#there’s like 3 other roughs of this same pose but these are the one I like better

[sokumeii]

I never could settle on how to draw Eulas face

[sugarlywhispers]

ex!b.katsuki x reader ; m.izuku x reader — bakugou cheats on his gf, with midoriya's girlfriend.

☆– warnings; ANGST. mention and description of panic attacks, swear words, cheating (bakugou to reader; uraraka to midoriya), description of a fight. But it ends in fluff~ c;

☆–a.n; honestly, i don't know if i'm going to add another chapter... i still have a bit more of ideas for this, but i don't know ._.

in the meantime, i hope you liked this new part! <3

also, i hope ya'll have a wonderful beggining of 2024!!! may this new year bring lots of good thing for everyone, lots of love and adventures, new amazing things and wonderful people to your lives!

love ya'll so much, wish you all ALL the good things life can bring; no more tears, except happy ones. <3

A few weeks go by, and Midoriya and you keep in touch, texting almost everyday. Talking about random stuff, important stuff, whatever the mood is. But it's mostly cute, random stuff, getting to know each other kind of feeling. It's funny how you both have been around each other for so long and did not actually know one another. 

The texting was cute. Like a picture he sends one afternoon, when his shift is calm and almost finished, when the sun is setting, taken from up high in a building. A beautiful sunset picture that you use as a lock screen wallpaper on your phone. Or that one selfie he sent when he shared patrols with Hero Shoto; you remember thinking how cute he looked posing next to the hot and cold Hero, with two fingers of one of his hands pulled up on a peace sign. Or a picture of a little puppy Hero Deku found on a rainy morning shift. He took it to the closest vet so they could help the little animal, and you find that so fucking heroic it makes your heart jump from the cuteness.

"I wonder… who has you smiling like that? Oh , I know… Mister Greeny," Mineta mocks, his eyebrows shaking up and down suggestively.

"Shut up," you bark and hit him on the upper arm strongly. He simply laughs.

Three months pass faster than you actually realize. You're better, you feel better. You haven't had a single panic attack since Midoriya Izuku entered your life. Which is good… it means good.

He is good.

Since that first Friday you grabbed coffee together, you both decided to make it your day. Each and every Friday morning, Izuku and you would go to grab coffee at that same shop you went to the first time; then he would walk you home as the gentleman he is.

It's Friday and you're waiting for him, it's a bit late already, but you know he is coming. He had a night patrol but he insisted to not break the new tradition - his words. You found it cute, so you didn't protest.

But now you're worried, because it's almost 30 minutes since you have been waiting and he hasn't come yet. Then it becomes 40, 45, 50 minutes. You feel your neck itchy, but you try to ignore it, looking at your phone. Waiting for a notification, waiting for Mid‐ Izuku to contact you. But nothing.

It's already been 1.10 hours long and no sign of him. You sigh and decide to go home, it's been more than an hour already. Probably he had something coming up at the last minute, or he simply forgot. He probably had a rough night and he didn't have time to meet you. You're not as important as his job, obviously.

You grab your things and exit the place, the kind girl behind the counter smiles sadly at you and waves her hand as goodbye. You smile, or at least try, in her direction and leave the coffee shop.

You feel itchy all over. This… This is… weird . Why are you feeling like this? You have no right to feel… disappointed, hurt . He's a Hero. He's freaking Number One, pro hero Deku. His job will always come first. But you can't help it. It's like��

You're not my priority, Y/N. Understand that you'll never be. I have to concentrate in my job if want to fucking be Number one.

You haven't heard his voice in your head for a long time now. And hearing it again is… painful. Hurting. Choking .

Every sound around you feels a hundred times louder as you walk, every light blinds you and you don't realize you're bumping into almost everyone around. The pressure on your neck is getting stronger and you can't breathe. You can't think. Your vision is turning black, like that night at the ramen shop with Mineta. A panic attack . You're having one in the middle of the street. How embarrassing . How pathetic . 

You want the blackness to finally evolve you, and don't let go.

And then you see it, you feel it. Green eyes and strong hands grabbing your shoulders. You know those green eyes, you have seen them before. He's moving his mouth but you can't hear his voice. He looks worried; why is he worried? You feel rough hands that grab your face as softly as he can, and they are cold. You aren't used to the cold, but you like it. It's refreshing.

"...hear me? Y/N, please breathe, okay? Breathe with me," his voice is comforting, so you follow him, you breathe with him. "That's it… You're okay. We are okay."

The sight around you starts to clear, the blackness dissipates and you see clearly. His face is the first thing your eyes find. You know him. "Izuku?"

" Yes! Yes, it's me… Hi, love," he smiles relieved. You look around realizing you're in the middle of a circle, with him. People are watching, some worried, some annoyed. Embarrassing .

You realize then that Izuku's hands are around your face, holding you with no intention of letting go. "Izuku…"

He blinks, realizing then probably your surroundings and nods. "Yes, come one, let's go…"

Izuku helps you stand, his arm surrounding your waist pulling your weight on him so he helps you walk. Everyone starts clapping, clearly recognizing hero Deku even in his civilian clothes.

He walks you to your apartment in silence. Until you walk into the building, "There's no elevator?"

"No, it's been broken since before I got here," you know your voice sounds throaty, and the expression on his face says it worries him.

He sighs looking at the long stairs ahead. He knows you live on the fourth floor. "Okay, then," he says before picking you up, bridal style.

"Izuku! I can walk!"

"No, you can't. You have been putting your weight on me the whole way here."

"Still, I…"

"Shut up. Let me help," his tone it's so authoritative you have no other option than to do that. Shut up and let him help, because you know you wouldn't be able to climb those stairs up on your own even if you tried.

On the way up, you can't avoid watching him. He looks… angry . You have never seen him like that, or better said, you have never experienced his anger, you have seen him angry on the TV, fighting villains.

"I'm sorry," you say, and he stops midway, his eyes traveling to your face.

"You're apologizing for having a panic attack?" He's frowning, his tone incredulous, but serious. It makes tingles run your body.

"I'm… Yes, it's embarrassing ," you feel your voice crack a bit, and you hate that.

"Y/N, it's not embarrassing. It's a trauma response. And it's okay to go through it. But you need to heal…"

You look away from his face, tears already burning your eyes. You can't help but hear his voice again.

Having panic attacks in public is embarrassing, Y/N. You have to control them. Don't be fucking weak.

" He said… he said they were embarrassing."

You know you shouldn't be saying this to Izuku, but you said it even before you could actually think it.

" Who said-…" Izuku stops mid sentence. Takes a deep, deep breath, and continues climbing the stairs in silence. You don't dare look up. He's so tense and angry, you don't really have the courage to witness that right now.

When you arrive at the fourth floor you signal him which one is your apartment. And even when you are in front of the door, he doesn't put you on the ground. He stands there, waiting patiently, as you search for the key card on your bag and when the door is open he enters with you in his arms. He of course takes his shoes off at the entrance and walks inside.

He doesn't say anything as he sits you over the small couch and sits next to you, his arm touching yours and taking almost all the space around you. His smell is around and you like it.

His face is even closer to yours when he asks, worried, "When were you going to tell me you have panic attacks?"

"I… I don't want to bother anyone with them." You tell the truth. You can't lie to him.

"That's what he told you? That they are a bother?" You simply shrug, not really wanting to answer. "Y/N, I'm not angry or feel like this is a bother. I'm worried, you need help."

"I am going to therapy. I've been going since I'm five, Izuku. I had a handle on them, they weren't recurrent until…"

"Until he left you," he finishes for you, slightly shaking his head and you nod.

Izuku sighs, standing up and you watch him. Is he going away? Is he embarrassed and going away, deciding not to involve or do anything with your broken self?

"Do you mind if I make us both tea?"

You shake your head rapidly in answer. He smiles and walks towards the kitchen. You follow his every move, being a small apartment it's easy to do it.

Izuku is… staying . For tea. He's not leaving. He's not leaving you alone after a panic attack. Like Mineta. But he's your best friend, Mineta has always been there; like you have been there for him even after the war he had to be part of at such a young age and he tried to push you away. Izuku doesn't have that obligation. Izuku… is your friend? Well, that's how you like to think of him since you got to know him this past months. But the category of best friend was not there for him yet. You were just getting to know each other. So, why is he here? Why does he stay?

"It's ready," he suddenly says, sitting back next to you with the two mugs of tea. He gives you one and you accept it a bit startled.

The sudden smell of lemon with honey tea that invades your nose as you bring it closer to drink immediately relaxes you. You smile after taking a sip.

You look back at him and he's watching intently at you, like he's waiting for your reaction.

"You remembered," you say and you really want to cry now.

He smiles, a hand flying to the back of his head to scratch it nervously, "You said it was your favorite."

You did. On a text message, when the topic was favorite drinks . But the fact that he remembered that you said it, it is… overwhelming.

Silence again. On your part it's more relaxed, but you can feel him a bit anxious. You decide to give him space, time to say whatever it is that it's inside his mind.

Until he does.

"You're not the only one… struggling still… with all that happened." He says as he sets his mug on the little coffee table in front of you. It's very small, mostly for decoration. Only space for the two mugs you're using at the moment. Izuku then lays his elbows over his knees, fingers fidgeting in the middle clearly showing his nervousness. "I have nightmares. Very bad ones, since the war. Uraraka used to help a lot, she was always there for me when I needed her."

This is the first time he talks about her this willingly, so you just keep silent and give him the space he needs to say whatever he wants.

"I was finally getting better… and then… she wasn't there anymore…"

"The nightmares came back?" He simply nods. You can't help yourself but to direct your hand towards his shoulder in a form of comfort, which he accepts with a small smile.

"I guess… we are two broken people, trying to pick up the pieces left. Aren't we?"

His eyes shine with tears he refuses to set free, probably also what your own looked like. He smiles sadly at you, before patting your hand that still holds his shoulder.

You both stay in silence for a little while before Izuku breaks the silence again.

"I'm sorry about today. I had…" He sighs. "I had a discussion with a partner."

Partner? You know Izuku doesn't have many partners. One is Hero Shoto, who also is his best friend. You doubt he had a discussion with him, you couldn't actually see Shoto in a heated discussion at all. And the other one is… Oh .

"What did he do now?" You don't even have to mention his name. You and Izuku know who you're talking about.

The green-haired man rolls his eyes. "We have been civil. For the sake of everybody around us. And if I'm being honest, we work well together. In fights, we understand each other perfectly. So we decided to just be professional and not bring up anything that happened."

You know this. Izuku had already told you this once, when he called you on his lunch break to talk to you about a cute little butterfly that he would send you the picture of when he was less busy and you heard Bakugou's voice on the back calling for Izuku. They had been on a mission together.

"Until…" Izuku continues, "Until this morning, when he decided to bring up our Friday morning's coffee."

" What?! " You frown. How did he know? Nobody knew, besides Mineta and probably Shoto on Izuku's side. Nobody else knew… unless…

"Paparazzis discovered us. I don't know how. I'm always careful when meeting you. I take a lot of turns and I disguise myself the best I can so they don't recognize me. But they found out." He sighs, a hand sliding his green and black curls back. "They released an article yesterday. About us."

Izuku takes out his phone, searching for something before showing it to you.

NEWLY BACHELOR, NUMBER ONE PRO HERO DEKU, FOUNDS NEW SWEETHEART?

Yes, my readers, this is apparently what it looks like. A young, pretty lady like this caught the attention of the Symbol of Hope quite fast, if you ask for my humble opinion.

We don't have much information about her, sadly. Only that this lady has our favorite Pro Hero on her clutches... Look at the way he looks at her in the following pictures!

Isn't it cute? Let me be honest, as a fan of Deku myself, I can't avoid feeling a bit heartbroken, but I also think that this man deserves all the happiness anyone can give him. Don't you agree? And after that sudden break up with Pro Hero Uravity that caught everyone by surprise, makes me think… Does this lady have anything to do with it? Did she catch Pro Hero Deku's heart from before, causing the break up? Mmm, so many questions, readers, that we don't have the answers yet! But no mind, we will try our best to find them! Be patient, and in the meantime, show a bit of support for our favorite Number One Hero.

You feel like vomiting. Your picture, clear as day, has never been on the front page of a magazine. Bakugou has always protected his privacy so meticulously, and that included you. The media and his fans knew he had a relationship, but he never let anyone get a glimpse of it.

And here you are now, on the front page of Go-zzip Hero magazine, the picture showing you sitting in front of Izuku in that coffee shop, talking so close to his face it practically looks like you're kissing. Oh, shit . You do that? You actually speak that close to him??

You swallow thickly, looking back up at Izuku.

"I am so sorry, Izuku, I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't know. None of us did. But I'm sorry I wasn't more careful…"

"Don't be silly. This is not your fault."

"Yours either."

You both smile shyly at each other. This is… chaotic. Being involved with him is… OH, SHIT.

"What? What is it?" He asks as he sees your eyes open wide in fear.

"Your fans are gonna kill me..."

"No, they aren't…"

"Yes, they are! Oh my God!" You stand, after putting your mug over the table next to his, a bit wobbly on the legs which makes him react fast to hold you if you fall, but you don't. You start walking one way to the other of your small living room. "I'm so food for the fishes… they are going to kill me!"

Izuku chuckles. "No, they aren't, Y/N…"

"Don't laugh! Yes, they are! Especially after what that journalist said! They even hinted that probably I was the reason you broke up with Uraraka!"

"Which is not true. I'll call my manager and PR team and ask for an interview with the magazine and clarify this. You don't have anything to worry about. Neither does Mineta. I'll clarify that we are just friends…"

That makes you freeze in place, frowning. "Mineta? What does he have to do with this?"

Izuku frowns too, looking confused at you. "Aren't you… Isn't he… Aren't you dating ?"

"WHAT?!" By Izuku's flinching, you realize you raised your tone a bit louder than you intended. "Sorry…Mineta is my best friend, Izuku. He's like a brother to me."

Izuku looks so confused, "But… But you always speak about him. He cooks for you, he is… he is here almost everyday for you, and he did all that stuff to piss off Bakugou for you, like a…"

"Like a brother would." You smile. "I do think that somehow our souls are connected, because I know I could leave apart from anyone, except him . He's that annoying sticky thing you get used to living with and don't want to unstick, because if you do something will miss. Because he's my brother. I wouldn't be able to live without his annoying ass." Izuku laughs with you. You walk back to sitting next to him as silence comes back. Then, you keep talking, "Mineta has been there when I had no one. Even when we were five years old and my parents died in a car accident, provoked by a hero-villain fight." Deku tenses, but keeps his attention on you. "We used to play heroes when we were kids and fantasize about how we were going to be Number One. Both of us, together. And then the accident happened. I was left alone. I didn't have much family around, only my old great-grandma that was barely suitable to raise a child. So I was given to the state. I went to an orphanage."

You don't know why you're baring your soul to Izuku like this. This was a painful, very intimate part of your history nobody knew but Mineta. Not even Bakugou knew. He never insisted for you to tell him. He simply accepted that you were Mineta's best friend, end of sentence. He never questioned anything. Now you wonder if that was a good or a bad thing.

"That's when your panic attacks began?" He asks a bit timidly. You nod.

"It happened that same day, when I was given the news about their deaths. A kind lady had been there with me, explaining what it all meant. She was kind, but she didn't have much experience. Imagine walking into a room as a kid where your parents are lying dead in two stretchers and being told these are your parents and you're not gonna see them anymore ." Izuku flinches again, a chill clearly running down his back. "A few hours later, I had my first panic attack. I lost consciousness for almost an hour. It was the longest one I ever had and doctors were worried not enough oxygen had gone to my brain, considering that even when I woke up I wasn't talking to anyone."

"Until Mineta and Auntie Asiki came to see me at the hospital. The second Mineta lay down next to me in the hospital bed, I started crying, and he held me. We were kids, not knowing anything about life, and he still understood that I needed him. Auntie Asiki offered to bring me home with her and Mineta, but the forms to the orphanage had already been filled and accepted. It would take a lot of money, lawyers and procedures to let her, a single mother, take my custody. And while her heart and intentions were hugely appreciated for even thinking about it, it was impossible."

"I didn't know Mineta's mom was a single mother." Izuku frowns, probably guilting himself about it, because of everything they, as class A, had been through their years at UA.

"He doesn't like speaking about it. He really has to trust you to tell you about it."

Izuku nods, instantly respecting that decision. He then scratches his neck again. 

"So, you and him are not…"

You chuckle. "Not even if he was the last man on Earth." Izuku laughs too.

" Ouch , that wounds me so deep, bun," Mineta's voice is heard from the entrance as he walks inside your apartment.

Shit , you haven't heard him at all. The worry on your face is visible, because you have been talking about him, about his private life, and you hadn't consulted him before. You feel so bad, so worried he'll get mad at you.  

Mineta sees you and simply shrugs, "It's okay, bun, I trust Midoriya." He then winks at you and you feel the worry disappear completely.

"Thank you, Mineta. I promise I won't speak about it to anyone."

"It's okay," Mineta answers Izuku, pulling his thumb up in his direction. You smile watching their interaction. "I'm not here though to have this conversation." Your best friend gets closer to where you are, a worried expression on his face. "I was told you had another one, in the middle of the street.." You sigh, looking down at your hands that lay in your lap. "Was it because of him again?"

You nod and Mineta is the one who sighs this time.

"About Bakugou?" Izuku asks then, frowning.

You nod again. "My therapist is helping, but yes, they appear after I remember something, random things he once had said to me."

"Why it doesn't fucking surprise me…" Izuku barks as he stands from the couch and walks, just like you had moments ago. Mineta opens his eyes wide, watching amused at Izuku's reaction.

"He's such a fucking jerk… But we already knew that, didn't we?" 

Izuku immediately agrees with Mineta.

"I should have punched him harder," Izuku's comment makes you choke on the tea you were about to swallow.

"You what?!" Both you and Mineta speak at the same time. You look worried about the whole situation, the discussion clearly hadn't been a simple one if there had been fists involved. Mineta looks like a kid given the awaited present on his birthday.

"What really happened, Izuku?" You ask, worry clear on your tone.

