage. "aw, baby... i liked this shirt."

bonus round !

jungwon repays the favor by fingering you. his long, slender fingers work and stretch your cunt so well. it's not only for your pleasure, he'll whimper above you, "s'so wet... tight little pussy's creaming 'n taking my fingers so good..." his fingers scissor and curl inside of you, kissing your g-spot perfectly. he loves making you cum all over his fingers so he can suck them clean — extra points if you squirt everywhere.

guidelines and disclaimers ! missed you guys ! mama's back from hiatus, happy to be here 🩷 😋

[luveline]

ooooo I love bodyguard james your last one was so cute! how about ‘seeing you happy is all that matters’ where there’s a new trainee/less experienced bodyguard on shift and he’s kinda controlling and strict and not as kind as james and when james gets back on shift she’s upset and explains the situation to him and he tells her he’ll fix it ❤️

luveline's valentine's mini party ♥︎

thank you for your request! bodyguard!james x fem!reader 1k

You eat your dinner in silence. You miss James so much in that moment, you swear to be better and do better by him — you'll be kinder, sweeter, better behaved. No more whining about his timetables. You'll ask him about rugby more, and you'll sneak him double the amount of sweets. 

"Are you ready to go back to your room?" 

"Not really, Tucker," you say, at the end of your rope. He's been domineering and grumpy all day.

"You're not eating." 

You hold your fork so tightly you swear it creaks in your grasp. Tucker's standing way closer than he needs to be, and his expression pisses you off. 

"I respect your position in my security team, but this is my house," you say. "I could cut this meal into a thousand tiny pieces and eat every single one of them one at a time and you'd have to stand there and watch." 

You end up back in your room. 

It's hours and hours later when James finally clocks on for the night shift. With your night guard, Jack, on paternity leave, James has been forced to fill the longer shift and take on a newer recruit. Newer, but not new. You've met Tucker before, have seen him at meetings, even, but you'd had no clue how unkind he was until today. 

"Hey, angel," James says, knocking your door. "It's shift change. Can I come and say hello?" 

You bury your head under your pillow. You don't want to see James: you're embarrassed by how you'd acted in the dining room. He probably knows by now what you'd said, or at least that there'd been some security manoeuvre to land you back in your room. 

"Angel? You know I have to come in and check anyway. I would prefer it if you gave me permission." 

You groan and kick out of bed, naked legs sliding over silk sheets. You trudge barefoot through thick carpeting, leaving dips like footprints in thick snow. The door cracks open as you reach it. 

"Hey, pretty girl," James says softly. He looks you up and down, concern pulling at his eyebrows, tugging them together. "You don't look very happy. You didn't like the new guy?" 

His guess is accurate, and for some reason his asking tops you off. You're not used to being treated the way you have been today, maybe that makes you spoiled, and you'd felt alone and, worse, stripped of autonomy. You don't like being demanded from one place to another. You don't like being talked down on for who you are. You know you're privileged to be in your family and to have wealth, to be important enough to need protection, but you can't fight the wave of emotion pinning you. You'd felt so trapped, so undermined, so useless. 

You look down at your socks and sniffle. 

"Hey," James says, pushing into your room and closing the door behind him, "hey, hey. What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying," you lie wetly, wiping your cheek before a tear can fall. 

"Angel…" James' hand hesitates by your shoulder. "Can I hug you?" 

You want to say no, but of course you don't. You crave his comfort, need it, and his arms around your shoulders pop the seal. You press your lips together and cry in silence, fat and racing tears that drip down your chin. 

"What's the matter?" he asks softly. 

You tell him everything.

"I'm sorry, I was so awful," you say. 

"No, no, you weren't awful, you stood up for yourself, that's exactly what I want you to do. He has no right to force you, angel, the timetable is a guideline, and it's yours to amend. You're the one in charge in this house. This is your house."

"That's what I said," you say miserably. 

He pushes you away and squeezes the tops of your arms. "You were right. You don't have to apologise, to me or anyone else. I'll have a word with him, and I'll make sure he knows that you make the decisions here. He's here to keep you safe, nothing else." 

"I don't want him to be my friend if he doesn't want that, I just don't like how mean he was." 

James shakes his head, his arms falling away from you.

"I promise, I thought I explained it to him. I'm so sorry. This never should've happened." 

His apology isn't one you want. It sobers you up. You breathe in a hard breath and take a step back, your skin too hot. 

"Jamie, don't be sorry." 

"No, I am. Here, at home, seeing you happy is all that matters. The only time you should be bossed around is when your safety's in question." 

You rub your damp cheeks with your cardigan sleeve. 

