#truth be told - it’s not really my preference! i liked it a lot but sometimes it’s hard to stay up to date with long running fics

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

Is No Glory Voldemort snake faced?

i think it starts that way, yes 👍 but then he regains his human-like appearance 🤔

[shuenkio]

I only need you | 💕 chulso.

Paring: Ni-ki x male!reader

Genre: Fluff, enemies (not really) to lover trope.

Cw: brat word.

Summary: He wants you but he is denying when you are there for him.

Non proof read/wc:1.0k

Eng is not my 1st lang.

A|N: I know I have written a lot of school tropes but I'm still writing here with him, also I wrote this in my sleep so... It's a lil cringe.

Befriending the bad boy, Ni-ki, was your worst mistake. But that wasn't the end of it. The universe seemed to conspire to keep the two of you together, making it impossible to escape each other.Was it fate or coincidence? It didn’t matter, because wherever you went, Ni-ki was always there too.

Not only have you been classmates with him for five years, but even in 12th grade, he’s still there. Your name and his always seem to be side by side for a reason. It’s a good thing neither of you are the top students vying for the top spot on the board, but that doesn’t mean your friendship with him is all sweet and nice.

Behind it all, you hate his aura and the way he acts towards you. Some days, he annoys you non-stop, never letting you breathe or relax. Other days, he's unexpectedly nice, giving you free snacks or leaving his lunch under your desk. Mixed signals. Despite all the things you hate about Ni-ki, he's the opposite of you.

He might act all tough and come across as an annoying loser toward you, but deep down, he craves your attention. Yet, did he have the courage to confess that to you? Who would be foolish enough to reveal their true feelings to their one and only friend and crush, especially someone they are so close to? Such a confession could change everything. He prefers to keep things low-key, which is why he sometimes does things that send those strange, fluttering sensations through your stomach. Instead of words, he leaves his feelings in the little gestures—a snack here, a lunchbox there, or a fleeting touch that lingers longer than it should.

One day, he accidentally fell down the stairs, sustaining minor injuries to his leg and nose. Ni-ki was swiftly sent to the nurse's office, and the news spread through the classroom like wildfire. You dismissed it as just another instance of his clumsiness, thinking there was nothing to worry about. However, when a friend told you that Ni-ki needed you and was refusing treatment from the nurse, you quickly denied any involvement and refused to be his caretaker.

Before you know it, you're standing in front of the nurse's office, having been dragged there by your friends after a few stern lectures from them. You can't fathom why they care so much about him that they would go to such lengths to pull you out of class and deposit you here. All you get from them is a simple, "He needs you." Out of all people, it had to be you? You sigh, feeling the weight of their expectations. With a resigned breath, you push yourself to go in, deciding to repay him for all the small kindnesses he's shown you—the snacks, obviously.

You reluctantly step inside, fearing your friends' teasing if you don’t. As you approach Ni-ki, you see him lying on the bed with an ice bag on his leg, stubbornly refusing treatment. Standing face to face with him, you can't hide your disbelief as you question why he’s acting like a child. He avoids your gaze, his cheeks flushing a soft red. It feels like you've hit a nerve. Taking a deep breath, you hop onto the bed and sit beside his waist, folding your hands together like an exasperated parent.

"Yo, what's this all about?" you ask, avoiding his eyes, knowing you'd be mortified if you did.

"I didn't call you an idiot; those students made it up," Ni-ki mumbles, his lips tight, refusing to admit the truth. An uncomfortable silence fills the room. As you glance around for the nurse, your eyes land on a male nurse, and suddenly, everything clicks.

"You should’ve told me sooner; why are you acting all tough?" you say, leaving the bed to discuss the situation with the nurse. Ni-ki strains to eavesdrop, but all he hears is unintelligible murmuring, as if he were listening to white noise. He furrows his brows, trying to process what’s happening, replaying memories in his mind, but finding no clue about your next move.

With a cold smirk and an evil gaze, you roll up your sleeves and approach him. A chill runs down his spine as he gulps, attempting to muster rage, but failing miserably. He's speechless as you wrap your arms around his torso, cupping his face to keep his focus on you. Distracting him, you allow the nurse to examine and treat his leg without any tantrums from this ungrateful brat.

"Look at me, Ni-ki. Don’t you see? I'm right here. Don’t you like it?" you say, cringing internally, but knowing it's the quickest way to get through this. Ni-ki's world seems to stop as he looks into your eyes, captivated by your face. He acts cool and bratty to avoid being babied, but with you, it’s different.Since childhood, he’s been terrified of male doctors and nurses after a wrong injection left him bedridden for a month.

You witnessed it, and your memory clicks, understanding his behavior.

"*Sigh, if you're scared, just hug me or squeeze my hand, Chulso. Don’t think twice," you reassure. His tongue tied, your use of his old nickname makes him choke up even more. Without a word, his eyes widen, and he buries his face in your chest, pulling you closer in a swift motion, hugging your waistband affectionately.

"Ashh, you know too much about me."

"We're more than friends, Chulso; I’ve even seen you naked before," you tease.

"Don’t even start. And yes, I could make our friendship more than that."

"You switch quickly, I see. But what else do you have? Nothing surprises me."

"I'm going to make everyone believe you're my boyfriend from now on."

"What are you saying?"

"You two should get a room, you kids"

the nurse interjects.

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ crd to the owner of dividers: Anitalenia

🗣️ I admit I use chat gpt for more visualize (my idea is purely mine, only add small visualize&better words) because... I'm suck, (sorry not sorry)

[heya-dollface]

What to look for when making Long Hair for Dolls - The Differences in 100% Acrylic Yarns

Hey lovely doll peeps, hope you're having a good day! So over in the Dollblr community here on Tumblr, some people had some questions regarding making doll hair out of acrylic yarn. So I took some time to grab some yarn from my stash and lay out what I know about working with it. It was helpful there, so now I'm copying the post over here so you all can enjoy it and use its knowledge for your own doll needs. That said, if you're interested in the Dollbllr community, go reach out to @plasma-packin-peep/@peepersponies to see about getting an invite. It's a really sweet group of people from what I've experienced so far. <3

Let me give you a quick summary of about five years worth of learning to work with this material.

Welcome to my desk! Before you are five different yarns from my stash. All of these are 100% acrylic. As you can see, acrylic yarn comes in a wide variety of sizes and softness, and while I can do the same things to all of them, they will behave slightly differently. My favorites of this bunch are the Yarn Bee True Colors and the Charisma. Yarn Bee is the native brand to Hobby Lobby, and Charisma I've found at Michaels. Loops & Threads and Hometown, which aren't pictured here, other brands I've enjoyed working with in their thicker fiber variants, also over at Michaels.

The common wisdom in the doll community is that you use 100% acrylic because it's a synthetic fiber that can handle heat. That means it can handle a flat iron or curling wand without melting, which is what makes it look similar to real human hair on this scale. I haven't tested a ton in the way of other fibers. But one of my dolls, Sass here, uses a combination of 100% acrylic yarn and a yarn that's part acrylic, part nylon, and I wanna say part spandex? It's been like 4 years since I made this guy, and that yarn's label is lost, but you can see that the nylon yarn sticks out a little. It doesn't flat iron nicely into a fluffy, realistic hair, it's more stringy. So useful to know if you want that look!

So here's what we're going to do. I've taken all of the yarns pictured and taken them apart to show you how much fiber I lose on an average yarn prep. I'm gonna show you what that looks like from left to right. My method is to cut my yarn, unravel each strand by hand, then take a wire pet brush to it to smooth it out. Instead of tying my yarn to a hanger or hoop, I hold it in my hand, brush through the yarn gently until I'm halfway through, then flip it and go after it from the other side. This is good for ensuring that my length is preserved. Whatever fiber gets stuck in the pet brush, I then take out, mush together, and brush through again so that I have more yarn hair to work with. After that, I will take a flat iron to it and then brush through one more time, but I'm not showing those last two steps here. That said, sometimes flat ironing does lead to losing more fiber, so that is something to consider.

Let's start with that big chonker. This is also a Yarn Bee yarn, and it's probably ideal for an easy time getting your hair unraveled. I have yet to use this one on a doll, truth be told I got it on clearance and haven't figured out who the color would suit. It's very easy to pull apart and work with, and as you can see, it retains a lot of its length.

Next is the True Colors. This stuff is so soft, which is why it's my preference, and while it can be easy to tear apart, you can still retain a lot of length if you're gentle. Like look at the far right, that's all the fiber I took out of the pet brush and mushed back together. It's still a pretty sizable amount of yarn fiber to work with!

The Charisma is a similar story. Something you've probably noticed is that not all yarns have the same amount of strands when pulled apart. I tend to see 2 to 4 on average when I'm prepping yarn. This is a two strander, and once again, it's soft and delightful. Highly recommend going to a physical store and touching your yarn before your buy it. The softer stuff is my preference given how much I'm holding and touching it.

This yarn from Mainstay I got on clearance at Walmart, and it's actually quite soft to the touch! As you can see, our strands are getting thinner here, which is harder to unravel with your fingers. I loose a lot of length when brushing through yarn like this, and it's hard to mush the fibers back together. Yarn like this is incredibly common, and I'll be honest, I don't love working with it. ^^''' But it may be perfect for your project needs! All depends on what you want in a yarn. If you're looking to give a doll a wavy/curled hair without having to curl it yourself, just unraveling and plugging a lot of these in might be for you!

I don't remember where this seafoam green yarn came from, but I think it might be yarn marketed for making baby clothes. It's very thin, and it knots a little at the ends when you unravel it, which is frustrating. I managed to preserve and reconstruct pretty well with this fiber, but the amount of hassle it takes to get through this for a full head of doll hair is very aaaahhh. Like I said, maybe this works for your project. I tend to save this kind of yarn for stuff like accents rather than the main hair color, just because it takes so long to work with.

And there you have it! Those are my notes about brushing out doll hair! As a quick aside, you don't have to brush out yarn in order for it to be beautiful. Sometimes I like to only unravel it and use it that way, like with my recent fairy doll here. She uses a blend of two True Colors yarns and I wanna say a Charisma for the white. There's even a pink and white yarn in here that I didn't brush out, I just boiled and then froze it around a foam curler and threw it in for more texture, though it's a bit tough to spot in this photo.

At the end of the day, you can use just about any acrylic yarn for your project, the question is really what are you willing to put up with. I know myself, I know that I can put on a movie or chat with friends as I'm unraveling a thicker fiber yarn and then brush it out another time and have it be tolerable. That works for me. As you can see, a staple of my dolls is having really long, soft yarn hair, so it makes sense that this is what I gravitate towards. XD

But maybe you want something different out of your yarn experience. That's fine too! The best thing you can do is experiment to see what you like. Do what makes you happy! There is no wrong way to customize your dolls (so long as you're not putting yourself or others in danger). Go have fun, be kind to yourself, and be safe in handling your materials. And of course, if you have any questions, feel free to ask! I've been customizing since November of 2018, and I love chatting about this art form. To my beginners especially, there is no such thing as a stupid question, don't be afraid to ask for help if you're unsure of where to go.

Here's wishing you all a wonderful day, and happy customizing! <3

[rxmqnova]

So i was thinking about Wanda x Reader where yn is the owner of a company and met Wanda when she went to have a coffee, and it was at her cafeteria, for both of them was love at first sight and for then, they were having dates.

Wanda wanted Yn to met her friends, first Nat, when they met she recognize yn for somewhere but didn't know where, in that, yn didn't tell Wanda about her job because always people tried to take advantage and even Wanda didn't do anything like that, she was a bit insecure about it.

