#oh fuck i almost forgot my art tag

[balmungkriemhild]

Siegfried Alter, or "what if your aunt's elderly yorkie was a dragon man and that dragon man was the supposedly dark side of a famed hero forcibly brought to the surface via Holy Grail War Shenanigans/Grand Order Mishaps/Miscellaneous Misfortunes" bonus doodle

[joyfuladorable]

SPOILERS FOR DAMES AND DRAGONS (LEGENDLARK) ARC 8 EPISODE 1

@damesanddragons said Fran Angst (Frangst) REAL!!!

Bonus work sketches under the cut:

[bitchlessdino]

put it in writing (m)

In collaboration with @camandemstudios Pairing: college student!seungkwan x Fem!TA!reader Genre: humor, smut Word count: 7.8k tags: college au, TA x student dynamic, push-and-pull, mentions of TXT's soobin, mentions of Ryan Gosling, a lot of fucking lying, explicit content, unprotected sex, hair pulling, cream pies, oral, cum-consumption, pet names (baby, good boy), praise kink Summary: You keep things professional--as you should--even if one of your students is someone you hooked up with one night before the college semester started. Meanwhile, Boo Seungkwan is anything but honest--he's a writer after all--but if he is honest about one thing, it's about wanting to write a new story with you. a/n: thank you @highvern @sluttyminghao and @strxwberry-skiess for beta reading <3 (late note: I wanna thank @gyuswhore @highvern and @haologram for the brainstorming if I forgot to mention anyone I’m sorry. They’ve been a really big help and we’re super motivating and supportive the entire process I love yall 💕)

You don’t go out. Period. As simple as that.

Until tonight. 

Summer is almost over, and once it ends, you’ll be Professor Yoo’s newest TA. You've worked hard to get to this point and despite the inevitable late-night grading sessions, you expect the experience to be rewarding and maybe even inspirational. You’re sure this achievement would make your academic-forward parents proud. Their daughter, at the top of her class, brimming with excitement and potential, jobs coming in from left and right, all while on her way to...a Writing degree. 

The one downside: they didn’t believe a writing degree would lead to anything substantial. Not like Biomedical engineering or Accounting. The one degree worse than Art. You almost forgot that writing was useless in their eyes because who couldn’t just pick up a pen and paper to scribble some words down?

You down another cheap shot of tequila, muttering your grievances under your breath as your friends revel in the club's pulsating atmosphere. They are only mildly concerned with your drinking habits, accustomed to your tightly wound, studious nature. Typically, you are the one buried in textbooks, rarely venturing into the party scene. Yet tonight, you surprise them all with your ironclad liver, effortlessly downing shots without a hint of a stumble.

“You, okay?”

You scoff, taking yet another shot, “Really depends what that means. ‘Okay’ as in life or ‘okay’ as in financially, mentally, emotionally, sexually, and-slash-or physically fulfilled with proud parents that love me unconditionally?”

“Oh, boy.” Hyeri tries to tear you away from any more alcohol and lays you flat against the back of the leather booth, twisting the top of a water bottle before putting it on your lips. “Let's get you hydrated, hmm? Can’t have you hungover the next day. I’ll be the one you’re complaining to.”

“Suffer my consequences!”

“Of course, darling.”

Hyeri, your steadfast friend since high school and now a new TA from another university, is like a sister to you. She knows your every habit and inclination, no matter how shit-faced you decide to get. “Don’t look, but there’s supple skin, high cheekbones, and a pretty smile looking directly at you.”

You subtly fix your gaze and accidentally meet the young man’s eyes as he nurses a highball glass between his lips. His eyes narrow back at you with interest. You muse back at him, mimicking his action with the water bottle in your grasp. As you drink with your eyes glued on his expression, the water passes over your lips, with the excess trickling suggestively down your chin and neck, your skin glistening in its sheen.

His lips part, dropping in a smug smile–and my, was it prettier than anticipated–and tilt his head as if quietly beckoning you closer. 

“I’m going over there.” 

Before you could get up from your booth, Hyeri is there to immediately tug you back down, eyes full of concern. “Are you sure, hon? You had quite a bit to drink.”

Your eyes crease as you smile back at her reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”

“He looks young, he probably doesn't even know what a 401k is.”

“Do any of us?” You leave off before striding in the direction of the pretty boy, who still can’t keep his eyes off you.

You weave through the sea of sweaty bodies, sidestepping spilled drinks and the pulsating lights of the dance floor, your eyes locked on him. His gaze trails you with every step, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes, speaking to you like an incantation. When you finally reach his feet, the distance closing with each heartbeat, his smile grows wider, more inviting. The moment your legs brush against the softness of his leather couch, he leans to maintain your locked gaze, a now more playful glint in his eyes. Your smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Is this seat taken?”

“Only by you if anyone else asks,” he smoothly responds.

You gently lower yourself beside him, lifting one leg to cross it over the other, feeling the cool leather beneath you. His eyes follow your every movement, lingering on the curve of your thigh as it presses against the other. You lean in slightly, your curiosity evident in the arch of your brow. “Why all alone? With a face as pretty as yours, I’d expect someone to be all over you by now.”

He shifts his body toward you, his eyes drinking in your appearance, savoring every detail from the whip of your hair and to glitter on your legs. Meanwhile, the subtle spicy sweet scent of his cologne mingles with the ambient aromas of the club, and you can’t even breathe the air without the desire to jump his bones. Especially one in particular.

He regains his smile, a slow, confident curve of his lips, and extends a hand toward you. “I could say the same for you. I’m Seungkwan.”

You take his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch and the gentle caress of his thumb against your knuckles. With a graceful nod, you gave him a firm handshake. You return the gesture by introducing yourself, your voice smooth and inviting, matching the rhythm of the music that pulses around you, and that seems to only grow his interest. “What a pretty name. You’ve been here long?”

“Just long enough,” you say, your voice carrying a playful challenge.

“What is it that someone like you does to want to let loose in a place like this?”

“Mmh, I don’t know. It really depends on how much you’re willing to share,” you reply, narrowing your eyes and taking in that body begging to be undressed.

“Well, if you must know, I work somewhere…uncommon,” he says, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

You lean in too, resting your elbow on the back of the couch and propping your chin on your hand, your fingers lightly brushing your lips. “Do tell, Seungkwan.”

“Don’t be surprised, but I’m a bit of a big deal, especially around here,” he brags.

You raise an eyebrow, ready to bite. “That’s very vague. Mind elaborating?”

He briefly shifts his eyes to glance around the room, the smile never leaving his lips. He leans in closer, his breath warm and tickling against your ear, making it burn. “Just know I know the ins and outs of this club,” he whispers, his voice a tantalizing murmur. “Some information you might find even surprising that no one else knows.”

You pull back slightly, your eyes locking onto his, a spark of intrigue dancing between you. “Sounds like you’ve got some secrets,” you murmur, your voice low and rich. You reach for his drink from the table in front of you, your fingers brushing against his thigh for balance as you lift the glass to your lips. You take a slow, deliberate sip, not minding that its rim has touched a stranger's lips. “How sketchy,” you dare insult with a playful glint in your eye as you set the glass back down.

“Care to find out?”

“What part of ‘ sketchy’ did you not understand?” You softly laugh.

“I promise it’s harmless,” his voice brimming with mischief, poking the inside of his cheek playfully. “Or at least, you’d have a little fun.”

You hum amused. “Define fun.”

He takes you by the hand, his touch firm yet gentle, leading you away from the pulsating dance floor to a secluded corner of the club. The music echoes softly in the background, its bass reverberating through the walls. You follow him through a maze of dimly lit corridors and alcoves, catching glimpses of other partygoers lost in their own worlds.

The air changes as you enter an empty private space, cooler and quieter than the crowded main room. Your eyes fall on a single secluded corner with windows going ceiling to floor, flooding the room with skylight. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of alcohol and the crisp air of a cracked open window too high to reach.

As you settle into a seat in front of the windows, you observe the city through the crystal clear glass, drinking in the scene of small tables adorned with flickering candles, and erotic artwork adorning the walls. The music from the main floor is muted here like the world behind closed doors fell silent for this moment, and only you two are left in the room to bask in it. If temptation was room, this had to be it.

There’s a subtle shift in his eyes, a flicker of something unreadable—resembling pride—before they revert back to his calm suavity. He assumes the seat next to you on the plush velvet couch tucked into a private nook that touches the light of the stars. The soft glow of ambient lights casts a warm, intimate ambiance around you, contrasting with the pulsating beats of the club music that drifts in from the main floor.

“It’s a V.V.I.P area,” Seungkwan explains in a low voice, “Some of the employees don’t even know it exists.”

“But someone like you does?” you inquire, your voice tinged with intrigue.

He shrugs nonchalantly, a hint of pride evident in his demeanor as his body dipped into the leather. “I have my way around here.”

“Really?” you tease, growing slowly more convinced.

Seungkwan meets your gaze with a playful grin. “I obviously can’t tell you everything,” he says, his tone brimming with mischief. “Just know that I’m involved in ways that keep this place running smoothly. The club would die without me.”

You chuckle softly, savoring his playful confidence, and leaning against the cushions, head turned to him. “What can you tell me?” you ask, your voice growing softer. Your finger traces a teasing path down the collar of his shirt, undoing a button with deliberate slowness. “Humor me,” you exhale, your breath brushing against his ear and your gaze locked with his.

You can hear his breath hitch, and finally, you have him right where you want him. He fixes on the way your legs cross, tracing the curve of your calf up to where they disappear under the hem of your skirt. He seems momentarily captivated by the subtle movement of your flesh as they collide against each other, giving hardly any brain capacity to cumulate words.

You notice the furrow of his brow, a slight tilt of his head—as if he were mentally dissecting his thoughts. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes tried to regain clarity. You can almost visualize the gears turning in his mind, each cog clicking into place as he forms a coherent story, if any.

Each word comes out in complete shambles and he is saying more nothing than anything. Whatever the truth is at this point, you don’t care. Seungkwan is just too cute to pass up.

The clearing of his throat tells you he’s finished, the tilt of his smile growing less confident and more anxious as your weight pushes against his chest. He tries to come back from his stumble, picking off strands of hair in front of your face and playing with their ends before changing the subject. “Now tell me your work. What is so amazing that you do?”

“I’m—“ a teacher’s aid in massive debt on their way to graduating with potentially a useless degree neither of their parents is proud of because, although you love it,  you’re too proud to say otherwise, “—a indie movie producer with one of the films up for a reward. Super lowkey right now, but…we got Gosling.” You shrug, impressed with your own lies. “So, things are looking up.”

“That’s quite impressive.” he hums, intrigued and interested in hearing about more. “Is he as nice in real life as he is in interviews?”

“Ryan’s got a screw or two loose, but pretty okay guy. At least not into Scientology or anything.”

“Interesting,” He gaze dips towards you, being drawn to you immensely, if not locking eyes with you, scanning over your features, particularly your lips that wished to be claimed. “You call all big-name celebrities by their first name?”

You shrug, the lying coming more and more naturally than anticipated. “Only the ones I’m close with.”