"He saw the article, clearly. I came back from night patrol and was changing in the locker rooms, the whole night shift was there preparing to go home at the same time the morning shift was getting ready to start their patrols. And he started making comments about you and me, about how I apparently like his leftovers, about how you are a gold digger and now went for me."

"He did not fucking say that!" Mineta stands up, ready to beat some ass, Bakugou's, specifically.

"He did! I couldn't not do anything. I tried to be civil and only told him to stop talking about us, that he didn't know anything. And I told him to stop playing the victim, because he was none. The only victims in this story are you and me," Izuku looks at you like he's assuring you, "They don't have the right to even comment on this." 

"Hell yeah, Midoriya!" Mineta cheers, raising his hand for Izuku to high five him, and the green-haired does, animated. You shake your head trying to hold your smile back. "What did corn-head say then?"

Izuku laughs at Mineta's nickname for Bakugou, bumping his fist again with the man in agreement.

You roll your eyes. Jesus , men are such idiots with nicknames. 

"He then said that… I don't know if I should repeat it…" Izuku and Mineta both look at you, Mineta already intuitively knows.

"He talked… he talked about our sex life, didn't he?" You ask after a minute of silence.

Izuku nods.

"Tell me you did punch him hard though…" Mineta is fuming, you can see the smoke coming out his ears, metaphorically. 

"Of course I did. Twice, before someone pushed me away."

"Well done, man." Mineta high fives Izuku again.

"You shouldn't… you didn't have to…"

"I won't let him or anybody speak about you that way, Y/N. Now that I know all you've been through, I won't even give them a chance to."

You move before you think, again. One second you're seated on the couch, and the next you're hugging Izuku. Arms around his neck strongly, as your face hides in your arm and his shoulder. It takes him a second, but he reacts by hugging back, strong arms surrounding your waist as delicately as he can, but also firm and securely.

You heard Mineta walk out of the living room towards the kitchen to entertain himself with anything.

And you feel… safe . You feel so safe in Izuku's arms, it's so comforting and nice.

You feel him take a deep breath over your head, as if your smell was comforting to him. You like that idea. That at least in something so insignificant like your smell, he finds comfort and peace. Relax and ease.

"Thank you, Izuku," you whisper only for him to listen.

He shakes his head, "You have nothing to thank me for."

"I do, though. Not only for those punches," you say backing away just a bit so you can see his face. He smiles proudly at the mention of the punches. "But because you helped me with my panic attacks… Twice."

"Twice?" He asks confusedly, but you nod.

"The first Friday we went to have a coffee, remember?" He nods, "I was waiting, and because it was my first time out of my apartment without Mineta I was feeling overwhelmed and… and then you appeared at the door. And all I felt was relief… I felt safe with you there, so it stopped even before it began."

You are looking at his eyes, and you can see the emotion in them as you speak. He then rests his forehead on yours and takes a deep breath, clearly pushing his emotion back in so he can speak.

"I'll be there for you… I want to be there for you, if you want me…"

"I want you," you immediately answer, "I want you to be here."

"Then I will."

"I also want to be there for you," you scratch the back of his head softly, as he bites his bottom lip, taking a deep breath. He looks like he's trying to control himself from doing something then and there, and that makes you smile.

"I want you . I want you to be there too." He repeats your exact same words, making you feel tingles all over your body as you feel his fingertips caress lightly, timidly, the bit of skin showing at your waist.

"Then I will."

You feel him moving, his nose caressing yours in a cute manner. Slowly getting closer, lips barely touching and…

"Sorry to be a cockblock, but your phone is ringing, Midoriya."

The bubble is popped , so you both back away, clearing your throats and fixing your clothes out of nervousness.

"Oh, yeah, ummm…" Izuku walks back towards the kitchen to search for his phone. "It's Shoto. He's probably heard already about the fight this morning. I should pick this." You nod, signaling to your room for his privacy and he thanks you as he walks there.

Your eyes follow him until the door is closed, and then they go towards the kitchen, where Mineta is standing, hip against the counter and a bowl of snacks in his hands he found somewhere, eating them slowly as he looks at you accusatory. A knowing smirk in his face.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything… yet."

You roll your eyes. "Spit it out." You walk towards him, picking some of the snacks on the bowl and eating.

"I have nothing to say, Y/N."

That's impossible, he always has something to say. 

"Or should I call you Ms. Midoriya from now on?" 

Ah, there it is.

You punch him in the arm and he laughs out loud.

PART I - PART II - PART III

[tapesfrom1980]

dating louis partridge would include..

-london dates. absolutely

-louis loves his city and knows it inside out, he will take you to EVERY spot he knows (if you aren’t from london or unfamiliar with it)

-vice versa, when he visits the US you’ll show him all the places you could visit during his trip

-making fun of each others accents

-“bottah o wota 🤓”

-“oh yeah? howdy partner! gonna rustle up some grub?”

-“i’m not even from the south you idiot!”

-teaching each others lingo

-“why do you call them chips?”

-“why do you call them french fries? you’re not even french”

-“if you call french fries chips, what do you call actual chips?”

-“crisps!”

-visiting him on set <3

-taking pictures of him in his character costume and making him pose

-“oh you look so precious lord tewkesbury”

-he gets all blushy and pretends to hate it

-despite his multiple kissing scenes with millie, you and her are great friends

-“oh y/n, i am so happy to see you on set again! it’s been ages!”

-“oh don’t mind me right here ladies”

-you loved his look as sid, he was a little hesitant about the hair at first but with some flirting and compliments he ended up really liking it

-while you weren’t a big fan of the role itself, he looked incredibly handsome and keeping your hands off of him was more difficult than you thought, especially the scene with him shirtless in a cowboy hat

-“like what you see?”

-“oh please, calm yourself”

-“don’t act like i haven’t seen you yearning for me to kiss you this whole time”

-he was the cockiest little shit when he knew his effect on you

-“whatever”

-(louis is definitely not the jealous type, this is for my delulu girls including myself)

-he’s always liked to be touchy with you at all times, but when you’re at a red carpet with him / premiere or generally just in public and he can tell guys are wanting to talk to you, he’ll kiss you basically every minute

-“y/n, knock knock”

-“who’s there?”

-*smooch*

-you pretend not to know what he’s doing, but it makes the butterflies in your stomach go crazy

-he’ll have his arm around you 24/7

-one time when a guy had the confidence to come talk to you while louis was talking to a castmate, he was over in a flash.

-“hey babe! who’s this?”

-“we’ll i’m-

-“oh yeah! anyways, y/n, we have that date for 7:00 tonight. i got us a hotel room for after too. they even have a jacuzzi, can you believe that?”

-the guy had long gone rolled his eyes and walked away

-“you have nothing to worry about louis, trust me”

-“thank y-

-“i specifically told all my secret boyfriends not to come talk to me so you don’t have to see them”

-“haha.”

-PASSIONATE KISSES !!!!!!! (!!!)

-this man will grab your face and kiss you and pull you as close as possible to him

-another classic, he’ll put his hands on your waist and trace his finger tips around it during a deep makeout session

-he KNOWS his effect on you and will take every chance possible to make you flustered

-coming to his model events, who wouldn’t?

-it gets so difficult for him sometimes, he has to ignore his girlfriend in the audience who is silently cheering like crazy and blowing kisses

-you like to bring him bouquets of flowers each time and he loves it, it makes him feel appreciated. especially with how many times he had been rejected as a model for his height (true story, isn’t that crazy??)

-weekend getaways on weeks he isn’t too busy, you go out to a different area each time usually just the two of you

-even when he’s extra busy, he’ll try to still make room for at least a saturday. he doesn’t wanna lose the special connection you have

-he is such a sweetheart. such a sweetheart

-he was raised to be a gentleman and it SHOWS

-if you guys are outside and paparazzi or fans get too rough, he won’t hesitate to raise his voice at them. it’s one thing to overwhelm him, but his girlfriend? never in a million years would he allow that

-same with backlash from fans, he doesn’t care if they don’t “like” your relationship and he’ll publicly speak out about the backlash if it gets too much

-candid pics!!

-he loves taking candid pics of you when he thinks you look pretty (basically every hour of the day)

-tons of polaroid / film photos

-he has them hung up and has his favorite one of you together in his wallet so he can always have you near him

-when you wake up and have bed hair, when you’re doing your skincare / makeup, when you’re eating etc

-he loves buying you outfits or accessories and seeing you in them, especially jewelry

-he never gets you ring finger rings, he wants to get you one when it’ll be only ring you’ll ever wear for the rest of your time

-he’s the best

[seonghwaddict]

★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 003 ] rock paper scissors.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of... interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. none, it's a cute chapter. word count. 2.3k

　　　　　　　　chapter ii // chapter iii // chapter iv

Surprisingly, you and Wooyoung agreed on most things when it came to compiling plausible ideas for the project. You worked together for an hour before he told you he had to go somewhere with Seonghwa and one of the guys you hadn’t met yet—Yunho?—in half an hour, to which you nodded as you continued writing down some notes.

Seonghwa joined the two of you at some point, coming down the stairs with his laptop so he could work alongside you, muttering something along the lines of “Hongjoong is working on something and I can’t concentrate” as he sighed. Though it didn’t take very long for him to retreat back to his room with a yawn having finished whatever paper her had to write.

Over the hour that you and Wooyoung worked together, he had scooted himself closer and closer to you until your knees were brushing against each other (but you didn’t mind, all this talking had made you reasonably more comfortable around him). At times he got up to demonstrate some poses he thought would look nice as you drew rough, blocky sketches of said poses. You showed him some of your own sketches, letting him choose what kind of style would fit.

At this proximity, it was very hard for Wooyoung to concentrate for longer periods of time. The perfume you wore had a divine smell that he couldn’t quite place, but if he had to he’d describe it as vanilla, a hint of something sweeter folded between. Every time he got a whiff of it, he had to stop himself from chasing the sweet smell. He also didn’t miss the way the beating of your heart sped up very slightly as he leaned over you to grab the pencil by your side, a fact that brought a smug smile to his face.

Since the final event for this project would be an exhibition in the gym, you both thought it would make sense to either do one big artwork or multiple smaller artworks to fill out the space dedicated to you. This was one of the things you couldn’t agree on.

“But wouldn’t it be so cool if you could do, like, a few sculptures and a few paintings of me?” He pouted.

“Wooyoung,” you pinched your nose bridge, “did you forget that I would have to be the one to actually make everything?”

“Well, no. But since we have like, 3 months to work on this I thought that would be more than enough time.”

“I have more—and better—things to do than paint and sculpt you.” You reasoned. “As the person that will be working endlessly on the actual artwork, I’d much prefer to do one big, impressive painting.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes before staring you dead in your eyes. “Are you sure?”

There was a change in his voice so subtle you wouldn’t be able to place it. Even his voice seemed sharper and it sent a chill down your spine. He squinted at you as you hesitated to answer and suddenly seemed so much closer than he actually was.

You blinked and looked away from him, and he was pleased to see the tips of your ears dusted a rosy shade. “Yes, I’m completely sure I’d rather do one larger painting.”

And that is how you and Wooyoung found yourselves in what may be the most intense game of Rock Paper Scissors. He decided the first to three points would get to choose, and it didn’t take long for the two of you to reach two points. After that, you kept tying and at some point, you both stood up, dramatically turning around every time you had to show your weapon. But you continued choosing the same things and each time he’d throw himself on the couch, yelling before standing back up.

After a few more rounds, you finally got a winner.

Up in the bedroom he shared with Wooyoung, Yeosang could not fall asleep. Out of all eight of the men that lived in this house, he had the most sensitive hearing. So when his best friend’s car pulled up to his house and he first heard that familiar voice accusing them of being part of the mafia, one could only imagine the surprise he felt. The two of you had run into each other a few times and eventually, he noticed he was looking for you when he went to certain places.

The first was at a café he worked at five days a week. Of course, he didn’t really need the money, but he enjoyed the atmosphere. Dim lighting, music playing softly so as to not disturb the customers, potted plants anywhere you looked. On one of the days he was working, you came in with who he assumed was your friend, talking animatedly to the girl next to you.

He didn’t notice you until you came up to the counter to order, immediately endeared by your polite smile. Your friend was seated on one of the tables by the window that looked out onto the street. He took your order: One americano, one iced latte with triple sugar, and two eclairs. 

“Name?”

You gave him your name and a small smile made its way to his face as he scribbled your name on the cups. You paid and with a nod, he asked you to wait by the pick-up counter. You watched him idly, rocking on your heels as you waited. The song caught your attention and you tried to memorise at least one phrase so you could find it later.

It didn’t take too long for both of the drinks to be made and he quickly fsíshed two eclairs out and carefully placed them into a white paper bag before handing everything to you, catching you as you took a sip of the iced latte and added in one more sugar packet. Before you left, you stopped him from turning around, a gentle ‘Excuse me?’ leaving your plump limps

“Yeah?”

“This song is nice, what’s it called?”

“Oh! Uh,” he pretended to think for a bit, but really this was his playlist and he knew every single song from the top of his head. “it’s Reflections by The Neighbourhood”

“Thank you,” your eyes flickered to the small name tag clipped to his apron. “Yeosang.”

The second time he saw you was in a quaint little bookshop. It was pretty much across the street from his café, so Jongho texted him to see if he could go a get a book for him when his shift was over. Of course, Yeosang wouldn’t decline his request so, true to his word, as soon as his shift was over at 7:30 in the afternoon, he made his way to the bookshop.

As the door opened, the kindle of a small bell signalled the arrival of a new customer. You were seated at the cashier, leaning your head on one of your hands while the other held your favourite mechanical pencil, drawing small sketches in your worn sketchbook, nodding your head to the beat of whatever song you were listening to. He recognised you immediately but decided to focus on finding the book Jongho needed.

With his phone in his hand, he looked between the title Jongho had sent him and the books on each and every bookshelf. Yet, he couldn’t find it. Deciding he should just ask you, he mustered up the courage and made his way to the front of the store, hesitating before calling out to you.

“Excuse me, um… Y/N?”

You were startled, but looked up at him and as recognition flashed through your eyes, smiled and took off your headphones. Unlike the last time you saw him, his hair was longer and he dyed it blond, but you still recognised him. You tried not to get distracted by how well this new look suited him. “Ah, Yeosang, right? How can I help you?”

He explained his situation and gave you the name of the book when you asked. You hummed and told him to follow you, walking to a section he swore he already looked in, missing the way he looked positively delighted by the fact you remembered his name. After you told him you wouldn’t be able to reach it, you told him exactly where the book should be and, lo and behold, there it was.

The next times he saw you (yes, multiple times), was somewhere he frequented almost as often as his workplace; the skatepark. You usually showed up with three of your friends and watched them skate around as you sat at a picnic bench. One time, in particular, he remembered you showing up in an outfit that nearly drove him insane. 

It was different from what he usually saw you wearing, oversized and cosy, covering up nearly all your skin. But this time, while you wore an oversized knitted white sweater, you also decided to wear and black miniskirt. Thigh-high black socks hugged your legs and fitted especially snugly around your thick thighs. If he denied the fact that he thought of about a hundred different inappropriate things in the span of a second, he’d be the biggest liar to have walked the earth.

You sat at your usual spot, watching with a fond smile as your friends bickered and skated around, that usual sketchbook opened in front of you as you drew. After twenty long minutes of skating to get his mind off you (and failing), Yeosang decided to take a seat next to you.

“You draw a lot.” He nearly smacked himself for not coming up with something better to say. But luckily, you seemed amused, letting out a small chuckle.

“I’m an art major, I kinda have to.”

And from there you conversed for another hour about whatever came to mind until your friends called you over so you could go grab dinner together. You offered Yeosang to join you, but the biology major needed to get home since he had early classes the next day.

He sighed once more, throwing the blanket off him as he got up and pulled a random sweater over his head.

“No!” You practically cried out and fell to the ground in defeat, Wooyoung cheered and jumped around the living room in utter glee. “I want a rematch!”

“In your dreams!”

“What’s going on?” A deep voice interrupted Wooyoung’s cheering (and your mourning). His eyes found yours very quickly, offering you a smile. “Oh, hey.”

“Hello!” You got up from the floor and gave him a small bow, brushing the fabric of your sweatpants despite them not being dirty.

Wooyoung’s brows furrowed as he looked between you and the blond in confusion. “You know each other?”

After explaining how you two knew each other, you had to leave. Wooyoung had to go wherever it was he need to go soon and you were getting pretty tired. After wishing them a good night and exchanging numbers with Wooyoung, you stepped out of the house, bag hanging from your shoulder as you made your way to the front gate.

That’s when you realised you didn’t have a way of getting home and didn’t know where the nearest bus stop was either. Shortly after you stepped out, both Wooyoung and Yeosang came to the same conclusion. So, while Wooyoung had to go wake up Seonghwa and get Yunho, Yeosang rushed out of the house and took his car.

“Need a ride?” He pulled up next to you, his usual smile making the apples of his cheeks look extra squishy.

You let out a sigh of relief, nodding and getting in the passenger’s seat.

The drive to the apartment complex you lived at took nearly half an hour. For the first ten minutes of the ride, you and Yeosang caught up and whatever had happened between the last time you’d seen each other and now. You wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but it was quite obvious you already developed a small liking for the man next to you.

After those first ten minutes, you fell asleep with your head leaning against the window on your side. Yeosang could tell how tired you were and didn’t blame you at all. Spending so much time with Wooyoung can either be energising or exhausting, there was no in-between. So, he let you rest, head turning to make sure you were alright every now and then.

The steady beating of your heart grounded him, calming his senses and he was sure that as soon as he got back home, he’d be able to sleep without any difficulty.

As soon as you stepped through your front door, your housemate greeted you from the couch. “Hey, where were you?”

“I had to work on a new art project with a partner,” You yawned, making your way to the kitchen and grabbing a cup of water.

“Oh, how exciting,” Sangmi laughed, knowing you preferred working on your own. “Who’s your partner?”

Swallowing the big gulp of water you took, you answered, “Jung Wooyoung.”

Her deep brown eyes practically bulged from her eye sockets. She immediately demanded every detail. Sangmi always had a sort of admiration for Wooyoung, but an admiration that was less like a crush and more akin to respect.

She was also a dance major and often told you about how hard he worked during dance practice, describing the way he moved like art in and of itself. You had yet to see what she meant, but her words still set a high standard.