Nat searched everything she knew and found why yn sounds so familiar so she went to her company for answers, and Yn told her the truth, that she is in love and she was planning to tell Wanda about everything and hoping she will understand why she did that.

So when Yn and Wanda had that date, it was at yn's house, and then after having dinner, she told her that secret and ask for forgiveness but Wanda understood and even if she prefered to know the truth before, she didn't care about it, always asking that she doesn't want anything expensive for gifts, she wasn't like that.

The lie

NO ONE'S POV Exactly 4 months ago Y/N made a decision to get coffee in one specific cafeteria after a really stressful day at work. And since then she hasn't had coffee anywhere else.

The girl who served her and happens to be the owner of the cafeteria, immediately fell in love with her.

Some people don't believe in love at first sight, but these two fell in love with each other right in the moment they saw each other for the first time.

Y/N kept visiting the same cafeteria over and over again, sometimes even more times a day, just so she could see the prettiest girl with the most beautiful green eyes she's ever seen.

And then it happened, Y/N finally got the courage and asked Wanda out on a date on which Wanda couldn't say no. She liked the girl ever since she saw her walk through the door of her cafeteria for the first time.

Well, they started going out quite often and now they're dating for the fourth month already.

"Baby?" Wanda looks at her girlfriend as they're snuggled up on the couch in Wanda's apartment and watching a movie.

"Hmm?" Y/N hums in response, letting her girlfriend know she's listening.

"You know… we're together for 4 months and you still haven't met my friends. I've been thinking that I could invite them over, so that you could finally meet them. Would that be okay with you?" Wanda asks, looking at her girlfriend while waiting for an answer.

"Oh, sure. Okay" Y/N nods with a smile.

She doesn't have many friends, so meeting new people sounds nice. It's just the fact that Y/N has money and lots of her so called friends just wanted to use her kindness and get money from her, so Y/N decided to better not establish any relationships. Well, but then she met Wanda.

"Great! How about Friday?" Wanda asks excitedly. She's very excited about Y/N meeting her friends as she's told them a lot about her girlfriend.

"Friday sounds good" Y/N smiles warmly, pecking Wanda's lips with a quick kiss before the two move their attention back to the movie.

———

Friday came sooner than Y/N thought and the first guest only just rang the doorbell. Y/N takes a deep breath, watching as Wanda walks away to open the door and following behind her.

"Natasha" Wanda smiles widely, pulling her friend in for a hug. "Y/N, this is my friend Natasha. Nat, this is my girlfriend Y/N" She introduces the two happily.

"Hi, nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you" Natasha holds her hand out for a handshake, looking at the familiar face.

"Hey, nice to meet you too" Y/N smiles warmly, shaking Natasha's hand.

"I feel like I've seen you somewhere. Haven't we met in the past?" Natasha can't help but ask, thinking hard where she's seen the girl.

Y/N's eyes widen a little bit, surprised the redhead finds her familiar. She knows exactly where she saw the redhead. Natasha's sister needed Y/N's lawyer services as she got into some trouble a few years ago. Well, and Yelena once brought her older sister to their meeting.

But the truth is that Y/N wasn't completely honest when Wanda asked about her job. She told her girlfriend she works as a driver for one rich guy, even got her personal driver to change roles and pretend she works for him and drives him anywhere he wishes.

It wasn't even an intentional lie, Y/N panicked when Wanda asked her about her job, knowing all of her previous relationships were built up on the fact that she has money. She didn't want this to be the reason of Wanda staying with her… even though she knows Wanda is not like that.

"I don't think so" Y/N lies.

The three move to the living room, sitting down on the couch and talking. Soon they get joined by Wanda's other friends and luckily for Y/N, Yelena's not between them.

———

Natasha is the type of person who's capable of nearly anything to find out the truth. She knows Y/N is familiar and she just has to know why.

That's why she's searched every corner of the internet until she found why Y/N seemed so familiar. Of course Wanda told her friends what Y/N does for living… that she's a driver.

Well, and this lie is something Natasha took an interest in. So now she's on her way to Y/N's company, determined to find out the truth about why is Y/N lying. Wanda's gotten her heart broken a few times and Natasha definitely doesn't want that to happen to her friend again.

"Miss Y/L/N, you have a visitor" Y/N's assistent announces, making Y/N furrow her brows as she's not expecting anyone for the next two hours.

"Hmm. Okay? Who is it?"

"Hm. A woman named Natasha Romanoff. Do you want me to let her in?" The assistent asks on which Y/N sighs, squeezing her eyes shut and knowing her lie just got her.

"… Yeah, let her in. Thank you" Y/N sighs once again, her fingers nervously tapping on her wooden desk.

"I didn't know drivers own companies" Natasha says as soon as she steps into the office. "I don't understand, Y/N. Why are you lying to Wanda? She's been through a lot and she doesn't deserve to be lied to again"

"I- Natasha, I can explain" Y/N responds immediately.

"Well, I hope so" The redhead raises an eyebrow, waiting for the explanation and taking a seat on the couch Y/N has in her office.

"It's just… everyone who I was in relationship before Wanda was with me only because I had money. I didn't want that with Wanda, so when she asked me, I-I just panicked and made up that I was a driver" Y/N explains, hoping Natasha would believe her. "I've been planning to tell her soon, I swear. I would never want to hurt her… I really love her, Nat" She confesses, Natasha staring deeply into her eyes.

"… She loves you too. She won't shut up about you, so you better tell her as soon as possible" Natasha states, standing up and walking out, earning just a nod from the girl.

———

"Why do you look so nervous today? You haven't even eaten much. Is everything okay?" Wanda asks concerned, placing her hand on top of her girlfriend's.

Ever since the talk with Natasha this morning, Y/N's been feeling super nervous about telling Wanda the truth, worrying Wanda would break up with her when she finds out she lied to her.

"… Wanda, I need to tell you something" Y/N blurts out, taking a deep breath.

"Y-you don't want to break up, do you?"

"What? No, of course not. It's just… I-I lied to you… about my job" Y/N finally admits, receiving a confused look from her girlfriend. "I'm not a driver, Wanda… I own a lawyer company. I'm a lawyer"

"Oh… okay. Why… why didn't you tell me before?" Wanda asks, still a bit taken back from Y/N's confession.

"You know, I… I've dated a few people before and just… all those people were with me only because I have money. I know you're not like them, but I just didn't want our relationship to be like that. I'm really sorry" Y/N admits, finally looking up at Wanda and locking her eyes with her.

"… Y/N/N, I really don't care about how much money you have. I love you for who you are and not for money. And even though I'd prefer way more if you had told me the truth right when I asked you… I see why you did it" Wanda says, taking Y/N's hand in hers and interlocking fingers with her girlfriend.

"So you're not mad at me?" Y/N question, still a bit nervous. "I'm glad you told me the truth. Just promise me we won't lie to each other ever again" Wanda smiles, rubbing Y/N's knuckles with her thumb and receiving a smile back from her girlfriend.

