#white distressed brick siding

[seabreezebazaar]

Traditional Porch - Side Yard An elegant brick side porch in the middle of the frame with an added roof.

[bubzywubzy]

Traditional Exterior

Inspiration for a large timeless beige two-story brick house exterior remodel with a hip roof and a shingle roof

[fannibalmusical]

Houston Natural Stone Pavers

Ideas for a traditional, mid-sized front yard with stone landscaping in the spring sun.

[iseestarsnation]

Dining Room in Miami

[marysdigdiaries101]

NEW INTERESTS

summary: as business woman barbie, you had to be quite serious and uptight about your field of work. so when you couldn't make it sleepover night, which wasn't unexpected of course ꒰but nevertheless꒱ , stereotypical barbie comes to check up on you.

warning/s: top! barbie, bottom! reader, no smut, but it's implied, fluff/comfort, tired reader, talk of depression, swearing, not proofread, pretend they have genitals btw.

word count: forgot to check lmao

authors note: hi hi hii ! first post omg? i just watched the new barbie movie and..im fucking obsessed, i swear i missed half the movies dialogue tho cause i was admiring margot's gorgeous face. anyway i thought what if we had a super stressed, borderline depressed barbie who just needed a break from her thoughts ? enjoy pookies ! ୨♡୧

+ btw men dni.

navigation ! | ୨♡୧

the wheels of your pastel pink car came to a stop in your driveway as you sluggishly dragged yourself out of the drivers seat. another long day, another girls night you couldn't deal with. bright lights illuminated the moving bodies on the vast dance floor, pointed stilettos tapping and turning swiftly as stiff hands clapped and clicked to the music.

clutching your purse, you moved across the dance floor, avoiding flapping arms and desperate kens in need of a dance partner. as you got to the last section of your mission, you felt a pair of eyes on you, a pair of eyes that were too familiar for you to shake off. looking over to your far left you found a set ocean blue eyes staring right back at you. the one and only stereotypical barbie. the perfect one, the main bitch of barbieland acknowledging your presence.

conversations between the two of you were very scarce. with you having a very busy work life and her having none at all, you never crossed paths that much. but living right across from her was a given, so conversations at times were necessary.

brushing off the nervous feeling that had crept up on you, you silently scolded yourself for the rosy blush that had quickly painted your cheeks. once again, clutching your purse tighter, you resumed your journey to your apartment in the lively dreamhouse.

the scratched door creaked open as you released your grip on the plastic doorknob. in any other room you can pretty much expect bright pinks and yellows and lovely colors..but not yours. in fact it wasn't the case at all.

black scribble lines all over formerly hot pink walls, torn up grey bed sheets, deflated pillows, a bedside rug that was once a lovely shade of baby blue now a murky lake green, and scratches, whoever was messing with this room had a no sense for care, as this room, this room was desecrated with scratches and marks.

sighing, you flopped unto the creaky mattress, the back of your knees hitting the plastic bed structure. reaching over to your achy feet, you pulled off the black heels that had been causing you anguish the whole day.

dropping your heels, you unzipped your pale pink silk dress, one of the very rare bright pieces of clothing you had left. flinging it over to the other side of the room, you tapped over to your closet, the once shiny, luxurious white structure, scribbled on and vandalised; stripped of its pride. you looked through the distressed drawer that had been left open from the mornings' rush. music flooded into the silence of your room as picked out navy blue pyjama bottoms and a tight fitted white tank top.

as if by magic (no pun intended) , your desired clothing adorned your slim body as you strolled over to your bed, plopping yourself on it and sinking into the mattress.

thoughts clouded your mind like a raging storm, keeping you a prisoner of your own mind. weird barbie said this would happen a lot more so it shouldn't have been unexpected. but it still hit you like a brick every time the thought of stereotypical barbie flooded your head. her plump lips, the crystal blue eyes that locked you in a trance at the slightest glance and her hair, oh god her hair. you just wanted to run your fingers through the golden curls. you wanted to tangle your fingers in it, you wanted to ruin it, you hated how perfect it was.

you hated her. you hated how ken adored her, how everyone was so goddamn drawn to her, it was like the town revolved around her jobless ass. you wanted her. you needed her. you needed her to need you. but you had your ken and she had hers, and that was that.

the last person who uttered a word about a barbie and a barbie or a ken and a ken was weird barbie and look how she turned out. it's not like you weren't weird yourself, with your heels dropping, thoughts about death, uncanny interests in barbie , your burnt waffles and messed up room and messed up clothes, you were borderline line outcast. you just hadn't been sent to the weird house yet.

'it's only a matter of time though'. you thought shutting your eyes. the late nights and early mornings catching up to you.

it only seemed like a few minutes before you felt the opposite side of your bed sink and a warm hand on your icy shoulder. shrieking, you leaped into an upright position, very nearly hitting your head on your heart shaped headboard.

"jesus! what the hell.." you came to an abrupt stop as you looked over to your side meeting a very dear set of eyes. "look, i'm sorry for barging in so randomly, i know you were sleeping and you're a very busy woman and-" the words mushed together in your head as you focused on her pouty lips. you would let her talk for hours on end if it meant seeing those lips move.

"it's okay." you stated, the corners of your lips turning up. "really? i mean i could leave honestly! it's no biggie..i mean if you want me stay i could?" the icy blonde rambled meeting your gaze softly. "i promise your fine." you assured her shuffling a bit, suddenly feeling very naked.

"so why are you here?" you questioned, sinking back into the comfort of your duvet. dropping your gaze, she fiddled with her velvet night gown, undoing the strings and redoing them. "..well i don't know, you looked more down than usual and you at least make it to the nail painting sessions in my room, but today you missed the whole night altogether." barbie confessed, searching your y/e/c eyes for reasons.

"i know, but-" "you promised." she stated, cutting your flimsy excuse short. "i'm sorry. i've just- i've had some things on my mind as of recent." you explained, your eyes looking at barbies' room across from yours.

“ what type of thoughts?” you raised your eyebrow at her answering her question silently. “right. too far… sorry.” she blushed, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears. an uncomfortable silence filled the room as barbie crossed her legs, moving dangerously close to you.

clearing your throat, you glanced at her figure, letting the image cloud your senses. the curve of her hips to the sharp cut of her jawline, she really was the perfect barbie.