You smile. It's no coincidence that every word he says raises your spirits, James is like a happy drug, and he always fixes your mood.

"You boss me around all the time," you joke, trying to cheer up.

"I make gentle suggestions." 

"You don't let me stay up past two."

James huffs. "Tell me how you're supposed to outrun an assailant on five hours sleep and I'll let you stay up as late as you like." 

You look away from him, but you aren't surprised when he pulls you in for another hug. "S'what I thought," he says, his cheek resting against the side of your head. "Don't worry about Tucker, okay? I'll sort him right out." 

You've only been on the receiving end of James' anger a handful of times, only ever when you've endangered yourself. Though you can't admit to liking Tucker very much after his behaviour today, you feel sorry for him. Angry James is scary, even if he's really fit. 

[zzoguri]

on the drive home ➵ ji changmin

the three times changmin thought you two would be okay, and the one drive home that made him realize he was wrong.

requested by @vernyangel for the song "on the drive home" by niki

genre/warnings ➵ angst no happy ending, established relationship, afab reader (no-gendered terms), lowercase intended, reader is shitty but changmin still excuses their actions, jiwoo is chuu btw, chanhee is the best friend who knocks sense into changmin, sadly no proper conversation about the problem happens

word count ➵ 2.6k words

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu

a/n ➵ took me a bit to really pump this out :') spent so long just looping this song to really get my thoughts out. i hope you enjoy this @vernyangel! thank you for always supporting me bff </3 i hope this does justice to your request, and i hope i can do well in your other one as well. please don't forget to reblog (even if it's in your tbr!)

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! want to request? check out my guidelines! masterlist

it’s a slurry of orange and red hues that cascade all over town. the buildings are only but a blur of figures that fill the windshield, and the pavements do not hold a living soul. with the windows rolled down, warm tones fill the car, the faux leather seems to glow, and the hands on the steering wheel reflect the shades of the city. 

anything but silence fills the car; the melodies from the radio are low, and the whispers of the wind hit against eardrums. but these sounds are not enough to break the tension between changmin and you.

he doesn’t bother to talk like all the other drives back home. for once, it’s quiet on his end. he does not bother to admire the hues of the sky, and he decides against commenting on the songs from your playlist. instead, he looks at you all while your eyes are trained on the road.

he leans back in his chair, head pointed to you, and takes in the sight. the hazy buildings along with the sun setting are only a background made for you, and shades of orange make your skin glow. to him, you still look like the same person he first knew—the one who transformed the meaning of home—but now, you are nothing like the one he fell in love with.

a disheveled maze, constellated and intertwined, but somehow, my favorite kind

the sounds emitting from your speaker bounce on the four walls, filling your room with the sweet harmonies of niki accompanied by plucked guitar strings. the lamp shines over sprawled notes written in handwriting only you can decipher. all while you work, changmin is lying down on your bed. his hums come and go, his attention being divided to whatever he comes up on his phone.

the familiar strumming of a guitar plays out; it’s one you and changmin know by heart. he’s ready to sing along to snow patrol, murmuring during parts he didn’t know the lyrics to. then the song is cut short; an unfamiliar tune plays out. his eyes snap away from his phone to stare at your slouched figure by the table.

“awe, why’d you change it?” he whines. not a single response comes from you. he frowns at your back but decides to not ask again. maybe his voice was too soft for you to even hear him, or you were too caught up in your work to pay attention to his thoughts. either way, he wanted to respect your study time so long as you took enough time to rest.

a bell rings out. changmin looks back to his phone to see a text message from chanhee—are we still meeting for dinner?

“hey, are you still up to have dinner with chanhee?” changmin asks as he sits up, hair ruffled into a mess, and still…

this isn’t the first time you’ve done this. you were the type to not answer if you were caught up with something. but changmin is used to it, understanding that you needed the space to focus which resulted in tuning everything out.

he stands up and walks towards you, his hands landing on your shoulders. still, no reaction. he starts to frown at your behavior. usually, you would at least acknowledge him at this point. “earth to y/n?”

a disgruntled sound leaves you as your eyes remain on your notes. you still continue to rewrite them all while changmin stands behind you. “do you want to have dinner with chanhee?” he asks once more only to be met with you shaking your head. he hums for a moment before suggesting, “do you want me to order some food instead?”

“no.” it’s the first time he’s heard you speak since he arrived.

a pout appears on his lips. “but… you haven’t eaten.”

