#this is a semi regular post that i have to make every once in a while because it is full. of. people. starting discourse online

[ilgattopatata]

there are two wolves inside you. one wants to respect all headcanons. the other thinks it’s super weird that a relationship between a god and a demigod that has sworn undying loyalty to him can even be interpreted as familial

[reiderwriter]

Hi there! It's me :"> again I read that you're closing your request soon and I just want to put another in before the deadline haha But by no mean you should put more pressure on yourself please take all the time you need, I'm always here happily waiting while enjoy reading all of the fabulous writing you had for other requests <3 Much love to your work <3

I have a request for s smut fic when the BAU was called in for a case: the victims were workers at the local bars/restaurants, the bau!reader recognised one of the bars the unsub frequently target is the one she used to work at as bartender/mixologist while putting herself through school and asked to be the undercover while other agents supervise. After successfully closing the case, the BAU decided to celebrate at said bar and the owner was happy to let the reader personally make your friends any cocktails outside of the menu.

The reader then learned about all the mildly irritations and possessive feelings softdom!Spencer had while watching people hitting on you behind the bar, but all of that can be solved with a (almost criminally) 3-sugar-cube level of sweet of a cocktail the reader personally made for him hiding an ungodly amount of alcohol which made the night a lot more interesting ;)

I'm sorry if all of my requests are soo long I know you want to have as much details as possible but please lemme know if you feel like it's too much haha Happy writing!! :">

A/N: Thank you for your request! I was partly inspired by this post to help me out with some of the drinks orders, so go check it out for more character headcannoms!

Warnings: NSFW, soft dom! Spencer, spanking, semi-public sex, jealousy, slight breeding kink/ creampie, thigh fucking etc. 18+ Minors DNI

It had been a good few years since you quit the bartending job that put you through college, so you didn't realise just how much you'd missed it.

You thought it was the universe intervening when a case popped up in your college town, and the bar you'd spent every weekend in for nearly three years straight from the end of your undergrad to the first years of your masters degree was at the dead centre of Spencer Reid's geographical profile.

You knew the unsub had been hunting from bars, and it took only a few nights of surveillance to catch his scent, and one more of a simple cover to get the guy.

You'd taken up your spot once again, slipping easily back into making cocktails and pouring pints of beer on tap - a skill you were regretfully slow to learn but happy to see stayed with you even in your brief retirement.

You busted the bar while your coworkers tried to look inconspicuous sitting around as customers. Diligently, you served them mocktails and alcohol free beer ad regulars clapped you on the back, greeting you like an old friend as you worked to catch a killer.

JJ was the bait, and you were glad, for once, that it wasn't you, even if that thought made you feel guilty. She slipped out with a crash, and all eyed were on the man that followed her quietly to the alleyway out back.

He practically arrested himself. All in all, it had taken maybe three days to catch the guy, and you'd never been so happy to have had to work a double shift to do it.

“Y/N, if this FBI thing doesn't work for you, I'd be glad to have you back behind the bar. These college students just aren't what they used to be.” Your ex-boss grinned at you, indulging in his own glass of whiskey now that the case was closed.

He'd graciously invited your entire team to spend the rest of the evening at the bar celebrating (for at least a drink or two before his wife came to collect him). You were shocked when Hotch took him up on the offer, but happily stayed behind the bar mixing up the drinks.

“Okay, now that we've found out you're this magic mixologist, you have got to make us personal cocktails. I want to see how drunk you can get me, Y/L/N.” Emily laughed from the corner, finishing the last dregs of her virgin piña colada.

“My dear Emily, it is not the mixologist job to get you drunk, it's the mixologist job to keep you sober for as long as possible so you keep buying drinks.”

“No, come on kid, I'm intrigued as well. I'm not a cocktail guy but you've been pouring like a woman possessed tonight. Help.me out here, Spencer, hasn't she been on fire?”

Spencer's eye caught yours and your heart skipped a beat when he gave you a small smile. He'd been quiet all night, and you felt a little regretful that you'd made him stay so long in a place he wasn't entirely comfortable with. But he was still here, and surprisingly, still drinking, nursing the beer that your old boss had served them all when they'd returned from the crime scene.

“Mixology is an interesting field of study. When you think about it, it's practically chemistry.”

“I like to think of it as alchemy,” you grinned at him, enjoying the way he could turn anything into something more complicated and mathematical than it is. “Because one sip of one of my cocktails will have you thinking you've unlocked the secret of immortality.”

��Okay, if that's how drunk we're getting tonight then I'm calling home now,” JJ laughed standing from her chair and already dialling the numbers.

“Okay - here we go.” You grabbed the bottle of vodka from the counter and started, keeping your eyes focused on Reid as much as you could.

–X–

After two hours and about 5 rounds of cocktails, you'd nearly defeated the entire team. Your ex-boss had thrown you the keys half an hour earlier and called himself a cab, leaving you behind to close up just like old times.

Hotchner and Rossi had given in after two drinks each, apparently old and wise enough to know just how much alcohol was in an Old Fashioned and a Negroni each.

“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Emily had mocked them on the way out, but two drinks later and she was asleep in the back of a cab having been carried out by both JJ and Morgan.

You'd used the good gin in her Aviation cocktail, and it was only a matter of time before she ended up peacefully sleeping the week away.

The only member of the team left standing was, surprisingly again, Spencer.

You'd gone simple with his Espresso Martini, though you'd made a big show and dance about adding twice as much brown sugar syrup than the recipe required.

“A sweet cocktail for the man who drinks the sweetest coffee known to man.” He'd brushed his hand across your fingers every time you'd passed him a refill, and you'd felt the familiar jolts of anticipation pass through you with each shared glance.

Your old boss had even noticed that you were ‘sweet on that little coworker of yours,’ and you'd had to do your best to stop yourself from openly flirting with him whilst he was sat there at the bar.

You'd done it for tips every single shift, not caring about the consequences, buy with Spencer, you so desperately wanted there to be consequences that you never so much as tried.

“We should pack up and head home, Spence.” You said, cleaning up the final glass of Mai Tai Derek had left behind, but when you turned around to see him, he was gone.

More accurately, he'd moved to your side of the bar and was sliding his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in.

You gasped his name like a prayer, not expecting his cold fingers to curl under your shirt as he buried his head in your shoulder.

“Spencer! What's… what are…”

“Let me hold you.” He didn't say much more than that, but he didn't need to say more. You'd already.relaxed into his touch, eyes shutting so you could focus on the feel of his skin against yours.

“You're good at this,” he mumbled, words slightly slurred. “Everyone was watching you, they all wanted you to pour their drinks.”

You listened to each word of his voice fighting off confusion. Who was everybody? There hadn't been another customer in the bar since you'd made the arrest.

“The old men in the corner, they looked down your top when you picked something up for them. I heard them talking about it, how they thought about stuffing a couple of one's right here,” his hand trailed up to your breasts and you gasped, “like you were some stripper.”

His hands were slowly caressing you as he stood, chest pressed against your back, and you felt desire flood between your legs.

“Spencer, you're drunk, we should get you back to the motel.”

“My blood alcohol level should be around 0.11, so yes, legally I am drunk. If you want me back at the motel, be my guest, but I don't think I can keep my hands off of you tonight, Y/N.”

His words were blunt, delivered the same way he usually talked about case details, or books he'd read. There was nothing in it to indicate he'd meant to turn your world upside down just like that.

His hand had moved under your bra now, and you snapped back to reality, grabbing his hand and halting his movements momentarily as you craned your neck to look at him.

“Spencer, you're not in your right mind, you're going to regret this-” you didn't get to finish the sentence as he cut you off, pushing his lips into yours softly. With each second, his passion grew, until the two of you were caught in a battle of tongues, saliva dripping down your chin as you cared about nothing else but the pleasure you found in each other's mouths.

“The only thing,” he whispered between kisses. “That I'm going to regret, is if I let you walk me out of that door without showing you how much I want to possess every inch of you.”

His words were insistent but there was a question hidden in his movements. He'd withdrawn slightly, giving you enough space to turn him down should you want to.

You didn't.

Instead, you let a hand run up the back of his neck to his hair until you were pulling him down into you, stepping back into the warmth of his broad chest as you opened up to him.

Your other hand relinquished his, letting him explore your chest further and doing much of the same as you tried your very best to twist in your spot to get a better hold of him.

He was holding firm though, despite everything he'd drank, and had pushed you once again against the counter, hand moving between exploring your ass cheeks, and placing your hand firmly underneath you on the table so you could stabilise your position.

He worked his lips down your neck, prying your other hand out of his hair and placing it parallel to the first, before pulling your hips back slightly and encouraging you to arch your back.

You only realised you'd assumed a position for spanking when the first blow landed on your ass.

It was soft, all things considered, and he was still busy bruising your neck that you almost thought you'd imagined it.

The next one was harder though. It was real.

“Spencer!” You gasped as he stroked a hand over your asscheeks.

“Shhhhhhhh s'okay. You have a beautiful ass, I'm just making it prettier.”

His hands fumbled over your pants zipper, and then pulled them down to your knees as he continued stroking your ass and licking your neck.

The material limited your movements, trapping your knees together as he delivered one more blow. The skin to skin contact was too much and you let out a sinful moan, surprised at how loud you were suddenly managing to be.

You'd never been spanked before, never even thought about it, but something about Spencer's hands on you, the lingering scent of alcohol in the air had every hair on your body standing in excitement.

You heard Spencer unzip his own pants and were a little regretful that you didn't get the honour. You wanted to see him hold him in your hand, take him into your mouth and play with him until you knew just how he worked. But your back was still to him, and he wasn't giving you the space you needed to turn around and catch a glimpse.

“Every man in this bar tonight wanted to be where I am right now,” he whispered into your hair as he kissed the crown of your head, and then pushed your panties aside and ran himself along the lips of your cunt.

It was a night of sounds - the zippers, his whispers, your moans - bit you still weren't expecting to be able to hear your arousal.

It was erotic, near pornographic how wet his spanking had made you, and he let out small groans of appreciation as he gathered your juices on his cock.

He didn't try to breech you just yet, but rocked his cock between your thighs and cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you hooked, but nowhere near where you needed him to get you.

“Every man who was in here wanted you, and I got you. Right?” He asked again, practically rutting against your cunt.

“Y-Yes, Spencer.”

“Yes, sir.” He corrected, and you gasped as his hand struck your ass again, dangerously close to where his hips joined yours.

“Yes, sir.”

“Be a good girl for me, baby. I want to take care of you.”

With those words, he lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance and slipped in.

With your knees still locked in place by your pants, it was really up to Spencer to control the pace. You didn't spare a second for the thought that had you been completely naked with a better range of motion that he still wouldn't relinquish this quiet control of you.

With one hand on your hip, and the other curled around to reach your clit as you arched your back against him, it wasn't long before he was setting a vigorous pace.

It wasn't that he was thrusting particularly fast, or that he was doing it ridiculously hard, like some men who knew no better tried. It was the combination of how far he was able to reach with his careful concentration on your pleasure.

You felt him speed up once before quickly drawing himself back to the even tempo, doing his best to not get lost in you.

His fingers traced your cunt in a slow figure eight as first, before experimenting with different movements, shapes, words until he'd been rewarded by your cunt clenching around his cock as you came all over it.

You gasped in shock, and flushed, so shocked it took only that long.

Instead of congratulating himself on getting you off though, he used your orgasm to inform himself of what you liked, what you so desperately needed from his fingers and his cock.

And most importantly, he didn't stop.

Even as your body twitched and spasmed around his cock, he kept up his wrist movements, keeping your body warmed up as he finally took his turn.

“Tell me how much you want this,” he whispered into your ear.

“I want this so badly, Sir, I need your cock pumping in and- ahhh out of me.”

“Tell me how nice my cock feels,” he again ordered and you willingly obeyed.

“Your cock is perfect, it's so big and warm, like it was made just for me.”

“Good girl, now tell me how much you want me to shoot my cum inside of you.”

Your mouth went dry as you choked out a moan, his pace getting rougher and rougher with each thrust. You hadn't heard him correctly, surely, your brain was imagining things.

But he prompted you with a slight tap to your face, a slap that wouldn't leave any mark.

“You don't want my cum all over this bar, do you? It would be a shame for your ex boss to fail his hygiene inspection.”

“Cum in me! God, please cum in me.”

He gripped you tight around your waist as he finally pushed himself over the edge, filling you with his seed and keeping you pinned in his arms until he was sure that none of it would escape.

“I'm glad you agreed, because I wasn't asking,” he said, chest still slightly heaving as he rode out his orgasm, lower body twitching in its sensitivity.

When he finally did pull out, he'd spent so long inside you, cockwarming, that not much of his cum slipped out. He cleaned you up with a clean dishcloth you pointed to on the counter, and pulled your pants back up, quickly manoeuvring his up too.

After a brief moment of silence, you finally turned to look at him, melting into his arms again as you took in his fucked out expression.

He stroked your head quietly for a few minutes, before pulling back from your hug.

“This bar doesn't have CCTV, does it?”

[jinkicake]

Stuck in the Middle

You’re stuck between him and a hard place.

Childe, Ayato, Thoma, Tighnari x Reader

A/N: im not going to post much this weekend but i hope to post more leading up to valentines day!!! @stellakito, im sorry but I didn’t have it in me to write for zhongli this week but i will try again soon! 