“i have thoughts about death too.” barbie whispered. you didn’t reply so she continued “all the time actually. they’re more frequent than they used to be. i thought maybe someone felt the same way as me so i shared it during the dance party downstairs, but, they just looked at me like i was.. weird.”

your heart rate tripled as you gazed up at her. she looked so.. vulnerable. all this time you had thought you were alone in this paradise. you thought of yourself as the elephant in the room. but there was a chance that the one person you thought was perfect, was just as fucked up as you.

“i’m so sorry, i’m gonna leave now-” “stay.” you muttered connecting your eyes with hers. “what?” the blonde asked, a bewildered look on her face. “i think about death too. maybe we have more in common than we thought.” you explained, running your fingers through your y/h/c haphazardly layered hair.

grinning immediately barbie sat back down, babbling instantly. and you did what anyone would do if they were in that same situation, you stared at her with hearts in your eyes, smiling broadly.

only mattel knew how you ended up sprawled across your bed with barbie straddling your lap, braiding chunks of your hair. who knew depressive thoughts could bond two dolls like this?

“your eyes are so pretty.” you murmured gazing up into her ocean blues. blushing she retorted : “oh shut up.” , but you could tell from her scarlet cheeks and darting eyes that she appreciated the compliment.

“can i kiss you?” you blurted, not being able to hold yourself back. barbie stared at you, her eyes glistening. preparing yourself for rejection you opened your mouth only to have it shut by pillowy lips.

stars behind your eyelids, in fact a whole constellation. gliding your fingers up the small of her back, you reciprocated the kiss as she cupped your face softly. biting your bottom lip, she explored your mouth slowly. sucking on your tongue, she extracted a well deserved moan out of you.

“fuck y/n” she groaned, grinding on you. moaning desperately, you fervently moved your hands around her body as she pulled away. breathing heavily you both stared at each other lovingly. “the others will hear..” she commented, returning to fiddling with your hair. agreeing, you smirked as she looked at your lips.

“i better go then. i don’t want you tired tomorrow, busy work life and all.” the blonde remarked as she slowly stood up. “mhm” you retorted, as you let your eyes wander all over her body.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, sleep well okay?” she stated, looking over at you as she got to the door. “i will.” you grinned, snuggling into your comforter. and at that she giggled as she closed your door, the echo of her voice promising you of better days. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🩰 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

[euphoricfilter]

im in LOVE w your yandere ddlg fics… can i request one w namjoon? 🫣🫣 i feel like he fits the ddlg concept so well ugh

𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦:

pairing: yandere! namjoon x f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || established relationship au ||

summary: if namjoon’s life were a book, he thinks the day his eyes set on you, it had been the start of a fairytale. where he is the prince, and you, his princess.

word count: 5.5k

tags/ warnings: disgusting amounts of fluff, buff bf namjoon, reader is definitely an ipad baby, she’s also very very spoiled, and very very shy, ddlg themes, non-sexual dom joon, descriptions of murder, a few references to literature, smut in the forms of: unprotected sex (this is fiction, don’t be stupid), dom! namjoon, sub! reader, he’s girthy, size kink, cockwarming, belly bulge, dick riding, female masturbation, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of praise, and she’s a bit of a pillow princess, aftercare

notes: i agree!! he fits this concept so well!! and thank you for reading my other works babes! and here i present my last post of 2022! if there are mistakes, no there aren’t you didn’t see anything

request rules can be found here || my masterlist

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

You were Namjoon’s fairytale dream. A distressed princess locked in the wicked witch’s tower— that was this corrupt world that the two of you lived in.

Him, your knight in shining armour, sweeping you off your feet and dressing you in pretty dresses and jewels just like a true princess.

Truthfully Namjoon liked the classics better, words articulated like poetry and feelings forever carved into paper with ink. Little pieces of each author weaved into each book they’d ever written, secrets between pages and fantasies hidden behind flowery words. Hours upon hours of knowledge stacked up in Namjoon’s mind, useless little things that no one had ever cared to ask him about.

Perhaps romance novels were his guilty pleasure. That sickly feeling you get, reading about two people so in love that you have to sit back and realise that your own life is nothing more than a slow burn. Where truly, you’re the side character that is left and forgotten, watching the people around you— the main cast of the story, fall in love and find their god-awful happiness that you can only dream of.

You see, Namjoon had learnt how patience was a virtue. He’d waited year and years for that love story, for the perfect, pure, unadulterated adoration for another human, like in all those romance novels.

Countless flings and unexplainable anger from all the women who had shattered his heart over and over again had led him to you. Had steered him towards the right path. Perhaps like the yellow brick road, him being Dorothy and you, Emerald City. His final destination.

You’d always been awfully shy. Something Namjoon completely adored about you. Something he knew you were a little insecure about; among other things.

His remedy to your doubt, fucking you until all you knew was his and your names. Fucked so dumb you could only cry, clinging onto him like he weren’t the wolf and you weren’t little red, pure white dove chomped and chewed in his jaws like Carol Ann Duffey had described— you locked in his claws as he ripped away at tattered old clothing.

Past relationships had ended on bad terms for you, similar to himself, because it seemed no one had ever taken the time to read into you properly. Hadn’t taken the time to map out your story on paper and analyze you; the perfect specimen, the apple of his eye, a goddess among humans and his pretty little princess.

So soft and so pretty. Something a little sick, twisted, in his mind that he’d been able to lock you away in a cage like a bird, delicate little wings snapped in two where escape was impossible; thoughts of a life without him nothing more than a breathy whisper in the wind.

“Which one do you want today, sweetheart?” Namjoon’s arm laces around your shoulder, tugging you closer into his side. Your Mary Janes tapping gently against the tile floor.

You peer into the display case, fingers tightly clasped around the sleeve of his hoodie; an anchor for your fraying feelings, anxiety creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t rush you, simply raising an eyebrow at the worker behind the counter who gets angsty at your thoughtful pondering. Line of customers slowly building behind the two of you; and Namjoon can hear a few impatient mutters.

“Strawberry, please” you fall back into his side, weight solely dependent on Namjoon holding you up.

Your boyfriend turns his attention back towards the barista, fingers carding through your hair.

“One americano, a hot chocolate and one of the strawberry cakes, thank you” he turns his attention back to you; watching as you rock and forth on your heels.

“Why don’t you go and pick a table out for us, darling?”

You hum, fingers tugging at his sleeve mindlessly once more before you’re scampering towards a table by the window.

Namjoon feels his cock twitch in his pants as you bend over the table slightly, collecting the discarded straw wrappers that had been left on the table; and he watches your skirt raise a little up your thighs, supple skin taunting him.