“pointing out the obvious, mister.” the tone is harsh, enough to have him flinch. the grip on your shoulders loosened. in front of him was a version of you he wasn’t used to. it almost seemed like you were mad at him but he didn’t know why. 

you let out a sigh. “sorry, i’m just not in the mood today.” the apology that leaves your lips almost sounds genuine. “i just have a lot of things to work on, and i need to do it now or i’ll be behind.”

changmin nods before letting go of you. “is there anything i can do?” you go back to saying nothing, only shaking your head once more, and he takes it as a sign to not bother you further.

“okay,” he whispers, taking a few steps away from you. “i’ll go have dinner then with chanhee, okay?” once again, you don’t respond; you don’t even bother to shake your head this time.

he quickly types a reply to his best friend—yeah, it’ll just be us. y/n’s got some work to catch up on. he grabs his bag that rests against your bed frame and looks back to you whose back still faces him. he walks to you and faces your cheek. a frown rests on your face, clearly concentrated on the work you’re doing.

“i’ll go, okay? just let me know once you’ve eaten.” the question is soft, but your hardened expression doesn’t falter. so he kisses your cheek, lips lingering a few seconds more than usual, before saying, “love you, take care.”

“stay safe.” your response is almost soundless, but changmin catches it. he grins at your words—it’s enough to patch up the wound you inflicted moments ago. so he exits your room, leaving you the space you seem to need.

floating in a sea of missed calls and excuses

it’s cold tonight; the wind comes in waves, hitting changmin’s cheeks in full force, and the leaves rustle along. he loves it when the weather is like this; it’s an excuse to wear hoodies without having his fingers fall off. but most of all, it’s an opportunity for him to snuggle up in bed with you. he would rest his nose against your cheek and leave trails of kisses all over your collar area, only until you’d tell him to stop from how ticklish it feels.

but tonight, he stands in the dark right outside of your favorite restaurant. the luminescence pours out, the chatter from customers and staff seeps through the cracks of the windows, and the smell of dishes lingers in the air. everyone seems like they’re having the time of their lives—can changmin say the same for himself?

his eyes stare at his shared messages with you—still no response from you. a sigh leaves him.

you were not the type to ditch plans. if something came up, you would message him as soon as you found out. but now, it’s 30 minutes past the time you were supposed to meet him, and there was no message regarding your absence. so he calls you, places his phone against his ear, and waits for your answer.

it rings for a while. changmin is almost scared you won’t pick up—what if you lost your phone? what if you were kidnapped? or what if you got into an accident?

“changmin-ah!”

changmin lets out a sigh of relief as he hears your voice. “where are you?” he can hear the faint sounds of music playing from your end, but he doesn't hear a word from you. “y/n?”

“huh? oh, sorry. what were you saying?”

his eyes flicker to the restaurant sign. “where are you? i’m already here.”

“already whe—oh, there!” you cough. “i can’t make it.”

changmin frowns before asking, “what’s wrong? are you okay?”

“yeah, i just can’t make it.” he bites the inside of his cheek as he listens intently to your words. 

“but we planned this for a while now.” he looks down to the ground as he paces around, kicking a stone off the sidewalk. “we haven’t gone on a date in months,” he whispers.

“i’m with jiwoo right now.”

his eyebrows shoot up before he asks, “is she okay?” he doesn’t want to make you feel guilty if your best friend needs you. you only hum back in response. “okay, do you want me to pass by?” not a single response comes from you. all he can hear is the muffled sounds of chattering and the faint notes of whatever song is playing in the background.

“hello?” he calls out once more.

“oh, sorry! i was talking to jiwoo. anyways, i really have to go!”

“oh, okay. love—” the call drops. “—you…” the last word trails into a whisper. you don’t even bother to say your usual farewell.

he bites the inside of his cheek as he looks down at his phone, looking back at his chat with you. as he replays the conversation, a prickly feeling consumes his heart—enough to form cuts on the organ but not enough to stab it all the way through.

the next thing he knows, he’s calling his best friend. two rings later, he picks up, even faster than you did. “changmin-ah?”

“hey, chanhee. have you had dinner?” changmin asks as he walks into the restaurant. he quickly tells one of the staff his name for his reservation.

“oh! i was about to.”

the waitress signals that they have his table, and so he follows her to where he’ll be seated. “okay. do you wanna have dinner with me?” he asks.

as they arrive at the table, he notices the setup is nicer than usual. a candle sits in the middle of a pile of fake rose petals, and a bottle of your favorite wine in an ice bucket standing beside it—they’re all special requests made by him just for you. so he signals to the waitress to clean up the roses and remove the candle. the wine that was meant to be shared with you will now be shared with his best friend instead.