His palm hugs the curve of your cheek, thumb softly brushing against your bottom lip. “I wonder what getting close to you entails.”

“Are you planning on finding out?”

You give each other a long look, one that keeps waiting and ushering the other until your lips decidedly crash into his. His lips part, making way for your presence, the heat of the kiss flushing your skin and pleased shivers running throughout your entire body. Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth pulling your flesh and a soft sigh escapes his lips before his hand creeps behind your head and muffles a moan that neither were sure from who.

You lift your body from the couch, chasing his pace, and pull him closer, kissing him deeper with all your might. You crawl over his lap, straddling his hips, hands in his hair, breath on his skin. Your chest tightens as he presses you closer by the small of your back, to which you gasp as you part from his lips.

He finds your gaze, his round and glistening eyes meeting yours in soft urgency. “You okay? Something wrong?”

You shake your head, palm clasped against your burning face. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He lets out an amused scoff. “Keep up, Miss producer.”

Your lips reconnect, and fireworks play in your like it’s the fourth of July. Popping and popping. Your lip lock only intensifies as your tongues brush against one another, entangling deeper and soon you realize Seungkwan wasn’t one just to kiss with his lips. 

You ball his clothes in fists when his hands use your hips, running them over his lap, the friction so tantalizing you could hear temptation like a devil on your shoulder. You let him take you, moving towards him replicating crashing waves against sand. Loud. Harsh. Seamless.

Clothes come off soon after, starting with the delicate unbuttoning of Seungkwan’s silk top–donning the torso of one fond of sports and sprayed in excitable perspiration–before then he levers you up and slides slacks down his thighs hurriedly. His bare legs crushed underneath yours, you readily pull up your dress, bunching at your waist as feel him unzip the back, the metal chill against your spine.

“Fuck,” he softly mutters, eagerly digging his fingers in your exposed flesh and whimpering against your kiss. “Don’t hold back with me.”

“Hold back?” you repeat with a chuckle, your fingers that threaded through his hair pulling his head back, angling his head so that he was forced to look up at you in what currently looks to be in awe. “You don’t have to worry about that with me.”

“Shit stirrer, huh? I guess that’s why you’re the one handling production.”

Your lips begin to trail down his jaw, front teeth nipping his skin. “Real question is, would you let me handle yours?”

“I’d let you do anything to me,” he mumbles, earnest in every word, every inch of his body vibrating off yours, including the hardening presence between his legs pressing against your stomach. “Just don’t stop.”

Your dress abandoned on the floor, Seungkwan claiming your tits in either hand, kneading them between his fingers as he’s rolling his hips against your plush flesh and feeling your radiating core slide against his shaft. He involuntarily moans through a bitten bottom lip, imagining you ride him just like this until the end of time, thinking he could cum from this alone until he feels you move the tip of his size towards your entrance. “Oh god,” he gives out, the head of his cock readily grazing over your slit, quickly pleased. “So fucking wet. Fuck…”

“I want you inside me,” you admit, not bothering to subdue your desires. “I want to put you inside me and make me feel every inch of you.”

“Fuck…me…” he presses into your skin flushed against one another, lips curled downward in impatience, gripping your full thighs to either of his sides. “I wanna fuck you so bad. Please give yourself to me.”

“You promise you’ll handle it like a good boy?” You tease, pushing his tip only a centimeter deeper.

“Please, please, anything. I just wanna feel that pussy choke me please.” He begs.

Your hand clamps against the couch enthusiastically, “Fuck you’re so needy. That’s so hot.” Gingerly, you reward his pleas, feeling his raw length make contact with your contracting walls, squeezing around his girth and making Seungkwan flip his eyes before he starts guiding your hips.

“Fuck that’s so good, baby.”

You lightly scoff. “Baby? A little soon don’t you think?”

“Thought we found some common ground when you decided for me to fuck you. My mistake,” he chides.

You catch a tendril of his hair between your fingers, “Maybe it’s how you fuck me that grants you such a term of endearment.”

“Better up my game then.” He lifts you up, tangling your legs around his waist before he pushes you on your back, swiftly slamming his hips against you.

Your head crashes deep into the leather, the musky scent of sex now invading your nose as you drown in heat. “Shit.”

“Making sure I get the advantage.” He folds forward to press against you, your breasts back in his hands before his lips wrap around a nipple, his tongue attacking your sensitivity before he inevitably sucks. He leaves you in an ache, your hips thrusting back into him conveniently in time for him to regain his rhythm.

“S-Seungkwan…”

His moan vibrates against your skin, teeth pulling your nipple as he thrusts deeper, grazing your deep end just perfectly not enough. Fucking tease.

You whine beneath him, squirming. Your legs tighten around him, attempting to make friction, and finding a growl in your throat as a hand of Seungkwan’s squeezes your behind. A whole ass cheek in the clutches of his well-groomed hands, squeezing and memorizing its swell, while he’s splitting you in half to deduce you to a bumbling horny mess.

“Where have you been all my life?” He mumbles with glee.

You clench your fists behind him as he heightens his pace, melting into the tender assault of his lips that burn your skin and silence your voice. He ruts into you deeper, pounding away his frustrations and when he makes it known he’s found your spot, you make it clear as day.

“Oh god,” you groan, gripping him tighter. Your jaw drops slack, silent screams coming out of you, and you cling to him like in desperation to maintain that high as you claw against his broad back.

“That’s so good. Is it right there, am I hitting your spot, baby?” he asks with an exhausted grin.

You nod, softly pleading for more, and he generously grants. In an attempt to intensify your core’s pleasure, his hand cups just above your slit, fingers finding your blossoming bud. Your breath is shot, feeling the caress of his thumb press down before rubbing your arousal around your clit. Your hips thrust into his touch, gripping him by the shoulders, feeling your combined sweat drip from your sides and squeaking against the couch fabric.

“Oh my god, oh my god…” You can’t control it anymore. Seungkwan isn’t just pushing you past the edge, he's shoving you off.

“Like that, baby. Yes, what good girl cumming all over my cock,” he sweetly praises.

You reach him by the back of his head and propel him forward, colliding lips in a fervent liplock. Your moans drowned between one another, your climax coming in tenfold as he didn’t for a second stop, even well after you came. 

Yet, it isn’t enough. Seungkwan shifts and tugs your legs to border his torso. He lifts himself from the ground, his feet flat, shutting your legs tight, having the sweat of your thighs chafe against another unsettlingly. It then becomes completely overlooked with his hips, his cock starts pushing in and out of you, and folding himself into you with your closed legs as your pussy choked around his cock. Your walls pulsating around him, hot and lush, he death grips your body and watches your flesh recoil back against him deliciously. 

“Fucking shit,” he groans, plunging deeper as your cries moisten your cheeks and he brings you to a foreign level of ecstasy. 

His release from what you can tell is thick, warm, and inviting. Your legs find a mind of their own when they decide to lock the stranger in place, feel every ounce of pure pleasure shooting down inside you, coating you in your collaborative efforts, and residing peacefully deep, deep in your sore heat. 

Your lover collapses against you, eyes barely managing to open as he guides your bodies in a more comfortable position, his cum and cock still inside you. 

He’s softly pant, red on every inch of his face, residual from his raging orgasm and…fluster? “I…I don’t usually—“

“I don’t mind,” you gently reassure, brushing away the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. “I wanted that to happen.”

“But what if—“

“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” you hint and fortunately he gets the clue, cuddling up to you closer.

“Good.” He nods, sounding off in relief.

You play with his ear, thumbing over the flaming red tip. “That was really good.”

The boy can’t help but grin, “I make good on my promises…and if you want, we can do it again.”

Your movement stops. “Oh.” Now you’re panicking. “I don’t think we should.”

His cock slips out of you with ease at your confession, both flaccid and disappointed as cum drips down the leather. “Why not? I thought you liked it.”

You begin sitting up, taking Seungkwan with you. “Of course I do! It’s just…my schedule doesn’t allow me to date—let alone see people outside of work—so, this wouldn’t work.” You offer him an apologetic pat on the back, feeling the muscles pulse against you before you regretfully pull away. “This is actually my last night in town, I was gonna leave soon for another shoot…but this was wonderful.”

You cup his cheek, flushed red and soft as can be, and kiss its fullness, letting your lips linger. “I’m so sorry.” For absolutely lying about everything about me when you gave me the most incredible orgasm I’ve had in centuries and to myself for cutting lose the hottest fucking man fiction and nonfiction you’ve ever fucking met.

“No, I get it,” he answers, a hint of sorrow in his gaze. “You got things going for you. That’s ok. Just let me know when you’re in town, hmm? We can get together again, maybe?”

His sense of hope is admirable, something you saw in yourself a few years ago before the toppling towers of crippling debt fell on you. “I don’t think so, handsome.”

He sighs. “Alright. I get it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head with a knowing smile. “Don’t be.”

“You ended my vacation the best way you could’ve,” you egg on, “Couldn’t have ended my last night in town any better.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, finally a light flickering back in his eyes. “Then maybe I can give you a parting gift.”

You raise an eyebrow, following his figure leaving your body and find his knees back in the ground and between your legs, “Seungkwan?”

“Can’t have you leave a mess.” His hand glides over your thighs, gaze flickering from you and your cunt oozing in cum, and his full lips kissing your inner thigh, tingling legs and garnering goosebumps down your shins.

“Are you actually—“

His tongue scraps on the skin just next to your lips, a mixture of your climax settling on his tongue, and you mewl at the sight. He kneads your flesh, his moans tickling your skin and admiring it how he knew how: worship.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His fingers play against your sensitive folds, tension pressed on your clit. “You’re everything I could want…tasting you and pleasing you is the least I could do.”

His mouth wrapped around your lips before sucking, tongue parting what’s between, and sighing at the harmonious flavor dancing inside his mouth. Your worn walls contract around him, it feeds his desire as he pushes his face deeper inside you, and melts at your hands finding hair in soft strokes. 

Your voice aches for another release. The sensation of his jaw locking and nodding in your heat as his tongue fucks his cum back inside you drives you to up a wall. You squirm the faster he flicks his tongue, legs pulling back and forward, overwhelmed by Seungkwan’s mouth until he holds either one at either side, locking it around his neck.

His eyes ooze with determination and his face falls from color. The compromising position he put himself in is not one free consequence, but for the last single of the most greatest fuck of his life, losing a bit of oxygen was worth it, and his efforts are soon proven.

When you cum this time on his tongue, Seungkwan has never tasted anything sweeter, or rather bittersweet knowing this would be the last he’d get the chance to. He’s tasting you, savoring you, worshiping you. From the scent of your body, to the face you make, from what you feed him. If he knew how impossibly decadent you just were–only for you to leave–maybe he wouldn’t have done this. Or maybe he would.

Reluctantly, Seungkwan breaks apart from your lips to reconnect with another. One last shared, heated breath of this spontaneous exchange. One that he’d remember for a long time, and think about over long nights. Tenderly, your foreheads are the ones to kiss in a silent farewell, sad smiles on both your faces.

“Thank you…for reminding me what it feels like to live my own life.”

The pretty boy softly scoffs, kissing you once more, the tingle his lips lingering on yours. “Make your stories magical as you’ve made my night. Take care, Miss Producer.”