He doesn’t bother with whatever the barista tells him, pushing his card across the counter as he watches you; legs bouncing anxiously as you grip the hem of your shirt, finally taking a seat.

He waves at you as he waits at the end of the counter, the scent of freshly brewed coffee thick in the air and Namjoon worries about the impeding headache you’re sure to have.

“Here you go, pretty” he places the tray in the middle of the table, tutting when you go to grab your mug of hot chocolate. You simply fall back into your chair, eyes trained on Namjoon’s hand as he places your drink before you.

“Thank you” you smile up at him as he pulls out the chair beside you.

“You’re welcome” he coos, dragging your chair closer to his own, his neck craning to kiss your temple.

Your smile is shy though your attention is quickly snatched by his fingers that dig around the pocket of his hoodie.

He pushes his phone to your side of the table, hand laying heavy on the back of your neck as you pick it up.

“I’m gonna get a new high score” you tell your boyfriend, turning to give him a determined smile as your tap tap tile game loads.

“Yeah?” he asks, eye smile so pretty you get lost looking at him for a moment. Only snapping out of your own little reverie when he blows on your hot chocolate. “Drink up” he reminds you.

You nod, delicate fingers picking your mug up by the handle, and you watch as Namjoon brings his own coffee to his lips for a taste.

“Good?”

You nod, “Good”

Namjoon’s thumb continues to brush over the back of your neck as you hunch over the table, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you load up one of the songs of your game.

Your mouth falls open when Namjoon’s fingers dig into the back of your hair, tugging your head back.

He watches as your lips close around the forkful of cake he feeds you, endeared smile on his face as a little bit of the cream clings to the corners of your lips. You don’t seem to take much notice as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, eyes glued to the screen of his phone.

Your lips part after swallowing, tongue peeking out to lick at the pad of Namjoon’s thumb before he’s slipping it into your mouth.

“Yummy?” he asks, and you fall back into your chair— game suddenly long forgotten as Namjoon’s thumb lays heavy on your tongue.

You nod, fingers itching for the fork. Your boyfriend simply tuts, “Let me do that for you” his thumb slips out of your mouth, soon replaced with another large forkful of strawberries and cream.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Namjoon’s attention is quickly snatched from his laptop when he hears a gentle knock on the door of his home office.

You always seemed to count a few seconds before you opened the door, always mindful that he was often busy; even if he’d made it clear that he was never too busy for you.

“What’s wrong, darling?” he closes his laptop, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

“You’re not in bed” you whisper, still lingering in the doorway. Frilly-socked feet shuffling anxiously against the carpet.

Namjoon thinks you look like a dream, eyes heavy with lingering sleep, thin strap of your silk nightdress slipping off your shoulder as you curl in on yourself. Always ever so shy, even after years together.

He’d taken his time pampering you that evening. An hour spent in the bath where’d he’d lathered your body in thick suds of soap, sweet smelling like roses that had sat in the summer sun all afternoon, skin warm like petals that had basked in the golden rays of light. Silent promises of a love that will last forever, until he takes his last breath, until the world ceases to exist and his love can longer be— traced under light fingertips that knew your body better than you ever would.

You squirmed as he’d rubbed lotion into every inch of skin your body had to offer— body his temple, your soul his goddess that he worshiped like you were his only purpose in life. Each breath he took, every step he’d continue to take, everything for you.

You’d laid spread across his lap as he’d worked any knots out of your back before dressing you up pretty for bed. Flimsy silk nightdress tickling your skin, brushing against bare thighs, where Namjoon’s hands had the freedom to roam your body until you’d been giggling at him to stop.

His favorite pastime, brushing your hair before bed; his hands those of Rumplestiltskin, each strand treated like intricately created golden thread, gentle as he tugs each knot until perfect.

He’d been there when you’d fallen asleep, bones jelly after he’d fingered you to an orgasm and mind nothing more than cotton candy softness as you’d tugged your precious little bunny to your chest. A gift he’d given you your first date together; and although you claimed you never had favorites , it was always his bunny that remained in your arms as you slept.

And truly he thought tonight he would finish up the last of the project he’d been given, the rest of the week yours; his time cupped in your hands to use however you pleased. The smile you were sure to give him each day after work, worth the pain of a single one nighter.

“I have some work to finish up, why don’t you go lay down, and I’ll be there in a little while” he tilts his head, gentle smile toying at the corners of his lips.

Your lips mould into a pout, “No” you shake your head, voice pulling out a little whiny “You have to come with me, Joonie. Right now”

“But I’m busy, darling” he coos, rolling his chair away from his desk. Legs falling open and he wonders how long it’ll take you to crawl into his lap.

He watches you thrown yourself to the floor, falling to your knees with a dull thump, and he worries they’ll bruise. You don’t seem to care, too pre-occupied with the start of your bubbling tantrum to care about any future injuries; you’ll be sure to milk all of your boyfriend’s sympathy when you he patches you up later. Crying until he’s kissing it all better, and maybe he’ll buy you a gift for being so brave.

He’d seen you scrolling through a few shops online earlier in the day before dinner, rosy-red blush painting your cheeks at a few items you’d hopefully saved.

You hiccup, stuffed bunny clung to your chest as you shake your head. “No, no” you sniffle, “You have to come now” your legs kick a little underneath you.

It was no secret that Namjoon liked to spoil you. Truthfully, he didn’t see the issue— what else was he supposed to do when housing a little princess? If you wanted something then who was he to say no?

Especially when you looked up at him through wet lashes, tears clinging to your cheeks like freshly fallen rain would the petal of a flower.

“Don’t cry” he frowns, heart clenching at the utter distraught on your face; cheeks glazed in saline tears and eyes watery, another miserable cry ready to slip past your lips. “Come here, my precious little baby”

The sob you let out is pitiful, bunny’s fluffy little paw held so tight in your hand as you push yourself to stand. Floppy ears soaking up your tears as you wipe your cheeks.

Namjoon’s hand’s curl under your thighs as you push yourself into his lap, a new wave of tears spilling down your cheeks.

“oh dolly” he croons, “You’ve been fussy all day, haven’t you? What’s wrong?”

Your arms wrap around his neck, face tucked tightly into his shoulder as you choke on another sob. Bunny tucked between your chests.

His thumb is gentle as it brushes over the top of your thighs.

“Tell me what happened” he rests his cheek against the top of your head, mean little smile pulling at his cheeks as your sobs fizzle to little hiccups.

“Work” you whisper, fingers threading into his hair, tugging rhythmically as you mouth at his neck.

“What happened at work?”