SEMI-SMUTTY

WC - 2k

~~~

Childe

“If you don’t let me out of here, Childe, I swear to every Archon-” 

The rest of your threat is muffled under a large gloved hand. Your efforts to squirm out of this compromising position, being sandwiched between Childe and a wall, are futile due to the Harbinger’s strength. It annoys you to no end, his muscular body pressed against your backside pisses you off to no end.

“Now don’t swear in vain, sweetheart,” His laugh is quiet and light, almost like a whisper that only the two of you can hear. “I promise to let you out when they leave.”

“When who leaves?” You try to wrack your brain for anything but, you can’t think of anything Childe would want. While working as a hostess inside the Xinyue Kisok, you’ve had the unfortunate pleasure to meet the Harbinger on multiple occasions. Now, it’s like you can’t get rid of him at all. 

There isn’t a single guest you can think of that he would want to spy on today, if that’s the reason he’s even here. 

“Director, please don’t swallow your crystal shrimp in one bite-”

“If I choke then you can save me with the adeptal powers I know you have, Zhongli!”

You glance back at Childe and roll your eyes. Perhaps if he’s looking for information about the Wangsheng Funeral Parol then he’s lucky but, you don’t think that’s the case. 

“Are we stuck here because you made an error in your judgment?” You harshly whisper at him, nearly wanting to bite him when he leans forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. 

“You could say that,” He grins and, because of it, you don’t believe him in the slightest. You’ll let him get his worthless information and he’ll leave some mora in your pocket, that’s how this always goes. 

In the forefront of your mind, you hope that these two clients finish their meals quickly and leave.

“Don’t be so tense, girlie,” Childe’s low voice in your ear makes it hard to maintain your regular breath. “what’s got you so nervous?” You can only watch as his hands that were once pinned to the wall migrate to your hips. The moment he squeezes your sides, your breath hitches in your throat. “Calm down, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Much to your own disbelief, you nod almost immediately and too obediently for your own tastes. Childe knows exactly how to get what he wants using that voice and you hate it. His dangerously light tone always has a way with you and is the sole reason he is able to convince you time and time again to let him listen in on private dinners. 

“Hmm, look at that, you’re listening so well.” His laughter returns once again as his hand dips across your hipbone to rest on your inner thigh. The smooth stroke of his fingers, up and down, gliding over the fabric of your skirt makes you start to tremble. “I think I’ll give you an additional reward today for your good behavior.”

Kamisato Ayato

“Oh, hello dearest,” It’s hard to take Ayato seriously as he stares down at you. His gaze holds a certain fondness, tenderness that makes you believe you hung all the stars in his night sky. Your husband is truly a sweet man. 

He’s also one of the most insufferable people you’ve ever met on this planet. 

But, your heart is still heavy and full of love for him. 

“What are you doing here?” You’re lucky that the sun is just setting and there is still light in the room. If not, you wouldn’t have been able to see the ridiculous appearance of your husband hiding under your covers. He’s bracing his weight with his forearms placed on either side of your head but, he’s still close enough that you can feel his body heat transferring through your clothes. “Who are you hiding from?”

That was the better question to ask, you can tell by the small quirk of his lips. 

Ayato sighs and the noise sounds full of guilt. 

“It’s Itto, my dear, he’s in the courtyard demanding another battle with the poor onikabuto.” He genuinely seems worn out. “This is the third time in the last five days he has come by and I just don’t have the heart to push him away.”

“Well, at least he won’t come looking for you in my room,” You smile and gently pat Ayato’s cheek. “so you may leave my comfy bed now.” Your suggestion nearly makes the man scowl.

“Why would I do that? I would be a fool to leave now when you look so,” Ayato pauses and chooses his next word carefully, you would be the fool to not notice how he is dragging his eyes down your body. “relaxed.” 

His cool hand finds your bare thigh in no time at all and he immediately begins to stroke your soft skin with the pads of his fingertips. 

“That’s not going to work on me tonight,” You roll your eyes now and try to ignore how he lowers his large body over yours now, his face now resting against your throat. Ayato presses gentle kisses against your neck, heavy peck after heavy peck. The sensitivity makes your thighs twitch. 

“And why is that?” He murmurs and the sound makes you clench your fingers tighter around the book in your hands. 

“Because I’m trying to read!” It’s getting harder and harder to focus on the scenes now, you can barely follow along with the dialogue. The image painted in your head of the chapter is almost gone. 

“I’m so sorry,” Your husband coos but you can tell he doesn’t feel bad in the least, not when he’s getting to feel you up like this. If he could choose, Ayato would spend the rest of his life between your plush thighs. They’re all he can ever think about. “let me prove to you how much better I am than that light novel. You’ll let me, won’t you, dear?”

The scene painted in your head is now gone. The book is now long gone and thrown onto the floor somewhere outside of your warm duvet. You would never pass up Ayato’s touch, never. 

Thoma

Divine Raiden Shogun who rules over Inzauma, please make this stop-

Thoma can barely breathe, he can’t think or focus. His entire body is nearly trembling and it does not help, in the least, that you’re squirming above him in his lap. The housekeeper knows that if he opens his eyes again then he’ll see you, frustrated frown and all, as you try to figure out a way out of the wooden box you both got stuffed in. 

“Was this really their best idea to ambush and capture a group of Nobushi and treasure hoarders?” You sound irritated and Thoma knows that with your temper, you will not last long in such a tight space. He deeply regrets taking this commission.

If your image of him changes in any way due to this unforeseen circumstance, he might just cry. 

“Thoma, how long until we get there? We’ve been traveling for fifteen minutes already!” Given that the two of you were just loaded onto a cart to be delivered to the treasure hoard camp on the other side of the island, Thoma knows you’ll be stuck here for at least another hour or two. “Are you sleeping? Wake up,” At the quick jolt of your core against his throbbing length stuffed tightly into his boxers, Thoma sits up and lurches due to the pain. Your thighs tightening around his waist is not helping the situation at all and in no time, he’s sure something regrettable is going to happen soon.

“(Y/N), please-” Thoma braces himself by putting his soft hands on the tops of your thighs and he nearly passes out at the feeling of your soft skin revealed under your short kimono. His fingers dully dig into your flesh and he leans back against the wooden box slightly. “Forgive me but, I’m just a man.” 

“What are you talking about?” From the way your eyes at narrowing at him, you’re no doubt annoyed by this. Thoma gulps down the rest of his nerves before continuing. 

“I-I’m so sorry but, I can’t help it. We are in such close proximity in a very tight space, it’s entirely my fault but please don’t think any less of me-”

His words cut off with a moan as you purposely roll your lightly clothed core against his baggy pants. 

“If you’re talking about that then I’ve been aware of your big problem since,” You take a moment to count your fingers and Thoma’s thighs almost start to quiver. “like a minute after we got shoved into this box.”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” The housekeeper can’t think of anything to do but apologize. Over and over he will do so until he has your forgiveness. “don’t think much of it. It’s a small problem.”

For a reason he doesn’t understand, your lips curl up at his humbleness. 

“Thoma,” You coo and lean forward so that your face is mere inches away from his own. The blonde stares down at your lips and does not attempt to hide it in the slightest. “this problem is anything but small.”

Tighnari 

“How could this have happened? This is it for us, isn’t it?”

“Calm down.” Tighnari roughly snaps you out of your panic and his voice, filled with irritation, does little to slow your rapidly beating heart. It’s only been a handful of minutes since the two of you got sandwiched between two very large and very heavy bookshelves. 

“I’m never studying with you again!” You have half a mind to push the books out and try to crawl through the space of the shelf but, you know that not even a child could fit through there.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t try to close the bookshelves on me then we wouldn’t be in this mess!” Beneath his gloves, Tighnari clutches the wood of the strong shelves. “What were you thinking? And how could you have gotten stuck too?!”

“I didn’t think it would close so quickly!” You whine and can only wish that you were stuck on the opposite end of the bookcase instead of pressed up against your (one-sided) academic rival. 

Tighnari considers it to be a simple rivalry, not at all academic. 

“Cyno should be here soon since he invited us out to dinner. We just need to wait until then.” The student says this so matter-of-factly that it makes you roll your eyes. Why did Cyno have to invite him of all people to join you for a meal?

“What should we do until then?” You can’t hide your curiosity and perhaps if you could have seen Tighnari’s face, you would have noticed the hidden glint in his eyes. The way he’s staring at you so heavily, his pent-up frustration in his chest starting to get the better of him. He can’t stand you.

“You can think for once about what you did.”

“What I did?” You shriek and the sound pierces Tighnari’s sensitive ears. He flinches, wincing in pain before doubling over and leaning heavier against you. His hands now brace his weight against the shelves as he tries to get the ringing out of his ears. 

“Must you be so loud?” He grits his teeth in frustration, breath now fanning against the crook of your neck. “Your voice hurts.” 

The painful moan that leaves his lips causes your own ears to perk up. You’re fully aware of him now and begin to shift on the tips of your toes. The action is brief but, it’s powerful enough to make the man behind you hiss. 

“Stop moving,” Tighnari snaps but, you find it hard to take him seriously. Listening to him is nearly impossible to do as you press your thighs together in search of relief. 

Maybe if you could just push him a little further-

Much to your delight, all it takes is a simple roll of your hips to make his restraint snap. Almost like a knee-jerking reaction, the instant he feels the pressure from your backside, Tighnari grabs your hips and pins you still. He holds you in place as his own hips begin to rock on their own accord, it’s as if his restraint vanished into thin fucking air. 

Hmm, it’s not like you could do anything about it. 

[lovelywritinglady]

Rarities

Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!Albino!reader

Douma has been keeping you away from Muzan. He soon finds out and requests an both of you into the mansion. Because what demon wouldn’t be intrigued by a human that is sensitive to the sun. Angst, fluff. Reader is albino and therefore has the characteristics of albanism. Muzan is most likely out of character. This was a requested fic, however the original post kept deleting itself so I needed to scrap it and make a new one. Thanks to @cursetopia for requesting this it was interesting to write.

Your Pov

The room as cold and darkly lit as the only light was from a single candle on the far side of the room. Not that I minded absence of light as the sun was nearly umberable. I sat on my bed that master Douma provided me after "good behavior" or whatever that means. I can't leave or he'll kill me and my family and I can't risk that. How I long to see them, despite my apprearence they never hated me like the other villagers did. All they ever did was show me love. I curse the day that I was born. I stuck out everywhere, so its really no surprise that I was captured. In truth I hated myself and I despiretly wished I was normal because at least I'd have the chance at a regular life instead of being held captive by a demon.

The candle suddenly went out as I felt the room get even colder than before and I knew that he was here. His breath tickled the back of my skin and despite him randomly coming into my room, I forgot how to breathe.

"Ah you still get nervous when I see you, such a cute pet." He cooed that caused me to shudder internally. "You get to out today. My master wants to meet you." Douma spoke with annoyance

"Why?" I asked quietly

"You should know this by now, we demons are quite fond of humans that cannot be in the sun. Its almost like you're a demon yourself. Plus, your complextion is quite rare indeed. You're like a precious artifact." He cooed picking me up bridal style. I then suddenly found myself in a very large well lit room that seemed to go every which way. I was in awe as master Douma had never taken me to this place before.

"So this is the rare human that you have been keeping from me Douma?" A voice boomed overhead. I quickly shot my head up to see who this voice belonged to only to be met with gleaming pink-red eyes, that were somewhat similar to mine.

"Yes, my Lord Muzan this is her. Isn't she just ravishing, such a rare gem ought to be owned only by demons, don't you think?" My master cooed taking a strand of my snowy hair between his fingers. "She is my favorite pet." My master boasted.

"Tell me girl, how does the sun feel to you?" He questioned

"My Lord, the sun has always hurt my skin and I find it harder to see during the day." I spoke honestly and as respectfully as I could in a situation as nerve racking as this one. He nodded quietly and looked as though he was pondering something.

"She will come with me." Lord Muzan ordered suddenly.

"My Lord I have been taking care of this human for many years now, so she belongs to me." Master Douma spat. Muzan, without warning, then sent my masters head flying and I gasped at his speed and strength.

"Consider this payment for being an utter failure to me. I should kill you, but one of the upper moons was just killed recently, so I will be sparing you just this once." Lord Muzan demanded. Just as quick as it was gone, master Douma's head was now replace with a new one.

"Yes, My Lord." Douma bowed in defeat. He looked in my eyes and for the first time I noticed utter fear and hatred laced in them. I that look was not for me, but for the man that he called 'Lord.'

"Come girl." He ordered tunring from me and walking who-knows-where. I said nothing and followed knowing full well that if I did not, I might end up like master Douma, only I could not grow another head.

The sound of strumming vibrated the room and I felt the ground beneath me shift from up under my feet. As quick as a breath, I found myself standing in a semi well lit room that smelled like lavender and cherry blossoms. It was a rather large room with four doors, a large bed, bookcases filled with books, and decorated in many different fresh flowers. The room master Douma provided me was small and cold and most nights I had to bundle myself up just to feel an ounce of warmth. However, this room was engulfed with warmth, but not too much that the heat was overpowering. I looked upon the room freely until once more Lord Muzan was right in front of me and I found myself looking into similar colored eyes once more.

"This is where you will be staying from now on. If you should need anything on of the maids will see to it. If they can't, then your needs will be met by me. The room is connected to a house that you are free to wonder in. However, if you wish to go outside you must tell one of the maid that you are doing so. I will allow you to also see your family three times a year to keep you happy. They will also be kept safe as well." Lord Muzan spoke calmly

"Thank you, My Lord!" I nearly exclaimed at the thought of seeing my family again. "Forgive the question, but why have you gone to so much trouble?" I asked cringing at the fact that I even asked him this.

"I am not overly fond of anyone questioning me, but considering your situation I will allow it just once. Do you understand?" He quickly spat and I nodded my head showing my understanding as my words failed me. "You are here because you are a human worthy of life. Your unnatural hair is similar to that of a demons. As is your skin that is pale and lifeless yet beautiful. And your eyes that share a similar shade to mine, make you worthy of life and my protection. You, girl, are the very definition of a rarity and something that must be protected from humans and demons alike." Lord Muzan procalaimed stepping closer to me with a look in his eyes that I couldn't understand. I could feel his breath hit my face and I felt small as he towered over me. I was shocked to say the least as no one has ever truly told me I was worthy of life, not even master Douma. I slightly winced at the realization that other humans were trash to him, but I can't argue with him or else I would most likely suffer. "I must go now, there are things that I must attend to." Muzan spoke and just as quick as I met him, he was gone.