You quickly get dressed before the sexy stranger pulls you right back in his trace and you drag your friend and club attendee all the way back home, giving you the pleasure of finally resting in bed, body still aching from the sweltering sex hours ago. Sadly, without the warm body you enjoyed so much tonight. He made a lasting impression on you and you hope maybe one day on better circumstances you’ll meet again and the lie may someday be true. If you’re so lucky.

Eventually, summer takes its final laps and you’re entering the college semester and start working closely with the professor you’re aiding. The matter that your life is slowly being sucked away becomes more real the longer you look at his lesson plan and although you love writing, you know you’re about to dread the long evenings of paperwork to come. 

The first day of being a TA: get in the building by the car you have barely hanging on, meet with the professor, get in lectures and “TA”, skim through your new work for graduate classes, and sadly eat your late lunch/dinner alone because you know the ziplock of trail mix marinating in your backpack would not be enough. That’s the plan. Easy to follow.

Students start trickling into the classroom about twenty minutes before actual lecture time, some with nervous faces and excited expressions. Then a few minutes before the lecture starts, hoards of students are coming through, the classroom getting louder and louder as there is not enough space for white noise. You feel your heart beating increasingly–admittedly more nervous than anticipated–finding yourself focused on papers to avoid eyes with the other students until you can’t anymore.

With over 100 students, you start to feel like an imposter, a kid playing dress-up in her mom’s closet. Normally, you're not one to get nervous on the first day, but being a teacher’s assistant makes this situation different. You’re terrified of screwing up, whether it’s a big mistake or a small one. You tell yourself you need to get out of your head.

When roll call becomes necessary, the professor hands you the clipboard, forcing you to introduce yourself and make your presence known. Your hands tremble from natural nerves as you call out the names on the list, doing your best to pronounce each one clearly and coherently. Then your gaze lands on a name all too familiar, one that’s been on the tip of your tongue before. You can’t help but look up, eager to hear the voice that responds.

He stares at you, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, his lips curling up at the corners as his eyes gleam with intrigue—just like that night before.

You clear your throat, quickly averting your gaze, and resume roll call. You decide right then to ignore him for the rest of the day, the semester, and possibly the rest of your college career, if you can help it.

When you finish, you don’t dare look up again, telling yourself it’s because it’s the first day. You’ve done everything you needed to do for now.

As the lecture wraps up, it’s time to leave. The professor dismisses the class and exits the room, leaving you to pick up the pieces and answer any lingering questions from students. You just hope this particular student isn’t one of them.

“I had a question, Miss LN.”

You’re reminded that hope is just another word for wishful thinking. You don’t need to look up to know who it is. His voice is already etched into your memory, feeding the part of you that wants to respond, and you clench your thighs at the memory.

“Sure, what… um, what is it?” you respond, still not looking up.

“It’s about the syllabus. I was hoping we could discuss it in private?” His tone carries a hint of something familiar, something that doesn’t belong between a student and a teacher’s assistant.

“The syllabus is pretty self-explanatory,” you reply, trying to keep your voice neutral, though your pulse quickens.

“But I wanted to ask, just in case I misinterpreted anything.”

You make a show of straightening the papers on your desk, the crisp shuffle loud enough to make it clear you’re not amused. “You're a writing major. I’m sure you understand everything just fine.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to check,” he says, a casual shrug masking the intent behind his words.

You sigh, knowing you won’t easily shake him off. Finally, you meet his gaze, catching the anticipation simmering in his eyes. With a resigned breath, you gather your belongings and stand. “Fine, follow me.”

As you lead him to a tucked-away corner, your footsteps echo in the quiet hallway. You glance around to ensure there are no prying eyes before stopping. He waits until you’re both out of sight before speaking, his voice lowering in that familiar way that sends a shiver down your spine. “So, how’s the indie film coming along, Miss Producer?”

Your arms cross instinctively, a barrier against the playful look on his face. His eyes sparkle with amusement, as if this is all a game to him. As if your college career and your career career didn’t hang on the very balance of this conversation and your history. “Very funny,” you reply, glaring at him. “Just two big liars caught in their own webs of lies. How serendipitous.”

He chuckles softly, the sound unnervingly familiar and instinctively arousing. “I know why I lied, but why did you?”

You plant a hand to your chest defensively. “Excuse me, I never anticipated seeing you ever again. It’s natural I’d lie—wait, why did you lie?”

“To get laid. Duh.” He answers as if it was the obvious thing in the world.

You roll your eyes, back knocking against the wall behind you. “Of course, fucking dumbass college boys.”

“You fell for it, so who’s the dumbass now?”

“Still you? Were you even drinking age?”

“Uh, yes that’s how I got in, otherwise they never would’ve let me in.”

Your palm runs over your face in embarrassment, cringing for long nights of thinking of your student of all fucking people. “I fucking knew you didn’t own the Gemstone.”

“Yet, you fucked me anyway.”

You rush towards him, your breath catching as you pin your fingers in front of your lips and hiss, “Will you shut your mouth?”

He crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall, a smug smile playing on his lips. “Why? You’re a TA, not a professor.It’s perfectly kosher.”

“It’s still highly frowned upon to fraternize in that manner, regardless of whether I’m a TA or a professor. I grade your fucking papers,” you shoot back, your eyes narrowing as the frustration rises in your chest.

He just shrugs, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “Hey, if it gets me a good grade…”

“Or watch me fucking fail you,” you snap, stepping even closer, your voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you ever speak a word about that night again, got it?”

His smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, geez.”

“Good.”

But he can’t resist one last jab, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “My lips—and pants—are sealed.”

“Seungkwan!” You hiss his name, barely keeping your voice down, your cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and something else you refuse to acknowledge.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, it’s been a while since you screamed my name.”

You grit your teeth and speak through harsh whispers, your patience wearing thin. 

“I will drop-kick you if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

He grins wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in just a fraction. “Like I said, I keep my promises. See you on Wednesday, Miss TA.”

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, seething, the echo of his footsteps fading down the hallway. The air still buzzes with the tension between you, and you take a moment to collect yourself before heading back, wondering how you’re going to survive the rest of the semester with him in your class. If all your encounters are like this, you might as well quit now.

As expected, that initial confrontation isn’t the last you see of Seungkwan. While being your student, your forced interactions have become a bit of a spectacle among other students, especially considering Seungkwan stares back at you every lecture like you’re the only two people in the room. His routine of pestering during and after lectures has become something his peers have look forward to and you wonder if this kind of thing is normal for a teacher’s assistant.

It seems to have stirred up varying opinions, even among students from other classes—ones far removed from your department, who typically wouldn’t give a second thought to your work. The rumors have even reached the ears of other TAs, the ones you’ve built strong camaraderie with, turning casual conversations into whispered speculations. Some of those speculations have been harmless, fueled by curiosity and mild intrigue. But others? They’ve taken on more confrontational, and their tense gazes have you questioning just how far these rumors have gone.

But is it really a rumor if its all true?

"So, you and that Seungkwan kid, what's that about?"

You give a grand sigh, the weight of your colleague's curiosity pressing down on you as he peers at you, eyes alight with nosy mischief. His intent is clear—he's fishing for details about your relationship with one of your many students. But Seungkwan is different. Far different, even if you’d never admit that aloud knowing how your reputation would stand.

"Really not your business, bud," you reply, trying to keep your tone light, though it’s hard to miss the edge beneath your words.

Your colleague, Soobin, raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed by your attempt to shut him down. "Funny enough, I’m in the business of making things my business."

You scoff, fingers curling tightly around the handle of your freshly brewed coffee, the warmth of the cup your only source of comfort in this conversation. The rich aroma wafts up, offering a brief distraction. "He's my student, obviously, and he’s going to stay that way."

The words come out sharper than intended, the finality of your tone surprising even you. You take a long sip of the coffee, letting the bitterness anchor you. This conversation is tiptoeing too close to a line you’re not ready to cross.

Soobin raises his hands in mock surrender, though there’s a knowing glint in his eyes. "Okay, okay. No need to be so defensive. Good thing you’re keeping it professional."

"I know that. Why are you mansplaining, Soobin? Don’t you have work to do?"

"Of course. Just wanted to point out—it’d be a real problem if you did."

"Uh, yeah. Obviously."

"Good."

"Good."

"I just wouldn’t want to lose anything over it."

You narrow your eyes at him. "What now?"

He hesitates before continuing, grinning sheepishly. "Okay, okay. There might be a bet going around about whether or not you and that kid sleep together again."

"What the—again? Again? What are you talking about?" You gape at him, incredulity painting your features as you struggle to process his words.

"Oh, come on, don’t play dumb," Soobin says with an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes. "Everyone knows."

You blink, your mind racing to catch up. "…Everyone?"

"Everyone." He nods emphatically, the corners of his mouth twitching as he takes in your stunned reaction.

Your face falls, and you run a hand through your hair in frustration, your shoulders slumping. "Well, fuck." The words escape you like a dismayed exhale, your voice tinged with disbelief.

"And I bet that you wouldn’t. At least, not until the end of the semester."

"You bet  money on me?" You’re seething, anger now directed at him.

"Not money," Soobin says quickly, raising his hands in a defensive gesture, as if to ward off any further criticism. He leans in slightly, his tone taking on a pleading edge. "But seriously, just don’t do it, okay? Be a good TA and a good friend. Don’t sleep with the boy. Just... don't."

You glare at him, incredulous. "I oughta do it just to make you lose."

"Please don’t! It wasn’t money I bet!"

You narrow your eyes further. "What did you bet, then?"

Soobin shifts uncomfortably. "Just... test answers."

"Soobin."

"Please! Just help me win this. I’m begging you!" Soobin’s voice is desperate, his eyes wide and pleading.

“You could jeopardize your scholarships with this kind of bet.”

“So don’t let me lose this one!” His frustration is palpable, his hands clasped together as if in prayer.

“I could just hit you,” you threaten, though the words come out more resigned than menacing.

“But I’m so lovely. Don’t you think?” Soobin’s attempt at levity falls flat, his forced grin barely concealing his anxiety.

“Soobin, this is seriously messed up.”

He continues, undeterred, “The money I could win could buy me a new apartment to rent out. I’d finally be able to move off-campus.”

“This is so fucked up,” you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I know, I’m literally on my knees here, dude,” Soobin says, lowering himself as if pleading for mercy.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to stave off the growing irritation. “Fine, damn it. Okay. I hope you’ve fucking learned your lesson and won’t pull this kind of stunt again.”

You meet his gaze head-on, your patience visibly thinning. "Are we done here?"

He nods vigorously, a small, almost imperceptible smile of relief tugging at the corners of his lips. "Of course."

As Soobin walks away, you watch him go, the remnants of the conversation hanging in the air like the fading scent of coffee. You take another sip of your drink, this time more deliberately, letting the warmth seep into you. You try to channel your remaining energy into something productive, determined to salvage what’s left of your day. The knowledge of the bet and the weight of your friend’s reputation hanging in the balance makes every decision weigh heavy on your shoulders.