"I promise"

~~~

Masterlist

Series masterlist

[spid3namy]

Miles morales × F reader with like just in general body issues like shes not curvy with an hourglass figure and she's just insecure thinking he doesn't find her body attractive

(definitely not projecting 🤡)

pairing : e!42/1610 miles x insecure!female reader

summary : you don’t feel pretty, miles decides to help show you just how beautiful you really are to him

contains : fluff, angst, insecurities, projection, kissing, somewhat body worship, they are in their late teens, probably incorrect spanish, cussing

word count : 1352

notes : okay, so like this request was really good fr cus i used to suffer from being really insecure back in the day so this was lowkey me projecting like a LOT. also, there won’t be TOO much detail about the body type just cus like i kinda want it to be inclusive to like everyone. anyways, enjoy the story! <33

Ugly. 

That’s the only thing you thought about when you stared at yourself in the mirror. 

The way your body looked made your stomach churn. The way you felt as though you were nothing was a worrying known feeling that you were pretty much used to by now. 

Shit sucked.

All the girls at school were so damn pretty. Each having beautiful traits on their bodies. Sophomore year of high school was when you noticed just how beautiful everyone but you was.

The guys were all over those girls. The ones with the beautiful long hair. Ones with those pretty eyes. Ones who had hourglass bodies. Ones who.. weren't you. 

It was almost pathetic how obsessed you had been when it came to how the other girls looked. Why couldn’t you look like them?

Why couldn’t your body be curvy?

Why couldn’t you have big boobs?

Why couldn’t you be pretty like the other girls?

Those questions rang through your head as you continued to judge yourself through the mirror. Why were you so fucking unlucky?

“Oye hermosa! You in here?”

You jump when you hear your boyfriend’s voice. He wasn’t supposed to be here until later! You let out a noise and quickly grab a hoodie from inside your dresser, throwing it over your head before you emerge from your bedroom.

“Hey, Miles..”

“Oh there you are, I’ve been calling your name for like 5 minutes now. I was worried you might’ve not been home.”

“Sorry.. I guess, I got distracted” 

Miles gives you a look before he presses a kiss onto your cheek, his arm wrapping around your waist delicately. You could feel your lips curve upwards into a smile from the affection you were given. Even if you were upset, he always knew how to cheer you up. He had always been good at that.

“How’s my beautiful girl doin’?” You try not to grimace when he speaks. 

You’re not beautiful. He’s lying to you. He just wants to make you feel better. You’re actually ugly. He doesn’t love you. He wants someone else. Someone who is better and prettier than you. 

That stupid voice in your head makes you want to scream. Why did it never shut up? Why did it always have to talk? 

But you knew it was true. The voice was just trying to help you. To show you the truth. Well.. the truth you’ve made up in your head anyway. 

“Mama, are you okay?” Miles rubbed a small circle on your waist; the feeling alone caused you to cringe.

“Don’t touch there..”

Miles stared at you in confusion, an eyebrow being raised and his hands moving up from your waist to your face. It was weird to see you being this way. One thing about being as insecure as you were, you never told anyone about it.

You preferred suffering in silence.

Besides, how was anyone really supposed to help with your body issues? With your insecurities? Sure, they can call you pretty all they want but could you really trust them? What if they were lying just to make you feel better? 

It was a never-ending cycle. 

“Mama, are you.. okay? Is somethin’ botherin’ you?”

“Leave it alone, Miles.”

“Y/N.”

“Miles.”

Miles lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his temples in annoyance. You always did this. Pushing things down was so annoying sometimes. Especially when all he wanted to do was help you! But no, you just had to refuse his help. 

He loved you, more than anything in the world, but sometimes you were a little too much for him.

“Y/N, tell me what the problem is. I wanna help you.”

“By doin’ what, Miles? It’s not like you can just magically turn me pretty.”

There it was. Before you even realized it, you had said too much. 

Miles stared at you and furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes scanning over your face before he took a step closer to you. You knew that look. That was the look he gave any boy that dared talk to you. That meant he was about to go off. And you sadly walked right into that. 

“What?”

“Nothin’, Miles. I ain’t even said nothin’.”

“Don’t play this game with me, chica. The fuck did you just say?”

“It’s nothing, just fuckin’ drop it.”

Miles gives you a look and you instantly know how stupid you were for refusing to tell him. You knew you couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t show him just how vulnerable you are. Couldn’t show him just how much you hated the way your body looked. How you didn’t look like other girls. 

He would think you’re pathetic. 

“You smokin’ again?”

“What? No!”

“Mhm. Well, you must be high out of your fuckin’ mind to think that you’re not the most gorgeous woman on this planet. Besides Megan Thee Stallion, of course.”

“Ha ha, you’re so fuckin’ funny.” You roll your eyes at his comment, your voice filled with nothing but sarcasm from his horrible attempt at a joke. Or whatever the hell that shit was.

Miles let out a snort and took a step closer to you, cupping your face and pressing a couple of kisses onto your face. It was like he was attempting to comfort you but it was awkward to do so. At least, that’s the impression you were getting from him. You appreciated the effort but it really wasn’t work out all that well. 

“Come on, jus’ look at you, mama.. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“Miles, quit.”

“Shh.”

You pout and squirm around in his grip, moving your gaze away from him. He was so embarrassing sometimes. Miles continued to press kisses onto your face before his hands soon moved down to under your hoodie.

“Miles.”

“Don’t worry, mama.. I ain’t gonna do nothin’.”

“Watch your hands, boy.”

“Yes, ma’am..”

You roll your eyes but otherwise allow his hands to wander around your frame. You let out a gasp from the feeling of his cold hands moving up and down your stomach, stopping just under where your bra sat. He was getting a little too handsy. But you trusted him. Trusted that he wouldn’t do anything. 

“You’re so gorgeous, mama. Especially when you wear those fire ass fits.”

“Mm? Which ones?”

“All of them.”

Your cheeks heat up from his comment; your hand instinctively comes up to push at his chest in embarrassment. He didn’t move away from you though, only got closer. 

You knew he couldn’t make the insecurities go away. But he was doing a hell of a good job taking her mind off the reasons she was insecure in the first place. Sure, she’ll remember them later but that was a problem for when she got there. Right now, she just wanted to focus on him.

His lips and the way they felt on her skin. His fingers touching her body. His voice whispering sweet words to her. Everything caused her brain to just shut down and focus on him. And god, she fucking loved him for that. 

“You’re so pretty, chica.”

You merely hum in response, your shoulders relaxing as he grabs your face. Miles looks into your beautiful e/c eyes and presses a quick kiss onto your lips, only a peck though. 

“Say it, mama.”

“Say what?”

Miles looks at you like the answer to the question was just so damn obvious. And it was but still.

“Say you’re pretty.”

“Miles, I-”

“Say it.”

You let out a deep sigh and stare at him for a while. He looks at you expectedly, his eyes staying locked onto yours. There was seemingly no escape from this. 

You scoff and roll your eyes before you mumble your next sentence, “‘m pretty.”

“Louder.”

“‘M pretty.” You repeat it a little louder than before, loud enough for the both of you to hear it. 

“Good.” Miles smiled and leaned forward, pressing his lips onto yours. It was sweet; it had always been sweet whenever you two kissed. 

That voice was still in the back of your head but at least it was silenced. For now.

[604to647]

Safest with You - Ch. 3 (The Drycleaner)

3.2K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You listen to a sign from the universe and it leads you to Din.

Warnings: Some pining and then more fluff 💕 although Reader is a bit of menace as she straight up ogles Din like a piece of meat 😂, brief mention of female masturbation, reader is described as shorter than Din, first use of pet name “Pretty Bird”.

A/N: The series is slow but sometimes falling in love be like that. I pinned a series masterlist, so you can always jump to the smutty one shots that happen later in the timeline when these two are in an established relationship if you need a fix. The fact that Din boxes is 100% attributed to @djarinsbeskar's Boxer!Din AU which was the very first Din fic AU I ever read on Tumblr and remains one of my favourites and one I revisit often; making Din a former boxer/owner of a boxing gym is my small but humble homage to Rachel's genius. Also from that same AU is this piece of art from one of my favourite artists, @kate-komics that I think about often also. Thank you both for the inspiration!

“He bought you books?!?”

“Well, technically, he bought us all books.”

The whole table laughs; your friends were delighted when you handed out the books, but they’re entralled at the background story that comes with.

“And he didn’t leave you his number or anything?”

“No! Told the cashier he didn’t want to want me to feel ‘obligated’.”

“It’s okay, babe.  We’ll find him,” nods Katie, whipping out her phone. 

Bea starts typing on her phone as well, “Right.  He said his name is Din?  How do you spell that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it short for something?”

“I don’t know.”

“How old is he?”

“I don’t know.  40s?  He’s greying,” you picture Din’s soft curls and bury your face in your hands, “it looks so fucking good on him.” 

“Where does he work?”

“I don’t know.  Not downtown.”

“Well, what does he do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Babe. What do you know?”

“I know his coffee order is Ice Quad Expresso in a Venti cup with extra ice and six shots.”

“Ok, so we know he probably has a heart condition.”

Everyone bursts out laughing.  Your friends have good reason to be so enthusiastic – it’s been ages since someone has caught your eye.  You don’t date a lot, and that’s always been your preference.  You have a picky temperament to begin with, but the truth is, you’re happy and at peace with the way your life is now after years of hard work.  There simply hasn’t been room or a need for a partner, and your friends don’t push you to date (except Jen who always reminds you that there’s a guy at her firm she wants to set you up with, but even that’s more in good fun than anything).  But right now, you look flushed and besotted over this stranger; positively smitten.  They love it for you.

After a few minutes, no one has found anything on social media, any dating apps or Google – admittedly, there wasn’t much (anything?) to go on, but you’ve seen these girls work internet detective miracles before.

Oh well. 

You sigh, “I need to get drunk and forget him.  Or painfully obsess over every detail I can remember.”

And you all cheers to that.

---

Huh.

A week later on the Saturday, you’re out running errands, and you find yourself standing in front of your drycleaner which has unexpectedly closed.  A handwritten sign in the window reads: “Emergency Closure.  Reopening to be announced.”

The drycleaner’s is supposed to be your first stop of the day and you don’t really feel like carting your dirty clothes with you to run the rest of your errands.  Moreover, you’ll need a few of the items in the coming weeks.  You take out your phone to look up other drycleaners in the area when something in your mind clicks: Peli’s Drycleaning on 14th.  You search it and see it actually exists, and has a pretty good rating to boot.  But, it’s sort of out of your way, not really in the same area you’re in at all.

You shouldn’t go.

Should you go?

And what if you do?  Do you… ask about Din?  That’s weird. 

But you’ve been thinking about him non-stop all week: daydreaming about his soft smile during your work commute, remembering the flex of his strong hand covering yours as you answer emails, getting lost in thoughts of his big brown eyes while out walking the dog.  You flush at the memory of touching yourself in bed while recalling his deep and rich voice.  Every attempt to forget your handsome Quad Ice over the past week has utterly failed.

Eff it. What are the chances that you unexpectedly need a new drycleaner, and it happens to be the only thing tangentially related to Din that you know? Maybe the universe is trying to help you out.

Before you can characteristically overthink it, you flag down a cab and give the driver the address you looked up; your heart pounds the entire ride over.

When you step into drycleaner’s, a little bell above the door jingles to signal your arrival, and a short woman with a huge amount of curly dark hair appears from the back.  You think she might be Peli, but you can’t be sure; she gives you a huge smile and gestures to take in your clothes.  Finding her to be super friendly and chatty, the two of you make easy small talk as she neatly lists out your items by hand on her notepad.  When she gets to the coffee stained skirt, she lets out a low whistle, “Oof.  Been there, done that!” she quips.  You decide this is probably the best opening you’ll get, “Actually, that coffee stain is probably why I’m here.  Someone saw it and recommended your place.”  Peli raises her eyebrow as you press on, “His name is Din, he said he’s a friend of the owner?”

This gets her attention; the woman stops what she’s doing and studies you with great interest.  Her face breaks out into an impossibly wide smile and she exclaims loudly, “Din sent you, eh?  And he said we were friends?”  she lets out a deep belly laugh, “Babysat him when he was a kid, but yep we’re friends. Ha!  Hi, I’m Peli!”  She shakes your hand as you introduce yourself. “He said to mention his name and you would try harder not to lose my clothes,” you joke. 

“That scamp!” chortles Peli, “Don’t worry!  We’ll take good care of you!  You know… because of Din.” She rolls her eyes good naturedly.

“Of course.  Because of Din,” you grin back, “So…does he send a lot of… people who need drycleaning, your way?”

“Nope!  You’re the first!  And honestly, now that I think about it, why hasn’t he been sending me more business?”

You figure it’s now or never, “Do you know where I could find him?”