You whine, pushing your body flush against Namjoon’s. His hands wander, grabbing your ass as you rock forwards; bare pussy brushing over his pyjama pants.

“There’s a— there’s a new guy” your hips falter and Namjoon holds in a groan as your weight settles right over his cock.

Namjoon hums, “What about him?”

“He—“ a breathy moan drips off your tongue as his fingers dig into the meat of your ass.

“He what, darling? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong” he murmurs, fingers mean as he tugs your face away from his neck by the back of your hair.

Your mouth falls open, and Namjoon watches your eyes glaze over, though this time it’s not tears; and he wonders if you can see how ruined you look in the reflection of his glasses.

“Tell me” your thighs clenching at his tone.

You whimper, “He said a bad word, can’t say it”

Namjoon’s head tips backwards, “Go ahead and say it, baby. I won’t get mad”

“Promise?”

He smiles, endeared “Promise”

“He asked me on a date” your fingers grasp onto the neckline of his shirt, and your boyfriend hums, “I said no, because I have a boyfriend”

“And?”

He watches as your bottom lip quivers, breath hitching in your throat. “Said you didn’t need to know, could be a quick fuck in the back room”

Namjoon’s jaw ticks, “What’s his name?” his fingers skim over your jaw, your hips jutting forward. “Name, darling”

“Jimin” you breathe, “Told Nana, and she said she’d talk to him”

“Yeah?” Namjoon hums, “I’ll sort him out, okay?”

“Okay” you nod.

“Well done for telling me, darling” he smiles, an attempt to ease any lingering anxiety you had. The last thing he wanted was for you to hate work when you enjoyed it so much.

Your hips rut forwards, Namjoon pulling your nightdress up around your hips, watching as your bare cunt drags over his slowly hardening cock.

You lean forwards, lips brushing over Namjoon’s jaw as his hands guide your hips. You moan as the head of his cock brushes over your clit.

“Feel good, darling?” Namjoon’s breathing is heavy, one of his arms tucking under your thighs as he hoists you further up his chest, his free hand tugging his pants down.

Your hand travels between your bodies, tips of your fingers brushing over Namjoon’s slit, precum oozing out the tip as your hand runs down his length.

“Up you get” he helps you, head of his cock running through your slit as you roll your hips forwards.

You bite down on your bottom lip, watery whines bubbling up your throat with each nudge of your boyfriend’s cock running over your clit. Arousal seeps past your folds down Namjoon’s length.

You hold his cock against your cunt, Namjoon’s fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave bruises, but you didn’t seem to care all that much as your hips roll forward.

“Inside Joonie” you whine, tongue laving over the skin of his neck.

Namjoon takes a hold of the base of his cock, and you use his shoulders as leverage, chair wobbling under your joint weight as you line up his cockhead with your hole.

Your fingers run through your folds, wetness soaking your fingers as you circle your clit gently, Namjoon helping you as the tip of his cock brushes over your hole. And you let out an involuntary whine as the stimulation.

Your arms wrap around Namjoon’s neck, head of his cock splitting you open as you ease yourself down an inch before you’re pulling off slowly.

“Your pretty little pussy is so small” Namjoon groans. Flared cockhead pulling your pussy taught as you try and ease down lower.

You breath gets stuck in your throat, Namjoon’s fingers gently thumbing at your clit as you clench around his length. Slowly starting to stuff each agonizing inch into your cunt.

You whine as you reach the hilt, hips rutting forward messily. You moan at the lick of please that wracks through your body with each slow drag of Namjoon’s thick cock against your walls.

Namjoon pulls your face away from hiding by the back of your neck, tugging you until your lips mould into one, tongue pushed into your mouth, fresh minty toothpaste coating his tastebuds.

You start to bounce in his lap, childish impatience starting to take over as you chase after an orgasm. Always a little greedy when it came to your own pleasure, using Namjoon to get yourself off before you ever allow him to chase his own release.

“That’s it” he moans, unabashed in his arousal.

Namjoon uses his legs as an anchor, holding the two of you in place, ensuring the chair doesn’t tip over as the back of your thighs slap against the top of his own.

You moan as his thumb continues to brush over your clit, a ring of your arousal gathered at the base of his cock with each jittery raise of your hips.

“Doing so well for me” Namjoon groans, “Always such a good girl, yeah?”

“Mhmm” you nod, bunny tumbling to the floor. Long forgotten as you feel the precipice of your pleasure slowly boiling away in your stomach.

“Gonna cum for me?”

Your thighs shake at that, deep groan of pleasure shooting straight to your cunt as you continue to ride Namjoon like it were the last time.

“Go on, cum for me”

Namjoon’s hands find themselves perched under your ass, aiding you as your legs start to grow tired. Muscles in his arms bulging as he drags you up and down his length.

“So small, could use you as my own little fleshlight. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” he groans, mirth swimming in his eyes.

Meanly, Namjoon pinches your clit and that’s all it takes for searing hot pleasure to wash over your body, thighs shaking at your release.

You hiccup another sob at the burning arousal as Namjoon continues to ram his cock back up inside you, thick rivulets of your slick coating his balls as he chases his own release.

“Too much” you cry, hands wrapping around his wrists as his fingers dig into your hips.

“I’m close, hold on for me” Namjoon’s head tips back.

Namjoon can feel your pussy as it pulsates around his length; you let out something akin to a squeak as you feel his cock twitch.

Mouth falling open in a silent moan as his warm cum paints your insides white.

You raise up on shaky legs, tip of his cock left nestled between your walls before you’re falling back down on his length; cum pushed deep inside of you.

“Oh my baby” he coos, fingers gentle as they brush through your hair, “Sleepy?”

You nod, words fizzling out on your tongue as you yawn.

Your cunt continues to clench around his cock, even as you fall asleep on his chest.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The bell above the door is obnoxious in announcing Namjoon’s arrival.

‘Pages of Love’ the little bookshop you worked at.

He would have gotten you to quit the shitty little job by now if it didn’t hold such significance in your relationship. He’d first met you here, had dates here, and it made you so happy that Namjoon couldn’t bare to see the sad pout that would be sure to form if he ever suggested you left this place behind.

“Namjoon” the old woman behind the counter smiles, waving him over. “I’m sure you’re aware but it’s y/n’s day off”

“Actually, Nana, I’m here for something else” he smiles, expression saddened and the old woman frowns.

“Anything” she nods.

“It’s about Jimin. He doesn’t happen to be working today, does he?”