Despite the sprawling campus and the vast number of students, gossip is as vibrant and pervasive as ever. Seungkwan doesn’t help matters, especially with the frequent discussions you’re having about his late assignments. No matter how stern and resolute your tone becomes, he meets you with a gaze that’s both wistful and enigmatic. His eyes, filled with a mix of wonder and intrigue, follow your every movement. They start by meeting yours directly, then drift downward, lingering on your face, then lower, then lower, and finally–

"Are you paying attention, Seungkwan? Or am I going to have to talk to Professor Yoon about you finally dropping the class?"

Seungkwan leans against the auditorium chairs, averting his attention to the sharp expression on your face, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "No, nothing of the sort, Miss TA. Please, continue to lecture me about what an awful student I am."

Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms, forward on your desk, tapping your foot with growing impatience as you shuffle through to gather your belongings. "I will—and starting where your assignments have been showing up several days late. I can’t keep making exceptions for you."

"Why not? You’re so good at making me feel special," he teases, head tilted, his voice dripping with a sultry sarcasm.

Your patience snaps as you sharply tap the stack of aligned papers on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "Stop it, will you? Your grade is sinking fast, and at this rate, you’ll be repeating the class."

He shrugs, that maddening grin still in place. "Would that really be so bad? You’d get a whole new semester with me."

You scoff, standing upright, pacing a few steps as frustration simmers just beneath the surface. "Are you seriously going to waste your tuition money just to fail? At least pretend to make an effort. Chatgpt exists for students like you I’m assuming."

He tilts his head slightly, eyes gleaming with mischief. "If only someone wasn’t so distracting, maybe I could. You’d understand, Miss TA."

You stop mid-step, spinning to face him, your voice sharp. "Enough. And stop calling me that—it’s like you get off on it."

"Oh, I do." The playful tone in his voice is laced with something else now, something heavier.

Your jaw clenches, heat rising to your face, thighs sealed against one another.. "Your assignments. On time. By the end of this week, or I’ll recommend to Professor Yoon that you drop the class."

"Fine," he mutters, his tone nonchalant, the smirk still lingering lazily on his lips as he halfheartedly stuffs his books into his bag. His movements are careless, and a few sheets of notebook paper slip out, drifting lazily to the floor without him even noticing.

You sigh, bending down to pick them up. As you straighten, your eyes unintentionally flick over the handwritten lines—only for something to catch your attention. You freeze, blinking at the words on the page. "What the...?"

Seungkwan’s demeanor changes in an instant. His eyes widen, and he lunges forward, panic flashing across his face. "Don’t read that!" His voice is more urgent, almost desperate.

But you dodge his grasp, holding the paper just out of reach, your brow furrowing. "What is this? And why is it actually... interesting?"

"Give it back," he says, his tone softer, pleading now. 

"Why don’t you put this much effort into your assignments?" you ask, glancing up at him, your curiosity overtaking your frustration.

Before you can react, Seungkwan steps closer, his movements more deliberate this time. He snatches the paper from your hands, but his proximity catches you off guard. He’s standing close—too close—backing you into the edge of your desk. His face is flushed, his breath coming in shallow bursts, and you can see the embarrassment in his narrowed eyes, the tips of his ears burning red.

Your heart stutters in your chest, your breath hitching as the space between you seems to shrink. The air feels thick, charged with something you know too fucking well. For a moment, neither of you moves, your eyes locked like you’re frozen. You’re acutely aware of every small detail—the way his fingers clutch the paper tightly, how his chest rises and falls with each breath, the warmth radiating from him as he towers just slightly over you.

Suddenly, he stumbles, his foot catching on the leg of the desk, and you gasp as his weight nearly knocks you backward. Your hands shoot out, gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Your glasses slip down your nose as you blink up at him, your pulse quickening, his face inches from yours.

"Sorry," Seungkwan mutters, quickly pulling away, flustered as he hurriedly gathers the fallen papers, stuffing them into his bag. "I’ll do the assignments. Just... don’t fail me. And don’t repeat whatever you think you read."

Without waiting for your reply, he storms out of the room, leaving you standing there, your chest heaving, the ghost of his presence lingering in the suddenly too-quiet space.

You try to steady your breath, ignoring how ragged it had become, and the unsettling way your blood pulsed—not just through your heart, but in places you'd rather not acknowledge. You forcefully push those thoughts aside, desperate for any distraction. Tonight, that distraction would be class assignments.

With an iced coffee marinating at the corner of your office desk, the papers in front of you blur as his face flashes through your head. You can’t help but recall the way his lips looked—full and slightly parted, the way his eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and something else entirely. And the warmth of him—how heavy and undeniably right he felt as he leaned over you, his presence lingering even after he was gone.

You shake your head, determined to refocus on grading, gripping the red pen a little tighter. But your mind drifts again, this time to the words you’d glimpsed on that crumpled page. The writing had a familiarity to it, something deeply personal that tugged at the corners of your mind. Reminding you of how much you remembered that night. Specifically how good that night felt.

‘Her whispers, haunting, breath heavy. She gazes at me with eyes full of want, strands of hair falling over her forehead, tantalizing and wild. Her cheek is warm beneath my hand as I pull her closer, our lips meeting, tasting the sweetness of something long desired but never claimed. For this night, she is mine—even if it's only for this night alone.’

Your cheeks flush as the memory hits, the realization settling in with a mix of shock and something you can't quite name. The words were unmistakable—vivid, intimate, dripping with a desire that mirrored the tension between you two. You recognized the inspiration behind them immediately.

He’s writing his own fanfiction. And it’s about you.

Suddenly, you’re not so much thinking about the bet Soonbin warned you about.

[trtlebuns]

OH YOU BETTER WORK!!

Synopsis: You “accidentally” send your clothes to your boyfriends address and demand a fashion show

Inspired by this video: 💋

Tags: Fluff, wholesome, comedy, and Soap

Johnny (Soap) MacTavish

“babe” you hear Johnny say through the FaceTime call

“Hm?” You replied not looking at the phone while you paint your nails

“What is it” you ask again now looking at your phone since you didn’t hear Johnny reply

“I think you sent something to my address” Johnny said while showing the package in the camera

“Ooohh!!! I was wondering where that went, I thought they forgot to send it and was going to request a refund” You said while looking at the logo on the package

“Do you want me to drive over and give it to you?” Johnny put the package down and looked around for his keys

An idea popped into your head

“no no no” you frantically say as he pauses and waits for you to continue your sentence

“Try them on for me” you say

There was a pregnant pause

“I think those polish fumes are getting to your head darling” Johnny chuckled

“I’m deadass” you said as you put on your most serious face as you stare into the camera as Johnny stares back at you

“Babe I-“ Johnny was about to start before cut off by a

“AHHHH PLEASE PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP!! YOU WONT HAVE TO BUY ME LUNCH FOR THE WHOLE WEEK PLEASE I PROMISE I PROMISE JUST THIS ONE THING UGHHH” you screamed into the phone

Johnny knew you were lying about the lunch because he knows how you get when you’re hungry

Johnny rolled his eyes and told you to hush and you did

“Fine WOMAN! I will put the clothes on mkay” he said with a tight lip

You smiled “prop the camera up so I can get a full body image, it’ll help me image it on myself”

Johnny does what you ask and opens up the package

“Dear God woman, where and why did you even buy these clothes??” Johnny said confused and scared as he picked up a few articles of clothing

“I was just browsing and seeing what I might like to see myself in. Now enough questions, get on with the get down okay?” You said as you put yourself in cross cross apple sauce position and watched Johnny changed

As Johnny was about to lift his shirt he caught a glimpse of you looking like a mad woman in the camera

Eyes wide , staring deep into the camera, and breathing deeply

“Back up, damn. Creeping me the fuck out” Johnny said while letting go of his shirt and about to cover his camera

“ ILL CLOSE MY EYES” you said as you saw his hand

Johnny rolled his eyes

“You better” he said and went back to changing

“No promises tho…” you shut your eyes peeking a bit

“Huh???” Johnny said

“They’re closed” you said irritatedly, but nevertheless closed your eyes fully

In the midst of you eyes being closed and rocking your self side to side

You hear a bunch of “my gods” “would this even fit?” “my body would swallow this” “trashy” “ooo a wig” “why is my nipple on display?” “THONG?!”

“Hurry up” you said impatiently as you hear him grumble his complaints

“I’m almost done, hush! You can’t rush art” you hear him smack his lips

“Okay andddddddd done” you hear Johnny say out of breath

You open your eyes

“Good God” You say aloud and cover your mouth to stop the giggles from erupting from your body

“Speechless? I know babe” Johnny said as he bit his lips and rubbed his hands together

Visual: Johnny is wearing a pink crop top with some short shorts , with a white fur coat and a purple bob wig to match

As tears begin to fall down your eyes and the laughter managed to escape your mouth

Johnny gave you a full blown show

I’m talking twirling, strutting towards the camera, twerking a little bit

You even put on beez in the trap by Nicki Minaj to give him the all experience bad bitch vibe

“BITCHES AINT SHIT AND THEY AINT SAYING NOTHIN!!” You yelled out while you got up and starting dancing

“YOU BETTER EAT JOHNNY!! YOU BETTER WORK!!!” You yelled in the camera as Johnny started dancing along with the lyrics

As the music came to an end, you hear the door open from the Johnnys side of the phone

Immediately Johnny is frozen in his spot

“Could you pleas-“ you hear a familiar voice and automatically align it with Simon (Johnnys roommate)

There was a pause in his sentence, as he continues

“Playing a little bit of dress up?”

“Yeah…” Johnny replied

“good, good, It’s good to pretend” you hear Simon say

You cough awkwardly

“You look beautiful” Simon chuckles out

“Oh fuck off and get out” Johnny yelled out and went to close his door and lock it

“Please keep it down Princess” you heard Simon yell behind the door

You’re having a giggling fit as Johnny picked up his phone and looked at you

“Never again” Johnny says

“Okay okay, I promise” you replied with a smile

[aztarion]

WIP WEDNESDAY THURSDAY almost friday whatever day yayyy

tagged by most beloved @nsewell <33

(again im going off moots i've seen share art and writing so ignore/kill me with hammers if you hate these..)

ill tag @nat-seal-well @scalproie @devilbrakers @dietgabbana @recents @nightwardenminthara @serenpedac @agentnatesewell @kazamajun @nerdferatum and anybody who wandered in here… tag me if you post something & ill know to tag you in the future :D

thought id try do this before it turned into friday for me :D another cheesy snippet from that halloween abandoned farmhouse fic i posted last time too (takes place before that scene) -- its a bit longer bc my art wips are atrocious right now but adam jumpscare at the bottom!

---

It is with not an insignificant amount of restraint – really, Nate would be singing his high praise – that Mason stops, bites down on his cigarette, and turns away, recollecting himself enough to smooth his hackles into something resembling human civility.

He flicks the butt underfoot and stomps, twice. He rolls his shoulders. He sets his jaw. He sniffs.

Precipitation forming in the clouds overhead; temperature is ten degrees from chilly; slight, invariable breeze. Less birdsong today. Huh. More pollen. An overwhelming scent of pine, and an aftertaste of salt and smog, even this far out from Wayhaven town and the neighboring city. He clicks his tongue.