If possible, Peli brightens even more at your question, “Oh yeah, for sure!  At this time of day, he’ll be at his gym.  It’s about 2 blocks that way,” she points in the direction for you, “can’t miss it!  Big sign that says ‘Mando’s Gym’.”

Peli finishes taking down your information for the clothes and lets you know when everything can be ready.  You give her an enthusiastic thanks; when opening the door to leave, you have a moment of hesitation, but looking back, you find Peli already pointing in the direction of the gym.  You give her a smiling nod and head that way.

---

Peli was right.  You can’t miss the sign; it sits atop of a standalone three story building that’s set further back on its lot.  The front area of the lot looks like it might have once been a driveway of sorts, but is now used as a parking lot; a handful of parked cars lets you know the gym is fairly busy today.  The front of the building has giant windows that look like garage doors and makes you think that the building might have once been a mechanic repair shop; from the little of what you can see inside, you think the gym occupies the first floor of the building and possibly the second.  The big set of garage door windows are separated in the middle by an entry way that you walk through, slightly nervous.  Once inside, you see a reception but currently no one behind the small desk; instead, you peek around the partition wall behind the desk and see that the space opens up to a clean, spacious room that has about 8-10 people working out on various machines and punching bags lining the walls, all leading to a larger group of people clustering near the boxing ring centered at the back of the room.

You’re making your way towards the back, scanning over the group looking for Din when you spot him, right in the middle of the ring.  He’s got his gloved hands up, blocking part of his head, but you can still tell it’s him; when you hear him shouting encouraging words to his sparring partner, his familiar voice sends a shiver up your spine.  He’s wearing a sweat drenched grey t-shirt and his hair is messy and wet from his work out, but he looks even better than you remember.

Actually, he looks fucking delicious.  From this angle you can see the cut of his jawline and how it tightens as his grunts and pants.  His arms are flexed from his forearms up to his biceps, and are so muscular they’re straining hard against his shirt sleeves.  You must be straight up ogling him because you don’t even realize when Din notices you; you’re too busy looking at his legs and admiring how his thighs fill out his navy blue shorts so snugly.  You only look up when those same legs start walking in your direction and come to a stop at the edge of the ring.  Din is leaning towards you against the rope with a heart-stopping smile, “It’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me,” you grin, repeating back his words to you from the bookstore.

Din thinks he must be dreaming, or maybe he’s been knocked in the head one too many times today.  He had just paused the fight to show Jimmy the new combination again, when he looked over to see the prettiest sight.  You, standing in his gym, soft and dainty, with a wide eye expression on your face.  You’re looking in his direction, but when you don’t make eye contact with him immediately, Din allows himself the smug thought that you might be liking what you see and puffs his chest out a little before making his way over to you.

Now you’re looking at him with that same pretty smile that he hasn’t been able to get out of his head for the last week, and he can’t wait to talk to you again, “Are you okay to wait for 5 minutes?  We’re just finishing up this training session.”

You nod agreeably, “Sure, I can wait.”  There’s a bench running along the right side of the ring where you take a seat to better enjoy the show.  You’ve never seen boxing up close before, so you don’t know what to expect, but you find yourself mesmerized by everything Din is doing in the ring.  All his movements are intentional and graceful; he’s in total control of every motion he makes: ducking, blocking, punching.  His muscles are all flexed and his shirt stretches tight, barely containing them as if Din himself is an extension of the explosive power harnessed in his fists.  The legs that you were drooling over earlier are quick and agile; it’s true you don’t know his age but his sparring partner looks to be in his mid-20s and Din is having no problem out maneuvering him.

As he circles the other fighter, you think you spy some ink on a flash of some exposed skin and the idea of exploring what’s underneath Din’s shirt has you swallowing hard.  In short, you can’t take your eyes off of him. 

The 5 minutes is action packed and over before you know it.  In one continuous smooth motion, Din ducks under the rope, jumps down and grabs a fresh towel from a stack on the other end of the bench you’re sitting on before sliding over to sit next to you.  He looks at you almost bashfully as he towels off his hair and wipes the sweat from his brow and neck.  You think you could get used to seeing him like this: cheeks pink from exercise, bright eyes glued to yours and a grin so wide it reveals a deep dimple in his right cheek that you’re discovering for the first time.  He’s taking your breath away and you haven’t even been back in his presence for more than 10 minutes.

“What brings you to this part of town today, pretty bird?”

If anyone else had bestowed a pet name on you so soon after having met, you would have immediately gotten the ick, but the endearment rolling off Din’s tongue sounds so natural and sweet, it has you melting, “Some handsome guy bought me a thick stack of books and then made it nearly impossible for me to thank him.  Tracked him down to this gym.”

“Handsome guy, eh?”

“Yep.  Real handsome.  And sweet.  You know anyone around here like that?” you tease.

Handsome.  You think he’s handsome. Din thinks his heart is in danger of no longer fitting in his chest.  He holds his hand up to his brow, as if to shield his eyes from the light, and mines looking around gym in an exaggerated manner, “Nope.  Just a bunch of smelly, sweaty ruffians.  Owner’s a handsome guy though, maybe you’re looking for him,” he says, eyes twinkling.

“You own this gym?”

“Sure do.  Used to be my dad’s.”

“Well, he would be proud of you and what you’ve done here, Din.  It looks great.”  You mean it, and you look around the gym with a renewed sense of awe now that you know Din is the one responsible for its operations.

Din’s not sure how you knew the exact thing to say to make his heart swell, but he knows without a doubt that you’re being genuine and he is reminded again of your kind nature. 

You look back to see Din looking at you with a soft expression and before you let yourself get lost in his eyes, you force yourself to pull it together, “Oh Din!  I can’t believe I didn’t say this right away: Thank you!! Thank you for the books.  It was so incredibly unexpected and sweet!  My friends also say thank you – a few of the books you bought were for them.”

“You’re very welcome.  Have you enjoyed the books?”

You’re warmed by how thoughtful Din is, and you let him know the books are turning out to be great and you and your friends can’t believe how long you’ll have to wait for the next instalment to come out.

“Do you have plans to read tonight, or would you happen to be free?”

Even though you had been hoping that Din would ask you out, your heart leaps into your throat now that it’s happening.  “I think I should be!  If I finish up this list of errands I’m supposed to get to today, that is.  Giving Peli my drycleaning was only the first item,” you lament. 

“Peli!  Is that how you found me?  Clever girl.”

You beam at Din’s praise.  You realize you haven’t explained how you knew where he was, “As luck would have it, my regular drycleaner was unexpectedly closed.  Nearly derailed my whole errand day until I remembered you mentioning you had a friend who ran a drycleaning business.  Something else I need to thank you for.”

“I’m glad I could help.  Well, if you have a bunch of errands you have to finish before you can go out with me tonight, I’m going to scoot you out of here right now so you don’t cancel. Scoot!”  Din adds a silly shooing motion with his hands as he says this, so you know he’s not seriously trying to get rid of you.  You giggle, but nod, eager to get on with your tasks so that your date with Din might come sooner.

Din asks you if you need a ride, but you tell him you’ll be fine and jokingly scoff, “Hey!  I don’t want you putting off your work and then backing out either, mister.”

“Not a chance,” grins Din.

As you walk together towards the front of the gym, Din lets you know how much he’s been thinking about you,  “I’m really glad you came to here today.  I was about to camp out everyday at the coffeeshop in the morning and then that bookstore in the afternoon until I found you again.”

“Who would have looked after the gym if you did that?”

Din looks around at the gym; some of the boxers and staff that had been watching the two of you look away quickly and pretend to busy themselves to avoid being caught staring.  “Shoot.  This place probably would have burned down.  Looks like you just saved the gym.”

You can’t help but giggle again and Din feels a growing sense of pride in being able to make you laugh.  “How about tonight I take you out to dinner as a thank you?”

Giving him an incredulous look, you answer, “I should be taking you out to dinner to thank you.”

“I don’t think so, pretty bird.”

The pet name shoots straight to your core again. 

Din stretches himself up to his full height and looks down at you with mock stern expression, cocking his eyebrow.

You can’t say you’re at all intimidated even though he towers over you; you’ve long since felt that Din’s company spelled safety.  But to play along, you counter by looking up at him with your biggest pleading eyes.  Din is instantly disarmed and knows in this moment that he will never be able to refuse you anything.

He suggests a compromise, “How about we go for dinner and fight about the check there?”

“Ok.  But just so you know, I’m not used to losing,” you challenge playfully.

“Me neither.” Din tilts his head slightly to draw your attention to the wall you’re standing next to.  It’s the other side of the divider wall you rounded when you came in, and you see that it’s covered with awards, certificates, and articles lauding Din’s boxing accomplishments.

Amazed, you skim over the honours and achievements, “This is you?  Wow – you’re incredible Din!  …9 times weight division champion? Oh man, now I don’t know if I can take you.”

“I bet you could,” from the look on Din’s face, you’re sure that the double meaning is meant as a tease, but you can’t help squirming a little.

Blushing, you relent, “Ok, you can pay for dinner.  But I still have to thank you for the books.”

Din is finding your persistence on this point to be adorable, “Your ‘thanks’ is enough.  No need to feel like you owe me; it was a gift.”

“I know.  I just have an outrageous sense of reciprocity.  I really do want to find a way to thank you somehow.”  You reach up and put your hand on Din’s shoulder to hold yourself steady as you lift up onto your toes and kiss him on the cheek.  Despite having just gone who knows how many rounds in the ring, he smells incredible and you can’t help but linger your lips on his cheek.  You exhale softly and hold Din’s gaze as you slowly lower down to your normal height.

Din looks as affected as you feel, “Remind me to buy you some more books.”

Both of you laugh, now giddy about the prospect of seeing each other again in a few hours.  You exchange numbers and Din promises to text you later with the address of the restaurant he’ll meet you at tonight.

Heading down the street, heart aflutter and fingers trembling with excitement, you take out your phone and text the group chat: I found him.

[sugar-petals]

sub!𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷 💙𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚊𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝  (18+)

⇢ gentle femdom (n.) :: a variant of bdsm emphasizing affectionate play with a pliant sub rather than hard kinks, brat taming, sadism, or hierarchy.

pairing. pleaser!bangchan x femdom!reader 

WARNINGS. ⚠️ rated m, soft sub chris, light restraints, studio and car sex, mommy kink, pegging, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, frottage, shy chan, vanilla positions, lack of aftercare bc chan sleeps fast 😅, self-esteem issues, food play mention, established relationship 

★ wc. 3k

↳ [ // 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. ] a soft hc for for valentine’s 💌 following lee know’s version, more sub!skz worldbuilding! good boy chan agenda going strong here... truth be told, it’s always interesting to write leaders showing their true face. not sure if i’ll make this a complete series due to my standard high word counts; if there’s a member u absolutely want to read about take to the replies/asks, if multiple people chime in for someone i see what i can do! as for now, sub chan enthusiasts enjoy! 💛

read it on ao3 | 💋 masterlist 💋

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Fast asleep within a mere five minutes. Like an ice statue frozen for a thousand years. If this guy puts the strain of having sex on top of his already endless to-do list, he’s gonna doze off in Guinness World record time some day. In his vocabulary, what even is aftercare? He’s like don’t worry mate, I’m fine, maybe a warm glass of water, now good nig—zzZ.

When you didn’t know each other so well yet, you planned to run him a nice bath and all, but reality hit with Chan entering the dream land after getting a spanking. So, in the end, aftercare is just handing him a pillow and toweling him down while he’s already in the twilight zone. See you tomorrow! Reducing the craziness of sex doesn’t really make him stay awake, nor do you want him to — any sleep is good sleep for Chan, anyway. If sex exhaustion is his justification for sleep rather than editing another whole damn album, why not. Play with you is his best excuse to nap.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Chan likes his arms and wow-factor shoulders generally, but it’s not limited to them. Some days, he’s way happier with something else (proud of leg day, let’s go). On other days, he doesn’t like anything and tries to ignore that. Every mirror an enemy. The next day, he feels better about something else entirely. Stray Kids going through so many bold outfits and intricate stylings has sort of confused him about how he naturally looks sometimes. Chan is not content with his bare face, but feels better after you pepper it with kisses.

When it comes to you, he’d never say a thing about a preference. You won't be able to tell where Chan’s mind goes the most, and it generally doesn’t hyperfocus on one body part anyway. Does he like legs best, hips, hands, back, your chest? No one knows. All he says is, „I really like your figure“ — and that’s all. Of course he thinks his domme is hot as fuck, in fact, he thinks she fucking slays. He’s just a gentleman about it.