“huh? i thought you were going on a date with y/n.”

changmin sighs before taking a seat saying, “something came up. they’re with jiwoo right now.” he watched her clean up the table, leaving the two sets of tableware untouched.

a beat passes.

“okay,” chanhee whispers back. “i’ll see you at that restaurant, right?” and changmin only hums before hanging up on him.

when his best friend arrived, changmin smiled at him. thankfully, tonight’s reservations would not be wasted. but for the rest of the dinner, changmin avoided talking about you.

i sit here with glistening eyes as the stripes on my back chip and dry

changmin stands outside of the door, a plastic bag full of your favorite takeout food in his hand. tonight was supposed to turn out right; come home with boxes of chinese food and spend the rest of the time talking about nothing or everything—whichever you wanted—but he doesn’t know where he went wrong.

the door swings open and it reveals his best friend. confusion paints chanhee’s face, but changmin grins as he raises the bag up. “i brought some food if you haven’t eaten.” the smile on his face is bittersweet. no matter how many times he may try to play this whole thing off, chanhee knows his best friend.

so chanhee only nods and steps to the side, letting him into his apartment. it’s instinctive for him—go to the kitchen, remove the food, and microwave it. so chanhee goes to the fridge, pulls out two cans of beer, and sets them on the table. as soon as dinner is ready, the two sit across from each other before digging into the meal.

from how changmin looks, it seems like he isn’t up to talking. all he wants to do is eat in silence, but chanhee knows it would be wrong to leave this situation hanging in the air.

“so, what’s up with you two?” changmin looks up to see his best friend whose eyes are on him as he slurps up some noodles.

“what do you mean? everything is fine,” he shoots him a smile before grabbing some beef and broccoli. as he chews away, chanhee sighs as he shakes his head.

“you know that’s a lie.” his best friend is always the type to be straightforward. if changmin was wearing an atrocious outfit, chanhee would let him know. if he was overreacting, his best friend would knock some sense into him. but most of all, if chanhee smelled bullshit on changmin’s end, he would call it. chanhee believes that his best friend’s situation is no different.

so chanhee asks, “what happened tonight?” but changmin refuses to answer, letting the silence take over—it’s enough to speak for him. he bites the inside of his cheek, drops the fork on his plate, and rests his arms on the table. as he looks intently at changmin, he says, “i think you need to talk to them.”

changmin rips his gaze away from chanhee, looking down at the food that he moves around on his plate. usually, he would listen to what his best friend would have to say, but now, he wished he could block him out.

“i wouldn’t talk about it if you didn’t want to,” chanhee starts off. “but i can’t stand watching this unfold any further. i don’t want you to keep getting hurt.”

changmin only sighs as he continues to play with his food until he feels his best friend grab hold of his hand. he looks up to see chanhee whose face is painted with concern. “i’m serious.” it’s a testament to the gravity of the elephant in the room you and he share. “this isn’t healthy, and you know that.”

changmin wishes he could retort back—you two were only going through a rough patch because of different schedules and priorities. if chanhee dissed his outfit, he would defend his fashion choices. if his best friend thought he was overreacting, he would justify his behavior by pointing out the circumstances that brought this reaction.

but the only time changmin could never defend himself is when chanhee calls bullshit on him, so he chooses to stay silent. he doesn’t try to argue with his best friend. instead, he only eats his food and hopes that this will pass—you two will be okay.

but for now, the night is young, and you are here, and snow patrol just came on the radio

changmin breathes in the sight of you, almost like it’ll be the last time he’ll ever see it, and bites on his tongue. the words shall remain unspoken. but a familiar song starts to play out, a shared favorite between you two, and he cannot help but feel his sentiments start to spill out.

“it this the end?” the question is almost soundless but he knows you hear it over the vocals of snow patrol. your hands grip on the steering wheel, and you swallow down nothing. still, your eyes remain on the road.

changmin hopes you shake your head, telling him that everything is fine, or maybe even ask what he’s pertaining to. he wouldn’t have it in him to let go of what you two formed together—a home in each other in a town that never did justice to the term. he’s only learned what it means to have one through you because you built it with him. any other response would be fine so long as it wasn’t an affirmation of his fears.

but the worst came like the breeze that hit changmin’s cheeks—you nod without sparing a glance. with a simple nod, everything he knew disintegrated.

you held the sledgehammer and swung it against his heart made of glass, and the shattered pieces fling against the wall. that action alone should be enough for him to feel anger, despair, sorrow. but he’s okay with picking up the glass shards, left to clean the mess you left because you’re still home to him even if he may not be yours.

without uttering another word, he lets his eyes drift to the road—this will be the last time you two go on the same path. but for now, he’ll remain content with his last moments with you.

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