And, oh, of course — of fucking course. He forgot to cut the label off this goddamn fucking shirt and the way it’s grazing against his neck is enough to drive him back on the verge of a goddamn fucking frenzy.

“Dev!” Felix whoops.

Mason whips around so fast the movement upends leaves in the brush. With precise, fluted tunnel vision, grey eyes narrow in on her.

Deva marches towards them on uneven, thickly reeded ground from the opposite side of the small clearing. The sky, bruising into evening, gasps in a narrow ark behind her, cold kissing her nose and cheeks, turning pale olive to petal pink.

She blows out a breath, picking up her pace. It’s still not quick enough for him — like she’s galloping in sap. Mason stifles the almost-tremoring need to meet her halfway.

“Hey,” she calls in greeting, mid-battle with bog tree roots.

“Get a move on,” Mason barks. Felix snickers conspiratorially beside him.

“Hurry, Dev, I think he’s gonna blow.”

Mason rounds on the shorter vampire, who grins with porcelain-white veracity, but his stewing annoyance dissipates as quickly as it elevated when warm fingers envelope his, shelling his senses in unblooming, noiseless absolution. He shudders, not quite able to quell the flood of relief.

“Where’s Nate?” Dev asks after a moment, as if giving his body time to settle. Almost like she knew.

“Decided to wait with Adam back at the facility,” Felix says, pulling absently on the periwinkle strings of his periwinkle hoodie. He throws a face that tells her exactly what he thinks of Nate’s decision.

“Leaving you two without a referee?” Deva smiles easily. Felix mirrors it — with an extra flash of fiend.

“You’re late,” Mason cuts in.

“Nice Adam impression, he usually goes a little lighter on the murderous intent.” She squeezes his hand — it’s a gentle tease – before adding, “Car trouble. So, what’s the plan?”

Mason rolls his eyes and doesn’t even bother asking after that wreck-on-wheels this time. Deva’s in one piece — that’s good enough for him.

Felix points at Mason, who removes something small from his jacket pocket with his free hand. He offers it to her, rather unceremoniously.

“Radio,” he says. “Put it on.”

“We’re splitting up too?” Dark brows raise as she stares at the tiny device deposited in her palm.

“Eh, kinda. I’m supposed to scout ahead,” says Felix, tapping at his own matching earpiece. “Last team the Agency sent said it was all clear, but you know what Adam’s like with precautions.”

“It’s just a follow up, right? Back at the old farm house?” Raking swathes of black hair out of her face, Deva hooks the dainty plastic cuff around cartilage as Felix begins to fill her in. Mason still hasn’t really gotten used to the new cut. Change always threw him.

When they’d met, right up until after all the bullshit with that no-count shitheel auctioneer, Deva’s hair had almost been down to her ass. Now it just about reaches her chin – much shorter than his, even. It tends to draw his full attention to the long sweep of her neck on more than one occasion. Right now, in fact, he finds himself casually admiring the two small, purpling hickies he’d left her with just the night before.

Yeah. Maybe he liked the new hair. Maybe he really liked it.

“Helloooo?” Felix flaps his hand wildly in Mason’s direct line of sight, ripping him from some quickly unspooling, sweaty thoughts. “Are you even listeni–?”

“No,” Mason says plainly, fixing him with a glare. Felix pulls another face, then blows out a long breath.

“Ugh, whatever. I hate being the responsible one. Just make sure nobody kidnaps Dev. Again.”

Dev frowns.

“I think I prefer Adam’s pep talks before a mission.”

---

do feel free to critique if u want/have time to, im rusty af and i know it . & a sketchy adam referenced from john cena in a babydoll tee from some movie that crossed my dash yesterday

[sugar-omi]

Omg I love your mermaid!Cove! Can I request some more please? 🩵

surprisingly i have many ideas on mer!cove lol, i didnt think i did but this is so long!! so enjoy<3 tysm for the ask anon, im glad you liked my mer!cover hehe<33

tags : Fluff, headcanons

eta a bit on cove w sharp teeth <3

mmm... merman cove is so pretty even in human form

in human form, he has scales in a few places

down the side of his hips to the top of his thighs and a few straglers on his ankles

his scales are blue and green. they're iridescent as well, super pretty

the closer to his chest, the lighter his scales are but there's still some dark ones around his hips that are more like a navy blue

his fins are probably on the greener side as well, and im thinking more translucent too

i looked at some fanart, i think his tail would be more on the "capey" side as well

and if i can go as far as you link you to this beautiful kokomi fanart by nataliadsw on twitter: here

in fact i'd even say the fins are like in the art! very sparkly and pretty

how do we feel abt a purple to light blue gradient?

i was thinking abt his ears too n yk how some ppl draw mermaids with fins for ears or whatever?

i think his ears are long like an elf, but the tips have a blue-to-flesh gradient. maybe even

lots of pretty piercings!! has gold and pearls in his ears.

ETA BC I TOTALLY FORGOT ABT THIS

BUT COVE HAS SHARP TEETH <333

well, sharp canines anyway

kinda like this photo: here

imagine his lil sharp smile..... i love him

also don't ask me how he shifts. bc i have no idea

as far as I'm concerned he's like a fucking Dino capsule that you drop in water and inflates

LIKE A FUCKING ORBEEZ

okay that settles it, that's what we're going with LMAO

oh my god

before i forget.. mer cove is Big

know how i said orc!derek was like 7 foot?

cove is like 7 foot 2 or some shit

idk, but derek has competition!!

i don't think that's the normal height for mer-people either. well. not mermaids anyway. orcas and whales? for sure

he has claws as well!! he tries to keep them short bc he's clumsy but he has em

ykw i didn't considered webbed hands.... is that an idea?

...nah. i think his tail makes up for it since i imagine cove is missing some key mermaid qualities due to being part human

in his human form he has the claws as well

back to the big, 7 foot thing!!!

cove has big hands as well, of course in his mer form but also in his human form

even in his human form he's still over 6'5

lots of piercings in his ears. has studs in his ear lobes and has a chain connecting his helix and his stud on one of his ears

a chain of pearls on his wrist!!!!

oh. my. god.

waist chains.

of course he doesn't wear these nice shiny all at once lol, he's not into being blinged out like that, but wears any jewelry he's gifted all the time <33

wears waist chain's mostly when he's in human form, since he doesn't have any fins getting caught or evil pirates to worry about

!!! i almost forgot

he brings you many many gifts

he's like a puppy this way

you have jars of shells and sand, some sand different colors from certain beaches he's visited.

cove even brought you your own string of pearls, and you have mini towers of different colored sea glass

so many gifts that you have a whole book case for them and even then some things spill into other areas of the house

whether or not you met cove at a young age, i think you start to understand what all his different chirps and sounds mean

like a few quick chirps are a sign of happiness

i even imagine he purrs like a cat so he'll put your hand to his heart and let you feel the rumble of his chest

or he'll nuzzle your cheek and you can hear it in your ear <33

[multi-lefaiye]

the birth of a son - short story

oh my god i forgot to post this here. anyway this is the short story i wrote recently about my boy eden <3 this is a lil thing all about the first time he summons/creates his homunculus, eddie!

eddie is a physical manifestation of part of eden's soul, in the form of a little imp with sharp lil teeth. he's cute <3

this is based in the original campaign eden was created for and specifically mentions the other players towards the end!

anyway. uh. i feel a bit awkward tagging the whole art taglist for this one oops, so i'm just gonna tag some folks i think would be interested :'> (no pressure to any of you to read this <3) (if you'd rather i not tag you in stuff like this, pls let me know!)

@skitzo-kero @anexor @moonflowerrss @paradoxspir1t @albatris @invaderskoodge @vacantgodling @jezifster @kk7-rbs @corvus-rose

--

After slipping away from the rest of his ragtag little group at breakfast, it takes Eden around twenty minutes of searching before he finds a spot in the fairgrounds to practice his magic.

He’d thought it would be easier, but it seems that everywhere he turns, someone on the staff is there, taking up valuable space while they mingle and chatter. They all seem nice enough, sure, but the consistent lack of privacy has Eden’s skin prickling with unease.

Of course, in the back of Eden’s mind, he knows he hasn’t had true privacy in some time now. Perhaps he never will again.

(He absently flexes the fingers of his right hand at the thought, feeling white-hot sparks of energy crackle between them.)

But now is not the time to dwell on that.

Soon enough, Eden finds a place to hide, a small nook behind one of the larger tents. Separated from the outside by a thin, beaded curtain, it’s hardly much at first glance: just a low bench with red cushions, a single table, and a lantern bathing the space in a warm, flickering light.

This must be a place for performers to wait for their turn to go onstage. It’s decently comfortable-looking, after all, and just out of sight. Or perhaps it’s somewhere for crew members to take a break, sipping a drink away from the hot sun. Maybe it’s-

He’s getting off-track. Who fucking cares what it’s normally used for? It’ll do for his purposes, and that’s what matters.

Eden lets the curtain fall closed behind him and takes a seat on the bench, ignoring the twinge of pain in his knees as he sinks down. The cushion is thick and comfortable, sinking only slightly under his weight as he gets settled. It almost makes him uneasy for reasons he doesn’t know how to articulate, but he chooses to put that out of his mind. That’s not important.

What’s important is the gem hidden in his pocket, a glimmering black opal. It’s small, only a little bigger than a marble, but it’s worth more than its weight in gold. If he were so inclined, he could sell this marble and, presumably, live comfortably for decades to come.

(At least, that was what that ringmaster fuck had told him when Eden had explained what he needs for this spell. He isn’t sure how much he trusts that fucking freak’s assurances on anything, but that’s not the point. Like the room and the strangely disquieting bench, the marble will work for what Eden needs.)

Eden takes the marble out, staring down at it as he rubs it lightly with one clawed finger. At first glance, the gem’s surface is smooth and inky black, but as he stares closer he sees flecks of other colors hidden in the darkness. Shining yellows, vibrant greens, burning reds, icy blues, and dozens more all swirling together. It’s beautiful, Eden supposes, but he’s never been a particularly good judge of that sort of thing. It almost reminds him of-

The thought dies a swift death before it can finish forming. He needs to stop stalling and letting his mind wander. He has work to do.

With that in mind, Eden holds up the opal, allowing it to catch the light from the lantern, and closes his eyes. Then, in a low voice, he begins to speak, the long-forgotten words falling off his tongue with practiced ease.

“Ex hac gemmā, nāscere, homuncule.”

As he speaks, he feels the gem grow warm between his fingers, vibrating as each word washes over it. All at once, the air in the alcove seems to warm by several degrees, the air around Eden’s head swirling and churning with potential. Eden’s breath slows, and he opens his hand, allowing the opal to float slowly upward. He says the words again.

“Ex hac gemmā, nāscere, homuncule.”

There’s a loud crackle in the air, deafening in the otherwise silent space, and something deep inside Eden’s chest aches. His heart is pounding behind his ribs, a trapped bird desperately trying to escape its cage, and for one brief, hysterical moment, he fears it’s going to burst. But rather than frighten him, the knowledge only sends a thrill through him. And he says the words again, one more time.