You like his eyebrows and curly bangs a lot. In your eyes, he has a really handsome and memorable face to begin with (that eyeshadow game makes it even better, holy cow). Even classically handsome, even if he doesn’t really believe it. You saying „Damn you look good!“ when he puts on a tight outfit that accentuates his body shape, it really flatters him to the core. You like his sexy face chains and accessories, chokers galore, and virtually any type of harness fitted all across his torso or legs. Chan is a wet BDSM dream come true and he doesn’t even realize it, does he.

c= cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Actually not that into it. His own cum, I mean. Chan usually forgets to rub one out even when he feels a little twitch while working. Too focused. He ignores his libido often. Same idea extends to cumming inside you as far as vanilla is concerned. Chan knows it’s awkward to clean it all out. He’d rather wear protection and release on his own stomach, then quickly get rid of it if he’s not dozing already.

He blushes hearing you talk dirty about semen, but the real thing? Chris isn’t obsessed like some other people would be. It’s a necessary evil to him, and just another thing bodies do. His orgasms tend to underwhelm him or disappoint no matter what he does, he’s not as confident pushing himself to a maximum of pleasure by himself. He depends a lot on you to chase a high sometimes, which makes him feel deficient. You notice that he beats himself up and suggest some more gentle femdom forms of sex that focus more on sensuality and less adrenaline. Works way better for him. Besides modeling harnesses like a pro, Chan is actually a die-hard soft sub.

On the other hand… Duality. Selfless Chan is totally focused on having you completely soaked at his very creative fingertips. Cum play 5000. He’s a musician. And producer. And dancer. And singer. And rapper. Safe to say that fella has rhythm.

And: Don’t worry. He’s not the type to edge and finger you recklessly. Chan isn’t brutal, nor is he punishing. Always the exact opposite. Pleasing, pleasing, pleasing. His submissive tendencies show almost everywhere. The most daring thing he’d do is tease you with a bright smile, which probably makes you wanna bust a nut on the same spot, ain’t it so. You Chan hard stan, you. He constantly asks for feedback and wants your own hands to do it with him so he can learn: That good boy. How that tiny spot of yours can make your whole body feel so electric is quite astounding to him. Getting you off and making you laugh? His favorite downtime.

d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Other people probably assume his ultimate kink and darkest fantasy would be something like `Chan being selfish and cruel for once´. Just doing something because he craves it. Or something like topping you for fun, large and in charge, leader mode. Little did they know that Chan’s most secret wish is you finally meeting his parents for an evening of barbecue. Ain’t he typical.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

More than you think, less than you assume. He’s a lovely Libra. The golden middle of everything is true for him. He’s not dared to directly approach any crush he had, but yes, always prompting a shy and nervous response, he’s the one who’s been approached quite a couple times. By a handful of dominants who saw right through him, too, yes. A bit of flirting over some dinner did went down, but only a dozen dates turned into some tentative, makeshift sexual activity at their place. Obviously not the dorm, he’d never do that. He’s not Hwang Hyunjin getting pegged — next to Lee Know, gaming — by every girl in a ten-mile radius.

Chan also received an Inkigayo sandwich and had a genuinely lovely time. It went on for two months until it got a bit awkward. All in good spirits, though. Because seriously. Caring as he is, and always with the other person’s well-being in mind, how could Chan ruin a breakup. If there is a split, the transition period to a new chapter will be seamless, not heartbreaking. A few tears will fall, the chest is heavy, but he’s not gonna engage in a war of roses and lose face. He does have complaints, but he’s no mean guy. Even when he has a reason to accuse an ex, he will swallow it. The shit he’s bottled up. Chan will feel burdened, down for quite some days, but focus on moving on properly when it’s possible.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

Undecided. Doesn’t want your head too far away nor too close. He’s afraid of accidents, hurting your face somehow, he’s a little paranoid. A bit of movement distance is good for soft missionary, it can be bridged by kissing. Chan uses his arms to prop himself up, gyrating so fucking heavenly, and you can grab his ass. All the praise you’ll shower him with. You’ll often be having sex in a back hug, that’s a good one, too. Especially seated, with Chan leaning forward a little to meet your spine with his chest. All you see is legs legs legs twitching under you, damn good view.

Girl on top, however, occupies both of your minds all the time. That’s where you feel at home. Comfortable for both of you, Chan can be more passive, you active. Your bed or couch needs lots of pillows, though, it’s too empty and scary for him otherwise. The floor is off limits, not cozy enough, you agree. You’re a cozy couple. Chan draped over a hard surface on his back, naked, is a sexy as fuck image in your head, but the reality is not snuggly and warm enough.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Total goofball, you love the guy’s sexy time humor. His crinkly eyes ad triangle-shaped dimples (yes they’re literally like that) always alleviate the moment and bridge an awkward silence or pause. Chan has a soft spot for your outrageous jokes, too. Your every word has him almost hanging by a thread so to speak, he’s a very active listener. Dirty talk and conversation absolutely dominate your sex life, silent sexy time is a natural, mutually agreed upon no-go.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Clean pits, clean everything. He’s pretty economical with it. Adapts to your wishes, puts lots of effort in. If it’s gotta be a hairy situation, the rules are even stricter, even if he sometimes forgets to maintain it, which makes Chan feel terribly sorry. „Won’t happen again! Oh geez.“ Uneven hairs piss him off, he’s the legend of trimming everything in place.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Can’t stay serious and focused for two seconds. Says a cheesy thing as soon as you even blink.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Too busy with his beautiful fingers between your labia to think about himself. As always: Chan gives and gives and gives without ever taking. When you’re driving to the gym and he takes the passenger seat, prepare for masturbation galore — all while he doesn’t touch himself one bit. You reward him with a little improvised frottage with his upright dick crushed against your ass later on the backseat. Both of you in your underwear: Because it’s hotter. Chan comes pretty fast, his cock is so sensitive to being squeezed by you. Turn around while you grind on him because his surprised facial expressions are just glorious. His tight body in his sports clothing feels so damn good, you can do this all day long.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

Feeding each other delicious sweets and random food bits. He’s totally enamored with this. You can be silly together, carefree, he can be your cutest little one. Not entirely in an age play sense, more as a casual endearment.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

So, besides the car and bed. His production studio chair is surprisingly not the way to go. Too narrow, moves around too much, spins at every damn movement. Studio couch is more like it. The amount of times you’ve made out on there, the members would so judge him for being thirsty. But you see the practical aspect. Increased support, decently elastic if not a little bouncy, and a comfortable surface that’s easy to clean for him. It’s not like Chan keeps typing and producing with you on his lap at the table. Come on, he focuses on you. When you sit next to him or on him casually to see what he’s working on, sure, he will go on as usual though. But it’s often him who wants to sit on your lap to get pampered, or between your legs non-sexually if he’s too heavy for you. At home, any spot will do, long as it has a pillow fort.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Affection and courtesy. Compared to some other members, say Felix, Chan doesn’t submit to try stuff out and to chase a kinky curiosity. The principle and chivalry counts for him instead. Being a domme pleaser and body worship advocate 5000 is what keeps Chan coming back for more. Stress relief is a side effect, pun intended.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Hard domming you. He has leader energy on stage, but privately, mercurial goofball he is, it just doesn’t suit him. Chan would never make you scream or sob, and he can’t use a whip on your ass either. That image is so strange to both of you. Although he matches the aesthetic of a hard dom when he’s dressed up like one, face chain wolf gang and all, actually doing all this stuff creeps him out. He recoils at the thought of smacking you roughly or doling out a harsh anal punishment. Raw and hateful sex is simply not his schtick. Again, he’s Hyunjin’s opposite on the submission scale: Mister Hwang is very open to being demolished in a crazy hate fuck by any dominant daring enough. That’s where smacking and violently punishing is very welcome. Chan, he prefers a forehead kiss to make him squeal.

Chan would be all shifty on his feed and be confused constantly if he had to dominate in a cold and relentless way. Being a soft dom is all he could muster, which would simply wind up him service subbing in a covert way — no one’s surprised. And the major obstacle is, Chan simply cannot switch off his charm. He just can’t. It’s in his tone of voice all the time. The only exception happens when he reprimands the members for not taking something seriously enough, but well — he doesn’t have to pull that voice on you. You know the stakes of this relationship and meet him with a logical mindset. You take topping him very seriously like a fucking pro, in fact. Chan got nothing on you, he thinks he’d look like an amateur.

If we’re going there at all: Chan can’t stand the whole kink of say, his girl age regressing to her toddler days, diapers and everything. He’d be like what… It’s too much for him, and his whole Stray Kids’ father role doesn’t have to be his entire identity. Chan appreciates a sexual slash romantic partner who is level-headed and talks to him on equal grounds. He doesn’t want someone tugging at his sleeve all the time talking in a baby voice, he prefers more mature flirting and interactions. He’s the one getting shy, his domme is the wise one. So: No infantilizing his girlfriend. They’re called Stray Kids and not Stray Adults, so he already fosters the whole group as a full-time job — back at home, he’s looking for an authority instead.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh shit, here they come. Those beautiful, pinkish, big and juicy lips. They’re wonderful and shapely, just right, so puckered. It’s the ace up his sleeve! You’ll grind the chapstick off of `em at every opportunity. He’ll quickly get fantastic at giving head, the eye contact is always a stunner. The lips are usually outclassing his tongue, though you should never underestimate someone who works a mic for a living.

His consistency… I swear. Completely deprioritizes receiving. He’s clumsy with eating you out in the first month of dating, hence why he wants to improve. Although it irks him that he’s not a natural talent, your comforting words will help him. „Not everyone can be born as Hwang Hyunjin.“ — „So true, bestie. Or Felix, too.“ He embraces his beginner mindset and hey, come on: That he tries so hard is worth ten sex toys, the effort and dedication counts. Like he can suck on a dildo in no time. Not ready for the strap yet, but that’s ok. His progress tends to be astounding, he remembers his mishaps and strengths very well. Nerdy Chan writes down what he should keep in mind, that’s a hell of a man right here.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Nothing subspace-inducing, we’re keeping it midrange speed here. Though, remember this guy is a literal sports student, athlete, multi talent. He can pull off anything you wish for, you just gotta ask. Nevertheless, he’s too sweet to go and say „let’s just fuck like rabbits, 3, 2, 1, go!“ — some other certain members are more fond of that. Lee Know, Hyunjin, Han, to name the holy trinity of dick destruction. They just wanna get wrecked. CBT and everything. Chan loves pleasure and passion more than ending up ruined, his workload does that for him.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yep. Pretty boy likes those. Big fan. Any day. Treats the two of you with cooking afterwards.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Sexually? Not at all. Besides a little fun and games (read: flirting and pillow fights), he’s beyond mellow. Bangchan is the last person on earth to demand that you amp up your dominatrix game to do something questionable. As in, to experiment with even more extreme practices, electro play, knife play, sounding, that stuff. Or to put on specific, highly sexualized outfits. Again, that would contradict your coziness at home.

He’s not a fan of pushing his dominant to their limit, or having a stake in their appearance whatsoever. You’re not there for his appetite, because he’s the snack. As is good practice, he coordinates a sexual scene together with you, and can make cute wink-wink suggestions: But they’re literally harmless. Such as, „maybe… tie my hands with a ribbon or something?“, and it’s all in an open-ended question format just like that. It’s up to you to allow it or not.

In other words: Bangchan’s inner power bottom is what? Non-existent. Which differs wildly from some other members. Han would totally beg you to slap the shit out of him just so he can experience a shock of adrenaline. Bratty Felix would tease his domme with his ass until she tames him with pinches, clamps, and squeezing. Chan would never even consider asking to be fucking wrestled. It’s 100% you who suggests kinks that carry more danger, like heavy chains with collars, or using a Sybian on him, although that’s not risky from a pro’s perspective. He takes the backseat and will most definitely not provoke any trouble or unsafe etiquette willingly.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He took ballet classes. All you need to know. Strength and tension and discipline are words not unfamiliar to him. His dick won’t last long, but the rest of his body will: Unless he danced like crazy that day. Which means time for spoiling and caressing him, talking him through, tucking him into bed. No hard domination please.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Bondage rope, yes. Red lights was right, he’s a rope bunny. Other particular toys no… with some room for experimenting sometimes. But he’s not a crazy toy collector, one quality vibrating aid to get you off is worth a 100 random items that he’d buys just to buy them. So, no to that. He’s particular and looks for what really fits the two of you. Strap-on experiments are fine, he quite likes to take it on all fours until one of you cramps. You’re not powering through, but that one’s a long and prep-heavy session. Blowing his back out is probably a bad idea, going slow and steady with lots of reassurance works way better.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