I let go a shaky breath that I was holding and walked over to the bed. Throwing myself on it I sighed in contentment to how soft it was. The room was comfortable to say the least, but now my situation was worse than before. I was being held hostage by Lord Muzan himself, but my tiredness washed away the feeling of panic. As did my relization that I would indeed be taken care of, but for how long. My eyes grew heavy and soon enough I closed my eyes and drifted off into the best sleep that I had gotten in years with thoughts of the man with similar eyes to mine.

Thanks for reading💜

Please feel free to comment, reblog, and request

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

[blinkysrewatchparty]

Welcome to Blinky's Rewatch Party!

Hello Nighthawks, Sniggles, and Latte Hattes! You've found the official tumblr page for Blinky's Rewatch Party--where we organize semi-regular watch parties of Nightmare Time 2 episodes as part of our campaign to both share our love of NMT and hopefully get our grubby little hands on Nightmare Time 3!

Current Rewatch Party Planning Polls: None Currently Active!

FAQ with all the basic info under the cut!

WHEN ARE THE REWATCH PARTIES?

The Rewatch Parties are every other Saturday, at two different times, so that as many people as possible can participate directly! The schedule for the current round of Rewatch Parties is:

HOW CAN I PARTICIPATE?

Here on Tumblr, we will be using the tag "Blinky's Rewatch Party." You can use the tag to liveblog your rewatch, or wait until the story is over to post any and all thoughts at once. If you can't make either of the chosen times, that's okay! The tag's not going anywhere; simply watch and post your thoughts whenever you can. And remember to check out the tag to see what other people are saying!

If the Tumblr tagging system isn't your ideal communal watching experience, that's cool too. We're set up on several other social media platforms that you are welcome to check out!

Also you can follow this blog! It's not super necessary, but it will make keeping up with any updates easier. Also, likes and ESPECIALLY reblogs of any and all posts are greatly appreciated--I don't really care about notes for notes' sake, but since the whole point is to keep people watching Nightmare Time, I'd love for the parties to reach as many people as possible!

WHAT OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS? HOW DO I FIND YOU THERE?

We'll be hosting the watch parties here on Tumblr, but also on Discord, YouTube, and Twitter.

The link to our discord is here: https://discord.gg/Mz2P65mt29! it's super chill and fun and there's a surprising amount of discussion and theorizing about Chumby.

We don't have a specific YouTube page (yet!)--we'll simply be hosting the watch parties in the comments sections of the Nightmare Time episodes themselves. This will have the added bonus of really showing increased interest in NMT, and getting us one step closer to our ultimate goal: MORE HATCHETFIELD!

The link to our twitter is here: https://twitter.com/BlinkysParty. We will be using the hashtag #BlinkysRewatchParty.

For more information on participating in the Rewatch Parties on various social medias, go here.

WHO RUNS THE WATCH PARTIES?

That would be me! Hello! My name is Brooke (she/her), and you may know me on here as @man-down-in-hatchet-town. I want these watch parties to be as positive an experience as possible, so please feel free to reach out to me on this page OR man-down with any thoughts, questions, or concerns. Unlike Hidgens, I promise I won't show you my résumé!

Our discord is also largely managed by the amazing @abarryswiftexit! They are super cool and friendly and the real hero of this whole endeavor.

YOUR ART IS SO COOL! WHO MADE IT?

I'm so glad you asked! Our awesome text graphics and unbelievable avatar are all by my wonderful fandom best buddy @its-short-for-jackalope. Seriously, guys, their art is so good and interesting, so be sure to check it all out and give his page a follow!

Thanks, Jack! 💜

AND THE BIG ONE: WHAT HAPPENED IN 2005 TO MAKE THE HATCHETFIELD TIMELINE SPLIT?

I actually don't know this one (though I have lots of thoughts and ideas, help)! But I do know that rewatching Nightmare Time will help us get the chance to find out. So let's get our Bliklotep on and do this thing!

[r0-boat]

Random Emmet hcs

Just a collection of random thoughts I had about him every once when I had various thoughts about him. Or things I've changed my mind about when I made posts like this similar in the past. Anyways enjoy! ( I miss writing Submas :( )

Sfw below cut for length

Follow me on this blog for multifandom writing content (mostly Pokemon)

He's very competitive when it comes to anything with competition although he's very good at Pokemon battles, because to him winning a battle not only means better in skill and raising your Pokemon but also a bigger Bond with trainer and companion he is actually happy when he loses because it still means he has a lot to learn and grow which he is always happy to know more, and he gets to see a happy trainer and happy Pokemon celebrate their victory is there a greater reward than that? But for some reason video games he becomes a sore loser no yelling no Tantrums just silent anger stowing in his Petty thoughts he'll never act out.

He was lying on his living room floor with a blanket topped over him in a T-shirt and sweatpants when he was sick because, for some reason, the floor felt better than his own bed.

Hangs up memes around the office or sends his friends semi cursed images / memes for no reason with little too no explanation. And has a whole folder in his phone just for joltik/other bug pokemon image memes, just in case he needs to react to anything he can't put into words.

I still think he likes to play scary games but his favorite ones are the ones he gets to play with his friends and laugh at their deaths. Skyla and Emmet give each other Petty nicknames and fight with each other on the regular especially over text online and in games. They fight like siblings which is funny because image is actually really close with his brother and doesn't understand why a lot of people aren't packed with their siblings. Sometimes, your sibling's actions can get on your nerves, but their family are sometimes the only ones who can understand you.

He takes self degradation even if they're jokes very seriously.

If Emmet could he would be a full-time joltik breeder I mean don't get me wrong he probably has dozens of them but I mean those breeders that have cool morphs of like certain lizards, snake and insects. Because I refuse to believe in the world of Pokémon that they are no Pokemon that are the same species but with different patterns/ fur or scale color/ breeds etc. He tried to do it himself, but he was stopped by a certain someone

Emmet cannot have TikTok downloaded as much as he loves the app; he will spend hours and hours on it and flood his poor brother and Friends with 99+ notifications. One of the depot agent managers runs the official TikTok account, and before they post anything, both brothers have to check for inappropriate content.

Emmet is either very photogenic or takes very cursed blurry photos there is no between. They'll either be a photo that looks almost professionally done with perfect lighting with his loose tie and shirt half buttoned while another one will have the lighting making it look like his eyes are glowing while the entire photo is dark with his hand coming down on the camera with a caption that says "POV: you're a bug Pokemon"

Still trying to win Nimbasa's hottest Bachelor after his brother who had one the last 3 years in a row😔

Genshin player/bias

[bell-arina271]

Living Spaces for Artists: Interest Survey

Hello tumblr, my name is Arina, and I have considered for several years now creating a living space in the US for artists and creatives alike just starting out on their respective journeys. My idea was to purchase a large house and rent out rooms for incredibly cheap, so that the struggling artist would have a means to live on their own while they focus on their career. In my search for a starter house for myself, I stumbled across two properties that would help me realize this dream even sooner than I realized. However, as with all things, nothing is perfect, and there are a few caveats. The first is that both properties are in the northern United States, which means hot summers and harsh and cold winters. The second is that one is located far from metropolitan areas, and are mostly surrounded by small towns. It would not be impossible to find a regular job in these areas, but may require a commute.

Both properties are in need of renovations. There are several rooms that are structurally sound, which I would be willing to rent out in the case of emergency, but for the most part the buildings would not be available until at least mid-next year.

For both properties, I would rent the rooms out at $200/month, and yes that would include utilities. You would be allowed up to two people per room, and two pets per room. Property descriptions below the cut.

The first property is located in Wisconsin, near the Great Lakes and the Canadian border. From the looks of it, this was a caretaker home for the elderly, and as such has handicap access and multiple entrances. My idea was to rent out the top floor to residents, and then airbnb the bottom floor rooms. From what I’ve been told this area is high in tourism for outdoor activities and the like, so I may even be able to make an arrangement to have a few people have free room and board in exchange for maintaining the rooms, or cooking or cleaning up after guests. (This is a rough work in progress idea.)

As you can see, most rooms still need renovations, but several rooms can be considered move-in ready.

Has a large functional kitchen, and walk-in cooler, which would allow multiple people to use it at once, or hypothetically, sustain a semi-hotel set up.

Several bathrooms are functional and in working order, but would need to be shared. There is one bathroom for every two rooms, and I would need to decide whether to convert a couple bedrooms into bathrooms to accommodate everyone, but at the moment, consider these like dorms where you have to share bathrooms.

And that’s it for the first property! Onto the next one:

This next property is located in Chariton Iowa, about an hour south of Des Moines. Finding a job here wouldn’t be too difficult, though it would require a bit of a commute.

As far as I can tell the whole building is in need of renovations, so this wouldn’t be move-in ready until next year. I would also need to convert a couple rooms into bathrooms, because having 4 bathrooms between 15 rooms isn’t feasible for many people.

And that just about sums it up! This post is for me to see if anyone else is even interested in my idea, but if no one bites, then I will likely buy these properties to convert them into a bed and breakfast/motel type situation.

Or, if people buy these properties before me, I’ll find a smaller property to start small with my idea.

So, that being said:

If you’d like to be updated on the progress of whichever project/endeavor I end up taking, go ahead and follow this blog.

And if you can, please reblog this, or tell anyone you think might need this, so I can see if there are any interested parties. Thank you <3

[unseededtoast]

Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Seven

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

"When they return, I'll be waiting for them."

The eerie silence of the night amplifies every little noise. Joel managed to fall asleep about an hour ago, and each time he moves or readjusts, fear strikes me. For some reason, my mind is convinced that more infected are in here, when I know they're not. If they were, they would have made themselves known by now.

Looking back out of the window, I readjust the way I'm sitting because my legs have gone numb. My eyes burn from forcing myself to stay awake, but each time I close my eyes I'm haunted by images of the dead children. I tap my fingertips on the floor as I keep close eye on the horizon, looking for anything to signify life. My chest rises and falls dramatically as I sigh in frustration and disappointment.

Standing from the ground, I pace around the small corner I've confined myself to for Joel's comfort. I knew that he'd never let himself be lulled to sleep if I stayed close, he seems to be well guarded and generally untrusting. So I was surprised when I glanced over and saw his eyes closed and head leaned against the wall a few hours ago. Only the muffled sound of my boots hitting the floor can be heard, and I'm sure it's not loud enough to wake him.

My mind begins working through different scenarios once more. Like what is my next move if the killers don't start a fire tonight? How am I going to determine which way to go? I can't just guess at it, that would be a massive waste of time and would put me in unnecessary danger. My eyes drift back to the large windows on the wall, wishing and hoping that I'd finally see something. Each time I look and see nothing, a small part of my strong resolve dissolves.

Yawning, I find my fingers fiddling with my necklace, trying to keep myself inspired to stay here and see this through instead of feeding into my disappointment and going back to the QZ.

"Why don't we trade off?" Joel's voice startles me. My body jumps involuntarily at the unexpected sound and I look over to him, the moonlight illuminating half of his face. Once my heartbeat has settled to a semi-regular pace, I shake my head,

"No that's okay. You get more sleep, I'll be just fine." My voice is rough from staying silent for so long. Joel looks out the window.

"You haven't slept all night. You really think you can keep goin' like this?" His voice is deep and quiet, his dark eyes meet mine through the shadows. A part of me knows he's right, I can't keep functioning at my fullest capacity with limited sleep.

"I'm gonna have to." I say, my words betraying what I know is right. For some reason, I know I would feel bad if I took him up on his offer. This isn't his fight, he shouldn't have to stay awake for my sake. He shakes his head,

"You say that 'til you're face to face with death because your judgment is impaired and you make a simple mistake." It almost sounds like he's speaking from experience. I walk closer to him so that our voices can stay quiet, just in case there is something lurking around in here that we didn't see.

"But that won't be on you. And besides, this was my idea, I can't pass off my responsibility to you. You'll need the rest for your trip." I say, tucking my necklace back underneath my shirt. He stares at me for a long while, like he's trying to figure me out.

"Who are you after?" He asks. I shrug my shoulders,

"I don't know. Well, you heard what I said back at James' place, three kids were killed. They were all assaulted and mutilated. One of them died in my arms. And I had even checked that area not fifteen minutes earlier." My voice trails off as I remember the poor girl's last breaths and her blood smearing on my arms as she grasped at them for help. My gaze finds its way down to the ground and I blink away the tears.

"Who were those kids to you?" He asks, his voice sounding softer than it was a few minutes ago. I pick my eyes back up and stare straight ahead out at the city.

"I didn't know them. But nobody deserves that end, especially not kids." I say and turn my head to look at him. He just nods.

"Sleep. I'll look for them." He says and stands from his position on the ground. I shake my head and cross my arms, prepared to stand my ground on this one. I'm not sure why I'm so concerned with this stranger's wellbeing, but I can't find it in myself to be selfish and accept his offer.

"No it's oka-"

"No. Sleep. You'll need the energy." He doesn't let me finish my sentence before he turns his back on me and goes to look out the window.

I take his spot up against the wall, and lean my head back. If he's so insistent on it, then I guess I shouldn't fight it. He knows his capabilities and it's not my job to take care of him. My eyes close and the silence welcomes me to sleep quickly, maybe I needed this more than I thought.

"Hey." A shove on my shoulder wakes me and my eyes fly open. Quickly, I look around, not recognizing my surroundings. I find Joel's face above me, he's standing right beside me and must have nudged my shoulder with his leg.

"What?" I ask, suddenly alert and aware of where I am. I stand from my spot and follow him over to the window, where he presses a finger to the glass, pointing off in the distance. I follow his finger and see what I've been looking for all night. A plume of black smoke is rising to the sky.

My jaw sets tight as I watch the smoke dissipate in the air. The rising sun is visible on the horizon, I must have been out for a few hours. My arms cross in front of my chest and I make note of where it's coming from, and what streets I need to take to get there. If I leave now, there's a good chance I'll be able to reach them before they abandon their camp.

Turning away from Joel, I grab my backpack that I had put in my corner last night. I shrug it over my shoulders and tighten the straps so that the weight is evenly distributed. My boots feel like they might be getting a touch loose, so I bend down and tighten the laces. Once I'm sure I'm ready to leave, I take a centering breath and go over to Joel and extend a hand.

"Pleasure doing business with you." I say with a small smile, appreciating his willingness to stay with me. He looks down at my hand and back out the window.