“Ex hac gemmā, nāscere, homuncule!”

As he says the words one final time, his eyes fly open, glowing white, and watches as the gem pops. He feels a burst of agonizing, searing pain in his gut, strong enough to make him double over and bite back a shout, as the opal shatters in a shower of white and gold sparks. The flame in the lantern snuffs itself out, plunging the little nook in darkness, and all at once the air is still, silent, and cold.

Eden lets out a shaky breath. The pain is beginning to fade, but he rubs his abdomen for a moment nonetheless. It’s never hurt that much to perform this spell before, but he chalks that up to how long it’s been. After all, he last summoned the creature when he was still in university, finishing his doctorate.

“Doc?”

Eden lifts his head, eyes wide as he stares at the little creature sitting on the table before him. It’s small, just enough to fit in the palm of his hand, and looking up at him with its head tilted to the side. He can’t discern its features in the darkness, though, and that just won’t do. Almost unconsciously, Eden lifts a hand and snaps his fingers at the lantern, willing it to light again as he casts produce flame. It does so with a flash of gold, and once again the room is bathed in low, warm light. Despite that, it feels strangely cold.

He hardly notices, though, instead turning his attention to fully regard the creature looking up at him--his homunculus.

The homunculus looks different from how he remembers him, but at first it takes a moment for Eden to figure out what’s wrong. He looks mostly the same. Small, bipedal, with hind legs like a rat. Two nubby horns. Pointed ears. Mop of curly golden hair, hanging just past his tiny shoulders. Bat-like wings, connected to his forelimbs the same way. Sharp claws. Round, humanoid facial features. Short tail. Fluffy-

It’s then that it strikes Eden what’s wrong. The homunculus is covered in a fine layer of lavender fur, only broken up by patches of scales on his face and legs. That’s new.

The homunculus blinks at him, then smirks wryly as he tilts his head to the other side, like a puppy. “What’s wrong, Doc?” he asks, his voice just as high-pitched as Eden remembers. “You forget how to talk?”

He’s just as rude as Eden remembers, at least, and the realization is such a relief that he laughs, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“No,” he says, “I was just making sure you didn’t come out dangerously deformed this time. You’re no use to me if you die after five minutes.” The homunculus scoffs, offended.

“I’ll have you know, any problems in my physical form are your fault, as the alchemist in this situation,” he says matter-of-factly. “You should know that, Doc. That’s the first thing they teach you at that stupid magic college. Or did you lose your fuckin’ brain cells when you graduated?”

“I can send you right back,” Eden reminds him, reaching out to flick the little creature. “Don’t sass me, brat.” It’s an empty threat, and it seems they both know it, if the way the homunculus’ eyes light up are any indication.

“Yes, yes, go ahead!” he squeaks, flapping his wings as he swats at Eden’s hand. He seems to be balancing well, not swaying even slightly as he bats at Eden. “Waste the precious resources you used to summon me!” Eden reaches around to poke at the homunculus’ back, grinning at the indignant squeal he receives in response.

“Motor skills look good so far,” Eden hums thoughtfully. “And, clearly, not existing for 634 years hasn’t done anything to your cognitive ability.”

“Why would it have?” the homunculus drawls. “You look like you’re doing fine.” If he’s surprised to hear how long it’s been since he was last summoned, it doesn’t show on his face.

“Fair point,” Eden agrees. He knows the homunculus is created from the essence of his very soul, so perhaps it isn’t too surprising that the little freak is doing just fine. After all, occasional aches and pains aside, Eden’s been remarkably unaffected by his own resurrection. Though… if the creature came from his soul, is that why it’s covered in fur this time?

Perhaps the curse has more of a grip on me than I thought.

It’s a disquieting realization, but Eden puts it to the side for now. He has more pressing concerns, like catching up with the homunculus.

“Things have changed since you were last here,” he begins, reaching out one hand. The homunculus has the audacity to look offended, rolling his eyes as he climbs onto Eden’s outstretched palm.

“No shit,” he says. “For one thing, you look--and smell--a lot more like a corpse than usual. When’s the last time you took a shower?” Despite his grumbling, the homunculus gladly clambers up Eden’s arm, digging in his tiny claws to keep his balance, before settling on the tiefling’s shoulder. “And when’s the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”

“Fuck you, I’m perfectly fine.” Eden flicks the creature’s nose, smiling as the homunculus nips his fingers in response. The creature’s teeth are sharp, but far too small to cause any more pain than a slight prickling sensation. It reminds Eden of a teething puppy.

“Anyway,” Eden continues, “that’s not the point. I’ve been… traveling, let’s say, so you’re gonna have to get used to that while you’re sticking around.” He can’t imagine that’s going to be a problem--the homunculus is a notoriously adaptable creature. Really, all the creature needs is food to eat, a place to sleep, the chance to relieve himself on occasion, and the presence of his creator.

“Eh,” the homunculus says, “that’s okay. Didn’t think you were the adventuring type, but whatever.” He’s making himself comfortable on Eden’s shoulder, curling his tail around himself. “That why you smell bad?”

“I don’t smell bad,” Eden says. He moves on before the creature can protest, shifting his stature automatically to account for the additional weight on his shoulder. His joints ache at the movement, but he ignores them. “Anyway, I’ve also been doing a lot of fighting. There’s a lot of things that want me dead, turns out, and we both know that you aren’t built to handle a situation like that.”

“I could be,” the homunculus offers. “I could bite the shit out of someone. I could kill them. I could disembowel them with my powerful fangs-”

“You couldn’t bite through the skin of an apple without help,” Eden tells him. “Stop lying.” In response, the homunculus bites his neck, only serving to prove Eden’s point as the action prompts nothing more than a snort. “You’re not helping your case here.”

“I hate you,” the homunculus grumbles. “You’re the meanest alchemist alive, Doc.” He settles down on Eden’s shoulder, curling up like a little kitten. “You’re so mean to me, your only son.”

“That I am,” Eden agrees, ignoring the way something in his chest flutters at the homunculus referring to himself as Eden’s son. He’ll have to remind him not to do that. “Anyway, we’ll have to figure out a plan to keep you out of the fray the next time a fight happens, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” The homunculus hums in agreement. It seems the creature’s initial burst of energy is waning, and now it seems to be growing tired.

“Anything else, Doc?” the homunculus asks. “Or can I take a nap? Being born is very tiring, you know.” Eden hesitates briefly before he answers.

“Well,” he says, “I’m traveling with some new… friends. I should give you a primer on them before you meet them, so you don’t embarrass both of us.” The homunculus lifts his head to shoot Eden a dirty glare. Before the creature can protest, though, Eden continues. “Look, I can already tell some of them are going to adore you, you annoying shithead, but the other ones would probably gladly swat you like a fly if you get too close.” At that, the homunculus’ eyes widen in unease.

“You have bad taste in friends, if they’d kill a piece of you that quickly,” the homunculus tells him gravely. It’s Eden’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Stop being dramatic,” he warns the creature. “I just mean that you’re an annoying little gnat. If any of them wanted to smack you for it, I probably wouldn’t be able to stop them.” That doesn’t seem to offer the creature any comfort, but he nods.

“Okay,” the homunculus says. “Alright. Tell me about them. I need to know which ones to avoid.”

And so he does. He starts from the beginning, telling the homunculus about each new ally in order of meeting them.

Pevier, the gentle aasimar. Naive at times, sometimes frustratingly so, but full of a genuine desire to help and do good that Eden can’t help but admire. At times, Eden believes Pevier doesn’t deserve to be here, but he supposes that just speaks to the cruelty of the world they’re in. It may be impossible to do forever, considering the threats they face, but Eden wants to protect that naivete, if he can.

Hyndrol, the sharp-witted elf. Clever and quick on her feet and with her words, trading barbs with Eden with an ease that makes him feel remarkably at home just as much as it drives him up the wall. He can tell she has her secrets, but he can’t exactly begrudge her that, all things considered (after all, they’re all hiding one thing or another). She’s loyal to the end when it matters, for better or for worse, and he respects that.

Barley, the cursed tabaxi. Unlike anything Eden has ever seen in his life, with a charming smile and a ferocity boiling just beneath the surface that has him deeply curious. Eden genuinely cares about what Barley thinks of him, much more than he has with anyone in a long time, and the realization makes him deeply uncomfortable. He can’t quite escape the feeling that he’s not measuring up, no matter how hard he tries.

Strata, the powerful dragonborn. Tall and brutal, overwhelming in her strength and awe-inspiring to see in action, and remarkably intimidating even when relaxed. Eden normally wouldn’t put much thought into the feelings of someone he’s known for such a short amount of time, but he can only imagine how strange this all is for her, a literal fish out of water in a world that thinks her kind is extinct. He admires her strength, physically and otherwise, but he’s sure the feeling isn’t mutual. No matter. As long as Strata stays with the group, Eden can accept her disdain.

And, finally, James, the mysterious elf, the newcomer. Dark and intriguing, cloaked in shadow despite his generally friendly demeanor. Eden still isn’t completely sure what possessed him to approach the stranger with the offer of joining them at the circus, aside from sheer impulsiveness and a need for someone to want him around, but here he is nonetheless. He seems decent enough, but… well. Time will tell how poor that decision turns out to be, Eden supposes, but if nothing else, he seems like a good ally for now.

Predictably, most of the nuances of Eden’s relationships with his new friends go over the homunculus’ head. All the creature cares about, of course, is how easily he’ll be able to convince each of them to pat his head and give him apple slices.

“You’ll get to meet them soon enough,” Eden sighs. Absently, he lifts one hand to stroke the creature’s back, smiling despite himself at the ragged little purr he receives in response. “And you can get started on your diabolical scheming to kill me in my sleep and take my place.”

“Sounds like a plan!” the homunculus chirps, nuzzling his hand. “Give it a week! They’ll like me better in no time.” He then yawns. “But… wanna sleep right now. We can meet ‘em later.” He closes his eyes, making himself cozy, and then reconsiders after a moment, opening one eye to look at Eden curiously. “... No. Sleep now. Then food. Then friends. I haven’t eaten in 600 years.”

“You haven’t existed in 600 years,” Eden points out. “You haven’t had a stomach to feed.” The only response he receives is a quiet little snore, and he huffs a sigh, rolling his eyes fondly. Still, he settles back into the bench, letting the creature snooze on his shoulder.

He can find everyone again later. For now, he can just enjoy some peace and quiet with his creation.

[cherrysmokesaconha]

// rant

Being in a fandom where 90% of it sees 2004/2005 Tord as a uwu teenager just because of a fucking FANON SHITASS HEADCANON, while me being a person who hcs him as MATURE ADULT (and also with some fankids) makes me feel like a fucking ALIEN.