After telling her everything, you excused yourself and got ready for bed, changing into comfortable shorts and a white tank top. As soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light with no hope of waking up any time soon.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] and so you have found out who she likes :> sorry this update was a bit late, i kinda forgot to finish writing. but here it is! i love blond yeosang so much it's actually insane.

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ taglist ... @atinytinaa @marievllr-abg @legohwas @moonsangie @kiss-hwa @cqndiedcherries @ateezourstars @kitty4hwa @hyukssunflower @aestheticsluut @neohyxn @mrowwww  @darkdayelixer @itsokaytobedumb00 @hwa-sans @purplelady85 @meginthebuilding27 @stopeatread @mothworked @foliea @euphoric-emily16 @teezers99 @mulletjoonsupremacy @imalildelulu @sunukissed @blehhhidk @ad0rechuu @d1am0ndw0lfxd @strawberry-moonpies @bluehwale-main @lightinythedark @stupefystudies @yandere-stories @skz-enthusiasttt @seongwin @huachengsbestie01 @galaxypox @seongwin @yuyunhoo @kyukyustar @seongfury

　　NEVER SAY NEVER　©　seonghwaddict, 2023

[onlyseokmins]

perfect, now spit in my mouth • h.v.c.

Pairing: chwe vernon x afab!reader

Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship!au, lyricist/composer!au

Warnings: swearing, lots of spitting/spit kink (😭), fingering (fem. receiving), tiny bit of praise kink ig, lil bit of degradation but it prolly breaks nonnie's heart tbh, breeding kink too uwu, mentions of male receiving oral lol, wap lmaooo, tiny bit of temp play but not really - you'll see, wee bit possession heh, reader likes to tease and vernon is extremely whipped :3

WC: 2.6k

A/N: vernon and black eye = spit kink so nothing new but i wrote it so it is smth new 🤷🏻‍♀️ ajskdfd no but 🥳 a very extremely happy belated birthday @junkissed i love u lots heh i hope u enjoy this since i had to change up my original plans and i'm so sorry it took a while 🥰 oh and this is also for the other feral dollies out there ily all

If there was one thing you loved about Vernon, it would be his awkwardness. It was what drew you to him.

Light coughs whenever you giggled at one of Seungkwan's silly jokes. Stifled clearing of his throat at the rare chance he got to speak with you. The abrupt avoidance of eye contact when he was startled by your sudden appearance while lost in his own world. And a jittery departure at times you got too near — one might think he actually disliked you.

But those close to him knew the truth. And whether Vernon acknowledged it or not, you were someone close to him. And also a person that could read the man very well.

The light brush of his trembling fingers pressing against your back when guiding you through a crowded market. A protective stance at your side in his leather jacket, eyes narrowed as if to dare anyone to mess with you. As if you needed to be guarded.

But the furrow of his eyebrows while doing it was too cute for you to complain.

Vernon's awkward behaviors happen so often that they might as well just be normal anyways. A gummy smile and the characteristic wrinkles of his nose were enough to make up for any peculiar habits around you. 

Especially after you say yes when he works up enough courage, stuttering while asking you to finally be his. Fumbling for the matching couple's bracelets he'd worked several double-shifts for in his pocket. Brown eyes sparkling and reflecting the same joy in yours even after he drops the box in a puddle. Not like you had any plans on saying no, though.

Those chocolate-colored eyes stare down at you now in wonder as Vernon holds himself above you. His left hand placed by your ear is decorated with the silver circlet holding your birthstone while wrapped around his neck, your right arm's accessory jingles with its amethyst charm. The pair of one-year anniversary gifts pierced in your earlobes sparkle in the low light of your shared bedroom, complimenting your cherished bracelets.

He's no longer as weird with you as before. As in, his fleeting touches now linger comfortably and he can almost read you just as well as you always have him.

Yet he still questions with pure wonder. As if he can't quite believe you're actually real in his arms and on his bed. Like you didn't give him the best suck of his fat cock for the hundredth time.

"You want me to what?"

"Spit in my mouth, baby. Did I stutter before?"

"N-no, I just — " 

His eyes are blown wide, mouth still hanging open from when you first posed the notion. You put your hand on the side of his face, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"Sometimes you treat me too gently. You can be a little rough, you know I like it."

"What if you break?"

"I'm not that fragile, goofball."

"I know but what if you hate me?" Vernon whispers, though his eyes do not leave yours. They shine, showcasing all his vulnerabilities. "I like you so much I think I'll die if you do."

"Silly, then stop thinking so much. It's not like I'm asking you to slap me and call me a whore." You smile coyly. "Although it's not like I'd be opposed to such things." When he whines your name you laugh. "Okay, okay… a later time then."

He flops his forehead on your bare shoulder. "I can't believe you."

"Can't believe you'd write something like "I'll spit in your mouth" and not do it," you pout and he lets out a defeated sigh.

"You know most of those lyrics weren't like… literal."

"Then what's the point?"

Your boyfriend can see how your eyes flash with teasing mischief so he shrugs in an attempt to put up a strong face. "I… draw inspiration from all kinds of experiences. Before, during… our relationship."

"… What about after? Are you planning to break up with me at some point?"

"Uh, wait — "

"Omigosh, then do you plan to murder me in the near future?"

"No, what? All I meant was I write things that aren't about you, sometimes."

"I know that," you assure him in his panic. "Sooooo," you drawl out, switching gears and pushing him onto his back so you can sit on top. You're both shirtless but have your undergarments on. "If we were to fuck often in the studio, would you write more songs about me?"

"God, baby," he groans, hand flying to your hips, "do you think I'd even have the time to think with you bouncing all loud and gorgeous on my dick? What's gonna happen when I lose my studio rights?"

Pleased at how Vernon's body is so reactive — cock hardening again and twitching sensitively in his boxers at the obscene thoughts — you grind down lightly. "Then we fuck even more. All day," you lean down and whisper right in his ear, "and all night." 

"Shit, you're so dirty. So good to me. All for me."

"Of course," you swivel your hips, fingers brushing up the sides of your body, "all yours." 

His gaze follows the colors of your pretty manicured nails until they settle to cover your breasts. They still shine with saliva and feel a little sore from him worshiping them earlier. You grab at them with a light squeeze and press down harder against him, taking in every reaction. The way his eyes roll back at how much you're soaking through the thin fabric of his boxers makes you feel like a god.

"Even when "I'm on my worst behavior"."

"You are so not using my lyrics in bed."

"Hey, I did earlier 'cause they do make great dirty talk so "don't stop me now", Vernonnie." You wink when all the poor man can do is roll his eyes. "See, "how you like me now"?"

He urges you back over to your previous position. "I do love you but if you want me to spit in your mouth, I think I'm gonna have to be on top."

You simply hum, the sudden electrifying zing in the air making you quiver in anticipation. Vernon is aware of this — pinning your arms above your head, fingers rubbing reassuringly along the band of your bracelet.

"That wasn't an answer."

"That wasn't a question?" you bite back, thrilled when he squints to shield the way his gaze darkens.

"When I tell you to speak, you do."

The gasp of surprise that rises in your chest comes out as a moan. Despite his uncertainty, the commanding tone makes your head spin joyously. Heat rushes through your entire body and releases in a hot mess between your legs, soaking your panties. 

You're sure Vernon will very quickly and gleefully find out once he finishes sucking little love bites in a trail down your stomach. His warm breath lingers at your waistline, pausing until you raise your head to look at him questioningly.

"My pretty baby hasn't listened yet. Guess I'll hang out here for a bit. Thought we were done for the night anyways."

Your jaw drops as he continues to just press kisses on your tummy. "What the hell, Vern?"

"Don't you think you should behave to get what you want?"

"Don't you want to find out how wet I am for you?"

He shudders and you think you've won but he's uncharacteristically stubborn tonight, refusing to yield. "Only… only good… whores are rewarded."

You moan breathlessly. Shamelessly. Your boyfriend has barely touched you tonight besides some casual foreplay beforehand. Yet you feel zero embarrassment at how much your body aches in want for him. "I'll be a good whore for you so… please, please touch me!"

Vernon lets out a curse, hastily taking off your panties. He groans in delirium staying focused solely on your leaking pussy that's begging for him. Looking you in the eyes, he gulps to steady his resolve despite how easily distracted he is by the desperate flutter of your eyelashes.

"You really want me, baby? Think this little cunt can take me?" A choked laugh escapes his throat. "So goddamn wet for me already just like the lovely darling you are."

Your reply is cut off by a harsh sound in his throat before he spits right at your pussy. Hips bucking up at the feeling of warm liquid sliding down into your hole and only continuing to jerk upwards as he stares, not even blinking. Like a cat. Licking his lips agonizingly slow at the way you clench pitifully around nothing, his saliva mixing with your arousal.

"But not wet enough."

That's a fucking lie. You both know it. And you both don't care.

You can't help but leak more and more, threatening to leave a puddling mess all over the mattress. But he won't let that happen. You think you might burst into flames when your boyfriend's lidded eyes drag across your writhing body to meet yours, a heated fire swirling in chocolate irises as he spits into his palm without losing your gaze.

You've seen him do it before. Normally when he's about to wrap his hand around his thick cock during a mutual masturbation session when he can't use your wetness to coat him instead.

But now, he catches your dripping mess right before it falls. Smearing it with an accompaniment of saliva all over to coat your pussy lips. Fingers brush across your slit to fiddle with your clit, before spreading a shiny trail on your pelvis.

"So pretty… " Vernon mumbles, marveling at the debauched visage of your desperation. 

Your fingers pinch at your nipples, thighs trembling because his hand lays so close to your clit. Able to feel heat radiating from him paired with the cool metal of his bracelet, the slight pressure above your pubic bone causes you to whine in frustration.

"Do something, Nonnie. Anything. Please."

Begging snaps him out of his trance, back to the present moment and the end goal he has in mind. Fingers slide down tantalizingly slow to tease at your entrance — gathering up more of your arousal — before easing just as painstakingly slow inside.

Groaning at the same time you do, additional filthy and wet noises fill the room when he sets a harsh pace to drive his fingers into your pussy. Months of practice allow him to quickly find the spot to stroke that has your toes curling, body writhing with the need to grab onto something. Vernon's eyes dart to how you grab at the bedsheets in an unforgiving hold.

Nervous you might somehow tear them (definitely not the first time), he reluctantly removes his hand from your warmth. Mildly amused at the way you release your death grip only to pound a fist against the mattress, the jingle of your charm sounding sweet despite your apparent vexation.

He ignores your laser beam glare, entranced by the clear strands that stretch as he spreads his fingers. Smirking with his tongue running along his upper teeth, he turns back to you and waves the digits tauntingly.

"Open."

You obey without hesitation, granting him access to stick his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around them, more intent on reminding your boyfriend of the way you sucked him off earlier than how you taste.

It doesn't matter if that pleases him or not. Because soon he's pulling his fingers away, not leaving you empty for long. Stripping down, he's back hovering over you before you can whine. Holding his cock with one hand, he taps it teasingly against your cunt only to lose reason and throw his head back at the incredibly loud, wet slapping noises. Quickly returning his focus to not miss the droplets that spray out to coat both of your thighs as he does it.

"Want me to fuck this tight little hole?"

"Mhm, of course."

"Whose pretty pussy is this?"

"Belongs to you, baby."

He spits again so it lands right where the head of his cock spreads apart your pussy lips upon its entrance. You might've told him to save his saliva to spit in your mouth but you're too blissed out by the whole insane situation. 

"Arms around me, love." Vernon's freed hand lands to cage you between his arms as he slides in with more ease than expected, filling you up completely that it knocks the wind out of both of your lungs. "So fucking wet for me, ah."

Your inner walls pulse and contract around his cock as usual, yet it's a different feeling than normal. Rather than tightening so hard around him that he can barely breathe, it's more of a slick suction that makes his head spin. His cock is quite literally drowning in your pussy. If he thought the sounds of fingering you were filthy, the amplification of wet slaps as his hips snap furiously is somehow even impossibly filthier.

"'m not gonna last long." Your boyfriend would probably feel pathetic for the lack of stamina but the scratches along his shoulder blades inform him that you're just as far gone. "Gonna fill you up, nice and full just like you like it, baby."

As your mouth opens in a reciprocating moan, Vernon finally does what you desire. He spits, proud of his perfect aim into your mouth. You swallow without being told, eyes rolling back in delight and carving crescent moon shapes into his skin. That's all it takes for you to cum, shaking as you cling to him.

"More," you pant out, "do it again. Please!"

If he could speak, he would tell you how absolutely gorgeous you are. Instead, he does as asked, in awe of how readily you take every piece of him. You already have his heart, his soul, and his love. He's given his release after you've begged him to fuck you raw — and well, now you've taken his spit. 

Gee, how romantic.

Vernon's pace hastens, intent to give you all of his cum before overstimulation sets in. Your legs wrap around him, reading his mind — or more like your body instinctively craves to be filled. He chants your name like a mantra before giving in and spilling inside, shuddering as his hips have no choice but to press tightly against you with the aid of your rather cute koala grasp.

"Fuck, you're so hot."

He buries his head inside the crook of your neck, laying his whole body weight on yours and refusing to budge. You hum, letting your head clear as your hands run up and down across the marks you left on his back.

"Told you I wouldn't break."

"Hm, do you still love me?"

You let out a huff of air, feeling his lips curl up. "Adore you, you idiot. My love is as strong as my trust in you."

"What would I do without you?"

"Said you would die."

"I would," Vernon affirms with conviction, "what would I do without anyone's mouth to spit into."

You feel absolutely no remorse delivering a light slap on his ass. "And now maybe you won't."

"Hey! You promised!"

His jolt upwards causes you both to grunt, a reminder that he's buried inside of you still. Testingly, you clench gently around him and he groans in protest.

"So, you'll do it from now on?"

He shrugs. "If that's what you want. You know I'll do anything for you."

Of course. That's another thing you love so much about him so much.

"Perfect, now spit in my mouth again, baby."

You take the opportunity when he cocks his head to the side to tug him down, fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck. He melts against you when your lips press against one another, readily opening his mouth when your tongue prods for entrance, now understanding what you mean.

After a long, lazy makeout session causes you to part for air, you brush your nose against his. "I don't know what you were so concerned about when we swap spit all the time."

Your name falls out of his mouth in a flustered stutter before you shut him up again with another smooch. As you giggle against his mouth, Vernon presses harder into the kiss — whether out of embarrassment or revenge — you aren't sure but you relish it. Enjoying the intimate moment with the love of your life.

onlyseokmins: January 2023 ©

Taglist: @joshibambi @pandorashbox @rubyscoups @woozluv @darlingvernon @charcharfairy @httpswonwoosglasses @yeosayang @buffhoshi @horanghae8star @noraehey @misssugarlips @onlymingyus @tinkerbell460 @aceofvernons @dejavernon

[wardenparker]

Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 5

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.    

Rating: E for Explicit. 18+! Word Count: 9.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Sexy shower time, a whole truck load of anger, fisticuffs, a bunch of angry people being upset with each other. Summary: A blissful morning becomes a whirlwind nightmare when Tequila sees your tattoo. But the biggest revelation doesn’t come until you’ve gotten all the way back to Louisville. Notes: Guys, I just...this chapter happens very fast and there is a *lot* of stuff going on. And I just love absolutely everything about it. 😂

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

Sunlight streaming through the curtains is what wakes you, traffic on the busy Boston streets leaking into the beautiful calm of your room and heavy arm around your waist anchoring you to the mattress. Tex is curled around your back like a huge koala, holding on and nuzzling into the back of your neck in his dreams. The general lack of clothing and ache between your thighs would be telltale if you had been drunk when everything happened, but you since you weren't it's just a lovely reminder. Every second is catalogued away in your memory, right down to the moment you both collapsed, sweaty and satiated, and fell asleep in each other's arms within minutes.

Humming, Tex is aware the second you wake, stirring from his own deep and satisfying sleep. "Good morning." He grins and kisses the back of your neck without even opening his eyes. "Did I manage to convince you?" He asks playfully, telling you last night before falling asleep he was going to demand an answer on if you preferred cowboys in the morning.

"Got a secret for you," you mumble, turning over in his arms to curl into his chest. If not for the damn family brunch you're supposed to be at this morning, you would be very happy not to move from this bed. "I've always liked cowboys."

Tequila barks out a sleep rough chuckle and pulls you closer, rolling onto his back so that you are sprawled out on top of him. "That so, cowgirl?" He huffs playfully.

“Always.” The nod you give him is solemn, even if your grin is playful. “Watched Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid the first time when I was eleven and never got over it.”

You would make a perfect spouse for a Statesman agent then. Tequila knows he can't tell you about things until it becomes more serious, but he winks at you. "Well then, I guess you're in luck." He teases, leaning in and kissing you while he reaches up to grab his hat off the bedpost. He pulls away and sets it on your head.

“It’s about as subtle as a heart attack.” His hat shades you like a beach umbrella when he pops it on top of your bed head and you laugh, dopey on attraction and good dreams. “I like it though. Might have to get one of my own eventually.”

“No need to be subtle.” Tex grins at you and rolls his hips up, letting you feel the very unsubtle thing that is hard between you. “Not when I’m showing my hand.”

“Good.” When you look down at him again you hum a little, bowing your head to steal another kiss. “I hate games. One hundred percent honesty all the way.”

He would pull you against him for another round, but he got a copy of the itinerary, same as you, and he knows that you need to be there for the brunch. “How about we explore in the shower while we get ready?” He poses, smirking against your lips as he squeezes your ass.

“Sexy and responsible. I like it.” You sit up reluctantly, knowing that it will have to be a quickie since you’re supposed to be downstairs in the dining room in half an hour. “C’mon, cowboy. I’m sure the shower has enough room for two.”

“I made sure of it.” Tex sits up as you scamper off the bed. Hating that you are walking away from him, but admiring the way your ass shakes. “Plenty of time to make sure your knees tremble when you walk.” He growls confidently before he throws himself out of bed to chase after you.

“Planning on seducing me, were you?” Even though you make it to the bathroom first, his long arm reaches past you to turn on the shower head and you smirk at him over your shoulder. “Have I been seduced?”

“Have you?” Tex winks at you and grins. “You tell me.”