"The smoke was to the west, the way I'm headed back home." Is all he says and I awkwardly drop my hand back down to my side. My eyebrows scrunch together, not entirely understanding what he's implying.

"You could go around, might add a mile or two to your trip though." I say, glancing back at the smoke plume. Joel takes a moment to look back out at the smoke before he nods his head and holds his hand out. I take it and give him the firmest handshake I can.

The two of us turn and make our way back down to the street, the sun quickly rising in the sky. If I can pull this off well, I might even be back home before sundown. Off in the distance, I can still see the smoke. Joel and I turn to one another before we part our ways.

"Stay safe out there." I say with a small smile, hoping that his trip is uninterrupted and goes well for him. He's probably got a family waiting for him, and they deserve to have him back. He gives me a curt nod,

"Good luck." Is all he says before we embark on our separate journeys.

I begin walking towards the smoke and try to get into a fighter's mindset. It's not only the people I have to worry about out here on the streets. I push every other thought out of my mind and try to get back into the headspace I had years ago when I had to fight the infected every day on patrols. They're quick and they're strong. So, I have to be quicker and smarter if I want to live. The same goes for dealing with the killers.

My stomach twists the closer I get to the smoke. I don't like that I'm essentially going in blind, who knows how many there are. It would be in my best interest to try and pull this off stealthily. If I can find some sort of vantage point before I get too close to scope out the camp that would be best. It would be really nice if I had a rifle with me, then I could find somewhere up high to camp out and take them out like that. But unfortunately, rifles are very difficult to find nowadays, even more so now that the arms trade has slowed in Boston.

I keep moving forward until I find myself close enough to the smoke where I can smell it. Taking a look around, I find an old store off to the right where I should be able to get a good angle on their camp. Swiftly and quietly, I make my way to the store with no interruptions and carefully step through the broken glass door. I'm careful to keep my footsteps level and close to the ground, so that the glass shards don't make too much noise.

The store looks like it had been ransacked years ago, and is now a mess of tipped shelves and useless products. As I make my way to the back of the store, I look at the discarded items, making sure there's nothing of use that I can grab. But it looks like all that remains are empty boxes and various electronics. Nothing that I can immediately use to my advantage. The back of the store houses the roof access point and I climb the ladder, pushing the entrance open with a small squeak.

Sunlight blinds me as I step out onto the roof and I quickly crouch down so that any wandering eyes won't be able to spot me. From my vantage point, I see a small camp. There's one tent set up and a smoldering fire in the center, billowing white smoke now that it has been put out. Squinting my eyes, I see one person standing around. But nobody else.

My blood runs cold, that has to be the killer. Or at least one of them. Maybe the other one is off patrolling the area or something. If I can go take that one out, then the other should be no problem. However, it all seems too simple, too easy. Something just doesn't feel right to me. But, maybe I'm just overthinking this and it really is going to be this simple.

I wait for a few more minutes before I leave the rooftop, just to be sure nobody else is going to show up. I don't hear anyone in the distance, so I have to guess that the coast is clear, or at least will be clear enough for me to get down there and take down the person I saw.

I stay crouched as I make my way to the camp, grabbing the curved blade out of my belt and holding it tightly in my hand. All of my focus is on staying quiet and making smart moves. My mouth goes dry as I approach the edge of the camp. Hiding behind a building, I peek out to make sure nobody else somehow showed up.

The same person is standing by their tent with their back facing me. It strikes me as odd, but maybe they got their hands on some pills and are too spaced out to know what's going on. Before I leave my cover behind the building, I close my eyes and say a silent prayer with shaky breaths.

My eyes open and I'm focused on one thing only. To kill the man that stands a few feet from me. I turn the corner and take calculated steps, avoiding debris on the ground. My breath is silent, but my heartbeat sounds incredibly loud. The man isn't turning around, he's standing oddly still and it sends a familiar panic through my body.

I freeze in my tracks as my boot steps on a rogue twig, probably meant to fuel the fire but never got used. Within the blink of an eye, the man turns around and it doesn't take me long to register that he's not alive, well, not humanly. The man's reanimated body screams out and runs toward me, hands outreached to grab me.

I dodge his swing and plunge my knife towards his head. The recently-turned man is fast, and my knife only catches a few inches of his throat. I don't have enough time to react to the missed slash before I'm tackled to the ground, the man's teeth inch closer and closer to my neck as I try to fight him off.

My panic somehow makes me more focused, and old maneuvers feel like muscle memory. I bring my knee up and hit the man, throwing off the equilibrium so I can get the upper hand. As he's thrown off balance, I use the momentum from my kick to bring my body above his, my hips straddling his torso. Without thinking, I raise my knife and bring it down into the man's head. His body goes limp and twitches as he dies once again.

Blood splatters my hands and forearms as I pull the knife from the man's skull. I use the man's green shirt to clean my blade and then I stand from the ground, looking down at the corpse. He looks recently turned, maybe a few hours old at this point. Turning around, I look for any more runners that may have been tipped off to the struggle, but find nothing except empty streets and silence.

Taking advantage of an empty camp, I start rummaging around for anything they left behind. I check the man's pockets first, finding nothing but an old cigarette. Next, I search the tent and find an old map shoved underneath the sleeping bag. Unfolding the map, I see several marks on it.

The Boston QZ is circled, and I see a few other cities with the same circle. Other places are marked with the Firefly symbol. Sprinkled throughout the country there are some areas marked with stars. One location is marked with a large 'T'.  There's no indication of what these symbols mean, but I can deduce some things from common sense. I can only guess that the circles represent QZ areas and the Firefly symbol is where known Firefly outposts are; that much is fairly obvious. The T might represent where these people came from, but it's all the way out in Nebraska. As for the stars, I don't have the faintest idea.

I fold the map up and put it in my bag to study later once I'm not out in the open. The rest of the tent holds nothing of value to me and so I move out and check the fire. There are scraps of paper in there mixed with twigs. Reaching in, I grab the largest scraps I can find, and see that there's only a few legible words left on each. The one scrap says "eliminate" and the other says "immune".

Moving on and not dwelling on what those words might mean, I tear apart the rest of the camp to look for anything useful. Beside the fire there's a second sleeping bag and I reach my hand down in it, pulling out another piece of paper. These people love writing notes to one another it seems.

The words on the paper are a lot more useful than the scraps I found in the fire. I read it quickly and read it a second time, not believing what I'm seeing. The note is almost like an instruction guide. It tells whoever was here what their mission was. It looks like their mission was to hit all the QZ's in the northeastern part of the United States and kill children between the ages of thirteen and seventeen indiscriminately. It doesn't say why, but on the bottom of the paper the Firefly logo is drawn.

I put the paper in my bag along with the scraps and map. What do the Fireflies have to do with this? Going back to the man's body, I look for the telltale sign of the Fireflies, but see no pendant around the man's neck. But what I do find is the letter 'T' carved into the skin of his chest.

Making sure there's nothing else to find in the camp, I move on so that if someone does come by I'm not caught off guard. I return to the store rooftop to monitor the camp some more. If someone does come back, they'll need to be killed for their involvement as well. Nobody is going to be spared from this group if I can help it.

The sunlight begins fading, and it's becoming abundantly clear to me that nobody is coming back to this camp. Infected probably came by and they scrambled, leaving their friend to his undead fate.

Back on the move, I decide to go west. I know there's more of these people out here and if I'm right about the map, they might be going back to where they came from in Nebraska. And even if they aren't going there now, they will eventually. And when they return, I'll be waiting for them.

[yarnings]

The other day I got on the bus to come home from the mall/edge of the city transit terminal, and there were a couple of Plain Mennonite ladies, obviously in from one of the routes through the townships, taking the bus to an appointment of some kind. They weren't quite sure about which bus they were taking (since they obviously hadn't used a website to find their route), and because their destination was very close to mine (and in my usual stomping grounds) I helped make sure they knew where to get off the bus and where to go once they were there.

But it got me to thinking - I grew up without bus schedules, because the TTC didn't really put them out for the routes by my house. * But once I moved (and once the undergrad bus pass came in) I got used to carrying a collection of bus schedules in my purse. (Basically every bus that I took on a semi-regular basis I carried a schedule for. The schedules listed all the stop numbers, so I could call for the real-time departure info and plan accordingly).

But buses no longer have the schedule (including the route map) in a little box at the front of the bus. There isn't even a main bus terminal anymore, but while the rack of bus schedules was still there the last time I visited, I don't think it was stocked. The new customer service centre definitely doesn't have that rack. My kids have the relevant bus schedules downloaded onto their smartphones. (At this point it happens on a trip-by-trip basis, as we plan the route that they'll take out and back). You can still get paper schedules, if you go to city hall. Given that this is also where public health is located, and where the in-person offices for Ontario Works (welfare) are located, it would be one of the last places to lose the paper schedules.

But city hall was also one of the last places in the downtown core to have a buggy shed. (It's not there anymore. And by the time I saw it, 10 years ago, I really doubt it was still being used. I have seen... approximately one buggy in the urban centre in the time I've been here). While the schedules are presumably still where they are because marginalized people need access to them, how much of the fact that they exist for my transit system is because we have many more horse-and-buggy folks using it than the average system does.

This is a long way around to say that I think that post that suggests you need to learn non-computer ways to do a bunch of things isn't wrong. However remember that a lot of those things used to be a lot easier to do, and aren't necessarily worth the investment of your time. Navigating your bus system is one of them. Does your system even still have paper maps? (Now, I would argue that learning to plan your route using the pdf maps, whether of the individual routes or the system, is worth doing. But the way to learn to navigate the system without those is to ride it a lot. While that's a useful skill, please don't try to magically jump to it, given that you don't have the tools we used to use.)

*Technically they did, but they just gave frequencies, not times, even on Sundays when the bus only came every 10 minutes.

[strawberryya]

heavens incarnate

Wooyoung x reader

synopsis: Once upon a time a hungry succubus met the modern day sex god while on a mission… They lived happily ever after fucking each other instead of silly mortals.

word count: 931

genre/contains: smut, succubus/sex god au, pegging, dumbification kink, cumeating, sex god!wooyoung, bottom!wooyoung, succubus!reader, use of strap-on, degradation kink.

rating: 18+

a/n: I wrote this at work 🤭I had a lot of fun… fourth admission for arousal august hosted by @wooyoungmybelovedhusband and @taehyungisminee !!

my arousal august masterlist

original event for arousal august

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“There! Right there!!” He moaned prettily, his back arching while you pounded into his little hole. His eyes were almost crossing as every stroke elicited moans and pleas from Wooyoung’s plush lips.

He may be Eros reborn, but over you, he had no power. Or well, that depends on how you see power. Because you did do anything within your powers to satisfy him, and you felt famished whenever you had to go for too long without his sultry whispers in your ears.

You were a succubus, of course, he could get you into bed with him within five minutes, but power? No, you were the one in charge. Right? The pretty angel couldn’t have any control over the demon currently using him for sex. It just wasn’t possible, you were sure of it.

Right now, however, you couldn’t think straight, you felt the strap-on getting sucked into his ass, his second orgasm approaching with every thrust of your hips and flick of your wrist. He was pulsating in your hand, his tip leaking again, and the leftover cum from the last high soiling the bedroom floor right beside the large bed. You had tasted his salty cum before, deciding that once wouldn’t be enough for you to feel satiated this time. You craved him, like candy. He needed to be fucked stupid if you were to be anything but starving as you left his penthouse apartment.

A god isn’t to be trifled with, but this one, Wooyoung, wasn’t the regular type. He loved being trifled with more than anything.

You had met him as you were both visiting a mortal centuries ago, you were both trying to get the human into bed with you and ended up fucking each other instead. Typical.

Neither of you had expected that the other would end up being the best hookup you had ever experienced. It wasn’t an unwelcome surprise though, and since then, you had met up on a semi-regular basis, fucking each other senseless every other week or so depending on how your hunting season was going. To live you needed sex, you needed the orgasms you could give others and that they could give you to continue your never ending existence. Cum was what you craved, and Wooyoung gave you it each time.

He didn’t need it to survive, however, he did want it. Badly.

He was the god of love in modern times, he was a sex god personified. Heavens incarnate, and sleeping with a demon.

He was drooling as you continually pressed the tip of the toy against his prostate, he was losing his mind. It was as if you knew exactly how far and how hard he needed you to go without a single word. That didn’t stop him though, he was still babbling like a slut who had never gotten some good dick before.

“Ah, please, more, just like that!” He moaned when you grabbed his neck to support the harsh thrusts, he clenched at the feeling of your fingers wrapped around his neck. “So… full,” he gasped as you fully pushed your large strap on into him, stretching his hole and making him see double where he stood, legs spread for you as he let you use his body as you pleased.

“My little toy, feeling full tonight?” You cooed and received a high pitched moan in reply. “That’s good, we need you feeling real full and stretched out to make me happy. Gonna need you to be just a little dumb slut that loves my cock so much you would cum over and over for me.”

“I’m a dumb slut! I’m your dumb slut, only yours,” he gasped as you pounded rhythmically into him. He was lying, you pulled at his hair, making him lean back onto your chest. His back arched enough for you to keep fucking into him slowly, he was close to whining about needing to be fucked harder when you nibbled on his ear, mumbling “Mine? You are a dumb slut, alright, but we both know you let anyone that wants use this pretty mouth and ass of yours.”

You threw him forward again, using his arms behind his back to pull him towards your hips, slamming into him harder than before, the slapping sound of his ass meeting your thighs echoing in the apartment. His cum shot out of his reddened cock, his groans as he came on the bedsheets before him and his thighs that were now covered in his enormous load. You licked your lips, he was feeding you so well tonight, he might have been fucked stupid but he was as gorgeous as ever when you turned him around, his ass clenching around nothing as he whined, missing your cock in him already. You bent down, licking up his cum from his thighs and softening dick.