“He’s on break right now.” She tuts, “Is this about what he said to y/n. I’ve already warned him about it”

“She came home upset” he shakes his head and Nana sighs.

“Poor girl. She’s lucky to have you, Namjoon”

“Thank you” his smile is genuine, though it drops the moment he steps out the door.

And he waits, waits weeks before he decided what he wants to do with the lowly piece of shit that dared suggest you cheat on him.

Waited weeks as he wrote down every sick little fantasy he had about the ways he’d maul his body. Shredding limbs, gutting him alive. Maybe he’d decapitate him and then send his head to his mother, or chop his filthy dick off and make him watch as he fed it to whatever animal is willing to chew on nearly nothing.

Written fantasies weren’t enough. Namjoon’s fingers always itching, always eager to finally wrap around the boy’s lithe throat and make him beg for mercy until his face is red and pride oozing out of his body with his fear.

“I’m gonna be home late tonight, little one” Namjoon tucks your hair behind your ear, gentle smile rivaling your frown.

“Why?” you ask, blinking up at him through your lashes.

“I have a small job I need to take care of”

“Can I help?”

“Nope” he leans down, soft feathery kiss pressed to you cheek before he’s pulling back, standing at full height.

You look up at him, “You can’t go”

“And why not?” he challenges.

“Because” your defense weak and truly Namjoon wishes he could stay.

“I charged your ipad this morning” and your eyes light up.

“Be quick, okay?” you push yourself up on your tippy toes, hands cupping his cheeks as you press a kiss to his lips.

“Promise” he smiles, “Now be a good girl, and don’t cause any trouble”

“I won’t” you wave him off.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Namjoon isn’t exactly sure what he expects to see when he finally gets home, a quick detour to Seokjin’s house to wash off Jimin’s blood and a change of clothes taking longer than he’d anticipated when his friend had insisted on making them both tea.

He can’t help the groan that bubbles up his throat at the sight of you. Skirt flipped up with three fingers, knuckle deep inside your pretty little pussy as you play a colour by number game on your ipad.

“Fucking hell, darling” he kicks his shoes off, jacket long forgotten on the floor as he crouches down in front of you.

You pull your slick covered fingers out of your cunt, gently circling your clit as you blink down at him.

“Couldn’t wait until I got home?”

“I got bored” you whine, legs falling open wider and Namjoon takes that as his invitation to run his thumb through your slit.

His hands hold your thighs in place as he leans down to press a kiss over your clit, tongue slipping from between his lips to lick over the bundle of nerves.

You hips stutter as his tongue drags across your folds, another wave of arousal seeping out your cunt at the unexpected nudge of his tongue against you hole.

Your fingers tangle into your boyfriend’s hair as he sucks over your clit, fingers teasing your entrance before he’s pushing two fingers inside of you.

“How pretty” he coos, accompanied by a wet squelch. “The prettiest little pussy, it’s a wonder how you fit anything inside of you”

You squirm, finger stuffed into your mouth as you try and hold back an embarrassed moan.

“Not little” you whine, hips chasing Namjoon’s fingers each time he pulls out.

“Oh, but you are” your thighs twitch as his warm breath brushes over your sensitive clit, hours of mindless toying with your cunt bringing you to the brink of an orgasm.

Namjoon kisses over your mound, kisses over your clit, and then kisses over his fingers as they curl up inside of you.

He can’t help the smile that pulls at his cheeks at the guttural moan you let out when he finds that particular spot inside of you.

“Cum for me, darling” his voice breathless, as he starts to scissor his fingers.

All it takes is one mean little nip to your clit and you’re tipping over the edge; legs shaking as they clamp around your boyfriend’s head.

His tongue continues to flick over your clit, fingers nestled deep within your walls as he helps you ride out your high.

“Enough” you whimper, tugging his head away from between your legs.

You squirm at the glossy sheen that covers Namjoon’s chin when he finally pulls away from your pussy.

“Well done” his hands run up and down your trembling thighs, “Think you can take a little more?”

Your eyes flicker down to his cock, heavy in his pants and you nod; tongue wetting your lips.

“My good girl”

Namjoon pulls you to lay across the length of the couch, fingers tugging your blouse over your head as you shuck off your skirt.

You tug messily at the back of your bra, and Namjoon smiles, bending down to help you.

He groans, taking one of your nipples into his mouth as he palms himself through his slacks.

“God, you’re so pretty”

Your squeak when he bites the plush skin, trail of kisses searing as he reaches your neck.

Your hands fumble with his pants, waistband pulled taught as your try and slip your fingers into his underwear.

“Always so impatient, aren’t you?” he coos, “here let me help you”

You pout at the loss of warmth, the loss of his large body completely covering your own; hands grabbing for neck when he sits up on his knees.

Your hips rock upwards, silently begging for any sort of stimulation as you watch Namjoon’s cock spring free, slapping against his stomach.

Your pussy gushes another wave of slick at the sight of your boyfriend with his hand wrapped around his cock, his hands always had been big; swallowing the girth of his cock when your fingers barely wrapped around it.

You can feel the phantom ache in your jaw, countless times he’d shoved his dick into your mouth, splitting it open like he would your cunt with absolutely no mercy.

“You’re staring” though there’s no embarrassment in his tone, eyebrow lifted cocky and lazy smile tugging at your lips.

“Inside, please” you whine, legs falling open enough for him to slot in place.

“Of course, sweetheart”

Your legs tremble in anticipation, eyes squeezing shut as he runs the head through the slit; slicking up his length before he’s pushing at your entrance.

“You sure you can fit me?” you can hear the laugh in his voice, retort on the tip of your tongue only he chooses that moment to nudge the tip of his cock over your clit.

“Joonie” you complain, “please, need you”

And Namjoon watches, lets you, grab onto his length, watching as you rut your hips down until he’s popping inside of you.

Your walls constrict around him, and he’s absolutely fascinated by how such a small pussy is even able to stretch around him.

“Good girl” and he can’t help the moan that follows.

He’s barely thrusting, gentle roll of his hips feeding each inch of his cock into your wet cunt.

You moan like he was ramming into you, always so sensitive, always so responsive to his touch.

“Feel good?” he asks when he finally bottoms out, thighs connected and heartbeats in sync. It’s moments like these Namjoon revels being alive, being one with you. Truly the closest you’ll ever be to one another; and he thinks he finally feels complete when lodged between your sodden walls.

“So deep” you whisper, fingers skimming over your stomach.

Namjoon pulls your legs over his shoulders, bending forwards until you’re almost folded in half.

Your moan is breathless when he gently pulls out, only to snap his hips back into you.