Chan’s ‚explanation voice‘ and constant questions can drag out foreplay for half an hour. By any means: The Chansplaining needs to find it’s due end. You get down to business by just unzipping his damn pants. A call to inspect your sexy sub is the perfect shortcut, admittedly just to see his thick package. „Take your cock out, honey. Let me take a good look at it.“ — instantly flustered Chan is putty in your hands.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

„Yes, mommy!“ — that’s medium loud. Can be more silent, too, but never not super breathy. Drastic spikes in volume, not so much. It’s a constant moaning. Though, I might be understating this, the whole group has a very high benchmark for volume. 80% of Stray Kids are fucking screamers.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Chan talks about how much he loves having sex with you all while he’s fast sleep constantly. Babbling in his dreams is not uncommon, the members seem to be on his mind a lot unsurprisingly, but this one stands out to you.

x = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

What he’s got in his sweatpants is like a Monsta X song. I don’t know what else to liken it to. Thing is, he’s not working with a whopping 10 inches. Who the hell carries that. He’s in a comfortable but aesthetically pleasing upper midrange, and really not too awkwardly long at all. It absolutely wouldn’t suit him. Girth and full balls is where it’s at. Also: Big ass alert. Your designated smack target and stress ball. You’re not surprised that Lino acts the way he does given how um cheeky the members are. Chan’s has such a nice curve, fuck.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s not Felix going „Lemme suck your tiddies real quick“ at every opportunity. Chan is more like „Okay, can I…?“ And he always ends up surprised how easily he gets going. It’s nothing when compared to his awkward jack-off sessions at work. You know what he’s capable of with one glance. Chan is a sensualist. Someone so sporty knows how to get their blood pumping. And: He’s channeled a fuck ton of his sexual energy into dance and his ten thousand other physical talents. You know precisely how to train him to get the desired results.

z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

You can use a damn stopwatch. He’s gone, ciao, bye, hasta luego, see you soon. In your arms, looking as angelic as ever. At the end of the day, Chan’s rapid deep sleep is pretty cute. This sub is a little innocent cherub. He’s in good hands with you.

read it on ao3

related posts: 

sub!idols m.list ♡

lee know alphabet version

sub!skz orgasm faces/bondage scenario 

sub!hyunjin oneshot | sub!felix oneshot

💕 likes, rbs, comments v much appreciated, let’s talk 💕

© 2017-2023 sugar-petals. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed. all depictions are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.

[madwomansapologist]

Hi! Wanted to say that your writing style is so nice and it feels so mushy when I read them. I'm truly amazed, where do you gen an inspiration to write?

Can I please request Morpheus x reader, who picks on their skin? I've always had this stupid habit and in result fingers (and sometimes face) are always in pain or bleeding. And usually you're not notice it until someone points it out for you and things become awkward. 💀 (Also I'm so sorry to bother if your requests are closed, I checked but maybe accidentally skipped it)

It's okay if this may be weird or specific and you don't want to do it, I'm still grateful for your writings. Have a nice day!

morpheus noticing your skin-picking habit would include

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Morpheus | AO3

synopsis: Restoring the long-forgotten library of Morpheus's realm, your last concern was what your hands were doing. Concentrated on reorganizing and looking for signs of lost dreams and nightmares, it was Morpheus who noticed a old habit of yours.

warnings: none.

ps: omg. you're literally the best. thank you for that! well mostly of my inspiration comes from things that i personally believe. you know that "write about what you know" advice? i prefer it worded as a "write about what you feel." like the last thing i wrote for Morpheus. it was a request about pregnancy, and I could just write about it, but it didn't really talked to me. but perceiving death and deciding that fuck that, the memories of my family will keep me alive—that talk to me. so mostly i guess is just that Neil Gaiman writing advice: don't be afraid of telling the truth. he said that all books are lies told by people that can put truth in them. i guess i live by that. sorry for the rant, but i'm so passionate about it. either way, hope you like this! my requests weren't close by the time you ask for it (sorry for the long wait, i was working on the birthday event), there is no need to apologize! have a great day, dear! 💙🪩

• The library wasn't going to restore itself. At least, you don't think it can. Doing whatever Lucienne told you to, it was only natural for you to focus on trying to make this realm reach its glory again. You didn't have time for anything else.

• Cain and Able were surprisely helpful with your task. The brothers may not be exactly healthy with one another, but they know a lot about this place you know so little. With their knowledge and ease of sharing it, you were closer and closer to finally find Brute and Glob.

• By the time you were back with Lucienne, you both had so much to do. It was so easy to forget about anything else. To have a break, to eat something, to sleep for a few hours. So many things to do, so much to repair, that all you could was to focus on your work. Not even an old habit of yours could have won your attention.

• You were picking on your skin. It always surprises you when you noticed, simply because you don't do this on purpose. It is just a thing that happens. Most of the times, you don't noticed until it starts to hurt or bleed. And this time, none of that happened.

• Dive into work, and with Lucienne also worrying about the realm, no one was really paying attention to your skin. Your hands picked and pushed, but with no great amount of pain to warn you about it, you just didn't noticed.

• You both heard when Morpheus entered the library. After one of his many quests to find his tools, it was a surprise that he would come back so early. Or was it late? You can't really tell how time works here.

• When you welcomed him, it took mere seconds for Morpheus' expression to change from tiredness to concern. He walked straight towards you, his hands grabbed your face with care and affection, and asked you what hurted you.

• You undertood quickly what happened. You explained to him, the awkward situation making you more and more embarrassed with every couple of words, feeling suddenly so out of place. But when Morpheus was sure that nothing had inflicted pain on you, his softness made impossible for you to remain embarrassed.

• Morpheus silenced you with sweet kisses. His lips roamed through your face, his feelings penetreting your skin. He kissed you whole before looking at you again. And the way he looked at you, the way Morpheus always look at you, made you feel so... so...

• Wide.

• In front of Morpheus, in between his hands, you feel infinite. Morpheus always finds a way to make you feel like that.

• Morpheus may not be the best person to pick on social clues, but he can read you. When you care about someone in the way he cares about you, it's easy to learn about the person of interest. Morpheus was able to understand that this habit was just another facade of you, and he would never made you feel bad about it.

• Of course Morpheus would pretty much rather you not hurting yourself in anyway, but he would never made you feel bad about it. If he ever notice you doing it again, Morpheus would just grab you hand and kiss it. It's not like being gentle with you was difficult.

• And if you ever pick your skin until it bleed, Morpheus have no problem with helping you to clean it. Morpheus can take care of you, just like you took care of him so many times before. He's just being fair.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[sillysickfics192]

blanket forts

Aiden was trying to fall asleep. But he couldn’t. He had just returned from the shadow realm for the night. Well not “just”. He had returned almost two hours ago, after seven hours in the other dimension. Ideally, he would come back from the shadow dimension and wake up to the beep of his alarm in the morning, sleeping through the night. However, this night, he woke up almost immediately after returning to his normal body. the whole two bodies thing was still confusing to aiden. He never really understood it, especially since he was not paying attention at all when it was being explained to him by Logan. He tried so hard to go back to sleep, but he was having a hard time. He was flooded with stress from the other dimension. They had to find a way out of this mess. And yet, they hadn’t. 

He lay awake for ten more minutes, before texting their group chat.

“anyone up?”

-

“anyone up?” Logan read, the glow of the screen hurting his eyes in the dark. 

“I am.” He texted back. Logan too could not sleep. even with how much he tried, it wasn’t working.

“come over” Aiden said. No question, just a statement, a demand maybe.  Logan thought about it. He was wearing a sleep shirt and comfy shorts, but he could go out in it. His parents had left him home alone, while they visited his grandparents in canada. Logan wished he could’ve gone, but he worried about leaving with the whole shadow dimension and phantom thing. So, he convinced his parents to let him stay, saying how he had tests at school and needed to study and he was old enough and blah blah blah, which his parents eventually gave in to and let him stay at home alone. He didn’t think it would be so bad, but he’s lonely. Aiden is home alone a lot as well, his parents always traveling. Aiden isn’t lonely anymore now that he has Ben, but Ben goes to bed really early every night, waking up early to make breakfast and go for a run. Atleast, that’s what Aiden thought he did, since he preferred to go to bed late and sleep in. So in the night, that familiar feeling of loneliness floods back.

-

Logan arrived at Aiden’s house, with only his phone in hand. Aiden answered the door, letting him into his nice house and leading him to the couch. They shared a look, acknowledging that it was two in the morning and neither of them had slept. Why? Probably for the same reason as well. Stress. They were both stressed by this whole thing. Afraid even. Although neither boy would admit it out loud, it was the truth, and they both knew. 

“Let’s watch a movie.” Aiden suggested, turning on the huge flat screen tv, sending aiden to fetch some blankets and pillows.

Logan came back with a whole bunch of blankets and pillows from the hall cabinet. 

“Woah, that’s enough for a fort. Say, that’s not a bad idea. Let’s make one and then watch our movie. Logan was excited by the idea, already beginning to plan out how to create a perfect fort.

Logan explained his fort strategy, which Aiden didn’t quite grasp.

“I don’t really get it.”

“It’s not really that hard.”

“Whatever nerd, just tell me what to do” Aiden teased.

Once their cleverly designed fort was built they tried to pick a movie.

“What kind of movie do we want to watch?”

“I don’t know, nothing scary.”

The old Aiden would’ve called him a chicken. But this Aiden doesn’t want to watch a scary movie. Every night is like a scary movie for them.

“Okay, well what’s a movie you watched as a kid that’s still good?”

“I can’t think of anything.”

“Have you heard of the Inbestigators?”

Logan shook his head.

“It came out on Netflix when we were like eleven. I haven’t really told anyone about this, but i still watch it sometimes, to relax. It’s about these little Australian kids who solve mysteries. Except on like “What happened to my purse? Or, I think these kids are cheating on a test!” And they all solve it. If you don’t want to watch I totally get it, it’s a kids show anyway.” Aiden braced himself to be made fun of.

“Sounds fun. Let’s give it a try.” Logan says, getting comfy in his spot in the fort.

The episode begins. They watch one, laughing at the stupid jokes that are obviously aimed at kids, but are still funny to the sleep deprived teens.

After the first two episodes, Logan comments, 

“Seems like that girl, what’s her name? mildred-“

“”-Maude.” Aiden corrects.

“Seems like she solves all the mysteries.”

“Yeah she kinda does. She’s the smart one in the group. Like you.”

Logan blushes at the compliment from a friend.

The next episode starts, and he shifts himself closer to Aiden, who wraps a comforting arm around the smaller boy. 

That’s how Ben finds them in the morning, the tv screen reading “Are you still watching?”, smiling at the boys friendly cuddling.

🫶

request from @livingponcho

[vsenyatargaryen]

High Tides ( 1 )

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon Female Reader

You’re the eldest daughter of Corlys and Rhaenys but your return to King's Landing is disrupted by your past.

warnings; mentions smut and murder, swearing, Daemon being himself

“Get up!”

Daemon groaned sleepily when he felt a kick against the sole of his foot again, this time with more force than the first. His stomach churned, having lost count of the amount of wine he’d drunk the night before. Gods, his head was throbbing and his mouth felt like it was full sand.

When he slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the light bleeding into the room from the window of the brothel, he was surprised to see you standing there.

Even though you were wearing a cloak and the clothes of a commoner as a disguise while you scowled down at him, it still made his pulse race.

“Oh, he lives,” you mocked.

A sleepy smirk crossed his face. “Hm, I must be dreaming.”

You scoffed, picking up the shirt that was lying on the floor and tossing it at him, “get dressed. We need to talk.”