He whined, “I want more, don’t wanna stop,” he pouted, tears stained his cheeks, he was never going to be able to get enough, he loved what you did to him every single time. It didn’t matter that you had been doing this for centuries, he would never get enough. Small pecks on his torso had him looking down, “You’re so cute when you can’t think. Wanna help get me off now?” He nodded, willing to do whatever you needed, heat spreading on his cheeks as he watched your beautiful body on top of him. He was ready for more. Maybe he did have some sway over you, because you weren't hungry anymore, but you wanted to sleep with him again…

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

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[aroaceleovaldez]

I’m a bit nervous about sending an ask, but the curiosity has won me over, hope this isn’t too many questions

You said you headcannon Leo Valdez as dragon kin so I was wondering, do you think he has shifts often, if at all? If so, does he generally have some types of shifts more often or is it more balanced? And do the other campers and the seven know? If they do, did he tell them or did they piece it together on their own? If he told them, did he have to explain a lot or were they kind of just like “okay” and didn’t question it a lot? Like they just accepted it and didn’t want to overstep or something is what I mean

I think maybe I’m overthinking this, I really hope I’m not asking too many questions or anything

It's no worries at all! Asks/questions are always welcome!

I think his most usual shifts would be teeth/scales, but they're a lot more subtle so he either doesn't notice them as much or can ignore them. Those ones are probably semi-regular for him but again, more subtle most of the time (most of the time... every once in awhile he gets hit with a stronger maw shift and he's just sitting there gnashing his teeth at the air for like an hour cause his mouth feels weird until it goes away). Maybe also horns.

Less common ones for him but ones he'd notice more are probably wings, tail, and talons. Talons i mostly just think would be funny for him cause he has his habit of tapping his fingers as a stim. Him getting tripped up from the phantom talons while trying to stim, being confused for a minute about why his fingers aren't touching the table and he just ends up tapping out morse code into the air a couple inches above his desk instead. Wings and tail would probably just be pretty standard phantom limbs - they're just there and he's aware of them and maybe able to move them a bit. I imagine he'd eventually try to make some 'kin gear to help with those shifts specifically just so his brain stops error 404ing when his dragon limbs pass through solid objects despite his brain thinking they should be able to tangibly interact.

I don't think Leo would know what otherkin/alterhuman is when he first meets the Argo II crew, and probably wouldn't get the opportunity to learn about it for awhile. He doesn't really have the vocabulary to explain how he's feeling - just that he Is A Dragon. The rest of the crew probably also doesn't know what otherkin/alterhuman is either so they don't have an explanation for him, but, yknow, demigod life is already so goddamn weird, if Leo says he's a dragon that's not the most abnormal thing they've heard that week and they'll just take his word for it and accept it. And Jason probably understands the feeling re: being a wolf therian, even though he doesn't have the vocabulary to explain it either, so there's at least some solidarity there.

Earlier on I think Leo would just crack a lot of jokes about being a dragon, not particularly explaining how he feels about it to the others but just kind of putting the concept out there. He might try to explain it if the topic comes up but, as mentioned before, just struggle too much to try and find the words for it (the adhd/dyslexia/autism wording problems do not help there). I do like to think though that, due to their Hades/Pluto kid soul powers, Nico and Hazel would actually be able to pick up on spiritual-origin otherkin/therians/etc if they focused on it - Nico in particular, probably a lot more passively - and be able to kind of see phantom limbs/shifts sometimes (cause goodness knows how souls/spirit stuff works in the Riordanverse and I can have my self-indulgent silly alterhuman worldbuilding hcs if i want to - also at least partially inspired by some journal posts i've read of people mentioning people/animals/automatic doors picking up on their phantom limbs and being able to track the movement and stuff. if any demigod would be able to do that it's gonna be the kids with literal soul/phantom powers). I just find the concept amusing of Leo trying to explain this extremely metaphysical experience and Nico's just off to the side like "Oh yeah no, your soul is a dragon. Like, very literally. Dunno how that happened but good for you. btw why do you have ghost wings sometimes?" And Leo's grateful for someone helping him explain it but also isn't sure how he should react to statement. Eventually though one of the crew stumbles across alterhuman stuff - probably Leo or Annabeth, most likely accidentally through looking into daemonism stuff (you know they both read His Dark Materials) - and they put two and two together and finally have a means to explain it and Leo could not be more relieved (though he still doesn't know how to feel about Nico's soul comments).

I love rotating alterhuman demigods in my brain

[temptaetions]

boys like you 🌷 h.hj (m)

a/n: the photo above is from hyunjin’s marie claire shoot. i do not own the photo. that being said, this fic was originally posted by me on a different, now defunct blog, i own this fic. it was formerly titled “corre, amor.” i have since deleted it from that blog and am reposting a revised version on this blog. again, i wrote this fic and it is 100% my own. i also feel super self conscious about it. be nice plz.

synopsis: hwang hyunjin is like a burning fire - dangerous, passionate, and at times, hard to dissipate. you were frozen from within, your exterior only soft to his touch. when you are his polar opposite, it should be easy to melt at his fingertips, shouldn’t it?

genre: established relationship au | breakup au | x fem!reader | smut | angst | fluff

pairing(s): dancer!hwang hyunjin x poet!fem!reader | lee minho x han jisung

word count: 8.5k. lowercase intended.

rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.

warnings: swearing, one-sided pining, minimal romantic fluff, some angst, minimal smut [between h.hj x reader: some degradation, heavy petting, heavy make-out session, handjob/semi-oral, nipple play, cum eating / swapping.] hyunjin has body piercings (nipples and belly button.)

what to listen to: advice - taemin | do it for love - thama, george | play with fire - sam tinnesz, yacht money | know me - dpr live, dean | different - woodz

everyone was convinced that your relationship with hyunjin was one-sided. from the outside looking in, you could understand why. oftentimes, it was him scouring the university in search of you, and yes, he had a photo of you in his phone case and his car dashboard. the boy you’d come to adore was nearly six feet of pure love for you — he even dedicated his showcase stages to you, choosing only the most sensual of love songs to show the student body that he was a burning fire.

and yet, as much as you loved hwang hyunjin, you remained solid. unmelted was your icy form, and as the time went on, people had begun to notice. slipping away from crowds after his showcases and losing hyunjin in them became a regular thing, and the apartment was often empty because neither of you were ever really home. much like your eyes when you looked at him these days, what used to be the world to you now reflected a beautiful blonde man with the prettiest lips this side of the han river. you still loved him, you’d convinced yourself of such. the only question left was, was it in the way he did?

once upon a time, all your poems screamed his name. from long winded monologues to neat, tight haikus, your words were stringed together to recreate the man you woke up next to every day for the past three years. exasperated sighs during your poetry slams showed the way your feelings for this man ate you up inside and god, you just couldn’t believe you’d finally found a good guy. a man that was the healing of the past and the brightening of the future, the man who truly made your days enjoyable. 

“good morning,” hyunjin was stretching in the living room as you allowed your sleep-deprived body to practically float through the apartment. lack of sleep due to the endless thinking and stress over school made you a zombie — one who didn’t have much of a knack for social interaction. nonetheless, you returned the sarcastic greeting, seeing as it was two in the afternoon on a nice sunday. the coffee in the pot was cold as you poured it, and you scowled as you grabbed some ice cubes but you couldn’t complain. had you been up on time, it would’ve been hot, you can hear hyunjin now.

“mm, you look nice,” you murmur as you slide onto the couch, watching your boyfriend’s shirt ride up slightly on his waist, exposing the sliver of skin you ran your fingers down before bed. he simply chuckled at your comment, a faint blush dancing across his cheeks as he continued his hip warm ups. “you’ve got rehearsal tomorrow after class, right?” sipping your coffee quietly, you saw hyunjin nod softly as he laid down on his mat. “yeah, unfortunately. i have to rain check our dinner tomorrow night, m’sorry, doll.” he closes his eyes as he rests his arms on his torso, and you slip off the couch to run your fingers through his soft hair. admiring him, you stroke his cheek gently as he opens his eyes, placing his hand above yours.

“your big showcase is coming up. dinner can wait, i’m always by your side.” you assured him of things you weren’t so sure of yourself, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. his eyes changed as you said that, but he nodded reluctantly as you placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “don’t practice too hard, my love. you know it worries me. i’ll be in the office if you need me.” 

“‘course, honey. don’t type your fingers off,” he’s muttering to himself, and he knows how much it bothers you but even the people who are supposedly perfect have bad days. a nice guy, really. “i heard that, pipsqueak.” you call back, placing your coffee cup on your desk, leaving the door slightly ajar to hear his recital music. as soon as you hear the first notes of the remix changbin made for him, minho and felix, you ease into your desk chair. closing your own eyes, you can see his movements in your mind from hours of watching them practice this routine, specifically two years ago when the dance team uploaded it to youtube. they planned on recreating it to see where it could take them, as a trio — seeing as the fluidity of the boys raked in millions of views, and thousands of dollars in donations to the school and the dance team.

none of which hit the creative writing and poetry department, but hey, the poetry slam videos didn’t do as well. to be fair, the poetry slam club didn’t do much to raise money but turned around to ask mommy and daddy — whereas, you worked for your fifty cents. unfortunately, your major had a huge influx of people who didn’t quite really appreciate the time and effort that it took to make your art — and a lot of them were actually there to please their parents, to say they went to college. as sad as it was, you realized your freshman year that you were surrounded by maybe a third of your class with an actual passion for writing, and even then, you would hear them mouth off about your classes being an easy a.

it sometimes made you wish to have picked a different field, at a different university. maybe even if you had pursued journalism like you had intended...maybe things would be different. you often notice your mind wandering off to these places, and you remind yourself you wouldn’t have met hyunjin. so, maybe things worked out in the end — even if you did watch your old friends travel out of the country on externship to major news companies and even land jobs before graduation. jobs you couldn’t pay to get, and so, you worked part-time at the italian restaurant down the street and hid from any possible peers that may come your way.

“y/n-ah, you promised me i’d score some free breadsticks if i brought you the coffee!” jisung was whining as you bagged up his order, missing the way you shot your coworker a knowing glance, chuckling to yourself. “yah! did your mother not teach you manners? i know what i said, now keep quiet while minho gets them.” you give him a pointed look, and he scowls as you take the warm bread bag and slip it into his knapsack. “love you, bud. take it easy, i know that ankle is killing you.” you pat his shoulder, and he smiles inwardly as he takes the bag shyly, whirling out of the shop with a soft call of goodbye.

“how’s hyunjin?” minho inquires, pouring some olive oil into his calzone dough mix. you watch as he turns the mixer on, leaning your cheek on the heel of your hand. you gave your friend a sad look, and he sighed as he took in the atmosphere. “i take it you’re feeling detached?”

“and i hate it. hyunjin is literally my best friend, he is the absolute love of my life! i don’t know what’s going on anymore.” you bury your face in your hands, letting out a groan of frustration. only minho knew of your inner turmoil, and that was because you knew he’d understand. he too, was in the same situation. the only difference was that he could give you a hyunjin perspective — because it was jisung that felt the way you did. but if you told jisung, there was a small possibility he would spill the beans — not on purpose, but it would happen eventually. minho was like a steel safe enclosed in another one that was bolted into the ground.

“you need to talk to him before he starts prying. why do you think jisung left without a word to me?” he’s kneading the dough angrily, and you wince at every harsh smack that lands. “do you think i enjoy coming home to an empty bed, while jisung is out late with chan-hyung and changbin? do you think i like opening my hulu account to see he’s watched seven episodes of how i met your mother without me? this is fucking ridiculous,” he was now rolling out the dough, the warm container of fresh marinara sauce nearly being spilt with the vigor in which the table was shaking.

“you seriously need to talk to him, babe.” you turn as the doorbell dings, and you’re met by the prettiest soul this side of the han river — hyunjin. feeling a small smile slip onto your face, you return to the register to see him smiling back at you. “why hello, how may i help you?” 

“hello, miss. i’m looking for a certain y/n, i’ve come to whisk her away for supper.” he’s holding a brown bag, and you just know there’s a steamy bowl of soft tofu stew waiting to be devoured. “i adore you, hwang hyunjin.” you skirt around the counter to kiss his lips softly, hands resting on his cheeks as one of his own comes to your waist, the tips of his fingers settling in your back pocket.

“minnie, i’ll be back in thirty!” you call out, and the boy waves you off with a chuckle. despite the obvious problems that you were skirting around, minho knew that you would always adore hyunjin, boyfriend or not.

physical attraction was also not an issue — he was gorgeous, but you hated reducing him to that, and anyone who did was immediately on your hit-list. hyunjin had talent, skill, and one of the kindest hearts you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. hyunjin was what you could call an all-rounder — he was efficient in every area of his life, including his relationship. which made you realize that perhaps, it was your lack of experience in relationships, in being treated nicely.

“i love those jeans on you,” hyunjin says as you walk hand-in-hands towards the back parking lot. “you say that because you bought them for me, even after i said i didn’t need them.” you roll your eyes as hyunjin lets go of your hand, instead using it to open the backseat door for you. this was routine, on days that hyunjin didn’t have late practices or managed to leave early — he would buy something you both loved, drive to your workplace, steal you from minho for a bit to grub, and then wait at home for you until you called to be picked up. sometimes you even drove minho home. however, hyunjin’s hand on your knee as he slid in after you, gave you a warm sensation throughout your chest.

you sighed contentedly, letting hyunjin get everything out of the bag. you began slipping your white jumper off, seeing as if any of the stew got on it, you’d regret blowing fifty dollars on it. you soon realized that the jumper was exactly why hyunjin offered to manage your finances. “spoon, napkin,” he was handing you things and you quietly took them, waiting as he began to lower the cup holder to place the stew between you.

“hyunjin, do you remember our first date?” you looked at the sun, hanging low in the sky as the nighttime approached. you had been sitting in this very backseat, your hands tangled in his hair as he showed you a song he loved at the time — and continued to, to this day it blasted through your speakers at home. it’d sort of become your song — but you shared many things with him that night. “you mean how you kissed me after you had texted me earlier that day that there would be no kissing? not saying i didn’t enjoy it,” he snorts as you whack his arm lightly.

“yah, it was a moment of weakness. the timing was perfect, you were perfect.” you lean against the door, leg propped up on the seat as your fingertips tracing the spoon in your hand. you feel a bit of emotion hit your eyes, but hyunjin softly pats your leg. “hwang hyunjin, how did i manage to find a man like you?”