Your hands grasp onto the pillows of the couch as Namjoon picks up his pace, your tits bouncing, and cunt squelching with every brutal thrust into you.

“Fucking hell, you are tiny” Namjoon groans, and you whimper as his hand presses down on your lower stomach.

You dare take a look, hiccup of a moan ripped from your throat as you see it. An outline of his cock right bellow your belly button, head nudging the taught skin with each thrust into you, only for it to disappear as he pulls out.

Your fingers splay over it, cunt convulsing around his length as your feel him move under your skin.

You feel it rising, pussy swollen and worn from your previous orgasm. Namjoon seems to know, he always knows when you’re slowly climbing to the peak of high.

His fingers find clit, tight little circles sending jolts of pure, blissful pleasure through your body, another wave of arousal seeping out your cunt to soak his cock.

“Gonna cum for me?” he moans between eat thrust, “Be a good girl and cum for me”

The cry you let out is near pornographic, knees knocking against the side of Namjoon’s head as he continues to flick at your clit. Pleasure numbing that when you finally reach your high, your mind blanks, a blanket of fluff consuming you as Namjoon continues to jackhammer into your used cunt.

“Doing so well for me. So close. I’m so close” he groans, fingers finally pulling off your clit as your thighs continue to shake.

When you come to, Namjoon’s thrusts are a sloppy, thrusts barely coordinated as he ruts into you.

And your breath hitches at the final twitch of his cock, he pushes as far into you as he can before he’s cumming.

Thick waves of cum filling you up. He groans as you clench around him, walls still spasming from your own release. And he gently rocks into you, an attempt to push his cum as deep into your soiled cunt as possible.

“You did so well, darling” he swallows thickly, back of his hand wiping the sheen of sweat from his forehead.

You whine as he begins to pull out, mixture of both your releases dribbling out of your hole.

Your thighs twitch when Namjoon parts your lips, hole clenching around nothing as you push another wave of his cum out of your pussy. His fingers scoop it up, circling your entrance before he’s pushing them back between your walls.

“What do you think about a bath?” he hums, watching your eyes fall droopy.

You nod, hands blindly grabbing for your boyfriend to pick you up.

He smiles down at you, arms slipping beneath your body to pick you up as he wanders further into the house.

You wriggle around when he flips the light on, eyes stinging a little at the sudden burst of brightness.

“Alright missy” he sits you on the toilet, and you lean your head against his hip as pee, bones too floppy to even think of holding yourself up.

You remain sat on the toilet as he runs a bath, fussy when he picks you up again though it’s easily soothed with a gentle kiss to your lips.

He thinks you fall asleep as he washes your back, gentle as his soapy hands grope your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples and you squirm at that.

Namjoon is endeared when the two of you finally get out the bath, skin soft and sweet smelling, perfect for kisses. And he can’t help the laugh that bubbles up his throat when you kick your pyjamas away, refusing to put them on yourself when his hands were fully capable.

“Oh my little princess” he kisses both your cheeks, “How about some cake for being such a good girl?”

You see, Namjoon had always been a little bit of a liar. Had told so many lies that truly he didn’t know the what was real and what was not anymore. And if he didn’t know then you never would either.

Every little lie he’d told you from the start, every white lie, every left out detail of his life suddenly seemed insignificant when you were tucked under his chin, sleeping so peacefully, a true sleeping beauty.

And maybe he didn’t really like the classics. Maybe his real love of novels were romances, because he’d always be the prince and you’d always be his princess. A perfect fairytale that would always have a happy ending.

Because if anyone dared scribble out the pages, change his plot, then he would simply erase their existence, and the readers of his life would never know the difference.

You belonged to him. You are his as much as he is yours.

Your life his only reason. Your happiness that little spark of good that still resides inside him. And as long as you come home every day with that same pretty little smile on your face, then Namjoon feels no guilt for the countless people that lay dead, long forgotten by the world as they rest six feet under for daring bring you sadness. Because he’d erased them, with no way to wiggle their way back into the story of his life.

Because what was a prince if he couldn’t take care of a villain that would disturb his perfect fairytale ending?

[hoeforhao]

🌙 Fated Under The Rain ☆ Wonwoo Oneshot ☆

↝ pairing: ex boyfriend! wonwoo × fem! reader

↝ genre: explicit language, smut with little plot, minors dni!!!!!! mutual pining but mainly from wonwoo, fluff, slight humor, overall nothing heavy just a small sensual drabble.

↝ warnings: unprotected sex(wrap it up kids), creampie, breast play, fingering, marking. Tell me if I missed any!

↝ summary: will offering lift to the man who left you in pieces amidst heavy rain lead to something your heart has been craving for months?

↝ word count: 2k(am sorry😭)

↝ author's note: was driving back home yesterday while it was literally pouring down outside, my favorite song playing on spotify and all i could think of instead focusing on the road was this plot!

Lemme know if you enjoyed the drabble! Feedbacks always make me feel warm♡

Permanent taglist : @feat-sun @joonsytip

Amidst the rain seeping it's path down the glass panels, the heaven clan's haze shielding your view from the mundane maneuver of the blurred out world, your glistening beads have found their long craved spot onto the tall, broad shouldered man standing by the signal, hair and shirt completely soaked up from the pouring skies, while his eyes were desperately searching for a way back - was it to his brick stoned house or his lost home?

"Going back home?" thrusting on the clutch and then the brake to bring your car to a halt at the blinking bloody lights, you roll down the passenger side's window as a way to offer some sort of help to the seemingly distressed man on top of the pavement.

A familiar voices grazes wonwoo's ears as his eyes shoot up in anticipation,looking for the owner of the claimed voice, only to land them on you. Did rain cloud his vision? Cuz there's no way that you were now parked beside him, asking whether he's struggling to get back home or not.

"Y-yes" the older nervously scratches the back of his head, not sure of what to say to the person he has pained so deep.

"I can drop you off, if you don't mind obviously" only you knew how hard it was for you to maintain an indifferent composure before the one man you've cared for and treasured so dearly, being fully aware of the fact that he's highly sensitive to rainwater; 'typical cat behavior' you laugh at yourself!

"No its fine. I'll find a cab soon" wonwoo tries to be as polite as possible, even though every vein of his body wants to jump into the car right now.

"I've been watching you clawing onto your scalp in frustration for the past 30 minutes and you think i'll still believe in your 'will find a cab soon'?" you genuinely didn't realise when the old habits took over the new persona and you started acting as the protective girlfriend you were, visualizing that one time he fell severely ill for days after getting poured onto on his way to the office; a memory you never wanna revisit ever again.