"Fifty-fifty," you decide, after giving him a good, long look up and down. Tex isn't shy about anything, least of all his body, and he gives you a flex for good measure. "Call it a mutual seduction."

"I can't deny that." He chuckles and glances down pointedly at his groin for good measure.

"If you want more, you gotta get in here." One step backward and you're in the shower, tipping your head back to luxuriate in the fierce spray of hot water. "Otherwise we're gonna be late."

"Wash first, play after." Tex promises, sending you a wink and ducking his head down to lick a line of water off your chest, perilously close to your nipple.

"How is that after?" You whine, gasping at how close he comes to where you wish he would have directed that troublesome tongue of his.

He chuckles again and straights up, sending you a small wink. "You don't want me to wash you?" He asks with a play pout.

"Well...if you're offering." The nearby facecloth is in your hand immediately, getting soaking wet under the hot water to hand over so he can lather it - and you - up.

Taking the washrag, Tex smirks and motions for you to turn around. "Back first." He tells you, reaching out to slap your ass when you obey him.

"Yes, sir." Giggling, you shake your ass for him before stretching your arms and giving a contented sigh. This is pretty close to a perfect morning, as far as morning after scenarios go, and you're planning on enjoying the hell out of it.

He tucks his tongue between his teeth and starts to wash you. Just because he's copping a feel here and there - okay, a lot of feels - doesn't mean he isn't going to wash you properly.

It's nearly hypnotic, aside from the distracting hands grabbing and squeezing and making both of you giggle or moan, alternately. When he finally gets to your other arm, he starts rubbing at it like he's trying to scrub your skin clean off and you laugh again. "Sometimes the makeup gets smudgy before it comes off," you explain, having entirely forgotten that you covered your tattoo in the first place. There were different, much more fun things to think about. "I got the heavy-duty stuff a while back. Like what they use on movie sets for actors."

Tex frowns, not commenting as he works the layers of makeup off your skin. Thinking that the placement is odd as he swipes at it with the cloth. He doesn't want to hurt you but there is a knot of dread that is starting to build as the ink starts to slowly become visible under the flesh colored makeup.

"You don't have to be timid about it." Turning half around, you reach for the cloth but see the utter dismay on his face. "Don't tell me you're against ink?" That would be...extremely inconvenient. But it's not like you have Eat Me written above your cunt or something. Although that would be fucking hilarious. "I know everybody at Statesman is into the clean-cut look, but I've had this for years."

Tex shakes his head, unable to explain why this tattoo has him floored. "I—I don't." He murmurs softly, standing up and stepping back from you. His heart aches and he hates that he's seen it. Wishing he didn't know who else sported this tattoo. "I—shit." He shakes his head and closes his eyes on a sigh.

"What's wrong?" He looks like he's seen a ghost, which makes you cringe a bit and suddenly wish you weren't both standing naked in such an intimate setting. "I—I don't...have a soulmate. If that's what you're worried about. I used to have a bunch more tattoos and a couple of weeks ago they...they just disappeared. And that only happens when...when your soulmate dies. So don't think you've got, ya know, competition or anything."

His jaw rocks when he realizes you don't know. You don't fucking know. Confusion mars your beautiful face and he knows that you are going to be hurt. Hell, he's hurt. Jack didn't fucking let him know and he knows that motherfucker was aware of his interest in you. It wasn't like they hadn't prowled around together enough to know when the other had taken a shinin' to a particular woman.

“I’m really gonna need you to say something.” He looks angry and it’s unsettling in the very worst way, making you tense up and cross your arms over your chest in a protective stance. “Like now, please.”

"I've - I've seen that tattoo." Tequila admits, hating how the weekend is now over. Of course it is. "Recently."

“What?” Standing still and perfectly stable, you nearly fall over from the way that seemingly simple news rocks through you and makes your heart skips beats on its way up into your throat. Second soulmates are supposed to be a fairy tale. “On who? When?”

"I—I can't tell you." Tex can't say anything, not without getting into the classified details and Champ's already riding his ass for being 'too lax' with classifications. "Not yet."

“Well that’s un-fucking-acceptable.” And definitely makes you think he could be lying or creating an excuse to get out of seeing you again when you get back to Kentucky. Which is both hurtful are extremely fucking disappointing. You had thought Tex was a better man than that. Of course - you had thought Jack was a better man, too. Maybe you’re just a shit judge of character. “Second soulmates are impossible. If you saw my tattoo on someone then maybe my soulmate didn’t die. They just…had plastic surgery or something?”

You're her. The woman that put marks on Jack's body. The same one that your soulmate was killed by Jack just a few weeks ago. No wonder Jack kept running from you, guilt written on his face. "I—I'm sorry, darlin'." Tex shakes his head and swallows harshly, aware that you are pissed. "It's…it's classified."

“What the fuck does that mean?” It’s too much to digest, after how much fun last night was and how much Jack disappearing into thin air hurt you earlier in the week, to think that Tex is just wriggling his way out of things after getting what he wanted.

He doesn't like the hurt on your face. Not at all. Reaching up, he cups your cheek and stares into your eyes. "I promise you that I'm not trying to hurt you." He chokes out, his heart clenching and he fucking hates that he ever suggested a goddamn shower. He could have been blissfully unaware of who's soulmate you are. "It— it'll make sense soon."

Instinct takes over, making you recoil and slap his hand away the second it touches your skin. The tears are hot and angry, pressing against the backs of your eyes like prickling needles when you shove him out of the way to get out of the shower - half-clean and half-mortified. “If you wanted a one-night thing I would’ve been fine with that,” you tell him flatly, even though it’s a fucking lie. You don’t look back as you pull open the door of the shower and step out, grabbing for the closest towel to cover up with. “You didn’t have to be fucking mean about it.”

"I'm...” Tex sighs and his head drops down between his shoulders. "That's not what happened." He whispers as you march out of the bathroom.

******

Brunch is excruciating, making excuses for his absence to your family because you hadn’t wanted to spoil the morning after your cousin’s wedding with being outwardly angry. Instead you simmer all morning with too many mimosas, and on the plane with your headphones jammed into your ears staring stock forward so he doesn’t dare try to talk to you on the way back to Kentucky.

No more cowboys. You lecture yourself sternly, hauling your weekender bag up onto your shoulder the second you deplane and speed walking away from the broad-and-tall frame of the cowboy who had driven you both to the airport. You’ll take an Uber, thank you very much. Now more cowboys and no more putting your heart on the line. Getting it bashed with a proverbial sledgehammer twice in one week is plenty enough to learn your lesson.

Tequila sighs, jogging up to you and grabbing your bag. While he understands you hate him, he can't let you go off on your own. Not when he knows who your soulmate is. It's a security risk and he wonders if that's why Jack sent him to the wedding with you. "Come on, you don't have to talk to me, but don't be dumb."

“Give it back.” Fury doesn’t usually last this long for you, but you’re seething with it to cover up how disappointed and hurt you are.

"No." Tex shakes his head, pulling it back out of your reach. "Get in the damn truck." He tells you. "I'm gunna get you back to Statesman unharmed. Then you can never talk to me again."

“Why do you even care?” Considering he’s taller, faster, and stronger than you, it’s not like you can overpower him and get your bag back, so you stare him down instead.

"Because I care about you." He insists. "You might not believe that, but I do."

“Bullshit.” Still, you pull open the door of his enormous pickup truck yourself because it will annoy him that you didn’t wait, and swing yourself up into the passenger seat. You’re mad enough to you’ve moved over to spiteful, but at least he hasn’t seen you cry. “Just take me home.”

"I will." Tex clenches his jaw as he climbs into the truck and his fist curls around the steering wheel hard enough to make the plastic groan. "Bet your ass I will."

Fucking dramatic ass cowboys. You sink down in the seat and squeeze your eyes shut, desperately wishing you were going home to New Hampshire to sit with your sister or out to New York City to hang out with your brother. Anything but the little house halfway in between the two men who have kicked you to the curb like last week's garbage.

As the truck barrels its way towards Statesman, the anger inside Tequila builds. Pissed at Jack for what he's done. The selfish son of a bitch caused you to hate him. He stews with every mile that the tires eat up, nearly red faced by the time that truck turns onto the road that leads towards Statesman housing.

As soon as he pulls into your driveway you jump out of the truck, grabbing your bag from the cargo bed and heading straight inside. The sooner you can get into a bath with an army of scented candles and a bottle of something much stronger than watered down mimosas or airline nips, the better. You can just wash away the horrific memories of this weekend and never speak of it again.

The moment the front door of your cabin slams, Tequila throws the truck in reverse, the tires squealing from how hard he stomps on the gas. Fury making him sling the truck around and gun it as he throws it into drive. Hearing the engine roar with a grim wince of satisfaction as the V-12 lurches forward.

******

The door to Jack's office slams open under his palm, a satisfying creak and groan of heavy wood mirroring the stomp of Tequila's boots. His vision is so tunneled by righteous anger that he doesn't see Champ lounging in the armchair off to the side of Jack's heavy desk - only focused on the man he came to confront. There's no hesitation in his step, singularly motivated by the boiling in his blood when he storms forward and swings, connecting with Jack's jaw with flawless precision. "You son of a bitch!"

Jack goes sprawling to the floor, shocked but he's quickly bouncing back. "What the fuck!" He shouts, picking himself up off the floor and glaring at his friend. "Have you lost your fucking mind?"

"Have you?" Tequila spits back, slamming his fist into Jack's desk next. The crash is satisfying in an entirely separate way. "How could you not tell me?!"

"Tell you what?" Jack demands, frowning and shaking his head to look over at Champ. "What the fuck didn't I tell you?"

"Her!" Tequila bellows, towering over Jack with a red face and hurt eyes as the older man gets back to his feet. "Did you think I wouldn't find out she's your fucking soulmate?"

Shit. The anger drains out of Jack's face and he stares at Tequila. "She's— it's a mistake." He chokes out. "I'm not – I can't be her soulmate." He insists, begging the younger man to believe him. "You know that."

"I saw her fucking tattoo, Jack." He doesn't even notice that Champ has jumped up to slam Jack's office door shut, containing the noise as well as the news. Tequila is too wrapped in his own fury to notice anything at all. "You knew and you didn't say a fucking word and now she's furious with me because you went and shoved your head in the goddamn dirt."

"You didn't have to fuck her!" Jack shouts back, anger surprising him although he had known what would happen if the other agent went with you. He had known that Tequila was attracted to you, but he had ignored it. "You coulda kept your dick in your pants for once in your goddamn life."

"I wouldn't have if you had said something!" The outrage on both ends is obvious, but Tequila feels it twisting in his guts like something ugly. "I'd have kept my damn mouth shut and kept her company and kept my fucking feelings to myself if you had just said something."

"Feelings?" Jack scoffs and shakes his head. "Since when is horny a fucking feeling?"

"Fuck you." Tequila bites out, but Champ grabs his arm before he can wind up for another good hit.

"Cut the shit, both of you." He orders, tone short and sharp and brokering no insubordination. "What the hell happened?"

Jack snaps his head around and blows out a breath, realizing that Champ is the room still. He had completely forgotten about the older man after Tequila busted into the room like a pissed off bull in a china shop. "I don't have a fucking clue." He spits, glaring at Tex and nods towards him. "Why don't you ask the hot head?"

"Agent Chicken Shit backed out of taking his soulmate to a wedding this weekend and asked me if I could take her instead." Tequila wrenches his arm out of Champ's firm grip, feeling like he's been caught breaking his brother's nose by his father all over again. "Knowing goddamn well that I—I'm in love with her." Saying it out loud makes him wish he could just storm back across the Statesman campus and explain everything to you. To beg you to believe and forgive him. But it's not his place. Not at all.

Jack snorts and rolls his eyes. "Wantin' to fuck ain't being 'in love'." Jack spits back, furious to hear those words out of his mouth and worse, he wonders if you feel the same way. It pisses him off and he wants to punch the righteous fucker in the nose for touching you.

"When have I ever punched you over wanting to fuck the same girl?" It's not as though they hadn't, after all, but Tequila still glowers at Jack across the desk.

"Can't recall you ever even using the word 'love' before," Champ comments, interested to see exactly how red in the face Jack is going to get.

His teeth are about to crack he's clenching his jaw so hard. Nearly growling at the way that Tequila flusters. Breathing heavily as the younger man turns towards Champ with a shrug of his shoulders. "Because I ain't felt it before." He admits, shaking his head. "But there's somethin' about her."

"She does seem to be a point of fascination." Champ's no fool. He hasn't missed Jack's attentions being centered on you, or Tequila's stolen glances. He hadn't missed the flirting - both intentional and not - and he had listened diligently to what Diana told him without over-divulging or betraying your confidence.

"She's a shiny new toy." Jack hisses, puffing up his chest and glaring at Tequila, ready to throw a few punches of his own considering what he's done. "He'll get tired of her, just like every other woman he's ever taken to bed."

"Look who's goddamn talking," Tequila hisses back. "Barely took you a week to get sick of her and without even the good manners to tell her you why."

"I was trying to PROTECT HER!" Jack roars, his own fist slamming down onto the table as he lashes out. Picking up the bottle of '87 and throwing it against the wall, shattering it and splashing whiskey over the walls.

"Alright, the both of you!" Champ doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't need to. The disapproval and the anger in it clear without needing more volume. "Tequila, you take your ass up to my office and you stay there until I come talk to you. I want both sides of this and it ain't gonna be clear with you shouting over each other like beasts."

Jack glowers, staring down Tequila as he marches out of his office and hisses as the door rattles on its hinges from the force of him slamming it shut behind him. "She didn't need to know." He defends roughly. "She doesn't need to know."

"What the hell happened?" Champ turns his eyes on Jack, knowing Tequila will do as he's been told and wondering what catalyst had pushed Jack to run the way he had. "You got embarrassed that Diana caught you in an amorous moment? That's nothin' to be ashamed of."

"She's NOT my soulmate!" Jack shouts, fury making spittle fly out of his mouth and his voice cracks in his desperation for someone to believe him. To convince himself.

"That's up to you." And Champ won't push him to admit otherwise. "But she's human. And she deserves a damn apology. Di said she was beside herself upset at you walkin' out, even if she hid it well. I can't imagine Tequila spurning her now is going to make her feel any better, although it ain't your fault the boy lost his nerve when he realized."

"He wants a soulmate." Jack mumbles, his shoulders rounding at the reminder that he had treated you abysmally. They had done a lot more than just been each other's wingman for picking up women over the years. There had been plenty of serious conversations between women and glasses of whiskey. "He's not going to be with someone else's if he knows them."

"So you thought letting him discover it on his own would...go smoother?" He's not even going to go into how jumpy Jack is being about his own attraction to you.

"How was I suppose' to know that the fucking idiot didn't know?" Jack huffs defensively. "I showed him the damn mark on my skin. It's not like the fucking things on her tit. I thought he saw it on her."

"Alright, alright." Champ shakes his head and groans, feeling like everybody's damn father and not for the first time. "I'll go deal with him, but you..." He could just order him to apologize. To walk over to your house right now and make things right. But he knows that won't actually help things, it will only make Jack dig his heels in harder. "Whether you're ready to tell her or not, she still deserves an apology."

"For what?" Jack spread his hands up helplessly before he props them on his hips. "For killin' her soulmate? For her being stuck with me? For kissin' her and running away? For keepin' it from her?" He asks, not sure which sin he has to ask forgiveness for.

"You gotta decide that yourself." He had just meant the bit about running off, but as long as Jack is willing to entertain the idea of actually telling you the truth, he's not going to discourage it.

"She deserves better, Champ." Jack murmurs quietly. "Better 'in me. Hell, better than the kid."

"That's not up to you to decide." Champ's voice is just as quiet, but far gentler. "It's up to her. And if she's rightfully pissed at the both of you after this week, then that's that. But at the very least, she should know that you didn't run off because of anything she did. Y'all are actin' in her best interest as far as you're concerned, but all she can see is two men makin' her feel good and then acting like she did wrong for following down the paths you set."

"Shit." Jack closes his eyes, pissed off at himself for being a fool and giving Tequila the opportunity to hurt your already bruised feelings. He should have just taken you.

"Clean up this mess," Champ points to the broken liquor bottle on the floor. "And then go clean up the one you made with her. I'll deal with Tequila."

Jack stares at him for a moment, nodding quietly before the older man turns around and leaves the office. Leaving Jack in the wake of the mess he had found himself in.

Champ heads down the hall with purpose, shaking his head at the ridiculous state his two agents have made of things. He knows he brought you here to be protected, but apparently he should have been protecting you from their dumb asses as well. Thankfully, Tequila is waiting in his office like he was ordered, leg bouncing with nerves but no damage done. "Alright," he huffs, shutting the door behind him. "Your turn."

"Now Champ..." Tequila springs to his feet, aware that he should have handled things better than he had, but he's mad. "Whiskey didn't tell me she was his soulmate. I wouldn't have gotten involved with her if he had of."

"Don't think I know that?" The boy's sense of propriety is usually aces, even if his common sense can lack. "That's not why you got put in time out, Tequila. I can't punish you for makin' a fool of yourself with a lady. Either of you. Even if you deserve it."

"Then why am I here?" There is an edge of defiance in his voice, residual anger from the entire ordeal.

"Because you attacked a senior agent without provocation." Champ tells him flatly. "And I can't be sure y'all won't piss each other off enough that it will happen again."

"He fucking deserved it, and you know it." Tequila argues, standing up and putting his hand on his hip.

"Not the point, son." He can't make a judgement call on this if he ever wants it to get resolved. "It's insubordination and you know it."

Tequila rolls his eyes and huffs before he begrudgingly acknowledges that what Champ is saying is true. "So what's my punishment?" He asks. "Week scrubbing the warehouse?"

"Manual labor ain't gonna prove a point to you." Champ knows that. The kid comes from honest labor and hard work. It rolls right off his shoulders. "You're gonna take an assignment for me. Give you time to cool off and separate yourself from our fascinating lady so you can cool the hell off."

Opening his mouth in protest immediately, he manages to catch himself before he says something. Closing his mouth and just standing there. He knows he deserves it, even if he doesn't say so.