“you didn’t, there’s nothing all that special about me,” you’ve both seemed to forget about the early supper as hyunjin lifts the cup holder up, and scoots closer to you, resting your legs atop his thighs. drumming his fingers along your shins, he smiled at the fond memory of the date. “if anything, i think it was a moment of rose-colored glasses. all i did was slide you a book from the top shelf.” it was true, you’d met hyunjin at the campus library. granted, it was your first time in there, and hyunjin had been a bit of an overachiever his first year — so he was in the right place at the right time as you groaned about the library stacking ten shelves high.

“i still can’t believe we had sex in that bathroom,” you shudder playfully, letting out a laugh as hyunjin gasped. “you suggested it! i just granted your wish!” laughing harder, you notice hyunjin admiring you softly. “yah, you’re making me shy.” 

“you’re beautiful,” his thumb caresses your cheek, and you glance at his lips before he slowly closes in. the softness of them, something you often envied, had always been enough to make you feel hot. the technique, his hand placement as he kissed you sweetly, always made you feel giddy. hyunjin was like a really good amusement park — you wanted to go on all the rides. without breaking the kiss, you adjusted yourself to sit on his lap, relishing the way his hands snaked to your belt loops to pull you closer. his tongue expertly slides into your mouth, a small gasp escaping your lips as his thumbs rub circles over your covered breasts, the flimsy tank top hiding your sensitive nipples but heightening the sensation.

subconsciously pushing your chest into him, your own hands struggle to find home as you slide them beneath his own shirt, feeling his softly chiseled muscles under your fingertips. the soft whine that emits from his lips as you brush his nipple accidentally, a gentle reminder of the small metal bar that he pierced in on a drunken night. if there was anything you and hyunjin shared, it was sensitivity.

his hands immediately pulled down the straps of your shirt, the material sliding off your breasts as he broke the kiss — lips dragging all over your chest, nipping and biting in all places. “wait, wait. take this off,” you pulled on his own shirt, and he obliged almost furiously, tugging his cardigan and shirt off in one go — pierced nipples and belly button on display. god, he was fucking gorgeous.

“mm, i like these.” your voice was low as you gently stroked them, adoring the soft rutting of hyunjin’s hips against your own. “be nice to me tonight, baby. i’m sore from practice.” he tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear, and you look at his swollen lips. a shy blush coats his cheeks as he looks away, your hand grabbing for his jaw to make him look at you, your eyes boring into his own. “fuck, you’re beautiful. you’ve always been so beautiful.” he whines, his hand at the nape of your neck and pulling you in for another kiss, rougher this time. his free hand circles around your waist, holding you in place as your lips connect again, but briefly because you begin to kiss down his jaw, stopping to nibble at his earlobe. adding to the sensation, you grind your hips down, and you take a small nip near his jugular, a whine of your name leaving his mouth.

“you sound so pretty, so, so pretty baby. do it again.” you suck on the skin softly, and with your hands pressed against his chest, he allows another murmured whine to ring in your ears, his skin hot to the touch. “fuck, y/n.” 

you find yourself tracing his stomach and waist, trailing kisses down his chest — and a welcomed sensation to him when you teasingly flicked your tongue on his hardened nipple. his hips bucked up and you chuckled, his fingers carding through his hair as you swirl your tongue around his nipple, heart beating against his chest insanely fast. “your heart is beating so fast.” whispering, you place a chaste kiss right above it, before trailing down slowly, maneuvering your back and legs to kneel before him, carefully so you’d fit nicely. hyunjin looked at you as you did so, following your every move with glassy eyes.

“take off your pants.” slightly hoarse, but he slipped his hands under the band of his sweats, shoving them down as you’d instructed. you watched like a hawk, the way his thigh muscles flexed deliciously as he shoved them down carefully. springing free, his cock was beautiful — not too thick, maybe two inches above average, leaking precum any time he let you get your hands on him. glancing up at him, you notice the soft love bites blooming across his chest and neck, smiling to yourself as you hover above his cock. running your forefinger along the underside, you relished in the power as hyunjin shivered under your touch. leaning down slightly, you give his tip a kitten lick, gathering a bit of his precum on your tongue — and you rest your hands on his thighs to hoist yourself up towards his lips.

taking your tongue in first, hyunjin kisses you slowly, allowing the taste of himself to marinate in your mouths. you gently drag your nails on his inner thighs, noticing the goosebumps trail along your boyfriend’s skin before you grab his shaft snugly. a surprised gasp disconnects your lips, and you take the opportunity to spit directly on his swollen tip, taking it into your mouth shallowly as you softly spread your saliva with his precum. all is calm as you begin sucking towards the underside of his tip, your tongue running along the thick vein of his length.

practically drooling a river, you push yourself to sink down a bit more, allowing his tip to barely brush the back of your throat — his dull nails are digging into your shoulder as you swallow around him, the pace of your movements excruciatingly slow as you pull off with a pop. a string of spit connected you to him as you pulled away, your lips swollen lightly as you took hold of his thigh, pumping his erection in one hand, kissing his lips chastely as you whispered sweet nothings. “i want you, so bad, baby.” he whines against your lips, and you almost feel bad as you sadistically smirk. “you always do, don’t you?”

you can feel his thigh quivering as he tries to hold back, but the overwhelming feeling of your lips dragging over his upper body and the tight, rhythmic stroking of his cock in your hand was all too much. you can tell because he’s beginning to look away, his eyes fluttering as you continue to murmur filthy words in his ear, his hips swiveling in light circles into your hand. “does the little slut want to cum?” and without warning, hyunjin was orgasming, his cum shooting out in warm spurts all over your chest. his eyes screwed shut as he trembled under your touch, and you simply smiled as he exhaled a breath you were sure he wasn’t aware he was holding in.

“found a new word for you, baby. you did so well for me, my love.” you laugh softly as you begin to wipe your breasts off with your finger, not noticing the way hyunjin’s tired eyes still held a bit of lust in them. taking hold of your hips, hyunjin pulled you up into his lap once more, leveling your chest with his mouth. he slowly dragged his lips over every open part, collecting his cum as he swirled his tongue over your breasts, nipping softly. appalled, you watched him through hooded eyes, an absentminded hand tangled in his hair leading him to your nipples every now and again. “kiss me, baby.”

his hand quickly finds home on your jaw, guiding the slippery kiss full of passion..when you hear a knock on the window. the sudden sound causes you to hit your head on the roof of the car, in turn making you bite down on hyunjin’s lower lip. not that he cared, it was hot.

“what the fuck!” hyunjin throws his shirt over you before tucking himself back into his sweatpants, and you panic-wipe your face and his, realizing just how foggy the windows had gotten. he takes a shaky breath before rolling down the window, only to see minho standing there with his arms crossed. “y/n-ah, you said thirty minutes.” he’s not happy, but hey, it could’ve been worse. you sigh in relief, dropping hyunjin’s shirt, not caring that minho has now seen your boobs as you tug your straps back up. hyunjin’s stomach felt like it fell out of his ass, but minho grimaces as he watches his younger friend wipe his face once more. “in the parking lot? really?”

“listen, sometimes you gotta make do.” you smile, kissing your boyfriend’s cheek apologetically. “i’ll see you at home, baby. promise.” kissing his lips gently one more time, you wave to him as he tries to catch his breath. slipping away with minho, you try to hide the sweat on your face from riling yourself up in a hot ass car just to get your boyfriend off.

“i expected more from you, y/n. you were gone for forty minutes,” minho scoffs as he wipes a tissue across your chest, and you feel your face heat something awful when you realize you still had some of hyunjin’s residue on you. how embarrassing. nonetheless, you scowl at your friend. “that’s barely ten minutes over!” you want to be mad at minho, but your mind can only drift to hyunjin as your empty stomach growls for the last twenty minutes of your shift.

“yah, hyunjin-ah. i’m home!” you call out as you slide your backpack off, noticing his favorite boots abandoned by the door.  minho had walked you home, so you figured there was no use in calling him anyway. rolling your eyes, you pick them up to place on the somewhat empty rack (it was usually full of shoes stacked upon each other), and it is only then you hear the lo-fi beats coming from your bedroom that you realize he may have fallen asleep. smiling to yourself, you tiptoe into the kitchen, finding the soft tofu stew in the microwave and you grant yourself permission to heat it up while you get ready for bed. popping the lid off, you slide it back in and quietly walk towards your bedroom, seeing your boyfriend bundled in the duvet like a burrito. his eyes were shut, lips parted softly and he was beautiful.

leaning against the doorframe, you admire him quietly, his light breathing drowned out by the music coming from your television. you take in the purple-tinted atmosphere, ignoring the backpack and duffle bag hidden in the corner of the room.

“stop staring at me,” you hear him mumble, and you let out a laugh. “i thought hwang hyunjin was sleeping, sorry hwang hyunjin.” you chuckle, moving to turn on the desk lamp to remove your makeup. he grunts in response, before sitting up and leaning back onto the bed frame. “yah, y/n. i need my beauty rest.”

“yeah? do you? you also need to study, you’ve got a fat ass final coming up in that anthropology class.” you tap your shared calendar, and sure enough, he had a test in two weeks. “honey, i deserve a break.” he groans, and you simply shake your head as you wipe off your lipstick, that had somehow managed to stay intact during your...earlier endeavors.

“yeah, baby. you do.” you smile at him through the mirror, noticing the way he seemed a bit...drained. “ah, i don’t like it when you look like that, hyunnie. what’s nagging you?” you say, slipping off your jumper and tank top, rustling in his drawer for a shirt, which felt surprisingly less full. his silence makes you rush, grabbing a random shirt you were sure belonged to changbin at some point but you shoved your head in anyway.

“i just...i’m feeling a bit cold.” he says quietly, and you freeze. “cold...cold meaning sick, cold meaning temperature, cold meaning—”

“you feel far away, y/n. i feel cold.” he reluctantly turns to face you, his hands in his lap. frowning, you tug off your jeans, grabbing a pair of his shorts to slide on. “baby, i—”

“no, y/n. don’t ‘baby’ me, you always do this. anytime i want to be closer to you and i want to show you off the world, you hide from me. every time i want to go do cliché couple things, like matching sweaters or something, you brush me off. am i a joke, y/n? is this funny to you? do you get off on being cruel to someone who loves you more than anything?”

the outburst is unexpected. you feel your chest heat with embarrassment, and you back away from the bedside where you had been standing. you feel your eyes well up with tears but you know there is no excuse for the way you’d been acting, and that he wasn’t wrong — and you couldn’t brush it off this time. looking down, you fiddle with your rings as you let his words sink in.

“i’m sorry, hyunjin. i wasn’t aware you felt this way,” you feel a lump in your throat and you wonder why — maybe after so long of hoping he would mess up in order to break up, you realized you didn’t want that. you look at him through blurred vision, the purple love bites you left now fully bloomed and an eyesore. “i know you weren’t, y/n. you never ask me how i’m feeling any more, much less have you ever. i understand we get caught up in our lives and i know that all this ‘other half’ stuff is bullshit, but you would make time for me, y/n. you were melting, and now you’re just back in the freezer.” he sighed, throwing the comforter off his legs and standing before you. wiping tears off your cheeks, hyunjin pulls you into a tight hug.

“i just want to know what i’m doing wrong.” and you break. “you’re not doing anything wrong, hyunjin. it’s me, it’s always been me. i’m just this broken piece of ice that’s been floating over the ocean for decades, hoping someday the sun will melt me down and i’ll become one with the water. i’m tired of not being able to give you the benefit of the doubt and realize that you won’t hurt me like everyone else has. it’s been three damn years, hyunjin. what am i doing wrong?”

“maybe you’re not ready for a relationship, y/n.” his voice is calm as he strokes your back, and you feel your heart start racing at the thought of losing him. regardless of what you’d thought before, the panic of being alone has now set in and you can’t imagine your life without him — and that in itself is a toxic mentality. you were not incomplete before you met hyunjin, and you would be fine if and when he ever decided to step out of your life.

“no, no. i am, i am ready. that’s why i’m here, i swear i’ll fix it—” your panicked hands stroked hyunjin’s face shakily, and you noticed tears in his eyes as he grabbed your wrists, cupping your hands in his own as he stood. “y/n, you’re not ready. for the past three years, i’ve felt alone in this apartment, no matter how many times you walked through that door. i felt you try to warm up, i felt your effort but slowly, you just kept pushing me back. ice is meant to melt at some point, my love. maybe you are something far more solid.”

and that is when you notice that he is fully dressed. his jewelry is still in, and he’s in a different jumper and sweatpants. his feet are covered with the cactus socks you snagged at target for him, and you suddenly feel your stomach do a backflip. suddenly, the less-crowded shoe rack, the organized drawer, the bags in the corner...they make sense.

“are you...are you leaving me?” your trepidation is clawing at your throat, and you can feel your nails digging into your palms. “no, y/n. you’re leaving me.” hyunjin wipes a tear from his face, holding one of your poetry books in his hand. he must have hid it under the blankets, and he hands it to you, opening it to a bookmarked page. you now see your world crumbling before you. furrowing your brows, you close it, your hand going limp as you stare at his socks.

“you read my work.” you let the book slip onto the floor, landing on the carpet with a soft thud. “it’s the only way i’ve even made it this far, y/n.” you feel betrayal rip through you, and you hate that the only thing you ever asked him not to do had been done. you didn’t care about hiding anything besides this flimsy book of poems that you hid beneath your bed every single time you wrote something new.

“get out.” you mumble, and hyunjin opens his mouth, only to press it in a tight line. he grabs his bags quickly, and you’ve seen now that he even cleared his own cosmetics off your vanity. you would miss dolling him up for his showcases. “i’ll see you at my showcase. i hope you’re still coming.” he said quietly, before padding silently into the living room, and eventually, you heard the jingle of his keys and the slam of the front door. hearing the lock turn, you felt the tears roll down your face uncontrollably.

and slowly, but surely, you’ve fallen asleep with your face buried in hyunjin’s pillow, the soft tofu stew long forgotten.

things had always been so neutral with hyunjin. he didn’t like fighting but he was petty as hell, so that canceled out. he didn’t like cooking but he was great at it, which also canceled out. he didn’t particularly care for shower sex, but when you did indulge, it almost made you angry how well it went down.

sex with hyunjin was quite the opposite of neutral — it was filthy, wet, slippery even. it was hot and heated and you loved every moment of whatever was happening — whether he had been pounding you into your mattress, or his face was buried between your thighs, everything was euphoric. and what made you furious was that whilst you had let yourself wallow in your sudden heartbreak, you didn’t realize that you craved the skinship you shoved away.

you missed waking up to his hand literally dangling in your face, his leg thrown over your hip, or his cold ass feet tucked onto the back of your thighs. you missed holding someone’s hand as you walked around campus, being kissed goodbye as he dropped you off for class while he was headed to practice. you hated seeing hyunjin across campus and not being able to call out his name and hand him the milk tea that you’d mistakenly bought for him ten minutes ago, having completely forgotten that you were broken up.