"Hop on quick if you don't wanna end up amongst the white walls for the second time!! Only 10 seconds are left to go" eyes quickly deviating towards the beeping timer of the signal, while you shift up the gear and slowly start bringing up your feet off the floor, ready to drive out as soon as the light turns green.

All of wonwoo's self control leave his body seeing the same old care flash by on his lost lover's face, as he swiftly pulls onto the door's latch, positioning his nearly drenched body onto the leather seats.

The defeaning silence between the two past kins were filled by wonwoo's occasional glances at the strong independent lady sitting beside him and the radio playing your favorite songs, those which you constantly looped onto spotify throughout the entire spell of your heart longing for wonwoo.

Looks like even the gods are against you today as a warm wet hand lands on yours that were stationed onto the gear beside. As much as you wanted to engulf those palms into yours instantly and never let them go, you knew quite well that he was now not yours, not your to claim, not your to hold onto. Thus the only thing you could do was keep your eyes fixed onto the slippery road infront and drive him home safe.

But the heavens knew better. Your plans were currently going for a battle with you as wonwoo kept on grazing his soft gentle digits onto the back of your hand, everytime you shifted them to change the gear, drawing small circles on them occasionally.

The sensation now reaching the threshold of your body, making your skin call for the touch of his lips and your insides craving the warmth of his body, it was time for you to slow down your car by a deserted road and park the black shiny carrier under the moonlight.

"What do you want wonwoo?" a stern yet begging pair of eyes turns towards the passenger seat, where the big man was resting his wet body on.

"I miss you y/n. I've always missed you" wonwoo now completely engulfs your palms into his, squeezing them hard from the anticipation of what's about to come his way. "Can...can i feel you for one last time, pls?"

You see the desperation behind those black boba balls, the way those droplets of tears are being held captive in the backroom; besides it was gradually getting hard to ignore the pained screams of your body to feel him beneath you. Abandoning all the huff,anger, hurt that made their home in you for so long, you fleetly jumped out from the driver's seat while pushing back wonwoo's to make enough space for you on his lap.

Startled by the sudden presence of your wet clothed cunt over the tent in his tight jeans, wonwoo's body jolts up in the heat flowing through him, dulling his morals and senses as he only wants to fuck the life out of you right now ; and he shows no delay in his endeavor as he clings his mouth onto your neck like a beast deprived of his meal for months, loitering the supple skin beneath with his marks.

"I missed you so fuckin much y/n" he whispers into your nape, hands roaming up your waist, under your satin shirt, caressing the soft pillowy tummy he has always preferred laying on, pawing onto your boobs over the black lacey bra you wore to work, for lord knows what reasons; while his lips now clutched themselves to your plumpy vanilla lips.

"May I, please?" there's literally not a single person on the earth who can say no to those pleasing kitty eyes. So you just hummed against the kiss - not a passionate one but a longing one; wonwoo's lips were moving on yours in such insatiable hunger that it seemed like he wanted to imprint the taste onto his mouth forever, who knows if he'll ever get to feel them again....as if his lips have finally found their twin flame they've been craving for months now!

One single go signal from you and wonwoo wasted no time in tugging onto the buttons of your flowy shirt, ripping them open in just a matter of seconds. His eyes lit up like an excited puppy upon seeing your bare skin, glowing under the moonlit rainy sky....oh how he has missed this sight of yours so much, you whimpering on him, all vulnerable and begging for his touch against your heated core.

"Fuck you're still so sweet my love" he moans into your jiggly soft boobs, mouth fixed onto one of your hardened nipples, while he pawed at the other one.

The words 'my love' from the mouth of the one your heart still belongs to, still craves for and still wants to be claimed by, does no good in controlling the dripping from your already soaked pussy, as you start roughly grinding against his clothed length.

"Hmmm so impatient for my cock, aren't you pretty baby" a wide smirk creeping it's way onto wonwoo's face as he notices you getting impatient to feel him inside you. Finding it exciting and a prideful moment for him, the hand that was kneading onto your doughy mounds now trails down to your panties under the very convenient skirt your were harboring ; drawing his cold fingers over your sensitive clothed clit sending your head thrown against the windshield of your car.

"Pls..pls stop teasing and fuck me already wonu" you were yourself amazed at how desperate you seemed for his cock in your throbbing pussy.

"But I don't have a condom sweetheart" wonwoo knew absolutely well that you didn't give a damn about having unprotected sex with him as he smirked onto the skin around your nipples, teasing your wet sticky fold with his free fingers ; pulling out a string of slick from your pussy infront of you, he proudly shows you how much of a slut you're for his touch.

"You..ahh...you think...I....shit...fuckin care about having a condom right now? Just go in raw please....haven't felt your cock in me....for so long....fuck" lord if anyone ever got near to the black beauty parked on the roadside and heard the lewd sounds escaping your lips, they would surely be traumatized for days, but that was the least of your concerns now.

"As my princess wishes" and with that wonwoo quickly moves his limbs towards his pants, shoving down the chain of his trousers in the flick of an eye, while he finally releases his strained hard cock from its restraints, precum leaking down its tip as he tries to slightly palm down the pain before sheathing them into your walls.

"Just as tight as I left it" he growls onto your neck as his cock now thrusts into your slick walls at a inhumane pace, as if he slowly down, he'll forever lose the warmth of this pussy. "Fitting me so well into the mould u created only for me to fill"

The rain outside and the haze of all the juices leaking from the two bodies inside the car, creates a mystical world bounded within the tinted glasses of the vehicle, while wonwoo keeps on fucking you dumb onto his lap.

"I...I'm near wonw-- ah fuck" you lose control over your core muscles at the sensation of wonwoo's tip hitting your womb, as your core's glistening cream paints his black jeans white ; not to mention you were now embarrassed at the fact that he has to go home with such stained pants....or maybe not-

"My pretty little whore, so glowy after ruining my new jeans huh" you can feel wonwoo's pace slowing down a bit, knowing quite well what's about to follow. "Lemme return the favor and ruin your insides, ruin your pussy so that no one can get to bury themselves in you, except me.....only my hole to fuck"

Wonwoo's body falls limp onto the headrest of the seat as he shoots his entire load into you, cock still moving amongst your walls, fucking his seeds deep inside you.

"Can i have another chance, please?" wonwoo finally looks you into your pleasure coated eyes while shifting you on his lap to wrap your arms around his neck, resting his sweat forehead onto yours.