The prince reluctantly sat up and pulled the nightshirt over his head, mind still a little hazy. If he were less hungover, he would have argued about even needing clothes on, especially around you - given your history together. All those late, long nights spent fucking in the bowels of a pleasure house, or wherever else you could hide out together.

You swore you could sometimes still remember how it felt - to be touched by him, to feel him inside of you, to be seduced and consumed by him. Right now, it feels like only a curse.

“You saw Aethan in the city yesterday,” you stated, trying to jog his memory, but it just made Daemon frown.

He vaguely remembers seeing your teenage son. That was before ending up in a tavern, then the pleasure house.

“It's a big place, ñuha riña [my lady]. I see a lot of people.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You told him how to get out of the keep unnoticed.”

Daemon sighed, running a hand over his face. That he did remember.

The boy was curious and had an eye for adventure. Aethan reminded Daemon of himself at that age. The Red Keep was dull at the best of times, he could hardly blame anyone for wanting to escape being stuck within those walls.

“He was bored,” he reasoned. “We didn’t stay locked inside when we were younger, why should he?”

“You told him you were his father,” you gritted out, glaring at him.

Oh.

“Did I?” Daemon managed to get up on his feet, leaning back against the wall to aid his balance, “As you can tell, I was drunk. I have little recollection.”

“You have an excuse for everything, don’t you?” You spat back, disgusted. You wished there was something, anything, nearby you could throw at his damn head. Preferably a sword you could just run through his skull.

Daemon smirked, a dark humour behind his eyes. “This isn’t just about Aethan. Say what you really want to,” he challenged.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, the memory of the night your Lord husband died still fresh in your mind. You remember that cloaked figure, the blood, the lifeless body he left in his wake. You remember Daemon. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you were just imagining things, you knew, deep down, Daemon had the ways and means to do such a deed.

“I saw you the night my husband died. You killed him.”

Daemon responded with an exaggerated eye roll, “You do not need to act so bereft. He was a useless cunt.”

“You fucking ruined everything!” Your voice rose as you approached him, prodding a finger at his chest, “ I’m without a husband or a home and Aethan now thinks he is your son!”

Daemon grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer until your chest was pressed up against his, abruptly reminding you just who had the upper hand in this situation. Reminding you he wasn’t someone to anger. He had the blood of the dragon. But so did you.

“I may have been drunk when I saw him, but it was the truth. I know he is my son and you kept him from me all these years,” he hissed, his grip harsh as he glared back at you.

In all the years you’d known him, you’d never seen this kind of fire behind his eyes. You were sure it wasn’t just because he’d missed out on the fatherly duties of having Aethan in his life.

“You wonder why I kept him from you all this time? Just look at the example you set for him,” you scoffed, unable to hold yourself back. “Whoring, murdering and drinking your way through Westeros. Skoros kessa ziry inherit hen ao, dārilaros?” [what will he inherit from you, prince?]

With a grunt, Daemon moved his hand to your jaw, gripping you tightly as he seethed, “Nyke could emagon aōha ēngos syt bona.” [I could have your tongue for that]

“Do it,” you managed to grit out just audibly enough.

Daemon bit his lip and loosened his hold on you, giving you just enough leeway to step back from him, glaring daggers.

“Take my tongue if you wish. It will finally give my father a reason to kill you.”

He simply smirked at the threat. “Corlys respects me. We are both second sons and I helped defeat the Triarchy,” he reminded you, making you roll your eyes.

“I’m sure if I proposed the offer of marriage between you and I, he’d be thrilled,” the prince added. “As would Viserys.”

You shook your head with a scoff. “You’re clearly still drunk.”

“Not that drunk.”

“This isn’t one of your twisted games! You cannot just propose on some whim, Daemon,” you snapped.

“You said it yourself, you’re unwed, as am I. You and Aethan need a home. As my son, his place is at Dragonstone with me.”

“His place is with me. I’m done wasting my breath on you.”

You turned to leave, hearing Daemon’s voice call out as you walked out of the door,

“You’ll change your mind, ñuha riña!”

[that-one-anxious-mango]

I seen your ask/prompt message!

I gotchu girl!

My ask is how many nicknames do reader and austin have for each other?!

They're so cute! I love themmmm!

Summary: Austin puts in a rather odd request that leads to a cute exchange of information.

* This installment directly follows the events after Special*

Contents: LOTS OF FLUFF. Little tension. My two favorite goofballs being adorable.

A/N: Hi Anon! I hope you’re well! Thank you so much for the ask. I adore them too 🫠✨I hope you like this!

P.S Feel free to always comment, reblog, and send me a ask/letter!

———

Once the two of you were inside you greeted a happy Magnus who wagged and snorted at the sight of his two favorite humans.

Tossing your gear to the side you made your way to the kitchen to grab all of the needed ingredients to make your killer three cheese blend grilled cheese for the both of you.

You had finished it up pretty quickly while Austin was in the living room picking his choice of movie.

Turned out he wanted to watch the nineteen ninety nine version of Romeo and Juliet, which also happened to be the version BAZ directed.

“ A throwback. I remember when this came out. My sister and her friends went to go see it in theaters. My mom took them.” He recalled as you set the plates of grilled cheese and chips on the coffee table.

“ Thank you, baby. “ Austin pressed a kiss to the temple when you finally sat down.

You mumbled a quick “ You’re welcome.” Before snuggling up into his chest just enough so you both could still comfortably devour your food.

It wasn’t until you’d gotten to the part of Mercuatio’s long and terribly drawn out death scene that Austin was the first to speak.

“ Hey.” He spoke.

“ Hmm?” You sleepily hummed.

“ This may sound weird….” He started, “ But I didn’t like the way you said my name earlier. And I’m putting in the request for you to actually never say it ever again.” He finished pushing his face into your neck.

Your eyebrows rose and a giggle escaped you, “ Why? That’s your name. Admittedly, I know that it may have come off harsh that time when I said it. I’m sorry. But I like your name, Austin. And I like saying it....and moaning it.” You coyly squeezed in the last part that made him give a toothy smile.

“ Yeah it was and you only do that when I’m in trouble or you’re annoyed. Always sounds sharp when you say it. Doesn’t sound all warm and sweet like when you call me my other names.”

“ Your other names?. Like what? What other names do you have? “ Your laughter coated in curiosity.

Austin’s cheeks began turning a rosy color and his lips upturned at the corners,

“ You know. I’m Aus, babe, or baby, honey-dew, sometimes I’m poppa, I've been called Aussie poo on occasion, Sweet Baboo is pretty standard, Mr. Handsome," He began while you listened in fascination.

"Oh! I’m plant-bae , Sexy Sam, Sir peanut butter, or your most recent favorite…I’m your googly bear.” He listed off all the ridiculous pet names you’d come up with over the last couple months, and it may you smile and laugh so hard.

Truth be told you didn’t know you’d given him that many, but it was too adorable seeing him blush while talking about it.

You could tell he liked them.

“ I see. And out of all of these names.” You added on, “ Which one is your preference to be called? “

“ Hmm.” He thought for a second and then pulled a name, “ I dunno’. I guess I just really like it when you call me, babe.” He confessed. " Basic I know. But it sounds good to me the way it rolls so easily off your tongue. You say it with this feeling of real endearment behind it.” He added, “ I love that.”

“ Awe, BABE.” You goofed grabbing his face and leaned up to plant a fat giggly kiss on his cheek.

“ What about me? What are your nicknames for me?

“ Let’s see. Well, first and foremost you know you're baby. You’re babe too. You’re my sugar mama, sweetheart, sweet thighs.” He said reaching his hand to give your partially exposed thighs a squeeze. You instantly felt tingles.

“ You’re also my baby-girl, honey, madame peach, the wiggly monster, lady jelly, light of my life, my schmoopsie-poo. “ He tickled your sides.

“ But above all else, you're my best girl.” He finished by leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips.

Heat pooled to your cheeks, “ Really?! I’m your best girl.” You coyly teased.

Austin smiled, “ Really. You’re my best girl. You’ll always be my best girl. You know that.” He leaned his face to hover by yours.

“ You sure? No one else? Just me? “ Even though when you asked you were still teasing, you secretly knew that part of you wasn’t.

Though you knew Austin’s nature and morals made you positive he wouldn’t allow himself to step out on you and break your heart that way. You still couldn’t shake the feeling sometimes that he could go out and find someone more appealing or better suited for him. That he was too good for you.

As if he could hear the gears turning in your mind he leaned down and placed a long sweet and semi- sloppy kiss to your lips. You had to contain yourself a bit when you felt his hand come to rest at the back of your neck and his thumb rub there.

In return yours traveled to his hips to pull him closer to you.

You felt him slightly groan and then pull away from you so that your faces were mere inches away from each other. “ No else. Just you. Repeat it.” He added a edge to the tone of his voice.

“ Say it baby. Tell me.” He encouraged.

You had to find the air to come in your lungs so you could speak, “ No else.” You breathed, “ Just me.”

He smiled rubbing your cheek, “ That’s right. Only you.“

[donnerpartyofone]

I saw this post a few weeks ago that was like a chart from a psychology text that described how different sorts of childhood trauma can produce different dysfunctions, one of which was (I *think*) Emotional Neglect -> Magical Thinking. I was so intrigued by that. Magical thinking is sort of an umbrella term for the belief in a causal relationship between two unrelated factors; it can include wishing on a birthday cake candle; the feeling that The Universe is telling you to call your ex because something reminded you of them; OCD-type rituals that you believe will ward off misfortune; the deeper meanings mis-assigned to mundane events that can be produced by schizo-affective disorders; and also religious convictions to some degree, although those are rarely considered a clinical problem as with anything that helps or doesn't seem to hurt the participants. There seem to be as many potential causes of magical thinking as there are forms of the thought pattern itself, and trauma is an interesting one.

It might be better to think of "trauma" as "helplessness" here. Magical thinking can help impose a feeling of organization where there is chaos and loss of any sense of significance. There was a lot of magical thinking going around in the gritty, depressed town where I'm from, and I often thought it was because of the persistent economic pressure. It's relatively normal for kids to be susceptible to spooky ideas, but many of the adults were also full of ghost stories and superstitions. I have one very sensible friend who is smarter than I am, who grew up there too, and we often reflect on this, which helps me know that this isn't strictly an idea I have due to my own social choices. My friend doesn't live in that town anymore either, but she's always digging up interesting stuff related to it, and one day she showed me the website of someone there offering his services as a paranormal investigator. He was in his 20s, and the site included a lot of unconvincing photos and a long, vigorous testimonial by the guy's mom. Part of me was dying to put it on tumblr, but it would only have resulted in unnecessary cruelty. I was as much a victim of magical thinking as anybody, and I think even when I was pretty young I was aware of what motivated me to be so naive and gullible: that a world full of ghosts and vampires and UFOs and such was preferable to what I normally experienced, which was a consistent sense of boredom and meaninglessness and drudgery and embarrassment and pain and suffocation in an ugly, flavorless universe whose nicer side was not going to be available to me. I had a lot of really damaging friendships with manipulative assholes and pathological liars because I was so very willing to believe the crazy things they told me, just in case any of them were true, because such a truth could change my whole life.

Sometimes I think it's amazing that I never wound up in a cult, although I guess those relationships were sort of like little one- or two-person cults. Once in a while I read about some crime involving young people who think they're vampires or something, and I have a deep feeling of pity, because I think I know what they were going through (except for the part where they think they can do whatever they want to other people). The sad story of Shanda Sharer involves a whole group of badly abused and underprivileged teens, some of whom thought they were witches or vampires, and it just makes so much sense to me that they would be overtaken by these fantasies of secret meaning and power. Recently I watched Bad Vegan on Netflix, something that I avoided at first because I thought it was just about rich douchebags humiliating each other--which is like, what else is new--and to some degree it is, but actually it's way more disturbing than that. Ambitious young raw food entrepreneur Sarma Melngailis was manipulated, isolated, and ultimately kidnapped by this sadistic freak who preyed first on her loneliness and financial fears by pretending to be a rich suitor who could solve all of her problems; then he preyed upon her feelings of personal insignificance and failure by convincing her that he and she had been selected by a cabal of extraterrestrial illuminati who would make them immortal. Sarma seemed completely broken down to me, and I was amazed by her courage in describing the scam she fell for, that she must have known would invite derision. Part of the documentary explores her youth as a kid who always believed she could become something special, and then mundane tragedies like her parents' divorce brought her back down to earth in a painful way, and it seemed like she spent the rest of her life haunted by the idea that she might just be an ordinary failure of a person. I think that's part of what made her so vulnerable to this psychopath, that he was able to access her secret dream of having a special destiny. I got one of my friends to watch the show and she was very frustrated by it because she just couldn't figure out what Sarma's problem was that would cause her to ever believe the things she was told. I tried to reiterate what I've said here, but it didn't seem to mean anything. Ironically this friend is a practicing witch with formal beliefs in the supernatural, including that people can awaken special powers within themselves, but I guess one man's magical thinking is just um not another man's magical thinking.