“Kingsman proposed an agent swap about a month ago.” Moving around him, Champ motions to Tequila to sit before plopping down in the large wingback chair behind his desk. “Been debating who to send. Looks like you just gave me my answer.”

"What am I gonna do in London, Champ?" The Texan whines, giving his boss a horrified expression. "They don't know the first thing about ropin'."

“So you’ll teach ‘em.” The side drawer of Champ’s desk holds the folder of papers from Kingsman as they rebuild, and Champ flips it open to skim through the paperwork. “Change of scenery and company might do ya some good, Tequila.” He glances up with one eyebrow half-raised. “After an apology.”

"I'm not apologizing to that fucker." He doesn't care how long Champs sends him to 'Merry ol' London', he will never apologize to Whiskey for belting him like he deserved.

"Not to him." Champ nearly laughs, but he catches himself. He's meant to be angry. A disciplinarian. At least for right now. "To her. She didn't ask for any of this shit."

"I can't apologize without telling her why I backed away." He reasons with Champ. "If that asshole had just manned up, this wouldn't be an issue."

Seeing as he can't actually argue with that, Champ sits back in his chair and eyes Tequila for a second before he lets an approving nod escape. "At least tell her you're goin' and that it has nothin' to do with her. Don't let her hear it third hand and wonder what the hell she might have done to make both of you run." He's gonna have to pay a visit to you himself, he thinks, and make sure you get something nice for the restaurant or let you hire a second-in-command, or something. Anything. Just to make sure you don't resign and he loses the ability to protect you.

Tequila nods and shuffles his feet slightly. "I'll go over there now and explain." He mumbles. "But it might have to be through a door. She's really fuckin' mad at me because I wouldn't tell her where I'd seen her tattoo."

"Can't say I blame her." Hell, if he were a woman, he'd have given them both far more hell than you seem to. "Do what you gotta go tonight. You're on the jet no later than 0900 tomorrow morning."

"Yes sir." Tequila nods once and turns on his heel. He needs to apologize to you before he goes; and put these feelings that he has for you to bed. There can't be a future with you. Not when Jack wears your tattoo.

******

The bath was a good idea, and you bundle up in clean pajamas after crying your damn eyes out and throw on an extra sweatshirt for comfort. You toss a bowl of leftover chili into the microwave and hunt down the bag of tortilla chips to eat it with, figuring you’ll turn on a movie and try to forget that the rest of the world exists.

Tequila decides that it would better to walk over to your place rather than pull up in your driveway. Walking along the way until he is standing on your porch and sighing softly. Hesitating for a moment before he reaches out and knocks on your door. Anticipating that you won't even answer.

“Fucking hell…” Muttering under your breath all the way to the front door, you check the peak hole before opening it and end up groaning. “What do you want, Tex?” He’s the actual last person you want to see right now, but if he’s got an explanation you want to hear it.

“I—” Tex shifts on his heels and reaches up to rub the back of neck in embarrassment. “I owe you an apology.”

Yes. He certainly goddamn does. You pull open the door halfway and look up at him expectantly. “How about an explanation, while you’re at it.”

"That's where you're gonna be mad at me." He bites his lips and shrugs. "It's not— I can't tell you who but I can tell you that I've seen that mark on someone I know. And I—I didn't know when I went after you."

“Unless it’s one of your brothers or something, I can’t see what the big deal is.” Having decided, over the course of the last few hours, that he’s probably lying to try to get out of a relationship, you just shrug your shoulders. “Fine. It is what it is.”

"Believe me...I wish I could tell you." He sighs. "I— I came to apologize because I'm being punished." He grunts. "Being sent overseas on an assignment."

“What did you do to get punished for?” That intrigues you enough to step back, leaving the front door open for him to come inside. He’s rowdy, sure, but you can’t see him being brash enough to put his job in the line. He loves his job.

"I punched someone." Tequila grumbles quietly, his brow furrowing, and he won't admit that his hand is aching. Jack Daniels has a fucking jaw of steel. "In front of Champ."

“And he’s banishing you to another country for it?” First of all, it’s news to you that Statesman even operates in other countries. But who the hell could garner that kind of punishment for something that— It’s like the entire world stops spinning for a second, screeching to a halt as you stand in your foyer next to one frustrating cowboy realizing the entire conversation just turns back around to a second one who is even more frustrating. Your eyes snap up to Tex’s, wide and full of so much shock that it’s nearly embarrassing. Because the second you put the pieces together, it couldn’t have been clearer. “Jack…” His name is barely better than a murmur, but it’s firm. “It’s Jack. Isn’t it?”

Of course you would figure it out. Not only are you funny, beautiful, and talented in many, many ways; you are also smart. Probably a hell of a lot smarter than he is. Your eyes betray your feelings, the stunned anguish in them, and the hurt that you are feeling shining out at him. It makes him want to pull you into his arms and comfort you. But it isn't his place to do that, and he's already hurt himself by getting involved with you. It would just make it harder to let go of you. "I can't tell you who." He shakes his head and sighs. "Just please, please believe me. I never wanted to hurt you."

You never wanted to think he was lying, but now that you know who it is that’s wearing your mark, you can see why he backed off immediately. That’s his mentor. One of his closest friends. And while Jack running off might have been a shitty thing to do, that now makes a lot more sense, too. “Maybe when you come back, we can try hanging out again?” It’s a weird situation for anyone to be in, but you do enjoy his company. “Just as friends?”

Tequila swallows, knowing that it might be hard for him for a while but he nods, giving you a small smile. "I'd like that darlin'." He admits softly. "I-I wish it could be more, but I know you woulda gotten tired of my ass." He jokes, not wanting to make it awkward, but he does want you to know that he had been serious with his intentions. "I'm sorry for ruinin' the brunch."

“I told everybody you were too hungover,” you smirk, already knowing that that is the ultimate blow to his manhood as a Statesman employee. But you were plenty mad this morning and didn’t care.

"Shit." Tequila hisses, shaking his head as he absorbs that blow. "I deserve that, but damn, you pack a low blow."

“Not sorry.” And you won’t pretend to be, either. You meant it when you told him you don’t play games. “But…it does suck that you’ll be gone for a while. Try not to fuck up too much shit wherever you’re going, okay?”

"I'll be alright, darlin'." He boasts confidently. "They should be worried about me."

“I’ll be sure to call and warn them, then.” You laugh softly, shaking your head, and one hand unconsciously rests on your front door.

He's smart enough to take the hint, nodding politely at you and takes a step back. "Well, I'm gotta go pack and I'm sure you're wantin' your peace back, so...I'll see you, darlin'." He offers, tipping his hat to you at the edge of the stairs.

There’s no use telling him that you had fun before this morning. If he actually liked you it will just be cruel and if he didn’t it just makes you sound clingy, so you say good night and shut the door, sighing to yourself as you pace back to the kitchen. That bowl of chili is already getting cold after being heated up, and you’re going to need several drinks to digest the information you’ve just been handed.

Jack.

Jack is your soulmate. Your second soulmate, which is supposed to be impossible. Why? How? Who the fuck even has answers to something like that?

******

Jack moves slower than molasses as he starts to clean up the mess he had made with his temper. The mess he had made of your life was going to take a little time and finesse. He doesn't know what to say. The anger and jealousy swirling in his gut at learning that you had slept with Tequila had surprised him, but he can't fault you when he had practically thrust the boy into your arms. Taking an hour to make his office spotless again, Jack leaves the Statesman offices to start walking back to the cabins to talk to you.

After dinner you stack up the dishwasher and grab one of the key lime tartlets from the test batch you made on Friday, curling up under your blanket on the couch with the second half of your movie and a second glass of spiked lemonade. Relaxation won’t come no matter how hard you try, though, and as if encouraged by your own restlessness - the doorbell rings again.

“Coming.” You call out, grumbling to yourself as you get up, only to deflate when you open the door. “Jack…” You hadn’t expected this, honestly. You thought it was Tex again for some unknown reason or other. “H—hi.”

"Hey, sugar." It's a chicken shit move, to pretend like nothing happened, but the way his eyes light up when he sees you isn't something he can control. "How are you doing?"

“Um…well, honestly I’ve been better.” Shifting in your doorway, you step to the side to let him in and clear your throat before cautiously pointing to the bruise blooming on his jaw. “But I think you have it worse at the moment.”

Jack snorts and shakes his head. "Nah, barely felt this." He lies, his jaw aching and he swears that Tequila loosened a few teeth. He shoots you a grin that is less confident than it appears and scrubs his hands up and down his thighs. "Can I come in, talk?" He doesn't blame you if you say no, but he wants to at least try.

“That’s…probably a good idea.” While you doubt that Tex went back and told him that you might have figured things out, you want to hear it from Jack. Either confirmed or denied, whatever the truth is. This man owes you the truth and an apology and that is the very least of it.

Jack steps into the cabin and lets you close the door behind him. Nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, he turns towards you to see where you want to do this. He's in your territory and is willing to follow your lead.

"Do you want a drink?" It's a compulsory thing, always feeling like you should at least offer a drink to someone who's going to stay more than five minutes.

"I don't think you want to give me a drink, sugar. But I appreciate it." He would actually love a stiff drink, but he's not going to impose on you more than he has to.

"If you came to apologize, you get a drink." The nervous way he shifts has you worried, but you smile despite your churning stomach. "If not? I guess...just say what you came to say? I don't know, Jack. This whole thing is very awkward and I'm trying to figure out how to make it less so."

"Then I guess you better pour us a double, sugar." Jack mumbles, not quite meeting your eyes. The eyes that have haunted him for the entire week that he's stayed away from you.

"Come on in." Nodding to the living room, you disappear back to the kitchen for a second to grab a glass and the open bottle from your counter. He idles by the armchair beside your couch so you put the bottle down on the coffee table after you've poured him a drink, and hand him the glass. Your own drink is sufficiently spiked, you hope, for whatever he has to say. At least Tex already accidentally dropped the biggest bomb that might come up in conversation.

"I— hell." Jack takes a nervous gulp of his whiskey and sighs. "I owe you a large apology, sugar." He starts out. "I've acted like a tee-total ass and I regret that. I've hurt you; I know I have and I never meant to."

"Well...thank you." It being the second time tonight that you've heard something like that, you have to admit that the hole in your heart made by Jack's cruelty was much larger. Maybe that's something you ought to be ashamed of, but it's just how you feel. "I feel like there's more, though?" Even if you didn't know there was, the way he shifts his eyes all around the room to everywhere but you would have been a giveaway.

Damn you’re intuitive. Or Tequila ran his big fucking mouth. Both of those could be true. He sighs and taps his fingers against his knee and contemplates what to tell you. "Yeah." He admits quietly. almost inaudible.

"Do you...maybe want to start with why you ghosted me after we kissed?" After grappling with that one for an entire week on your own, you'd like an actual answer. A real, honest, from him answer.

"You scare me." The words fall from his tongue easier than he imagined them. Tumbling out quickly and earnestly. Truthfully. He rocks his jaw and nods. "You scare me, sugar."

That makes you huff, shifting in place on the sofa nervously. "Can't quite see the logic in that," you admit, tapping your fingers on the glass in your hands and smearing the condensation in ugly patterns. "Since you kicked the asses of a half dozen bikers the day we met and I couldn't even do that in my wildest dreams."

"Not that kinda scared, sugar." Jack chuckles at your logic, unable to find the fault with it and is a little pleased with himself for that fight still. "I'm meanin' that it's— it's complicated." He settles for that. "I didn't mean to hurt you because of it though."

"Jack..." The sigh that escapes you is nearly a groan. Or at least something bordering frustrated. "I don't think it's a secret that I like you, okay? I wouldn't have kissed you back if I didn't. I just...even if this - whatever this was - ends here? I just need you to be honest with me. Whatever the truth is, whether it's hard or easy or complicated or simple. I just...I need you to show me that much respect."

"Okay." Jack agrees to that easily enough, nodding his head and waiting for you to continue.

"For the record." The shifting seems to be endless, and you close your eyes for a second against the nerves. "Tex didn't say anything. He kept his mouth shut and protected you. I put two and two together myself." Glancing up at him, you have to remind yourself to breathe. "Will you show me your arm? Please?"

Jack's mouth is suddenly drier than the Sahara desert. Closing his eyes for a moment before he nods and stands up. He will have to roll up his sleeves or take the damn thing off. He shrugs out of his jacket and unbuttons his sleeve. "You are smart, sugar. Don't doubt that."

"I never do." It might be the wrong time to be sassy, but the response is automatic. Your mouth is dry as dirt by the time Jack rolls up the sleeve of his plaid shirt, and it's only partially because watching a man roll up his sleeve is like having a woman put on a push up bra as far as sex appeal goes. The first glimpse of your own tattoo on his skin steals any breath you had left in your body, and you swear you're lightheaded at the actual sight of it. Your mark on someone else's body. It's enough to make you break right down and cry, but you have a feeling that wouldn't exactly help the situation.

The cat is out of the bag, and Jack shows you the marks that are on his skin briefly before he starts to roll his sleeve down again. "Now you know why you scare me." He is leaving a hell of a lot out, but it's a truth you might be able to swallow.

"It's supposed to be impossible." Even with evidence, you have to keep yourself from reaching out and touching his skin just to prove to yourself that it's not make up or Sharpie or something.

"It is impossible." Jack tells you, shaking his head at the entire situation and reaches for his drink.

"Obviously not." It definitely does explain some things. Like the way the two of you can't seem to stay away from each other even when he was obviously not wanting to be around you.

"It damn sure is when I killed your original soulmate." Jack snaps out without even thinking about how those words would land.

"You what?" The glass in your hand goes crashing to the floor, cracking and spilling bourbon and lemonade in every direction but you can't do anything but stare at him: wide eyed and terrified and more confused than you've ever felt in your life. "Wh-wha—you—?" The tears pricking at your eyes are a surprise, but only because you never considered that this would ever be a sentence you would hear in your life.

"Fuck." Jack hisses, realizing he's stuck his ass all the way in the fire and the only way he's going to get out is to tell you everything. "Sugar, I— Statesman— is an independence intelligence agency. I am an agent. The last op I was on, he - your soulmate - was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Innocent bystander." He tells you bitterly. "I killed a civilian by accident."

The blatancy of it nearly knocks you over, to the point where the tears spill over unfiltered. "Fuck off, Jack." You hear your own voice, full of anger for the second time today. "I asked you to be honest with me."

"I am being honest with you!" Jack growls, pissed off that you don't believe him. "How do you think I took on a half dozen men without a scratch? Do you need to have it confirmed?"

"Sure. Confirm it for me. Why the fuck not." You might as well be rolling your eyes at him, and maybe it's childish, but you're sick of being disappointed. Especially so many times in one week.

"Ginger." Jack speaks up, knowing that saying her name will activate his communication link in his watch. "Lock down my soulmate's cabin." He orders. "Code Orange."

There is a brief pause and Astrid's voice comes through the built-in speakers in your cabin. "Roger Jack, Code Orange." Immediately, the soft lights of the lamps switch off and bright emergency lights flicker on. The door lock flips and there is a mechanical whirling as solid metal shutters roll down over your windows and door. The bookcase that you have stuffed with cookbooks in the little breakfast nook pops open, showing an opening behind it that will lead to a safe room.

"What the fuck?" Jumping backward further into the sofa, you curl in on yourself as the lights beat down on you and the windows cover with steel. The bookcase in the corner makes you flinch again, and you look around like you're trying to figure out where the cameras are that are filming this prank. "W-was that...Astrid?"

"Astrid's codename at work is Ginger Ale." Jack tells you. "Just like my codename is Whiskey. Agent Whiskey. It's also the reason why I have no tattoos or scars on my body. No identifying marks."

"Because you're..." Searching for the word, you can't even find a real-world scenario in which you've ever said it before without referring to fiction or a game. "A—a spy?"

"I guess that's the easiest way to look at it." Jack nods.

"What's...that?" The door behind your bookcase is a special kind of scary. That shit only happens in movies or when it's a bomb shelter.

"It's a safe room." Jack provides. "A place where you can go in the case of an emergency. So you are safe from harm. Nothing short of a nuke would get you in there."

Stock still with equal parts shock and the need to process all the information you've been given in the last three minutes, you gulp inelegantly and wipe one hand down your face. "So..." It's a whole lot all at once and you stare forward when you open your eyes again. "You...after..." Deep breath. "How?" You ask finally, not really knowing how to ask about someone's murder.

"Your real soulmate was a chef." Jack tells you quietly. "He was on the loading dock of the Whitney smoking a cigarette." He knows you will recognize the hotel as the one you had just left. Another reason why he couldn't go to that damn wedding reception since he had just had a shootout there. "I saw a gun and I just...reacted." He admits quietly, staring down at his hands because he can't look up and face the blame he knows he will see in your eyes. "There were two men on that dock, one innocent and one trying to kill me. And I took them both out."

"So you just...got it? Just like that?" It doesn't make sense, but it's not like anyone really knows how soulmates get chosen in the first place. "Y-you shot him and got me as a prize?"

"I'm guessin'." That part has him stumped so he just gives a small shrug. "Lucky you."

"Shit..." Neither one of you can look at each other, but the flood lights and steel shutters are sure to attract attention, and you clear your throat softly. "Can you...um...make it go back to normal?"

"Oh shit, uh yeah." Jack shakes his head and speaks again. "Ginger, Code Green. Repeat, Code Green. All clear." He knows that she knows that there wasn't an emergency, but it was still protocol to use the codes.

"Thanks." The weight of reality feels exhaustively heavy on your shoulders, but you press your thumbs into your eyes and sigh. "So..." It's getting to be too much to process but the conversation just isn't anywhere near over. "So, what does this mean?"

“I don’t understand.” Jack admits, not sure if he’s getting what you are asking. “What does what mean?”

"Well, we're—we're soulmates." Whether either of you likes it, or the circumstances, is beyond the point. It is what it is and all you can do is deal with it.

“You don’t want to be my soulmate, sugar.” Jack promises you. “My soulmate has been dead and gone for a long time.” The guilt of her death weighs heavily on him.

"I'm not trying to replace her." The thought actually appalls you, knowing that plenty of other people might try to do just that. "She was your wife, I just—" When you finally muster enough courage to look at him, he won't meet your eyes. It's all at once that any hope you might have had shatters, and you remind yourself that he killed the man you were supposed to love with all your heart. "I just want to know if you're gonna keep ignoring my existence or not."