It makes me sick that u almost don't have good food on here. Everytime I look in the #2004 tord tag when there's new stuff, It's just shit depicting him as a teenager or adding uwu pimples to him like CMON LET MY MAN PAY TAXES AND KISS ON THE MOUTH PLEASE (edit: idm people who hc him as an adult and add pimples to him since I think adults can also have pimples, but I'm mostly talking abt the teen hc)

"oh but Tord was born in 1989-" BULLSHIT. DOGSHIT. GIRAFFESHIT. THE REAL PERSON BORNED IN 1989 THE CHARACTER DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A CANON AGE GODDAMNIT. Edit: The only thing that could prove that the character ACTUALLY was born in 1989 was his grave on Zombeh Attack 2, but that eddisode was made way before the characters got separated from the real people + nowadays they have a fictional canonical birthday dates where year of birth is not specified, which makes them have a canon vague age. (Confirmed by OblivionDowning in Twitter btw)

I specially really love 2004 Tord from the Christmas Special, where he doesn't have horns. And I almost never saw an art of this Tord which NOT depicted him as a teen. I NEVER saw it. Most of those arts (which depicts him as an adult) are made by ME and MOSTLY ME. GODDAMNIT </3 (ofc there's some arts that shows him as an adult but there are very few)

And the fact that people will pull out this shitass "hE's A TeEn!1!!1!1" card when they see an art MINIMALLY suggestive IS sooooooo stupid. This headcanon (alongside with the "Pau and Pat are Tord's parents" hc) literally BRAINWASHED THIS FANDOM AND NOBODY SAYS AN A ABOUT IT.

It's funny that people can draw 2005 Edd and 2005 Tom making out and no one says a thing, but when it comes to Tord, they automatically pulls the teenager card like, BRO FUCK YOU AND YOUR SHIT HEADCANON FUCK OFF/NEG

I'm so sorry for ranting, but I am TIRED. It's tiring to have a different hc and feel like a target because of a headcanon that people assume that it's canon. Please do a research for the love of God </3

(ps cuz I forgot this: I'm not saying that you can't have the teen hc for yourself or even feel uncomfy with ppl drawing him as an adult, that's totally fine! That's your opinion and ur boundaries and it should be respected. But you can't just appear out of nowhere on someone's account and force them into this headcanon. Saying like "isn't he a minor on that era?" or even "he's a teenager..." makes the artist feel bad, SPECIALLY WHEN THEY HC THE CHARACTER AS AN ADULT. You're literally accusing someone who has a different hc than you a p3dophile. That's awful, boring and demotivating. Please don't do that. Think before you speak.)

[bl00dngh0uls]

wh0 is the best OC youve ever created hand down and like a total list of all OCS

I wanted to wait to answer this until I had a digital artwork completed of every OC that I have, bc a lot of them I’ve only ever hand drawn (my favorite ,, I love me some good pencil to paper art)

But , I figured I’d be waiting forever, bc with so much going on, and so many other drawing projects I have in the works, this ask would be long forgotten until I saw it in my inbox months down the road and went oh fuck me ,, I forgot to do that.

Sooo , to answer the first part of the question, I don’t think I have a ‘best OC’, because I literally love all my sweet babies so much. They all have their beautiful qualities, and all have their lil garbage ones. They’re all such well rounded characters HHHH, and I want to squeeze them all to death in my arms in one giant group hug.

They would probably hate/fear me if they ever were actually in my presence because, well, I’ve put all of them through some pretty fucked up shit. Some worse than others LOL.

I will now compile a list of all my OC’s.

(I continue to ramble)

Later, I will be adding drawings of my darlings, as I so please, in whatever order, because I really want to try and make my tumblr more of a space for my OC shit. If I could someday get asks directed towards specific OC’s of mine,,,, that,.. would be a dream come true .

But, yaknow, in order to do that, I gotta get on top of actually posting art,, hhhha , that is a goal of mine for the rest of this year, into the following, and forever HAHA ,,my goal is always more art

SO ,, here we go. I’m going to list them in order of creation. (As best I can,, I started making OCs like,, fuck,, 12 years ago almost?? Some were lost along the way.. some were made so close to one another that I don’t know which came first)

1: Thomas James Burns🖤 age: 19

2: Kyle Frederick Hunt🖤 age: 29

3: Lucifer/Lilith🖤 age: n/a

4: Jehovah🖤 age: n/a

5: Esteban De La Cruz🖤 age: 37

6: Percival (Percy) Chauncey Palmer🖤 age: 21

7: Donovan Christian Bell🖤 age: 23

8: Joon Seo Woo🖤 age: 24

9: Ikeda Noboru🖤 age: 40

*Uhm also I have a bunch of OCs that were made to be in the specific stories of these characters,, so this is just a list of the ✨mains✨

Also I’m vvvvery aware that this is a bare minimum list,, just names and ages lol ,, uhm I just want to add a picture of each of them for a better description. So you can see them aaaand get a lil background info on them. I’ll probably start doing a few of those tonight~

Gonna tag all future OC posts with #MYOCDUMP so I can look through all of my own OC shit on my blog like a noob

[dichromaticdyke]

🗣 – What are your own personal HCs for HF!S and HM!T?

Also, what about the other girls? Murderface feels like another butch, almost try hardy, but I also see her as not having a label at all because she's trying to give herself as much as a chance to get laid by a pretty girl. Pickles feels more fem. Not Skwisgaar fem but definitely fem. She's a "Marlboro Reds and Whiskey" kind of gal, probably doesn't know the word shame. And Nathan, I feel like she's undecided, like she found an aesthetic that works for her but she wants to venture out but is too scared of being made fun of, so she's stuck in a comfortable place, but she wants to explore what else is out there.

ohhhhh my gosh so there’s a lot because. i have my own personal dykeklok headcanons, and this lipstick lesbian skwisgaar and hey mamas toki is kind of its own separate thing. i’ll put it all under the cut because there’s a LOT.

so in the hey mamas tokiverse that @god-impeaching-dj and i have been cooking, i’ve actually been imagining skwisgaar and toki as the only lesbians in the group. the rest of the band are men and they don’t know if whatever the fuck skwistok has going on is a lesbian thing or a scandinavian thing. toki calls skwisgaar her princess and skwisgaar calls toki her daddy because OF course they would, head in hands. we’ve narrowed down their aesthetics pretty well, skwis is kind of pastel goth inspired, she wears pink and black nails, she has heart-shaped nipple piercings, everything!! toki is. basketball shorts. grey sweatpants. sports bra. snapback. she still has her mustache though!!! and kandi has been using rhea ripley as a body ref for their art of toki 😍😍. they’re the worst most annoying tiktok lesbian couple of all time, totally cringe.

as for my dykeklok headcanons, they’re COMPLETELY different. i have them all written up somewhere, but i don’t wanna find them lmfao. the long and short of it is that in my dykeklok/dragklok universe (which is the universe i wrote in for dethentine’s wheeeeee), they’re all lesbians but they perform and make public appearances in drag as drag kings. but that’s a secret to the public!!! they do it because misogyny in the metal community RIP. but also then no one will recognize them when they’re just at food libraries or whatever. and i refer to them like this:

Natalie Explosion (transmasc, she/they/he, order of preference)

Pickles the Drummer (transmasc, he/she, no preference)

Wilamina Murderface (transfem, she/her/doesn’t care)

Skwisgaar Skwigelf (transmasc, any/all)

Toki Wartooth (transfem, he/she/they, order of preference)

nat started speaking in a death growl to avoid being clocked for her voice. pickles thought she was a trans man in the snb days but detransitioned just a bit afterwards (still kept the goatee). murderface didn’t figure out she was a trans woman for a while because she didn’t know you could be trans AND gay. skwisgaar is queen of the butch who gets mistaken for a twink by gay guys. toki went on E just to get top surgery. a lot of these are inspired by lesbians i’ve known in some way or another ✨ love the lesbian experience. and yknow it’s definitely hard for me to pin them down as butch or femme. because the butch/femme experience is SO unique and SO important to a lot of people (myself included) but it’s also not the only way to be a lesbian. there’s a reason that in the hey mamas tokiverse, i refer to skwisgaar as a lipstick lesbian and pillow princess instead of high femme. i reblogged a poem about the difference between the a lipstick lesbian and a femme lesbian at some point, it’s in my femme tag (as a butch i don’t feel totally comfortable trying to explain it, i’ll let the femmes speak for themselves 🩷). i do think they could all be different flavors of butch or masc though, even skwisgaar. i’d just really have to think about it and try to nail down my designs (I DON’T DRAW BUT I’M TRYING).

oh i forgot, every version of lesbian skwisgaar has a double venus tattoo on her hip. and her favorite thing to say is “don’ts dies wonderinks”. GOD. 🥰🥰🥰

[deepbutdazzlingdarkness]

I think @kennyomegasweave tagged me in this OTP meme like...months ago? And I just found it half-finished in my drafts and decided to actually get it done.

1. What ship were you completely obsessed with when you were a teenager, but now you don't care anymore? 20s, not my teens, but I used to be utterly obsessed with Jack/Kent from Check Please and now, IDEK what happened. I still love them, but I have old fic I saved and never read and can't bring myself to care anymore. IDK it makes me sad.

2. Which ship would you consider your first one? Hmm probably Betsy/Joe from the Betsy Tacy series or Anne/Gilbert from Anne of Green Gables? My first ships when I actually got into fandom were Sawyer/Kate and Sara/Grissom from CSI.

3. Your first fanfic belonged to which couple? Magnus/Alec!!! I never thought I would write fic and then I watched season 1 of Shadowhunters and banged out (lol) 7 fics and almost 30k of porn in less than 2 months in 2016. They all have an insane number of hits (like. the highest has 54,878 hits and the lowest has 15,836 hits.........) and I still get kudos on them almost every day, it's wild.

4. Do you remember the first couple you saw a fanart over? Genuinely no idea, but the first one in my fan art tag is Katniss/Peeta from 2012 <3

5. Did you ever get into ship discourse? My first instinct whenever I see someone talk about something I don't like is to mute/block, so perhaps not actively, but I'm sure I have at some point.

6. Did you used to have any no-otp or have it currently? LOL. Yes. I still fucking HATE Jack/Kate from Lost and always will. Also Dan/Blair from Gossip Girl. Lately...I'm such a multi-shipper but I gotta say Kate/Anthony from Bridgerton bc I've genuinely had to restrain myself from bitching about how much I hate them SO many times since s3 came out lol.

7. Who were the couple in the last fanfic you read? I finished a rewatch of Beyond Evil last night so I've been rereading some of my old bookmarks bc I've read almost everything that's out there 😔. Shout out to the masterpiece simple & clean by whir.

8. Currently, do you have any OTPs? So many!!! Taemin/Kai is still my #1, but also Juwon/Dongsik from Beyond Evil, PatPran from Bad Buddy (it took me several episodes to actually get into the show but once I did I cried...so much over them and how much they love each other LOL), KunTen from WayV, Louis/Lestat...I feel kinda bad that I don't have a major current f/f OTP but I'm literally checking my kpop tags multiple times a week for rule 63 fic and most of my current WIPs are rule 63 f/f so there's that. (Two KunTen including what hopefully is gonna be a long one, plus a Jigyu I started yesterday for a fest that I'm hoping I'll be able to get done - not because of the length, but because I've never written Seventeen before)

9. Is there any couple that, to this day, you are extremely mad about not getting together? So many??? I feel like I have to say Dean/Cas.......Lee/Kara never really got together so them for sure. Sawyer/Kate from Lost even though I 100% choose to believe they got together post-canon pre-flash-sideways. Oh my god I'm looking through my "forever bitter" tag and it's a lot of Cooper/Audrey from Twin Peaks as I expected, but I forgot about Mini/Franky from Skins. and ABSOLUTELY THEM. Everything about series 5 was terrible but that especially.