so you felt like an idiot holding two medium wintermelon milk teas as your ex-boyfriend walked closer with his entourage. you looked at minho, and as if sensing your eyes, he glanced up. meeting your gaze, minho’s jaw dropped as you trashed the drink, tossing it in the nearest garbage can — an action not missed by felix and hyunjin. “hey, y/n.” minho tried, and you glared at him as you walked past, nearly slamming into changbin and jeongin as you did so.

you ignored the ache in your throat, your eyes scanning the campus for chan. you had set to meet with him to study for your statistics final, and had been running late by getting boba. only then you realize you could have given him the extra drink, but you shook it off as you see his built form appear a few feet in front of you, his thick legs cozied in warm sweatpants that read 3RACHA down his thigh. “channie! wait up!”

he halts, looking up from his phone to look around. “ah, y/n!! how are you?” turning, he gives u a soft fist bump as you both begin the walk to the library. your hand took his elbow, and he was puzzled as you rushed him down the path. “are you okay? you seem off. did something happen with hyunjin?”

you were inside the library now, and you feel your stomach churn at the sound of his name, simply swiping your student card to get into the study room. you set down your backpack, toying with the zipper before you begin trying to form the words necessary. you tried to hold it in, but you couldn’t help and let a few tears slip out of your eyes as your lips quivered. “we broke up.”

followed by silence, chan seemed to understand as he stood, enveloping your limp form in a hug as you broke down for the third time that week. trying to hide your emotions from your friends was always easy, but you’d never felt defeat like this. you’d never allowed someone to see your heart and learn its ways, so knowing now that you had seen hyunjin’s and ignored it simply showed that you had taken him for granted.

“haven’t you got any faith in yourself, y/n?” he mumbles as he wipes your cheeks with his sleeve, taking hold of both your hands. “being single is the least of your worries, girl. let’s just cool off a bit and focus on this dumbass final that we’ve got to ace tomorrow.” chan began writing up practice equations that your professor had assigned earlier that week, and though you wiped your tears and whipped out your calculator — you regretted renting the study room across the very library you met hyunjin in.

the boys had wound up dragging you out of the apartment on the night of hyunjin’s showcase, making the coping process much harder and the carpool was just a bit more suffocating as you turned into an unfamiliar neighborhood to pick up the soloist for the night, hwang hyunjin. you looked at the houses on the street as chan cruised forward, only to stop in front of an old townhouse with a nice vegetable garden. you quietly looked out the window to see your ex-boyfriend kissing and older woman’s cheek goodbye.

“hey, scoot.” he opened the door and you reluctantly scooted over, realizing now why the boys asked if you wanted the passenger seat. hyunjin’s freshly dyed black hair would definitely be a show-stopper, and paired with the dance he’d prepared, you knew he’d steal some hearts. “nice hair.” you mutter, and you feel hyunjin sigh softly, pulling out his phone.

a minute later, you feel your phone vibrate in your clutch. a small lump in your throat forms as you see you’ve forgotten to change his contact name.

[4:54PM] baby ♥︎🩰: would you be willing to do my makeup for the showcase..?

glancing up, you grimace as you see hyunjin staring out the window with flaming red cheeks. scowling, you type back a short ‘yes’ and stare at the bouquet in your lap for the rest of the drive.

backstage was crawling with dancers and makeup artists, but hyunjin had managed to convince the stage manager to get him and the boys off in a green room in the concert hall. seeing as the stage manager apparently owed hyunjin for some favor years ago, he’d snuck hyunjin the key as you strolled quietly backstage with the boys. minho and felix just needed to get dressed, they would be waiting in the audience for their turn on stage for the group performances. you feel set up, somehow.

you waited quietly on the sofa, scrolling mindlessly through twitter as you let the boys rustle around getting into their outfits. seeing as hyunjin had a solo and a group dance, his bag was twice as heavy. “okay, i’m heading out. we’ll be up third.” minho was buttoning his shirt as he started walking out, felix trailing behind him as he smoothed on some chapstick. the room felt thick with tension, yet you pushed past it to set up hyunjin’s makeup on the vanity table, your fingers dusted with eye glitter.

“these are for you,” you set the bouquet down on the vanity as you allow him to finish getting dressed. a bouquet of mixed flowers, bold and colorful — daisies, cornflowers, honeysuckles, red tulips and carnations. an eyesore that you adored. you knew you wouldn’t be around after the performance, so you simply slipped your note into the bouquet when he silently clipped in his jewelry.

best of luck, my love. forever yours, y/n <3

“why are you being so quiet?” hyunjin asked as he came up behind you, buttoning his shirt quickly. “yah, i’m not being quiet. i feel awkward, i want to get this done and over with, hyunjin.” you say, moving out of the way so he can sit down, and you sweep his hair off his face, ignoring the temptation to kiss his forehead like you usually would. you know, for someone who had had a hard time melting to form into what hyunjin ‘needed’, you sure had no trouble being what hyunjin craved. he hadn't realized that until his first actual night without you.

he was freezing.

“be gentle with me.” he said as you patted moisturizer under his eyes, listening out for the start of the first performance. “i always am.” you whisper, not allowing the tears building up to escape as you blink them back. hyunjin’s gaze on your face was intensely intimidating as you carefully blended a muted terracotta shade on his eyelid, and you think you imagine the pout on his lips until you go back in with a brown pencil liner. “yah, hwang hyunjin! why are you pouting?”

he looks down at his hands, toying with the loose strands on the holes of his jeans. you frown, dusting on an easy amount of blush before grabbing his lip tint. your hand grasps his jaw, his eyes widening as you do so.

“you’ve gotten so mean,” he mutters as he puckers his lips, and you feel a smile sneak onto your face as you dab the tint on lightly. “you’ve always liked it.” you almost kiss him, out of routine, but the cold air in the room reminds you of what can no longer be. a sad feeling washes over you as you spray his face lightly with a setting spray, and wave your hands around him to dry it.

“you’re going to do great out there, hyunjin. i know it.” holding his arms, you rub them gently one last time before hearing the second song start for the next group, starting your brisk walk out of the room. “wait.” stopping in place, you don’t turn as you hear his feet patter behind you, and you feel his presence on your back as his hand takes hold of your wrist. slowly, he turns you around and your eyes are closed, not wanting to know what the next two minutes may hold. you don’t realize you’re backing up against the door until you’ve hit it, and your eyes open to see his face ghosting over yours. his breathing is shaky, and you can’t help but feel tears fill your eyes as you brush your lips against his.

kissing you back softly, his hand finds home on your waist — and you feel a tear roll down as you wrap your arms around his neck. your lips are burning his skin but he relishes in the warmth he’d been missing for the past two weeks. your skin is hot to the touch and he realizes…

maybe it was him that needed melting.

“good luck, hyunjin. you’re gonna be fine.” you sniff as you push him away, exiting the green room as quickly as you could, hearing the second song coming to an end. you’re sprinting towards the auditorium at this point, nearly crashing into minho as he and felix are rushing towards backstage to set up in the thirty seconds they have. “first row, fourth seat!” felix yells as you open the auditorium door, and you nearly bust a lung trying to catch your breath while sliding into the seat next to jisung.

“hey, sungie.” you take a deep breath and han jisung simply shakes his head — his hand taking hold of yours as the curtain rises with the boys in position. of course, hyunjin is front and center as the spotlight catches him directly, his hands crossed across his face in a gesture you’d memorized from his practices. the music begins, and once more you’re drawn in by the fluid movements of his body, the body control he carried on himself was something many dancers would die for. suddenly, it’s like there’s no one else in the room but you and him. you’re locked on his swiveling hips, the flow of his arms as he melted into the music.

and you fall in love all over again.

“our last soloist for the night has been well anticipated in many ways. the star of the show, the one and only man of the hour — let’s hear it for our very own hwang hyunjin!” the announcer is far too excited in your opinion, and you roll your eyes as the entire auditorium goes up in screams, joining them in their clapping. the crowd dies down as the curtain rises, and you hold your breath as hyunjin steps into view, a piece of white ribbon in between his teeth as he looks into a gold-framed mirror. he ties his hair back carefully as he stares into the mirror, and as the beat drops in, your jaw locks. his hand wraps around his neck lightly, before looking back with a finger in his mouth.

he rips off the veil-like cape and before you know it, he’s on the ground and you understand now why the entire crowd is entranced as his knees alternate, the way his hand covers his joker-like grin and the way he’s sliding around the floor is simply delicious. fan service, you think reluctantly as you hear a group of individuals screaming in a lust-filled pitch.

the silver details make him glimmer as he releases all his emotions on the stage, and you feel your thighs clench as you catch a glimpse of the belly piercing you adored. your nails are digging into your palm as you realize how high the shirt has come undone, and it is only now that you recognize the song playing in your ears as hyunjin’s performance comes to an end with his hand around his neck once more, the lights dimming as the last line rings in your mind.

i’ve always liked to play with fire.

you feel your heart stop in your chest as hyunjin throws the rose he’d held in his mouth in your general direction, and the crowd screams once more as he leaves the stage, pulling the ribbon out of his hair as he exited. you ignore all the screams as you feel the urge to get up and leave the premises like you have every single time hyunjin had a showcase. you want to push your way out the doors and run home to a pillow that doesn’t smell like him anymore but you pretend it does in hopes of some sort of manifestation that he’d show up in your dreams again.

you can’t help but slip your heels off and bolt for the exit as the dancers come back on stage for their final bow. you see hyunjin in your peripheral view and like always, you ignore it. you ignore the beet red blush on his face as people throw flowers at him and scream his name, and you ignore the way he pushes through the crowd to find you in the parking lot. you ignore the cold on your back as you manage to hail a taxi and slip in, giving the driver your address in a hurried sob as you see hyunjin exit the building behind you. you ask her to step on it as you feel the lump in your throat grow, and she gives you a pitiful look as she steps on the gas. you feel bad. you always do when you run away from what is best for you.

“trouble in paradise, honey?” she asks quietly, and you nod as your phone vibrates repeatedly, surely spam calls from the boys. “he loves me far more than i could have imagined. it is sad that i am simply not enough for him in my own eyes.”

“oh my, dear. you will always be enough. look at you, you’re young! you’re full of life even when you look like you’re having a rough time, you look like what i wish i looked like twenty years ago! you’re the it girl, baby. cherish it.” she sighs as she stops in front of your apartment, and you dig through your clutch for some cash. “don’t worry. this one’s on me, but i think you could make it work.” she looks into your eyes and you feel your soul ache as you nod.

“i will, auntie. thank you.” you exit her cab, scurrying up the stairs to your apartment quietly. you feel winded as you unlock your door, and you throw your heels onto the empty rack. you wander mindlessly about your apartment, standing in front of what once held photos upon photos of you, hyunjin and all your friends. memories that were once stuck to the wall were now stacked up on the dining room table, and you sighed as your fingers touched the thumbtack holes.

“in this maze of memories, where did i lose you?” you whisper to yourself, sighing as you trail towards your bedroom, plopping face first onto your bed, ignoring the sudden whiff of hyunjin’s scent coming off your pillow. “how cruel it is to live in a world where you’re not even in my photo albums anymore.”

hyunjin had started to distance himself more, and last you’d heard, he was offered to study a year abroad in france with minho and felix. good for him, i wish him well, you’d told jisung when he shared the good news. minho and jisung managed to work it out, with jisung having been offered a year abroad as well for music production with the dance team, they realized it was time to figure out who they were to each other. you find out the person hyunjin kissed a few months back before the showcase was his grandmother — she’d recently moved into that old townhouse.

you couldn’t really swallow down the pill that hyunjin wasn’t yours anymore, but the universe didn’t give you much of a choice as it kept turning. you’d lost your passion for poetry, and the dream to be a huge name in journalism in the months after. you’d given your poems to be displayed in the creative writing hall at your university, and you realized that nothing you wrote was ever about anything besides hyunjin. everything was connected back to him, and it seemed the world knew that as you dropped your major entirely, and when your advisor questioned what you would be changing it to, you simply shrugged and told her you didn’t know. i want to see the world, you said. university is tying me down.

seeing as you had officially finished the year, you had no loose strands to burn besides packing up and moving out of your student apartment. you’d sent hyunjin his things via seungmin and jeongin, who were kind enough to help you move out and get a moving van back to seoul. you were going to spend the summer with them, seeing as they simply planned to go all around seoul auditioning for companies. 

you were taping the last box when you heard a soft knock at the door.

looking up, you see hyunjin. back to his blonde hair, glowing in all his glory. you give him a tight lipped smile, and stand up to greet him quietly. “hello. i heard you got offered a year in france. congratulations.” you mumble as you stand in front of him, and he nods silently. the tension is thick as he shifts from side to side, before clearing his throat.

“i saw your poems in the hall.” he whispered, and you scoff, scratching your neck shyly. “yeah, i decided to say goodbye. sort of lost touch with that dream.” he doesn’t say anything, but you look to see his eyes screwed shut as he leans against your doorframe. “i didn’t know you wrote so much about me, y/n.”

“everything i’ve ever written has been about you, hyunjin. you were my lucky star, the moon i talked to every night. you held all my creativity, because you were my only inspiration.” you shrug, and hyunjin simply stretches his arms out. “come, let me hold you.”

and for a moment, this is okay. you’re okay, feeling the warmth of his body against your own and hearing his soft heartbeat. you’re okay, realizing that you will never stop loving hwang hyunjin, no matter how far he is. you’re okay, knowing that he also loves you, and you’re okay with the soft kiss he plants on your scalp.

“i turned it down. i got into a company,” he murmurs, and you gasp. “and even though i’d be under a dating ban, i figured i’d let you know that i miss you and that i’d override that for you, if you’ll have me. i miss waking up with you and i miss walking to class together. i miss you, and i love you. i hope that we can be together someday, again. whether it’s tomorrow or in ten years, just know my heart belongs to you.”

you can’t begin to explain why he should run. so you won’t. you won’t crush him with your fears, or your doubts of what’s to come — because in the end, the love you fear you don’t deserve has already begun. you smile into his chest, breathing in the soft scent of his perfume. “i love you.”

temptaetions © 2022. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[darethshirl]

It was only after Astarion had finished the kill—after the gut-deep slash, the satisfying spurt of blood—that he realized he was being watched.