“You’re here, aren’t you, sugar?” Jack answers glibly. “If I was going to ignore your existence that wouldn’t be the case.” He doesn’t mention that Champ was the one who found you and brought you here. “You’ll be safe.”

"Safe isn't the same as—" You shake your head before that word can come out of your mouth. "Okay. I'm safe. And you won't ignore me. Fine." The wave of bitter disappointment that rips through you is angry and you hate it, but it's overwhelming. "So why exactly did you scare Tex off if your top thought is safe?"

“I didn’t scare Tex off.” He is immediately pissy at the idea that you would want that boy. “He came in yelling about marks and punching me in the jaw when I damn sure showed him the new fucking marks on my body.”

"Yeah, you showed him, but you didn't tell him who I am." That might be what stings the most. That he didn't acknowledge you in any way whatsoever until he was forced to. "He nearly had a panic attack in the shower this morning and I got to cry my eyes out for the second time this week."

The pain of knowing he made you cry is like a swift, sharp knife to the chest. “What was I supposed to tell ‘im?” Jack demands. “The girl who will hate my guts when she learns the truth is my soulmate? Or better yet, the universe decided that despite me being unable to protect my real soulmate it’s given me the soulmate of the man I killed as a laugh.”

"Right, but I'm safe here?" Just because you have no idea what he's talking about doesn't mean you're not still upset, and you can fire back just as nastily as he can. It makes you feel like you're being torn apart at the edges, so why not just lash out? Surely that will help.

"Yeah, you are." Jack huffs, not sure exactly what you expect from him. "You've got a job you said you always dreamed of, a house to call your own, and all the security that Statesman can provide you." He holds his arms up and then drops them down onto his hips and stares at you. "What else do you want?"

“Someone to spend my life with.” It’s what you’ve always wanted. More than anything. And getting every other dream in the world without someone to love who loves you with equal ferocity just feels like a slap in the face. You have a career and security, but not love. And that makes the other two things just seem lonely.

"I like you, sugar." Jack admits quietly. "I really do. But that ain't me." He doesn't say anything more than that, knowing it's not necessary. His life ended the day it began ironically enough, he's just been a dead man walking ever since.

“I’m starting to get that.” He’s clear and honest about it, you have to at least give him that. But it still feels like he picked up that broken glass from the rug and sliced your chest straight open to get at your heart. Like the universe replaced your real soulmate with a security guard, not a partner. And you still don’t even know why the fuck you need a security guard.

“I’m sorry.” Jack tells you, hating the way the light has just vanished from your eyes and he wants to rush across the room and pull you into his arms. But he doesn’t move. “I wish it could be different, but…” he shakes his head again and stares at his belt buckle. “We don’t always get what we want.”

“Clearly.” The word is choked and bitter, you know it is, because what you want is sitting right in front of you telling you that you can’t have him. This could be easy. Or at least less complicated. It could be so many things that aren’t this. Instead, Jack is sitting there telling you that you’ll never have the most basic and cherished thing in the world. Love. “I’ll just…try not to get in your way, I guess.”

“I’d like us to be friends, sugar.” Jack shuffles slightly and manages to look up at you. “But I understand if you can’t.” You don’t answer him and the ache in his chest gets heavier, prompting him to move towards the door. “I’ll let you be. I’m really sorry.” He whispers. “For everything.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you around.” It’s a dismissal. Maybe even a cruel one. But right now you’re feeling so defeated that you don’t even care. You just want to be alone - a state you’re apparently going to have to get used to.

Out on the porch, Jack wonders why you taking his refusal so easily stings. Wondering if he wanted you to fight, even though it would do nothing but hurt you. He knocks on the front porch pillar as he starts down the stairs slowly to walk to his own house. “See you around, sugar.”

The floodgates open as soon as the door shuts behind him, giving you the freedom and the privacy to weep as openly and as long as you need. As horrifying and complicated as everything is turning out to be, you would have been so glad to love Jack. To get to know him and grow with him and find out what smooths those sharp edges. You would have loved to love him. To have that privilege would have been extraordinary.

But you’ve been dumped before you ever knew what you had. So who knows what will happen next?

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73    

DtRH: @haileymorelikestupid @spishsstuff @missmarmaladeth @axshadows @a-gay-cryptid @sgt-morgan @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @flowers4copper @ghost-timelord @the0racl30fd3lphidos @all-the-way-down-here @bobafvcker @ficsbynight @dinoflower @supernaturalgirl20 @xdaddysprincessxx @bobawh0re @amiee-mitch18 @darkhairedmenrule @heyyimlaynna @strawberry-f4iry @3zm33atzbuss33 @whataghost @cyber666slut @nobody-000 @eddiemunsonsgirlfriendirl @lucciolaraven @powergirlsupremacy @secondsistershelby @dreadmars @androgynoushellscape @soytomatecherry @cheesecake-massacre @mylifeisbasedonashow @idiotickiddo @tomfeltonisbae @maratheidiot22 @im-nada @everybirdfellsilent @deepdarkdelights @brokenwhitegirl384 @ur-honey-child @caseket @copperrose15 @we-could-have-been @valkyries-ride @scarletmunson @strawberriricemilk @ghost-timelord @galactigoos @floridawaters @cutiepie6473 @pinball-vance @theslytherinwriter @scorpioswonder @stankyleg05 @fxdsketches @sad-innit @coffeyorky @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @starlordsonlywife @aura626 @mistresskei @marv3lwhor3 @sadimusprimee @yourwonderbelle @sgt-morgan @spot116 @milybaby018 @loserk1nks @artfulthoughtswp @aavw @babyrunsforfanfic @faceache111 @midnight-huntress @asimpleraccoonqueen @marki-moo0 @pages89 @rawr-bitches @rebel-fanfare @soooosha @luna-is-out-there @im-sylien @timpletance @certifiedhunter @ellenmunn @littlethief78 @tinalbion @eddy-y @tikibabi @whyidkok @bearcoon1666 @littlebirdsbookshelf @a-gay-cryptid @disaster-ahaha @viridiesa @axshadows @purplerain04 @karmarouge @holycyclehomo @sainteredhood @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @the-wishmonger @theliferuiner @raptorclaw24 @asp1r1ngm1lf @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @st4rl1ght444 @litholithium @tusk89 @youjustneedatherapist @nekodemon73 @iceclaw101 @lightningsface @shakespeareanwannabe @jasminemunson @spideysimpossiblegirl @wannabedaphne @sammus-white @jazzieomega @88dragon06 @ishabull @raquel-rial @tuquoquebrute @hotleaf-juice @dantaku @youokhoney @thisiswhyibleedsstuff @maximumkryptonitegladiator @jediknight122 @gadsgikklesen @movievillainess721 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @the-strawberrythief @spishsstuff @choppedmugjudgeplaid @haileymorelikestupid @gooddaykate @missredherring @abyssal-zone-stares-back @supernaturalgirl @winterandstars @severewobblerlightdragon @missmarmaladeth @noisynaia @saintbedelia @algressman16 @eaks0710 @mina2000alex @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @akaleelanie @mishasminion360 @amneris21 @roxypeanut @lunarcatbun 118 @frasmotic @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @lovelychaos420 @1432690 @no1pornstachefan @thegrimreaperbitch @esmeensheep @izz-ayes-world @kittycatcait219 @loveyou3000tonystark @tintinn16 @igenerallytrynottogiveagoshdarn @motheroftorches @phoenixhalliwell @the-dazzling-urbanite @coffeyorky @trickstersp8 @victorian-cherub @julissadunn @clarysthing @the-girl-that-loves-many-fandoms @mastersurf @theghostofutopia @ncsls0515 @seraphinaivy @hiyorinatsuki @ghostofaboy @yn-hamato @elfwriter1088 @sunnygrey99 @lexinicolenix @lazyemisfandomtrash @curiouskeyboard @qualityearthquakes @spider-284748 @unnecesarysstuff @sgt-morgan @love-affair-with-fandoms @lunarcatbun @kstar770 @kykymarty @supergingerlocks @hell0kittybimb0222 @a-birds-fin @loidforgerishotashell @mythical-writer @ghostshalo @avengersimaginesfan @sccialcasualty @lordecult @petalo-dropsart @i-quite-like-eating-carrots @svudetective @hasta-la-pasta-bb @manicpixiedreamgirly @destinydog @skeppycarnation @anaisweird @critters-beware @fruityforcocoapuffs @linnnniie @spideyromantic @paupeach2024 @faithxyu @fxramir @legomyeggo @jjggdfvvy @hi-my-name-is-riley @kasaikawa @lost-ghost-thats-sleepy @callmegkiddo @2dead2function @generallysleepdeprived   @failingclassesinmygucciglasses @thebeesknees42 @moonmoon007 @wi0na @cilliansangel @lostinsideourminds @angstismydrug @elvenmother @bilibiche @kettlekatie @preschoolispunk @djarinsstuff @generallysleepdeprived @love-affair-with-fandoms @jay-ghostly @wowieitbeme @fanofverymanythings @josephquinnswhore @this-harl0t-shant-be-unalive

My Masterlist!

[genericpuff]

Absolutely love the rendition to the panel of Hades holding Persephone. Lovely to see it rendered as a more mutual act with Perse holding onto Hades instead of just letting Hades hold her, and ofc seeing Persephone actually look like an adult woman. (Not to even mention the colors and rendering because whoaa those were lovely)

And I have a question about this new rendition if I’m allowed to make it! The original had very dramatic and sharp composition with the angles and being off centered which conveyed much of the emotions and style that made early LO very striking. In adapting it, was it a conscious choice to change the composition or what were the deciding factors that made you and banshriek decide centering Perse and Hades worked better in this situation? :0

Ahhh thank you ;w; It took a few rounds of sketching to get the pose just right, the flats thankfully weren't as difficult as I was worried they'd be, but the challenge was definitely in trying to get the pose right while maintaining the height difference that's there.

As for your question, a lot of the posing and sketch composition is something I do, and then Banshriek typically goes wild with the backgrounds while making adjustments to those compositions if necessary, often times I leave the backgrounds up to their discretion as they're 10x more skilled at that sort of thing than I am and they often bring new perspectives to the table. This means that it often ends up being a game of give and take between what we contribute, sometimes I'll have sketches that they feel need to be adjusted, other times I'll have to add little tweaks to their backgrounds if it's missing something. We're both working off a base rough sketch, but we both get to contribute to the final scene in our own ways; splitting it between background and character flats has been a happy middle that's worked well for us :)

Depending on the scene, sketches can range from minimal to more detailed. Here's the original base sketch for that scene:

So originally there was a larger tree working over the side but I didn't really know how detailed we wanted to be in the actual full background, much of it depended on how complex Banshriek wanted to get. You can also tell that Persephone's face was originally buried into Hades' chest in the original panel, which I originally flatted in, but then wound up changing because I wanted her eyes to be visible to reflect both of their expressions of relief at the same time.

That said, with the pose changing from what it was in the original (from Persephone almost laying on Hades vs. him holding her and lifting her up) the composition had to change with it so I decided to just make them a bit more centered, that way the focus would be fully on them and the balance of the scene wouldn't feel "off" due to the pose change. I tend to follow the Rule of 3 here !

So yeah! That's pretty much why centering it felt a little better in this case. Though part me of does wish I was able to keep the original pose, when breaking that scene down into its bones I found it had to take a lot of liberties with its anatomy and proportions, as many LO scenes do. You can't really tell just on a surface level but Persephone's head is huge and the rest of her body is tiny (her hips literally come up to Hades' sternum and her feet meet at his knees). With the character design changes made in Rekindled to make Persephone a little less tiny and more consistent in her body type (while still maintaining the size difference between them) and to reflect their character arcs at this point (as I'm not rushing them into intimacy quite like the original comic did) certain things have to change to balance it out and accommodate. If you're a math person, think of it like solving algebra equations - what you do to one side of the equation needs to be reflected and adjusted on the other side.

And of course Banshriek did a lot more to really exemplify the mood shift in the almost labrynth-like forest Persephone grew within Tower 4. There are still trees and plant life everywhere, but instead of feeling like an endless maze with its tones of deep red that we saw Hades navigate, it now feels like a soft and gentle meeting point for the two. Like the original scene, the color change is used to change the mood of the scene and reflect the calmness of Hades and Persephone as they've found one another.

At the end of the day we did what we ultimately thought would work best for the way Rekindled is drawn, giving both Banshriek and I the freedom to fully utilize our respective skillsets. That way we were able to pay tribute to that original scene while also creating something new out of it <3

That said, I'm sure @banshriek can also chime in with their own design notes on this episode, if they have a minute to spare! I'm sure they'll have lots to say about the fun they had working with those new brushesヽ(・∀・)ﾉ

[eyedelater]

noda-sensei's art peculiarities

(links are carefully selected example images from golden kamuy)

incredibly skilled with the human form; even difficult poses are rendered perfectly. (does he make everyone naked just to show off?)

babies are Not cute. they're ugly with puffy eyes and always look sleepy and disgusted.

clearly hates drawing teeth and the inside of mouths. notably just leaves the inside of mouths white most of the time. sometimes draws rough teeth, sometimes draws detailed teeth, sometimes implies teeth with shading, sometimes fills it in grey— it's not consistent at all. i think i've deduced that what he hates the most is calculating the position of teeth in the mouth.

despite the above point, he seems to always draw sofia's teeth because her tooth gap is an important part of her character design

sometimes zooms in and draws details (especially on hands) then zooms out and you can tell because now the line weight is a little different

3/4 view from behind (1/4 view?) of people's faces where you just see the funny bumps of their lips. and it always works

big round sweat drips that often have Texture and Shading.

incredibly skilled at drawing animals, even notoriously difficult ones like horses. though most of the animals die. especially horses.

amount of sparkle in the eyes is meaningful. more sparkle indicates the lightness of their spirit, and no sparkle indicates coldness or jadedness. best/worst example is reinvigorated tsukishima. asirpa is of course also a critical example. and i think ogata's eyes never have any sparkle his whole life.

he can draw wrinkles in the places where they would normally go on someone's face, and he can do it well. or he can decide to draw Other lines on someone's face, in any spot, and if someone questions it, the answer is that they're just like that, and you have to accept it. i really like this "they're just like that" approach to character design, and there are many examples in golden kamuy (e.g. ariko's square irises and pupils, ushiyama's forehead plate, tsukishima's nose)

really good at drawing the way strands of hair wrap over the top of someone's head. (look at tsurumi, ogata, hijikata)

he'll draw chapped lips that'll make your own lips feel real dry.

mouths are often shaped like that... but it works

eyes are usually black, but sometimes a character's pupils will get really small during moments of high tension and you can see their iris and it's light

this is just a hunch but i think he prefers drawing men over women

judicious use of lines going up from the corners of the mouth

he's not a coward: if a character's chest is exposed and the angle is right, he will draw that character's nipples, and that is right and just. he will apply the same principle to draw a character's butthole, which i don't have such a strong opinion about.

there are lots of men with very close-cut hair (bc it's the military) and that's not distinctive, so he gets creative with the hairlines. i think this is an underrated aspect of character design.

careful use of line weight on the corners of closed mouths has a powerful effect (of cuteness?) (look out for this next time you read the manga. it's everywhere and it's the best.)

consistently skillful use of ink splatter effects for blood; similar splattery effects used for snow

eyebrows and other facial hair are usually drawn as multiple long, thin lines together, and for an eyebrow with emotion, you put a couple of perpendicular lines at one end or both

strands of blood or hair extend and curl around in unrealistic ways for dramatic effect. this effect is omnipresent.

occasional really, really choice faces that were obviously drawn either from photo reference or while looking in a mirror

character design by actually giving everyone different facial features, as opposed to character design by assigning different hair and accessories to uniformly pretty people. the latter is much easier, but he chose the thorny path of his own will! thank you for setting a strong example, noda-sensei!

[rebouks]

Idk if you’ve already done this (newer follower and still catching up) but would you ever do a post on how you plan a post? Like what your planning process looks like with shots, poses, etc? You’re one of my favorite storytellers and I hope to get on your level one day but no idea what goes into a true story telling post

Ooooh hi hello, welcome! I don't believe I have ever gone into my process, no! but how interesting.. what better excuse! let's take yesterdays post as an example, shall we? 👀

First of all, we start with the premise/notes, which are very rough n' look like this in a word document...

Camping – the twins are fiiighting/being a pain, Oscar loses temper with em n almost says why can’t u be like ur brother?! throwing him into memories of Salton saying that to him all the time :[ he catches himself like no wait ur perfect I just gotta finish this, twins like wtf?? But robin ofc knows what’s going on with his pappy.. Oscar wanders off later n Robin sits with him, ur not like them u kno, what? Grandma n grandpa ur not the same, OUGH ;-;

2. I suppose this step changes depending on what I feel like, sometimes I'll make the poses/take the screenies first, then write the dialogue, other times I'll write the dialogue first.. I try for the latter since I can make more accurate poses, but time is usually my enemy here cos dialogue needs a nice quiet period to write lmao (let's call this step dialogue for now though)

3. Rip sims for blender, make poses, then head in game to dress everyone, set dress and take screenies, I take a LOT and choose the best ones but here're some unedited examples for you... In this case cos there was a flashback, I also had to remake Oscar/fam as a child n' whatnot, but luckily I have their old house saved so I plonked them all in an alternative save to take those.

4. Now we have our dialogue/screenies, it's time to throw it all together in photoshop, I usually edit the screenie first to fix any clipping etc, fix the lighting, sharpen it up a bit maybe.. but that's about it! Then I press my handy lil (custom made) storyboard action and end up with smth like this, to which I add the text! (this step takes the longest prolly.. cos it takes me forever to pick the screenies I wanna use my GOD 🙈)

VOILA! Once I've chosen all the screenies in the right order I go thru each of em in PS one by one to edit/add captions, then we're done! \o/

I realise this probably seems quite quick/vague or even streamlined if u wanna toot my horn lmaooo but I've spent a while doing this by now so ig I've kinda figured out the quickest way of doing it - still tho, I'd imagine the above still taking between 4-5 hours from start to finish! I usually spread these things over days/weeks in advance tho like.. during the week I mostly make poses/take screenies and write, then at the weekend I'll usually edit a bunch n' throw it all together, so it doesn't rlly feel tedious since I'm switching it up all the time/doing what I fancy.