10. Is there any ship you used to dislike but now you think they are kind of interesting? IDK I feel like I don't usually change my mind like that. I wouldn't go as far as saying "kind of interesting" but I guess I don't hate Bree/Roger from Outlander AS much on the show as I did in the books lol.

11. Do you have any ship that, in the past, was considered normal but now you would be cancelled over? Hmm...Cesare/Lucrezia maybe? If not them almost definitely Norma/Dylan from Bates Motel LOL.

12. What was your favorite crack ship? I was gonna say I couldn't remember any that truly fit this definition, but then I remembered the Kent Parson/Claude Giroux series #dirtbags and that was great. Actually no my real answer is Syd/Richie from The Bear. Now *I* don't think it's a crackship but they have that vibe.

13. Who is the couple you read more fanfics of? Here's a side by side view of my most bookmarked ships vs the tags I have saved rn on my front page. Unfortunately you can only have 20 but I think it's a pretty good representation. (Other than the ENHA ship, where I legit don't know anything about them or frankly even what they look like, but that tag produces so much incredible unhinged porn that I read canon-blind.)

14. What most of your ships usually have in common? I feel like I have several different ~types, but: friends to lovers, I LOVE bicker-y couples, age gap relationships, especially when one of them is a mentor-ish figure, and power dynamics in general.

15. What do you absolutely hate in a ship? Nice Guy characters, whether they're a guy or a girl. The OG example is Xander (duh) and Chloe from Smallville but you also see it with characters like Sol on My Stand In...there's def more things I hate but that's one of most major ones for me.

[transitat]

The General Nosiness Tag

Tagged by @writerrose1998

A beautiful place you visited that made you very happy (pictures welcome!).

Ilha do Mel (Honey Island) in the south coast of Brazil. It has a broken down fort right on the beach where you can almost feel the history of the place.

A book or written piece of media that made you go "oh yesssss".

I'm very much into poetry, so I just have to mention Richard Siken's Crush. A really good book I read this year is A Dowry of Blood by S. T. Gibson.

Your Spotify top song of the year.

So You Say by No Pressure. Funny story: I bought tickets to see them live in two different cities this year and saw them zero times due to weather and train delays (fuck the Deutsche Bahn).

Your favorite line/paragraph that you've written or an artwork that you're proud of.

Idk why this one had me cackling: Secure in the knowledge that they're all going to hell, Tyler waves his hand at Lucas and Bianca and drives his heels into the horse's flanks. From Nun'a'ya Business.

Your favorite painting/art piece.

This weird painting my grandmother has had forever.

I'm also absolutely obsessed with churches and religious imagery.

A language that sounds beautiful to your ears.

Italian. I really can't get over it.

Rec some fics that you keep going back to.

There are so many, but I find myself often rereading @suchaladyy and @cupoteahatter works.

Please, please share pictures of your pets if you're comfortable with that.

Kings of the trash. Damasco (Apricot) on the brown boxes and Pêssego (Peach) on the mixer. They're 3 year old twins and a bonded pair that I adopted from Bulgaria on ebay.

They have a lot of love and zero braincells.

A happy story from your life.

The time my waifu and I proved we're the stupidest idiots in Europe. We travel a lot to see our favorite bands live but I live in Munich while she lives in Leipzig, so sometimes we just meet at our destination.

We went to Paris to see Bring Me The Horizon and took trains there. I had a connection in Mannheim and was keeping her updated.

"I'm about to get on the train in Mannheim."

"Cool, my train is just pulling up to Mannheim central station, we'll probably get there around the same time," she said.

"Awesome," I replied, still stupid. "I get there around 5pm."

"That's good," she said, also stupid. "We won't have to wait for each other, my train arrives in Paris at 16:55."

"Oh," I reply while waiting to stow my luggage. "We might be on the same train. That would be fate bringing me to thee, lady wife."

"Oh yeah," (note that we're still stupid) "I'm in carriage 17."

"Me too!" I'm trembling in excitement. "What seat?"

"75"

"I'm in seat 74, omggg!!"

Anyway, turns out we'd booked the tickets together about 8 months before and completely forgot that we reserved seats next to each other. It's been 2 years, we're still stupid.

A show or movie that you could rewatch forever.

X-Men: First Class. The soundtrack, the plot, the shots! I've watched it so many times.

[bunitivity]

Oh i get what you mean by writing is hard! Most of what i write i do it for myself not because i think is bad but because its all over the place with no clear plotline, characters jumping from one scene to another with no connection, some scenes described as "something happens idk i didnt think about it". Its all just vibes for me.

Still i think a lot of us would love to see (art or writing) your version of how the polycule got together (theres not many people writing or drawing about them so every artist is gold. NO PRESSURE I mean it, just thanks for the things you share <3)

Oh you’re too nice🥺 but yeah I get you about writing disconnecting scenes that goes nowhere. If you could see how many little scenes I’ve written in my notes app on my phone it’s fucking absurd. But honestly writing that first ot4 thing that was a mixture of stream of consciousness(?) and dialogue tags honestly helped me. It got me out of my funk and now I’m writing AND posting my writing. Which I haven’t done in almost a decade(fuck just realized 2016 is 2 years from being ten years ago fuck). Sometimes things just suck in the beginning until you come back and connect the pieces and sometimes you just have to handwave things. Not everything have to gold. In order for the good bits to stand out you just have to have some average bits you know?

I think I’ll try and work my way up to writing a big ot4 fic someday. For now I’ll just try and hone my skills here and there by writing small little things here and there. Anyways I’m so thankful for all your support and care so here have this smol Sanji for being so nice💕

(This is supposed to be post time skip Sanji I just forgot to apply his facial hair lol anyone wanna guess what he’s saying/happening👀??)

[thyla]

tag game tuesday

tagged by the lovely @userdixon​🖤

tea, coffee, or soda? soda and tea

dogs or cats? at one point i had three cats and four dogs as pets. so both! don’t make me choose. haha

can you play an instrument? does the recorder count? i used to be bomb at it when i was younger.

what's your sun sign? scorpio

first song lyrics that pop into your head? in sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came that voice which calls to me and speaks my name and do i dream again? for now i find the phantom of the opera is there inside my mind

do you have any tattoos? yes. the millennium falcon behind my right ear, the outline of the beast from the beauty and the beast broadway art on my inner right arm, oogie booige on my right forearm, and then i have a whole sleeve on my left arm with is a pirate ship and the waves turns into the hair of the mermaid who is strangling a pirate whom also have a octopus wrapped around him dragging him down and the octopus has a book in his tentacles with my mom’s initials on the spine. oh and almost forgot my first tattoo lol on my back/shoulder is an infinity symbol entwined with the words ‘and beyond’ its a matching one with my sister

favorite place you traveled? ehh, don't really have one. haven’t traveled much.

what's the last movie you watched? school of rock

what languages do you speak? american english.

do you have any hobbies? reading, photoshop, writing

you can hang out with one fictional character for an hour, who do you choose? oh fuck, hmmmmmmm. damn this is hard. okay well, i’m just gonna say eddie. we’d get high and listen to some good ass music. or maybe i can join in a campaign. i’m in such a mood to play games. lol

compliment yourself: i’m a good listener...

tagging: @dickgraaysons @aubreysmaturin @wwitchers @richiebowen @ella-enchanted @kargyle @stormkpr @kkpwnall and whoever wants to play!

[uraniumnm333]

HELP I FORGOT MAJOR LORE WHAT,, okay so like the protagonists are connected to their group from the original pjsk game in one way or another !!

ichika is the main character ofc but she mainly hangs out with honami and helped honamelon and shiho make up their friendship (past platonic breakup,, sadge) while saki also tags in soo they all become friends :DDD

minori is a silly lil witch!!! she is housemates with haruka, who is a hunter and hunts meat hahahaha. she also grew airi, and helps shizuku occasionally! they all meet once a month for a tea party <3

kohane met an first while kitsune an was stealing her bread lolz and then they both met akitoya. which is hilarious btw because toya was the former prince of the other nation so he instantly recognized an and was like "oh you're that wanted thief in my old nation" and an's like "OHSHITOHSHIT" but it's okay because they all become friends

yk the polysho lore,, the rest of wxs falls in love with tsukasa and fall in love with eaachother too

kanade is the receptionist for the knights with the zamuza outfit cause that card SLAPS YOOO and she keeps on seeing these three depressed idiots barge in the most. "return your book now k. thank you." "hi k can you pls give me some art supplies? ik your like a knight and all but yeahh ummmm also tell akito to fuck off tyty!" "HEY BITCH (affectionate) can i have sewing supplies plsplspslsp" it's absolute chaos

and uh, miku's kinda just there watching over everyone. she knows what everyone is.

shiho and akito were childhood friends. because i said so. they both decided to be a knight together. also i don't talk a lot about shiho but she's so aroace we love her.

also a BIG part of the lore (that happened during the main plot with ichika) is that the tenmas were holding an outdoor festival!! like a holiday for them BUT THEN the aoyagis sorta crashed it and turned it into a massacre! rui already got poisoned before this, but here's where akito almost dies and gets stabbed my god. a bunch of commoners died too yeah,,

akito also almost died like years before that from exhaustion. nothing new.

uhm. yeah

WRITE

A

FANFIC

PLEASE

[bunnybythesea]

Most controversial media opinion go

mmm idk how "controversial" my media opinions are. maybe unpopular? but either way buckle up y'all. i am prepared to possibly lose followers.

i think the new monster high cartoon is boring. i will finish season 1 eventually but it is not particularly engaging.

y'all wanna know why i generally hate shippers? 2 ships. seiya x usagi and ichigo x kish. both are problematic but for different reasons. seiya x usagi is so one-sided. like usagi learns that her fiance is basically dead and seiya still doesn't have a chance. and ichigo x kish is popular cuz kish is the sexy bad boy type. he sees ichigo as a toy. he hurts her for his own amusement. that is abuse. it isn't cute.

as cute as a ship wenclair is, i don't have much faith that it will happen. if i'm wrong, awesome!

i don't like cure lovely. her characterization ruined happiness charge precure for me. and fuck the love triangle subplot. it sucked.

why have i never seen star vs the forces of evil? i watched a few episodes then forgot about it. similar thing happened with tangled the animated series. watched the pilot movie and then forgot about it. i will watch both shows eventually.

i enjoyed the charmed reboot and the original series equally. neither series was super interesting.

i never watched adventure time cuz i think the art style is ugly. almost didn't watch amphibia for the same reason. why do anne sasha and marcy have to look like that? it is so unappealing. the other human characters look normal. so why. just why???

i am an avid reader of webtoons and i wish i had someone to talk about them with. i avoid the tags cuz i don't use fast passes. don't wanna get spoiled.

oh! and i skipped the uncle grandpa steven universe crossover episode and i never plan to watch it. EVER.