I still have a lot of magical thinking going, but it doesn't have the same character it once did. I tend to think of it more as "symbolic thinking"; I have a hard time accessing senses of meaning and hope, let alone any kind of self-belief, and sometimes symbolic gestures and concepts can provide that access better than my own direct, practical attempts ever could. It helps that I have a basic agnosticism about the invisible structures of the world, like it's easy for me to believe that there is more to life than what comes in through the five senses, even if I don't pretend to know entirely what that "more" is. That may help me believe that "anything is possible" and I shouldn't give up, even if I direly want to and I know I'm being kind of irrational. Magical thinking can be a double-edged sword, but maybe it's better than nothing.

[marvelousbuckley]

More love letters!

@Three_Sun on AO3 shared a new word for my love letters serie! It inspired me so I wrote it on my phone before going to sleep.

The word is: Sun-kissed.

Hope you'll like it!

You can find it on AO3 or after this!

-----

My dear Evan, 

You were in my dream last night.

I don't dream a lot, and when I do it is weird dreams with no logic or meaning. I do have nightmares though. Memories that come and go, ghosts of my past who come say hello when I am asleep. Some of them are terrifying, others are just cruel, my mind playing a sick game with itself.

It is true what they say about war, it kills even when you stay alive. I will forever remember the smell of gun powder and the heaviness of my riffle. What I don't remember is the voice of the men I lost. It kept me up at night for a while. Now it is nothing more than another sad truth about me. 

But last night I dreamt about you. About us really. We were on a beach. I don't know where it was but the sand was a bright white and the ocean was calm. I remember the warmth I felt in my sleep, it seems like it is still on my skin. 

You were reading some book about aliens and you had high heels at your feet. You were giggling while I was looking at you. The sea was quiet, and no birds were singing. I remember hearing music, some song that said "And if I grow old well I know I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you" which I'm pretty sure is from the show Lucy made me watch a while ago. She told me about you. It seems that you do know how to make an impression. She likes you, and I like her enough to trust her jugement, especially about men. 

But the thing that I can't stop thinking about, the image that's still haunt me, is your skin. Your face sun-kissed, a gorgeous color making your eyes prettier if it is possible. Every muscle, every shape of you highlighted by your tan. 

Do you like the sun Evan? Do you like when it comes and caress your skin? Are you afraid of its bite? Do you prefer the darkness of the night? So many questions I want to ask you, so many things I want to learn about you. Will you let me? I am afraid sometimes that I am asking too much of you. 

I wish to see you asleep on the fine sand of a heavenly beach someday. 

Sweet dreams, 

Tommy

[dhvlee]

okay hear me out, yn and chenle are bsfs so they joke around a lot, until chenle realizes his feelings for yn and can't act normal around her cuz he gets easily flustered

hidden feelings, endless laughter ↠ chenle

i’m not sure if that’s what you wanted but i hope you like it anyway<3

masterlist

pairing: chenle x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warning: best friends to lovers

“i really think jo and laurie are better as platonic soulmates than as romantic soulmates so i’m kinda happy she rejected him,” you said when you and chenle finished watching little women. “and you? what do you think?”

“hate to say it but i have to agree with you. laurie and amy are better in my opinion.”

chenle invited you to his home right after his promotions for nct dream’s newest album istj for today ended. you happily agreed to it because it's been a while since you saw him and you missed your best friend.

“and what about us? do you think we’re better as platonic or romantic soulmates?”

hearing your words chenle choked on the water he was drinking. “what? y/n, what are you talking about right now?”

you laughed at his reaction as chenle looked at you confused. “chill dude, i was just kidding. there’s no reason to choke on water and die because of something like that. woah, what would i say to your boyfriends?”

“my boyfriends?” he repeated, holding his hand to his throat, which now ached a little.

“yeah,” you reached for the chips that were on the table. “your members, they’d get so mad at me if you died because of me.”

“yo chenle, focus!” mark said as chenle got the choreography steps wrong again. “you okay? even though you're here with us, it doesn't look like that.”

the truth is that for some reason chenle couldn't get your question out of his head. he kept thinking back to last night when you asked him jokingly if you two would be better as platonic or romantic soulmates.

“i’m sorry.”

“what’s on your mind?” haechan asked as he reached for his bottle of water.

“i don’t know, i’m just so confused,” he sat down, leaning against the mirror.

“why?” jisung sat next to him.

“i don’t know. i mean, i was hanging out with y/n last night and we were watching a movie and at some point she jokingly asked me if we would be better as platonic or romantic soulmates and for some reason i can’t stop thinking about it and i really don’t know why, it’s just stuck in my head.”

“oh you’re dumb,” jeno said, taking a bite of his dark chocolate.

“what? why?”

“because it’s obvious you like her but you’re too dumb to realize it,” chenle gave renjun a look as he was called stupid again. “oh don’t look at me like that. i’m hungry, let’s go eat something downstairs.”

all the boys agreed, but chenle preferred to stay in the practice room. he started to think about what renjun had told him.

he began to remember every moment he spent with you and how sometimes you made his heart beat faster. he remembered every time he'd been jealous because you and hyuck had flirted with each other for fun. he also remembered how much he loved your laugh and how sometimes he could look at the pictures you sent him for a long time. he also remembered how angry he was at your ex when he broke your heart and you cried in his arms for hours, wetting his sweatshirt with your tears.

and these thoughts made him sick.

“now, why are you avoiding me?” you said as you were standing in the dreamies living room after you asked renjun where chenle was and why he was avoiding you.

“i’m definitely not avoiding you.”

“oh, you’re not? then why are you leaving me on seen and hang up when i call you? oh and yesterday you literally ran away when you saw me in the grocery shop! so in your opinion you’re not avoiding me?”

“yeah, i’m not,” he said, nervously avoiding eye contact with you.

“you can’t even look into my eyes, you’re avoiding eye contact with me. did i do something wrong?”

“what?” he quickly looked at you. “of course you didn’t do anything wrong, why do you think so?”

“huh? why do i think so? are you actually dumb?” you asked in disbelief. literally a few seconds ago you gave him a few reasons why you have the right to think that.

“he is dumb, you’re right!” jaemin, who was sitting on the couch playing games on his phone, looked up from the screen and looked at you and chenle. “we’ve already told him twice that he is.”

“look, i’m sorry,” chenle said after he sent jaemin a death stare. “well i can tell you what’s going on but i don’t wanna do it here when jaemin is clearly listening.”

“go to my room then, i’m not leaving that comfortable couch.”

chenle rolled his eyes and got up from his chair. he grabbed your hand and quickly led you to the older boy's room, then closed the door behind him.

you sat on jaemin's bed and waited for what your best friend would say about why he had been avoiding you for the past few days.

“look,” he sighed. “i know avoiding and ignoring you wasn't a good idea, so i’m sorry. but a few days ago I realized something and I never in my life thought something like this would happen to me so I thought if I avoided you it would make everything disappear. but-” chenle sighed again and sat down next to you. “but i was wrong, nothing disappeared and i probably disappointed you and made you feel bad, so i’m really sorry.”

“okay, i still don’t know what the hell you’re talking about but i promise you that you didn’t disappoint me. yeah, i didn’t feel great when you avoided me but that’s okay. but please, tell me what you’re talking about because i’m really confused,” you looked into his eyes and saw him biting his lip. he was clearly nervous.

“i- well, do you remember when we watched little women?” you nodded so he continued. “okay so after it ended you asked me jokingly if we’d be better as platonic or romantic soulmates and i really kept thinking about it the next day and i couldn’t understand why. so i told the boys about it and they told me something. and then i remembered some things and that made me realized one thing and these thoughts really made me feel sick.”

“so, what did you realize? i’m sorry, i’m really trying to understand you but i’m confused.” you said feeling a little bad because you could see that chenle had trouble expressing his feelings at that moment.

“you don’t need to apologize. well, the thing i realized… i’m genuinely so sorry if because of that you wouldn’t want to be my friend but i also understand it. but the thing i realized was that i fell in love with you. i know that it’s stupid and i understand if you don’t feel the same so i’m so-” you silenced him with a kiss, which definitely surprised him as he didn't move for a few seconds. however, he quickly pulled himself together and returned your kiss, placing his hand on your cheek.

after a few moments, you pulled away from each other and you both laughed as you saw the blush on each other's faces.

“chenle, i also like you,” he smiled softly and this time he leaned in to kiss you.

[butchpeace]

Hi, I have a genuine question/confusion about the definition of lesbian in a lot of radfem spaces. Context: I am a lesbian, have always and exclusively been attracted to women and been aware of that since my early teens. And I'm sometimes attracted to post transition trans women. What I am attracted to is people who, to me, look like women, smell like women, feel like women etc. (this absolutely includes gnc women btw!)

So I have trouble understanding this concept of same sex attracted that excludes trans women - is your attraction really based on whether or not someone has a vagina? Or even whether they have xx chromosomes? How do you know? This is not meant to be an attack, just genuine confusion and occasional hurt feelings when I feel excluded as a lesbian when that's very clearly what i am.

For all of human history until very recently, “lesbian” meant same-sex-attracted female. 

We’re not the ones who are trying to redefine lesbian in some new way. We’re just sticking to our guns. They’re the ones trying to spoon-feed us a new definition.

Their definition says that sexual orientation isn’t based on the biological sex of the person, but on how masculine or feminine they are, and how they feel about themselves in their heads. 

Bullshit. Yes, we like vaginas. We know because that’s the kind of sex we enjoy or fantasize about. We like people who have XX chromosomes. We know because despite popular opinion, chromosomes do (in most cases) control whether your body develops to be biologically female or male. We can be attracted to both typically feminine and very masculine women, depending on preference. Therefore, the core of homosexual orientation is that we are attracted to females. Not to femininity. Not to whoever thinks of themselves as a woman. 

Is there a small minority of post-op mtfs who are truly indistinguishable from female-born women? Maybe. At least on the surface. You could think of these rare people, usually child transitioners, as a similar category to women with DSDs, in which case being attracted to one doesn’t make you not really a lesbian. 

But 99.9% of mtfs are obviously male. It’s not hate speech to say that we’re not attracted to males just because they’ve put on women’s clothes and grown some breast tissue. We don’t deserve to be called names, harassed, threatened, or told to “unlearn our problematic biases" just because we’re telling the truth about who we actually want in our beds. 

What they’re really saying to us when they try to redefine our sexual orientation is that women don’t know what we want. That lesbians don’t deserve the respect that other people are automatically given. That we don’t get to define for ourselves who we are. That we don’t know ourselves as well as they know us. That’s homophobic and misogynist. 

So what we’re defending isn’t just a definition. What we’re defending is women’s right to respect and safety. We’re defending our right to be openly and exclusively same-sex attracted.

[galactic-rhea]

7 with Anakin padme??? Also your art is my favourite thing on Tumblr rn, pls never stop :D

7- Is there a piece of clothing you think [character] is particularly fond of/that you imagine them wearing a lot or like to draw them in?

Ahhh that's a hard one!

So, for drawing:

Padmé has soooo many many outfits that I'm nowhere close to have drawn the half yet! I'm not sure what's my favourite. Although, for quickness sake, I tend to draw her with the blue dress and her hair loose (like her ROTS style)

Anakin is,,hmm, i little harder to say because sometimes I can't tell if i like to draw him in what's actually easier to me (lol) or if is because I actually like more the outfit. Truth be told I tend to prefer his Clone Wars look, it fits him really well (which is ironic because at the start i liked more the jedi look from Rots)

Now for " a piece of clothing you think [character] is particularly fond of/that you imagine them wearing a lot ",

I headcanon Anakin's looks are, like, 50% ruled by what Padmé likes (while remaining on the jedi style) and 50% "I want to look as different from Tatooine's style as I can" , so! He will always be wearing black cuz is not something you would wear on Tatooine, the way he wears his hair, are probably Padmé's ideas :P

Now for Padmé, she constantly changes her outfits, but I think she's always wearing the japor Anakin gave her :'))))

Also thank you so much! I'm glad you like my art 😭😭😭💗