[ediewentmissing]

pairing / eddie munson x reader

summary / eddie finds out who you have a crush on and he goes wild

an / i haven’t written fanfics in about a year, so i’m really really rusty. just give me some time <3 please consider sharing or reblogging if you enjoy this.

i wrote this one because i totally do not have a crush on kirk hammet.

(————— ——————)

“Bull fucking shit,” Eddie leans in further towards you from the opposite side of the table, pressing his rings against the wooden surface, “Everyone has a crush on at least someone.”

He’d asked you whether you liked anyone or not and you’d instantly denied the thought. But he was right, it was bullshit. He could tell by your cocky face that you weren’t going to budge, but that didn’t stop him from surrendering.

“How about a fixation? Y’know, just a celebrity that you’re interested in maybe?” He pushes, eager to know. You sigh huffily, returning your gaze to the homework you were supposed to be helping Eddie with. But your eyes don’t stay on your notes for long, as he gets up and sits himself down next to you, using his cynical, puppy-dog eyes to try to get something out of you.

“Okay, okay,” He straightens up, excited, “Tell you what, if I tell you who my celebrity crush is, you have to promise to let me help you study for this test otherwise you’re gonna be totally screwed, man.” He nods his head and leans impossibly further in towards you, maintaining tense eye contact. You prepare yourself for the inevitable teasing that will come out of this, taking in a deep breath before you murmur, “Kirk.” Eddie frowns.

“I require a last name, Y/N.”

“Kirk Ham—“ Your answer is cut short as he leaps out of his seat and jogs around the table in a frenzy.

“HAMMET?! KIRK HAMMET?!” You nod, cupping your face in embarrassment. “Holy shit!” He either worked himself up a bit too much or he was really and truly taken aback by your confession. He paced back and forth, looking as if he just shit himself.

“THIS… THIS IS GROUNDBREAKING! I-I MEAN, CHECK MY PULSE! I’M HAVING HEART PALPITATIONS, Y/N!” He reached out to grab your wrist, and he placed your palm on his chest. This sent your mind. I am touching Eds’ chest. I can feel his hot breath against me. His hands are so soft and rough at the same time. His rings are prodding my fingers.

His heart was jumping out of his chest. “Jesus, Eds! Calm down.” You pull your hand away from him, although secretly not wanting to, and he sits back down next to you. He gives you a confused frown that asks ‘Why Kirk of all people?’ You roll your eyes.

Eddie knew you well. You were awfully similar to him, so it made sense that your type was the same as his; metalhead and hot. However, your admission to having a thing for the band member confused him. You’d dated Tommy H, that Hargrove guy that intimidated Eddie and numerous other dudes, but you being interested in Kirk was different. It felt too close to home.

“Fire away.” You say, throwing your hands up in the air, inviting him to ask about it. He babbles a mess of a thousand questions all at once and you have to press your index finger up to his lips (his plush, pink, lips) to get him to stop.

“Slow down, Eddie. Two questions max.” He opens his mouth to protest but you interject, “Two questions max.” He holts, choosing carefully between questions, ruling out the stupid ones that he had asked previously. You look down.

“How long…” He says after a while, “How long have you liked him?” He watches you attentively as you scrunch you nose, trying to rewind your memory. You fiddle with the cuffs on your sleeves, turning them inside out, then outside in again.

“Uh,” You hesitate, looking him again, “Two years-ish?” His mouth gapes open.

“TWO—“ You glare at him and he clears his throat and tries again, “Two whole years and you didn’t tell me?” You shrug and he scoffs sarcastically, posing as being offended. “What do you like about him?”

For some reason this triggers a swooning spiral from you. “Mmm. God. His smile, his hair, his eyes, his hands, his slutty waist and body.” Every second word executed exaggeration from you and Eddie was blown away. You were close to drooling over this man that he’d never heard you talk about before today and he was awestruck.

“Christ, you really do like him.”

[anonymouspuzzler]

here's that other AU I've put way more into - the "Uncle Cally AU", where Cal was instead taken in by one Aquato Family Circus! This one is admittedly the brainchild of @friendlyfrankenstein, I just happened to take the ball and run... and run... and run.......

don't think this doodle dump is the start and end, though! There's a lot more coming up in the queue soon...

(alt text/image IDs under the cut!)

[Image 1 ID: A character design sheet for "Caligosto Aquato", an alternate version of Loboto who joined the Loboto Family Circus. He is wearing goggles similar to Raz's and has a full head of hair, with shaggy bangs and a light green kerchief patterned with yellow flowers. He has on a high-collared shawl cape with several safety pins and patches, over a navy-blue and white-striped Aquato family unitard and brown, puffy short-shorts with a deep red cummerbund. There are two patches on the torso of his unitard. His right arm has an elbow-length brown sleeve on his forearm with several patches and safety pins, while the left hand just has a red band around his wrist. He is wearing navy blue fingerless gloves on both hands, as well as knee-high, laced navy blue boots. There is a small knee guard on his left knee, while his left thing has a scrap of fabric tied around it, the same color and pattern as his kerchief. A detail shot shows him pushing up his goggles, revealing his green-and-red heterochromia and dark circles around his eyes. Off to the side is a design for his "Doctor Loboto" guise, wearing a simple surgical mask that covers his face, his canon-compliant shower cap, an oversized powder-blue button up, a apron over that with complex buckles in the back similar to canon, greenish surgical gloves, and the same blue boots as his "circus" design.]

[Image 2 ID: A rough sketch design for Cally's caravan. It is shaped like a carriage, with a swooped roof with a decorated lantern hanging off of it. There is a big window in the back, posters taped to the sides, and a hatch on the roof on the other side through which Cally is peeking out. There is an accordion-shaped, slightly curving tower emerging from the curved part of the roof, with a pipe weaving through and emitting a small cloud of smoke where it ends. The top of the "tower" has another, smaller window, in which Raz can be seen reading a comic and peeking outside. There is another, smaller lantern dangling from the tower, as well as what looks like a radio antennae at the very top.]

[Image 3 ID: A traditional ink doodle-page with various sketches of Loboto and other Psychonauts characters. At the center is a drawing of Uncle Cally and Augustus standing side by side. Cally is wearing large earrings and a shawl with a hood, a puffy-sleeved blouse, fabric tied around his waist like a skirt, and his usual striped tights and heeled boots. Augustus has a shawl wrapped around his neck and shoulders like a scarf, is wearing a baggy shirt with large, dangling sleeves, has a sash tied around his waist like a belt, and has his usual shorts, striped tights and boots.]

[Image 4-5 IDs: Various rough gestural sketches of Cally doing stretches, contortions and circus tricks. The first image is done digitally, while the second is traditional pen on a lavender post-it note. In one of the digital poses, a sketchy Raz can be seen balancing on top of one of Cally's feet.]

[Image 6 ID: A single-panel comic of a younger Cally and Augustus stretching. Cally is leaning against a wall with one hand, grabbing the ankle of his bent leg with the other, grinning and saying, "So is 'mooning over letters from Donatella' going in the act or something". Augustus, next to him in a deep lunge, holding a paper in one hand, blushing and glaring, retorts "Don't get on my case just because *you* don't like girls." Cally replies in turn, "You're just jealous the new strongman asked me out first".]

[Image 7 ID: A sketchy five-panel comic of Cally and the Aquato kids. In the first panel, Cally is squatting to secure a pulley on the ground, looking over at a young Raz in his circus outfit, who is staring at him. In the second, Mirtala runs by as he picks up his tools, tripping on a rock, causing a frantic Cally to catch her with a telekinetic hand; while he does, Raz is tugging on his arm, trying to get his attention. In the next panel he is bent over to pick up Mirtala, providing an opening for Frazie to spring up onto his shoulders, while Raz hangs around his legs yelling. In the next panel, Frazie is hanging off his back, sticking her tongue out at Raz, who climbs up Cally's leg pointing and shouting at Frazie, all while Mirtala fidgets in Cally's hold and Dion, shouting and holding a crying baby Queepie at arm's length, appears to the side. Cally, looking overwhelmed, screams "AUGUSTUS". The final panel shows Cally handing Mirtala over to an exhausted-looking Donatella, shouting "STOP HAVING KIDS". Augustus, standing next to Donna holding a sleeping Queepie in his arms, grins cheekily and retorts "But they're just so much fun to make".]

[Image 8 ID: A single-panel comic of Donatella and Cally. Cally is grinning, holding a terrified child upside-down by the ankles, using telekinesis to hold his arms and head in place, money falling to the ground out of his pockets. Donatella is in front of the kid, pointing and shouting, "YOU TRY TO SNEAK IN FREE, LITTLE PUNK?? THINK IT'S FUNNY DESTROYING SMALL FAMILY CIRCUS?! THAT YOU WILL ESCAPE CONSEQUENCES??" Augustus, in the background, looks on in horror.]

[Image 9 ID: Cally in the far foreground, motion-blurred and looking utterly terrified, running from Donatella in the background, who has skidded into frame in a wide stance, eyes glowing red.]

[Image 10-12 IDs: A three-panel comic of Cally, Oleander, and the Aquatos. Cally and Oleander are sitting side-by-side on a log, working on a rope-and-pulley system. Mirtala and Frazie walk in from the right side of the screen, Mirtala looking delighted and shouting, "It's Uncle Oly!! Uncle Oly's visiting!!" Oleander looks mildly surprised, while Cally looks extremely flustered. In the next panel, he catches Mirtala by the head with one hand, saying, "Woah woah *woah*-- Tala. Who told you to call him that??" Frazie, walking past behind him with a smug grin, responds, "Mom said we might as well get used to saying it sooner rather than later." In the last panel, a blushing and furious Cally says "Did she now," as he whirls around to look at Donatella, who looks incredibly smug as she stands with Queepie dangling from her hands by his arms. Off to the side, Oleander looks down in flustered confusion as Mirtala holds her arms up and shouts "UNCLE OLY UNCLE OLY WATCH MY NEW TRICK".]

[Image 13 ID: A drawing of Raz, Augustus, and Cally in the postgame of Psychonauts 2, at the cliff by the falls. Augustus is standing, staring out at the falls, with a hand on the back of Raz at his left, staring slightly up at him, and Cally to his right, sitting with his legs crossed, one arm propping him up, and the other up around his brother's back.]

[zoeykallus]

First off, you’re actually amazing doing so many requests and doing them WELL like you do! I love reading your stuff sm so thank you for sharing your wonderful capabilities with us all!! That said I hope you are well and taking the break time you need when you need it <3

Now here is a thought I just sort of had if you are at all interested in developing it. Seeing Crosshair’s hands without gloves in ep 3 made him seem so much more vulnerable and I just wanted to hold them and kiss them :( So I wonder how all of the batch would react to their s/o just holding and kissing their fingers and knuckles in a quieter moment? And giving kissing to the scomp link for Echo of course!

Aloha!

Thank you! Well, I'm trying my best 😉 Very happy to hear you like my writing!

That's a really sweet thought, I like this idea. Let me see... I wrote a scenario like this for Crosshair before, I hope you don't mind that I reused it here, 'cause honestly I wouldn't know what else to write for him in this pretty much same scenario 😅

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - A Tender Touch

Fluffy/Slightly Suggestive

________

Somehting like a kiss on the hand or finger can be so soft yet intimate. Here is how the batchers react when you kiss their hands and fingers.

________

Hunter

He looks at you gently as well as questioningly as he sits down, and you carefully remove his gloves. His hands are calloused and warm. Gently, you wash his fingers in a small bowl of warm water, then rub them gently with hand cream.

"That's new," he says softly with a small smile, "I like that."

You take one of his hands and place it against your soft cheek. You smile at each other, in this pose, for quite a while, just enjoying the quiet moment and the closeness of each other.

Slowly you bring his hand to your lips, kissing his palm, the back of his hand, each knuckle.

Hunter hums in relaxation and slowly closes his eyes before reaching out with his free arm and pulling you to him.

"Come here, Mesh'la, snuggle up with me".

He wraps his arms around you, and you rest your head on his chest, listening to his strong, steady heartbeat. Hunter loves these moments, and so do you. The closeness, quiet, and gentleness that you both have time for far too rarely.

Echo

As a clone soldier, he's used to all sorts of roughness. However, what Echo enjoys and loves more than anything else is the loving gentleness you always give him.

When you first help him take off his gear after a hard day, he blinks in surprise and looks at you in wonder. A small smile appears on Echo's lips. His eyes follow your hands as they carefully remove one piece of armor after another.

As you reach for his hand and carefully, finger by finger, pull the fabric of his glove from his hand, he watches you as if hypnotized.

You move closer to him and lean against him as you bring his hand to your lips and spread gentle kisses on it, starting with his palm, moving to the back of his hand, and ending with each knuckle. You repeat the whole thing again, slower this time, always looking up into his face. His eyes overflow with tender devotion.

Echo slowly but surely melts under your touch.

"Mesh'la, I love it when you're this soft and gentle with me."

Wrecker

His hands are huge, especially compared to yours. Big man, big hands. But your gentle giant also likes to enjoy your gentle caresses.

Wrecker watches you with his sweet smile while you take off his gloves. He pulls you close, onto his lap, when you're done. When you take one of his hands in yours again, he looks at you with amusement.

"What have you found so interesting on my hands today?"

"Your hands are always interesting, not just today," you return, bringing his fingers to your lips, gently kissing his knuckles.

Wrecker chuckles, "That kind of tickles, Mesh'la."

You smirk and frown.

"That tickles?"

He gently shrugs his massive shoulders and says, "Well, a little, but in a pleasant way"

He clasps your hand with his and pulls you even closer, spreading lots of little kisses on your face.

Wrecker murmurs close to your ear, "I love these little tender moments, we have far too few of them"

Tech

As you grab one of his hands and begin to remove his glove, he finally looks up from his datapad. Tech's gaze meets yours questioningly and curiously.

He asks gently, "What are you up to?"

Smiling cheekily at him, you finally removed the glove and put his hand to your cheek and snuggle up to it.

With raised brows, Tech looks at you and asks, "Is this one of those touch-starved moments? Have I been neglecting you?"

You laugh softly, kissing his palm, whereupon he more or less unconsciously puts down the datapad to turn his full attention to you. While your lips wander over his long fingers and spread soft kisses, he looks at you, completely fascinated and entranced.

"You are so wonderfully tender with me, Cyare".

Of course, why wouldn't you be. Especially Tech, who always has his head full of work and finds it incredibly difficult to switch off, benefits greatly from these small, attentive caresses.

Crosshair

He had been lying in wait all day with his rifle, and in the end he had not fired a single shot. He had lain in the dirt on the hill for nothing. Crosshair's shoulders are stiff and his hands ache.

He sits at your dinner table in the evening, rubbing his palms and fingers with a furrowed brow, letting his shoulders roll over and over.

You've just eaten, and you've cleared the table when you see him sitting there like that.

"Are you okay?" you ask cautiously.

"Sure."

You put your hands on your hips and look at him silently.

"What?" he asks reluctantly.

"The truth please"

He rolls his eyes but finally answers, "Muscle tension in my hands and shoulders, that happens a lot when you lay in wait all day with a rifle"

You lead him into your living room and ask him to sit in the large armchair. With a critical eye, he does as he is told, and he watches what you do. When you put a heating blanket around his shoulders, he looks at you questioningly.

"It's not cold"

"The heat relaxes your shoulder muscles."

You sit down on the armrest of the chair and, taking one of his deft hands, start massaging it. Crosshair blinks, at first not sure how to react, but finally he leans back with a sigh.

"That's not bad at all," he admits, closing his eyes.

As you massage his other hand and kiss the tips of his wonderful, long fingers, he opens his eyes and shifts a little restlessly in his chair.

"Kitten, this is no longer relaxing but arousing".

You look at him and ask, "Does that bother you?"

His reply is a cheeky little smirk.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaws

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@starwarsnerd111

[omaano]

I'm very curious about QuinFox with wings

It’s so fascinating to me how many of you had zeroed in on the very same Wip title :D - so I’m just going to tag the others in this answer, since I really don’t have more to share than some super rough concept sketches for poses from which I couldn’t pick a winner yet, I’m sorry 🥲 @rooksunday @lesquatrechevrons @shortmage and @insertmeaningfulusername since it is based on/inspired by their fic You Make My Birdcage Bearable. (It’s really lovely please give it a read if you haven’t!) I thought I was done with my obsession with wingfics finally, but boy was I proven so spectacularly wrong! (Also I’m gnawing a little on a long haired Fox idea, but it really doesn’t want to give, for the time being)

Something is not working here, but I don’t know what, and I’m not sure if it’s not actually the matter of the painfully shapeless idea in my head that I couldn’t depict even if I was a better artist than I am. I kinda like the ones with the landscape view 🤔 (I’m trying out this new thing where I chew at an idea until I have to admit I couldn’t do better, that’s why I have so many similar concept sketches XD)

Thanks for asking, and please tell me why was it this one specifically that made so many of you this interested? 🥰

WIP Titles for WIP game :3

[blood-mocha-latte]

a luztoye valentines day drabble for @ewipandora :)

if no one got me for luztoye Creations i know ewi got me god bless <3 <3 <3. holding your hand and please enjoy! this is, without a doubt, the most Ridiculous thing i’ve ever written. someone tell them to make out already

~

“This is one of the weirder things we’ve ever done.” George said evenly, spearing another grape tomato on his fork. Joe huffed a laugh, so rough it sounded more like a grumble, eyes on something over George’s shoulder.

“I’d have to agree.” He said dryly. “Do they look like they’re arguing?” George started to turn to look over his shoulder, dropping his fork, and Joe hastened to hold a hand out. “Don’t — don’t look while I’m looking. Wait a moment… wait—”

He dropped his hands after a heartbeat, dropping his eyes to the fancy tablecloth, so George took it as a sign to look over his shoulder. 

“Oh, they’re definitely arguing.” He said, agreeably, watching as Liebgott’s tendon stood out in his neck, Web’s bright red face. “About what, do you think?” Joe huffed.

“Hell if I know.” He muttered. “Comic books?”