He looked over his shoulder. Cassiopeia stood in the midst of all the post-battle carnage, bright-eyed and slightly out-of-breath, a single streak of soot marring her forehead. The remnants of her magic still surrounded her, the tingling scents of ash and ozone tainting the air. The corpses of her enemies were spread out in a semi-circle around her, but she paid them no mind. Her attention was focused entirely on Astarion, her gaze sharp, appraising, and approving.

“You weren’t lying,” she said, a pleased curl to her lips as she approached him. “You really are stronger when you feed.”

Astarion let a smirk grace his face, making a bow that was so theatrical it wrapped back around to mocking. “Nature’s perfect killing machine, at your service.” He looked up from under his eyelashes, teeth sharp on his lips. “Aren’t you glad you kept me around, now?”

Cassiopeia’s smile twitched wider, though whether that was from amusement or some other hidden thought Astarion couldn’t tell. “We should make it a regular occurrence,” she said, ignoring his question. “You feeding on me, I mean.”

Astarion paused. He flicked a careful glance at her, shaking the blood off his dagger with a practiced motion. “Is that what you want?” he asked, then made his expression sweeten into something flirtatious. “All that delicious blood running through your veins—surely we shouldn’t squander it, hmm? It wouldn’t do to tire you out too much, darling.”

“I have blood enough,” Cassiopeia said, with all the supreme unconcern of the truly confident, “and I have power enough. The point is, why shouldn’t you be the strongest version of yourself? This is an advantage. We’d be fools to ignore it.“ She tilted her head then, her brow slightly furrowed, and for the first time since this conversation had started she looked less than perfectly certain. “I thought you’d want this.”

Astarion laughed darkly, hunger and resentment swirling in his belly. “Oh, I do.”

“Well, then.” Cassiopeia gave him a nod, graceful in her decisiveness. It seemed that, in her eyes, the conclusion was foregone. “Tonight.”

Later that day Astarion repaid her by observing her just as closely, keeping to the shadows of his tent as he hunted for her weak points. She and Gale lounged in the middle of the camp like highborn aristocrats, as if the wilderness around them was not mere trees and grass but Baldur’s Gate’s most fashionable parlor. Gale was leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs, his grand gestures animated by the strength of his own convictions. Cassiopeia sprawled back on her seat of stone and moss, loose and indolent like the elven nobility she in truth was. She stayed mostly quiet during Gale’s onslaught of words, with her chin resting carelessly on her palm and an air of indulgence to her silence, until—there: Astarion caught the moment where her smile turned from polite to haughty, the way her gaze flickered, just once, with benign contempt. 

Her breathtaking arrogance, her effortless superiority—it all tickled a memory buried deep inside Astarion’s mind, farther back than Cazador’s first cruelties. Far back in his misty, half-forgotten youth, Astarion had rubbed elbows with the same-such nobles, and he’d been drawn exactly to that type: men and women who wielded power like a deadly scalpel, their every smile a disdainful caress that sliced through skin. Astarion had thrilled at the challenge of catching their attention, posturing and flittering and pushing past boundaries like a suicidal moth diving straight into the flame. He hadn’t managed to conquer any of those untouchable beings—he hadn’t had the time—but the remembered warmth of his occasional victories still glowed within him. His flirtations had drawn blood in their own right. Once upon a time, he’d held influence too.

He’d been lost in reverie for too long; Cassiopeia caught his gaze from across the camp and kept it, staring back with no outward sign of discomfort, focused and nonchalant at the same time. Her expression was inscrutable, too polished for cracks or flaws.

Astarion scowled, and pushed all thoughts away.

(Keep reading on ao3)

[canolaaoil]

I remember childhood in yellow and blue

1. Who Can Sleep? Sally Davies // 2. @dakotajohnsongf // 3.Let Magic Surround You, Carmine Belluci // 4. @electraheart2012​ // 5. Kitchen, Larry Bracegirdle // 6. Hum Hallelujah, Fall Out Boy // 7. INTERIOR AT NIGHT, Ryan Kapp // 8. Letter for home, Felix Lee // 9. Monet’s House in Giverny // 10. @girlfromenglishclass​ // 11. @kernjosh​ // 12. On Turning Ten, Billy Collins

Description Follows

Post Description: 

1. [ ID: A photograph of a city at night. There is a skyline in the upper quarter in dark, navy blue, while the lower 3/4 of the image portrays an apartment building. Several windows in the building are lit with golden light in a random assortment around the building. In a few of the windows, sillouettes of people can be seen in black. End ID]

2. [ ID: an exerpt of a tumblr post, reading; let me tell you — sometimes i think this might be all a bad dream. every now and then, when the world is quiet enough, when the yellow light hits the ceiling just right, i feel like a child again. sometimes i wish i could find the spot where time is the weakest, touch it, tear it apart, and wake up on the sofa, behind my parents’ backs where i’ve crawled after some nightmare. from the tv, a laugh track. i’m pretending to sleep. its summer. see, the balcony door is ajar. see, there’s a mosquito trying to get in. see, my heart isn’t aching. see? End ID]

3. [ID: a painting in a stylized fashion of a cat sitting on a table from inside a house looking out a window at snowfall. there are papers on the table, a wooden chair, red and purple curtains around the window, a yellow patterned table cloth, and cups of coffee sitting nearby the cat. The cat is black. The walls of the room are golden yellow. End ID]

4. [ID: a tumblr post by user electraheart2012, reading; being alive is like: you want to go home. you don’t know where home is. you want to go home. you don’t know where home is. you want to go home. you don’t know where home is. you want to go home. you haven’t known for a long time. you want to go home but you don’t know where you’d go. you want to go home  you want to go home  you want to go home. End ID]

5. [ID: A painting in a semi-realistic, oil style, of a corner of a home. The colors are mostly warm yellows, oranges, and browns. From left to right there is a calendar, a doorway, a console table, and a couch. There are mirrors, and shelves with books lining the walls. On the table there is a lamp, which casts most of the light in the painting. The walls have wood paneling on the lower half and paint on the upper half, likely white or off white, but appearing soft yellow due to the lighting. End ID]

6. [ID: a screenshot of a lyric page, reading; And one day we’ll get nostalgic for disaster. End ID]

7. [ID: an oil painting,  portraying a rectangular set of windows, looking inside a home at night. curtains cover the left and right panels of the windows, and the center one portrays a wall in the distance with several pictures on a fireplace mantle. The painting is in mostly golden yellow and orange, with the window frame in dark navy blue. End ID]

8. [ID: a handwritten note on a blue, lined sticky note, written in blue pen. The handwriting is cursive. The note reads; Dear Mum, / Once you’ve cleaned this room and house, I won’t forget the sweet, strange and unforgetful memories. This box will contain most of my belongings and I hope for you to take care of it. End ID]

9.[ID: A photograph of a room in a house through a doorway. The visable room is a dining room, with a table with six visable white wicker chairs surrounding it, a white fireplace/mantle with blue vases and pottery decorating the top, and several paintings lining the wall.  The walls are painted bright yellow, and the triming of the doorways are painted light blue and white. The lighting in the dining room makes the entire room look golden, while the room the photographer is in is in regular daylight. End ID]

10. [ID: a tumblr post by user girlfromenglishclass, reading; Childhood made everything feel like it lingered. The time it took for hot chocolate to cool down was eternal. Christmas day took weeks. The two-hour drive to my grandparents’ house took us to a new world. It’s all too fast now. End ID]

11. [ID: a photograph of two people on a bed. Both lay on their backs. One is wrapped in a puffy duvet cover, laughing with their whole face, looking in the direction of the photographer. The other looks up at the photographer, with their shirt pulled up, with most of their chest exposed, just wearing a pair of checkered boxers. The colors of the environment are light blue; the duvet and the sheets of the bed. The walls are white-ish blue.  The people are warm colors; pink and brown. End ID]

12. [ID: an poem exerpt, reading; But now I am mostly at the window / watching the late afternoon light. Back then it never fell so solemnly / against the side of my tree house, / and my bicycle never leaned against the garage / as it does today, / all the dark blue speed drained out of it. End ID]

paragraph break

[ID: two lines of writing, underlined in yellow, reading “one day i was seven years old, / after that all i ever was was lonely.” end ID]

end post description.

[asterekmess]

A Bit of a Conundrum

I've been waffling about this for a long time, and as I've already vented about it to my discord, I wanted to open it up to a possibly larger audience of my readers. And also complain about it more. XD I write. A lot. I have. A LOT of writing. We're talking like more than 2 dozen wips sitting in my google docs, some with 14k, some with 114k words in them. Some with a specific ending in mind, some with no plot beyond what's already written. Fuck dude, some aren't even Sterek/TW! I was fortunate enough to have someone go on my ko-fi and do a monthly donation to me for a few months. They stopped, which I'll never be mad at, but having them there at all, having someone say "I'd like to support your writing just for the sake of supporting it" meant a huge amount to me, and it made me think about all of my wips.

I don't post often, or regularly, or..well at all, for months and months at a time. This is because I almost only ever post fics when they're done. it's a personal rule of mine, and not one I used to follow when i first started writing fic. It's one I came up with shortly after finishing "Wanted" bc I felt terrible and pressured when I had to take breaks during that fic and when I couldn't keep up with a regular schedule for people. And for a long time it was a good rule for me. It helped me not to feel pressured or overwhelmed by the worry of abandoning a project on ao3 and getting bombarded with comments asking where the next chapter is. But as I've continued writing over the years, my wips have gotten more numerous, while my posted work continues to trickle in. I'm a chronic long-fic writer (though my currently posted fics don't reflect that), which means it takes way more time for me to finish a fic than it does for me to get distracted coming up with a NEW idea for a fic. It's hard to finish work. But that doesn't mean I don't love my wips. They're incredible. Some of them contain some of the best stuff I feel I've ever written. Poignant words and phrases and meaningful moments. And looking around at them, I realized that anyone who goes to support me on my ko-fi, or considers following me on Ao3, or even just subscribes to a series, isn't really getting to see what I"m actually doing. They see a fic posted every 9 months, or every year. There's no real indication that anything they do is helping me regularly, that they're even supporting a Current Active writer. In light of that, I've been considering starting to post wips of mine. The problems with that are numerous and a bit overwhelming, hence wanting to hear others' opinions and vent about it ad nauseum. I've got lots of wips, and if I were to start posting them, I wouldn't want to toss the whole wip out at once. But posting a chapter at a time every few days or even once a week, while it would mean a lot of content coming out, it would be a lot of content that I haven't finished. Cliffhanger chapters, and unfinished stories that I can't promise would ever be finished. And I know I don't owe my readers anything, but it's still unsatisfying to post something without an ending. Then there's the absolute overload of possibly too Much content for people. Getting an e-mail every other day about a new chapter for a fic you've no interest in reading isn't fun. And on top of all that, is the editing. Often when I'm struggling with a fic, I find that i need to go back and change the beginning. In honesty, part of why I wait to post until I'm finished with fics is bc semi-regularly I'll get to the end of a fic, go back to the beginning and edit it all over again to make it more cohesive. To me there is no such thing as a 'finished' chapter. only a finished fic. If I posted as I wrote, then I'd either not be able to go back and edit chapters, or if I DID go back and edit my chapters, they would then need updated, and people who'd read the first 4 chapters of something would end up needing to reread the fic to get the full sense of what I'm doing. But at the same time, posting my wips would mean finally getting to share some stuff that's been gathering dust for years in some cases, finally getting to see people's reactions to them. Finally getting to know that even if I don't end up finishing it, at least people can enjoy what's already been written. And of course, finally getting to show people that when they support me through donations or comments or what-have-you, they're supporting an Active writer, supporting work being made every day, even if it's not FINISHED every day. All of these things are stuff I'm trying to take into consideration, and it's been a hell of a struggle. Plus, as I'm unfortunately trying to manage doing a part-time job rn, just getting up the energy for this stuff is a big BIG task.

If you've got any thoughts or strategic ideas, I'd love to hear them. If not, s'all good, I mostly just wanted to vent. XD

[kageyamatobiyogurt]

haikyuu boys getting their nails done for the first time 💅

a/n: ngl i’m not even a person who get their nails done regularly

- ALSO POSTING THIS AND REALIZING I’VE BEEN ON THIS BLOG FOR 2 YEARS OFFICIALLY?

includes: oikawa, bokuto, sakusa, kuroo

oikawa:

did not need much convincing to get them done LMAOAOAO

goes for something minimal but ✨expensive looking✨

personally, i think they just end up making his regular hands look more expensive

“you didn’t just want a plain color?”

“y/n i’m already getting them done so i might as well have them look good too, you know?”

he gets these baby blue, semi-translucent nails that aren’t too long, but definitely longer than he’s ever grown his actual nails

he keeps flexing and opening his hand to check them out as soon as they’re done

surprisingly, SURPRISINGLY, he manages to live with them without too much struggle

all of his actions just have this added flair to them (i swear he’s doing it on purpose)

somehow, he’s articulating himself so the nails are more visible to himself AND others

he paid for these so damn rIGHt you’re gonna notice them

he keeps lifting his pinky for no reason ???

bokuto:

two words: babe pls

mans willingly chooses to go for extravagant nails for no reasOn

like, you could have tried to warn him against it but it won’t work

definitely gets those coffin nails that extend at least an inch from where his fingers end 😭

ofc they’re decorated with little jewels and glitter for texture

he’s by no means uncomfortable with his masculinity and we love him for that

though he does wind up underestimating how much harder his life gets because of these ~ extensions

mans almost cries when he can’t fully close his fist because his nails get in the way

he can’t open a soda can PLEASE Y/N HELP HIM HE’S ON THE BRINK OF TEARS

imagine this six foot beast of a man just gently pushing the can towards you like, “y/n i can’t…”

you have to help him button up his shirts for his conferences or he’s straight up not showing up

sakusa:

another dainty fellow imo

he gets plain black nails so they don’t stand out too much but once again, they’re longer than he’s used to

they really suit him though

you almost find yourself a little entranced as he ties his hair back and you get a glimpse of the nails and he just looks so damn fine

it’s not the biggest deal for him but he’s a lot more careful than the other boys

i feel like it bothers him when he accidentally breaks a nail while he’s playing

after one spike in particular, he already feels that something is wrong

when he checks his nails, an immediate “tsk” leaves his mouth because now his nails don’t match

kuroo:

lowkey the most annoying out of everyone LMAOOO

he gets blood red almond-shaped nails for the *dramatic effect* 

it really feels like he’s fulfilled his nekoma cat aesthetic too NSYDHSJ

is immediately obsessed with them and the sensory aspects of them 

he’s automatically running his nails through his own scalp, through your scalp, lightly across your arm, you name it 

also the one to start talking with his hands/nails the most

cannot, for the love of everything, stop imitating maddy from euphoria PLEASE

he’ll be dramatic for any and every reason possible just to pinch and click his nails together

or he does that thing where he claps but his fingers are bent back a little bit more so his finger tips don’t touch

everything is for ✨the effect✨

in one case, you almost forgot to give him his goodbye kiss and he was appalled

hence you facing his claws for a whole two mins

“y/n *air pinch* i *pinch* cant *pinch* believe *pinch* you’d *pinch* almost *pinch* forget!”

take them off before the week ends pls for your sake