George smiled, turning back in his seat and picking back up his fork. “The douchiest things you’ll ever hear of.” He agreed, and Joe grinned into his salad, eyes still tracking their friends over George’s shoulder.

“Tarantino movies.” He said, half laughing.

“Sneakers.” Joe rebuked, and Luz shoved another mouthful of lettuce into his mouth.

“Ancient Greek history.”

“Assless chaps,” Joe said, and George choked, coughing into his fist with a surprised swear.

Joe, at least, looked as surprised as George felt, swearing and pushing his glass of water closer to him. “Sorry.” He muttered, and George shook his head, waving a hand around as he kept coughing, hoping his face wasn’t too red. “Probably should’ve thought about my words before I said ‘em.”

“No, no, no—” George said, breathing still raspy. “That was — fuck, that was…” He trailed off, pressing his lips into a thin line before he started laughing. “Just. They would totally argue about that, huh? You got ‘em pegged.”

Joe hummed, deadpan, but before he could open his mouth again, George threw his hand up, shaking his head, face burning. 

“If you make a pegging joke, I’ll have a heart attack.” He said, as even-kilter as he could be. “And that would be a terrible way for our first date to go.”

He regretted it as soon as he said it, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth in an excuse to not look at Joe. He’d almost forgotten.

“Yeah.” Joe murmured, and George could tell he was thinking the same thing.  “How do you wanna get this? Just… walk by them? Pin the camera to a waiter?”

George wrinkled his nose. “I think that’s illegal.” He said.

The goal of this date-not-a-date-but-also-definitely-a-date first date, was that they weren’t dating. It was, in fact, that Luz had made a bet with Skip that Webster and Liebgott were engaged, and Joe had gotten dragged into it when Guarnere got involved, and since they lived together already, it seemed easiest for the two of them to pose as a couple on Valentine’s Day and try to catch either Web or Lieb acting any way out of the ordinary. Or, with rings.

So. Completely normal. Not weird.

George had been friends with Joe for almost ten years, and they’d been living together for almost two of those. It wasn’t strange. At all. 

He wanted to look over his shoulder again, but didn’t want to appear suspicious. “Am I good to turn around?” He asked Joe, hesitantly picking back up his fork, and Joe’s eyes flicked over his shoulder for half of a heartbeat before he nodded.

“Do it quickly.” He said. As George turned around, cheek pressing into his shoulder, he said, “how much do you get for this, anyways?”

George caught Webster and Liebgott whispering at each other furiously as a waiter guided both of them back to a table, looking all-around bored, and turned back around before they could see him. 

“Six hundred dollars.” He said casually, and Joe coughed into his cup of water. “And Skip pays for every movie I see in theatres for the next three years.”

“So not big odds at all.” Joe said dryly, and George shrugged.

“I don’t think it’s settled in yet,” He said. “How badly I’m fucked if it all goes wrong, I mean. I have to pay him eight hundred dollars, so—”

“What?”

“Basically, if this flops I’ll be out on the street. So let’s figure out how to film these two without breaking the law in any major way, because I don’t want to have to go into class on Monday with a: guess what, kids? Mr. Luz got forking arrested!” 

Joe blinked. “I feel like I should have known about that part of the bet before I agreed to help you with it.” He said, and George shrugged, spearing his final mouthful of lettuce.

“That’s why you’re paying for dinner.” He said. “I’m a lady about to lose every single one of her means.”

Joe raised an eyebrow, but the corner of his mouth was quirked up, amused. “It sounds like you’ve thought this out.” He said dryly, and George shrugged.

“I only make stupid life decisions after ensuring suring that they’re stupid.” He said, cheerful, and Joe raised an eyebrow, expression almost impressed.

“Alright.” He said. “So what’s the decision here?” George shrugged.

“Let me think of a stupid one, then I’ll get back to you.” He said, and grinned, triumphant, when Joe shook his head, huffing a hoarse laugh.

—

“I cannot believe you bet anything more than twenty bucks on this.” Joe said and George hummed, straining in his seat to see around Joe’s shoulder, fingers tapping against the table impatiently. It still seemed like Webster and Liebgott were arguing.

This really was a fancy restaurant, and George was truly unsure how to eat the singular piece of what looked like some sort of meat with a leaf on it. 

Deciding instead to ignore the plate to instead watch where the couple had settled behind Joe, he jumped slightly when Joe hit at his plate with a butter knife. “What?”

“That was thirty dollars.” Joe told him and George blinked, gaze dropping to stare down at the leaf. “And I’m paying for it. So you’re eating the whole thing.”

George couldn’t look away from the leaf. It wasn’t even necessarily a big leaf. “This cost thirty dollars?”

—

“Okay, unless they’re arguing about floral arrangements, I’m so fucked.” George said, chewing on the same piece of meat he had been for the past three minutes. Joe hummed around his own mouthful of food, glancing over his shoulder for just long enough for George to watch the tendons in his neck flex, skin tanned.

George was on his eighth glass of wine.

“I’m starting to think that Skip’s in the right, here.” Joe said, voice low, and George just huffed, finally swallowing his mouthful of fancy-meat and picking back up his wine glass and draining it. When he placed it carefully back down on the table, Joe was just looking at him, seeming somewhat impressed, and George blinked at him.

“God, I’m drunk.” He said.

—

“What if I — I think I’ll just go over them and ask them.” George said, and was only stopped from rising by Joe’s hand – warm and calloused — at his wrist. 

“If you cheat and just ask them, Skip’ll find out in a week.” He said as George kept peering over his shoulder. “Ride it out. Wait until they leave and then follow them outside.”

George groaned, dropping forward to the table to press his forehead to the too-fancy tablecloth. “I’m starting to realise that I didn’t handle this in the smartest way ever.”

He was a bit like a baby bird that needed sticks for his nest, and instead of doing the logical thing of not betting ridiculous amounts of sticks, he did just that and now is going to be out on the streets,

And he may have actually said that last part out loud, because Joe huffed a dry laugh and a hand patted at George’s head, still pressed to the table. 

“It may be time to lay off the wine, baby bird.” He said, sounding entirely too amused.

—

“Hurry, hurry, hurry—“

George kept up his brief chanting repertoire as he shrugged back on his suit jacket and ran his fingers through his hair, Joe busy with the bill and whatever else Joe was also busy with. 

“This is the worst fake date I’ve ever been on.” Joe told him dryly, finally, finally getting up from his seat and grabbing his own jacket. George, who had been ready to go for about two thousand years, reached across the table to tug at his arm, hand slipping easily into the crux of his elbow.

“This is the worst fake date that's gonna turn into a car chase if you don’t hurry that you’ve ever been on.” George corrected, and Joe shot him an unamused look but entertained him nonetheless, letting George pull him out of the restaurant.

And George may or may not have been slightly tipsy, so he kept a hand on Joe as he tugged him out of the building, trying to find his two wayward betting horses  again. 

“If they got into a taxi it is so over—” He started, dress shoes hitting the sidewalk outside of the restaurant with a soft click, and he made a startled noise when he was jerked back, Joe’s hand suddenly at his waist, pulling him backwards, behind the corner of the restaurant.

“Get your phone out.” Joe said, both hands awkwardly at his hips, George’s chin at his shoulder, and he grinned, because Webster and Liebgott were right there.

—

“If they see us, how in the hell are you planning to play this?” Joe asked him, mouth moving against the shell of his ear, and George couldn’t help a breathless laugh, pressing his nose into Joe’s shoulder as he kept his phone balanced, arms around his neck.

“I’m thinking we should either run away at top speed or kill them.” He said, Joe’s hands at his hips warm. “But with any luck they don’t see us. I mean, they can’t see your face, and I’m making sure that mine is hidden.” As if for effect, he tightened his arms around Joe’s neck, holding his phone up higher, and Joe snorted.

“If that’s what you’re calling it.” He said dryly,  but tightened his own grip.

—

“We just gotta stay calm, they don’t know that it’s us.” Joe said, a hoarse whisper against George’s hair, and George just huffed, keeping his face dug directly into Joe’s shoulder, hiding it completely from view. His phone was somewhere on the ground, since George had dropped it, alarmed, when Webster had glanced over to them, eyes staying on George very-inconspicuously filming them for a heartbeat too long.

“That’s easy for you to say, you don’t have to pay eight hundred dollars if they catch us—”

“Please, it’ll be fine, I’ll just pay your rent until you can get back the money.” Joe interrupted him, hands still splayed at George’s waist, and it surprised him enough to shut him up, at least for a moment.

George kept his face down, still koala-ing his way into anonymity, but his lips moved against the fabric of Joe’s jacket as he spoke. “You don’t need to do that.” He murmured, arms still around his neck, and Joe huffed.

“I know.” He muttered. “Keep your head down.”

—

Although not the most ideal of situations, Joe really was a good hugger. 

Granted, George was still slightly drunk, but, still. 

“You’re a really good hugger.” He muttered into Joe’s shoulder, eyes on Webster and Liebgott. They’d gotten what they could of film, and now they just had to wait it out until Web and Lieb left so George could grab his phone and they could, in the least suspicious way possible, get the fuck out of there. Joe huffed a laugh.

“Thanks.” He said, deadpan. George hummed, watching as Web and Liebgott kept arguing.

“Wonderful Valentine’s Day, huh?” He asked, after a moment, before the silence could begin to drive him crazy. Joe hummed.

“I’ve had worse.” He said, and George smiled into his shoulder, pulling back just slightly when Web turned his face away from where they hid, turning as if to follow Liebgott out and away from the restaurant. 

George turned his own face, tilting backwards to meet Joe’s eyes.

And they’re close, is the thing, and George’s nose brushed against Joe’s, his hands still at Joe’s shoulders, Joe’s at his waist. He tilted his head, almost surprised, and it brought them even closer.

Joe’s eyes are dark, and he smells like wine. George blinked, so close that his eyelashes brushed Joe’s cheek.

“Stupid life decisions, huh.” Joe murmured, so, so close, and George almost ached with it.

“Yeah.” He whispered, hands tight at Joe’s shoulders. “Stupid life decisions.”

A car honked, and George startled, turning his face away from Joe’s and clearing his throat. Joe’s palms dropped from his hips as he pulled back, hand coming up to scrub at the back of his neck.

“Uh.” George said, just to say something. Joe was watching him, eyes dark and unreadable, and George took another step back before he did something stupid. 

Joe broke eye contact first.

“We should probably get back to the apartment.” He said and George nodded, maybe too quickly. 

“Yeah.” He agreed. “Uh. I’ve gotta go through that footage and hope I can see a ring.”

“Right.” He said. “Let’s… catch a cab?”

That, George supposed, is the problem with almost-kissing a roommate. He can’t really run away anywhere.

Stupid life decisions.

[annelaurant]

ANNE'S ART ATRIUM: COMMISSION SHEET 2024

► NEWS

Slots for February: 0/4

SINGLE CHARACTER COMMISSIONS are 50% OFF until June 2024 or until further notice!

► ABOUT ME

Hi, I'm Anne! I'm a writer and artist from the Philippines. I love fashion, fantasy, and bright colors in my art, and if you fancy my style, please consider me for your next commission!

► MY SERVICES

Please check back here once in a while to check if other types of services are available!

Palette Busts

This is a style wherein I only color-pick from a limited range of palettes to create a character bust. You may specify your preference of colors, symbols, and motifs to include in the piece. (You may request for cell shade, soft shade, or both.) Turnaround time is around 2-5 hours or 1-2 business days.

$25 - A palette bust with one character.

Character Art

This is a regular piece of character art for your OC, your faves, or both. Turnaround time is around 2-8 hours or 1-3 business days.

$30 - Bust

$45 - Half body

$60 - Full body

Character Outfits

I love fashion, so let me help you give more wardrobe options to your character! This will come as a full body option. Turnaround time is around 5-8 hours or 2-3 business days.

$45 - A single character outfit. Comes with the character in sketch and the outfit in clean sketch. Flat colors will be applied to the piece.

+ 50% - Alt versions that come in the same style.

Custom Character

Want a quick ref for your character? Need your mind blorbo to finally have a portrait? Customs are the way to go! Here I will assist you through the process of creating a character! Turnaround time is 1 month real time.

$ 75 - Front view

+ $30 - Back view

+ $15 - Expressions

+ $15 - Extra details

Add-Ons

Want some extra options? Here are the add-ons I can offer:

+ 30% extra character - All prices listed above are based on only one character. Not applicable for outfits or customs.

+ 50% clean lineart - I will add a clean lineart like my avatar in the comm sheet above.

+ $5 simple background - It will be as simple as the ones you see on my comm sheet.

+ 50% detailed background - While I do not have samples on hand, these backgrounds will be referenced and hand-drawn like your character. Not applicable for outfits or customs.

- 50% sketch - For half the price, I will give you a clean sketch.

???% complexity fee - Depending on how detailed your piece will be, I will add to or subtract from your total cost.

Nope List

This includes things I will outright refuse to draw. The short of why is confidence, faster turnaround time, prevention of burnout, and a wish to show my folks my work.

Feral and mecha

Background only

Romance and sexual

Semi and full nudity

Gore and body horror

Hate and political art

Select fan content

► COMMISSION PROCESS

If you are interested in a commission, please DM me! You may provide as many or as little references as you got, since I can work with or without them. I will also give you an estimate final price and due date.

Once I agree to take the commission, your piece will go through 4 phases:

Sketch - You will have 2 or 3 rough sketches to give you an idea of what I will draw. Pick from the sketches for me to render, or suggest one (1) completely new posing idea.

Blocking Render - The sketch you choose will be cleaned and its pose/s fixed.

Color Render - The lineart will now have colors, highlights, and shadows.

Final Render - A final few layers of effects will be added to the piece.

My turnaround time for a piece is about 3-8 business hours (2-3 days) from the time you approve a sketch.

During the blocking and color render stage, I will provide an update during which to let you know how far along I am. You may request up to 3 major revisions during which. Major revisions include:

Pose

Hairstyle

Outfit

Composition

However, once your piece reaches the final render stage, I will only entertain minor revisions. Minor revisions include:

Color corrections

Brightness/contrast

Basically anything you can do on your first photo editor software

During the commission process, please feel free to bump your message, reach out for concerns, or chat a bit if you'd like! You will be informed of estimated dates of completion, delays, and other concerns.

However, harassment over my work speed, art style, and terms of service will not be tolerated and result in your piece getting deprioritized, put on hold, or cancelled without a refund. The same applies for when you cease communication with me within one month without prior notice.

While I draw during nighttime, I have my DMs open during the day. I officially take Sundays and Mondays off, so inquiries during this period will be ignored until Tuesdays.

► PAYMENT

My payment channels are through Paypal (international) and GCash (Philippines) only. My prices already cover Paypal and other fees, so the price I charge is the money you pay.

I will expect 50% payment from the time of acceptance until the sketch stage. Please note that until I get the initial payment, your commission will be put on hold.

I will expect the other 50% when I give the final render. Tips are not mandatory, but they are appreciated. Failure to pay the other 50% will result in a ban.

Special Prices:

You can pay 200% of the price upfront for a priority order, provided that you inform me of a reasonable due date.

You can avail a kababayan discount if you pay with GCash.

Refund Policy

You are eligible for refunds provided that:

We had a conversation

I agreed to the commission

You already paid

You are not harassing me, and

A desire to cancel from either you (prior to being given sketches) or me (at any given point in time).

► USAGE TERMS

The act of commissioning me means that you have read and agreed to my usage terms.

I retain the rights to publish commissioned pieces on my social media and portfolios, unless discussed beforehand. I also reserve the right to decline a commission for any reason.

Commissioned pieces may be posted on your social media and other online galleries. For credits, please use "AnneLaurant" or "annelaurant.tumblr.com". Credits are appreciated but not mandatory.

Commissioned pieces and in-progress previews will be hosted on my end up until 1 month from the time I finish a piece. By agreeing to this, it will be assumed that I can delete these works from my storage and you have retrieved and hosted your commissioned piece on your storage.

Commissioned pieces can be requested to be put under an NDA. You must state this prior to the sketch stage. Failure to state this intent means that you agree to have your commissioned piece automatically published on my socials.

Commissioned pieces by default is assumed to be for personal use only and therefore will come with my watermark. You may not remove this watermark in any form of image editing, e.g. cropping, erasing, superimposition, photomanipulation, etc.

Commissioned pieces without my watermark can be requested. Failure to state this intent means that you agree to have your commissioned piece automatically published with my watermark.

Art commissions for commercial use is subject to discussion and a commercial use fee of additional 100-200% of the original price.

Use of commissioned pieces as your "own work" will result in a ban.

Use of commissioned pieces for resale, NFTs and crypto, and data asset training will result in a ban.

Use of commissioned pieces to promote hateful and inappropriate behavior will result in a ban.

If you received a ban, your commissioned pieces may be subject to removal from my socials and portfolios.

If you have commissioned me prior to an update of the usage terms, the new terms will still apply - with very rare and limited exceptions.

[devilart2199-aibi]

Q: How do you do anatomy? / tips?

For those having a hard time sketching bodies, I suggest drawing stick figures to begin with, then building on from that! Get the hang of where joints should be and fill in the rest with shapes. Try and think in 3d.

This is how I tend to cut up my anatomy. The same goes for my more smol and squishy style. Just much rounder and less complex!

When sketching I usually rough out the head, shoulders, chest and waist since those often lead where the drawing will go and will probably be some of the focusing areas when it's finished.

I have drawn a lot and it was all a learning process, but one thing I think that really helped with my anatomy was drawing real people from photos! Be it reference or perhaps models or an idol you like. Drawing photos in your style is a great way to understand and build up your skill at drawing anatomy!

Here are some accounts that have great references for learning art!

1. @ EtheringtonBros

2. @ taco1704

3. @ Mitch Leeuwe

3. @ JookpubStock (real person photo pose reference)

4. @ kamitokatachi (3d model pose reference)

5. @ KawaiiSensei_jp

6. @ kato_anatomy

7. @ start_furuike

A majority of these are in other languages, but they do give good visual examples! (Also sorry that they are all on Twitter >_< that's where I found them over time...I'll try to find some of their IG if I can!)

I hope this was somewhat helpful! Good luck and keep at it everyone! You can do it!! ^^ 💞