"At what? Fucking me?" you were seemingly confused at his words as you didn't think he would be wanting anything else other than sex, after how he let go off your hand in the middle of you two's promised path, 8 months ago.

"No...no...at l-loving you, pls" his voice suddenly portrays a cast of regret and pain, "I know I fucked up, I hurt the one I've loved with all my might all this time. I...I could never get you out of my head y/n, my eyes and my heart kept looking for you at every corner of my messed up life. Pls, will you give your catto one last chance?" something unexpected rolled down wonwoo's cheeks and it was none other than tear drops. Was...was he really crying for you, begging you back into his arms again?

"This time if you leave, I'll make sure to castrate you, so that you can't ever get a girl around you after me" you laugh onto his skin while placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, your fingers wiping off the dried out tears on his cheeks.

"I'll happily place my dick under your guillotine, my highness" wonwoo hasn't felt this happy since months, heart fluttering at the thought of walking beside you again, fingers locked into one another's.

Your heart swells looking at the misty scene outside, remembering how the first time you two decided to date, it was raining cats and dogs as you were pulling him under a tree to sheath yourselves from the rain...and now when the skies decided to grant you another chance at healing your soul with the one you loved, it's raining heavily - again!!!

"Eh but what about your pants wonu, how will you go home with these...ummm...stains" a genuine question you've been dying to ask him, as you surely don't have a change for men's jeans in your car.

"Who said we are going home baby"

[starryhiraeth]

Lorcan x reader

Warnings?; Kidnapping, murder, blood, gore and ✨spelling errors ✨

It was dark in the cell, you could only make out the dirty brick walls around you and the bars in front.

It was cold and the air was damp, somewhere off in the distance there was a dripping sound echoing through the cell? Dungeon? You couldn’t tell.

You didn’t know what had taken you, one second you were going to give some reports on the small rebellions rising here and there to your friend and queen, Aelin and the next, a cloth was over your mouth, you tried not to breathe in the powder but in the end you could hold your breath.

And what’s worse?

No one knew you were gone.

Your tried to reach out to Lorcan through the bond but still no one had come for you

You were going to die there.

You thought back to the days when life was much simpler, you were known as the most beautiful female to ever live, even to the point of some males thinking you were a demon.

So carefree.

So naive…

You’d been toying with two guys much older then you and they found out about each other, they had gotten into an altercation and probably would’ve killed each other if it ether for him.

Lorcan.

Your mate.

He’d rolled his eyes once he saw the males fighting and was half tempted to leave them to it and then he saw you

Your eyes tearing up and hands shaking.

The bond hit him like being run over by a carriage

He immediately dragged the males away from each other and walked you home whilst you ranted about how you didn’t know they would go that far and how you felt and how you’d gone to far this time.

Lorcan said nothing, only throughout the journey getting physically closer,

At first you are just walking together then he got closer then a hand on the shoulder then to your waist until when you finally got home and said goodnight, you looked him in the eyes and it clicked.

You were going to die. You are also positively sure that the ones who kidnapped you are from the rebellion.

Fae haters.

Tears started to fall as you realised that you would probably never see any of your friends or mate again, rethinking all the things you wished you’d said to them, to him.

Until a scream came from the darkness, you flinched shuffling away from the bars as more cries on agony screeched out of the darkness, you started to cry harder.

Until from the shadows he came out, Lorcan himself, covered head to toe in blood that wasn’t his own,

“Lorc” you whimpered out

He raised he sword and demolished the bars before he rushed over and took a tried, dirty and bleeding you into his arms,

Tears of relief poured from your eyes and he his whispered words of comfort into your pointed ears,

“Your okay”

“Your alright”

“I’ve got you baby”

Carrying you out of the dungeon, bridal style, you noticed that it had been carved into a cage on the side of a mountain and once your eyes adjusted to the light you looked down and saw fighting.

A white leopard. Lysandra.

A white wolf. Fenrys.

Thunder and wind. Rowan

A giant silver sword. Aedion

And roaring fire. Aelin

They all came for you.

You looked to their opponents, your kidnappers.

You recognised them, the males from all those years ago, the ones who had fought over you, and others of whom you had broken hearts.

This wasn’t an act of rebellion, it was an act of revenge, for breaking all their hearts.

Suddenly you felt a rush of guilt surround you before Lorcan squeezed your thigh and looked you in the eyes, almost sending you a message

It’s not your fault, it was hundreds years ago, you’ve grown up, it’s not your fault.

It was then two of the males who had fought over tog long ago appeared behind Lorcan and you,

Loran remembered them, the much older males who had fallen for his, naive at the time, mate.

The ones who distressed her when they fought and said the winner would keep her, Lorcan saw red.

He placed you behind him and drew his monstrous sword. Covered in blood and charged at them,

The battle continued as Lorcan sliced them up, by the end of it they were merely tiny pieces of flesh, blood and bone on the rocky floor. It was cold and viscous, you were almost worried that when he would turn back around you wouldn’t recognise the male you loved

Boy, were you wrong.

He turned back to you and there was darkness in his eyes, sure, but also love. Love for you had turned Lorcan into that dark killing machine, you reached reach out you him again as he very easily picked you up bridal style, again and held you closer just as you did

The scent of blood and death was the only thing you could smell on Lorcan but you couldn’t blame him.

You wouldn’t blame him.

He did it all for you. To get you back. To get back to his love,

You couldn’t blame him, for it was love that made him crazy.

[knackfandomarchive]

Now We're Thinking With Portals!

I initially thought of sending this as an ask to @sonicasura, but then wondered if maybe it's too sensitive and also long. And I only watched to like episode 4 so I bet things are wrong.

(KNACK X Kaiju no.8)

(also, textual depiction of Kaiju death, and blood. There is an image depicting blood)

Ok so, the plan requires equal parts extensive set-up, foresight, and prolonged secrecy and dumbassery; Somewhat characteristic of a certain duo comprised of a thirteen-year-old (headcanon) human boy and his relic monster brother (also headcanon).

Lucas wants to keep a tight lid on this plan. Though it was originally Knack's idea, Lucas quickly assumes the role of mastermind. He has to pick Kafka and Reno's brains for important information, seemingly innocuous questions like: How big can Kaiju get? Do they always explode when their bodies are pierced? Can I help clean up a Kaiju with you guys? These are natural questions, too, not so suspicious really.

There are so many ways this plan could go wrong.

Reno is only told the plan when Lucas needs to double-check his math. The latter forces the former to swear secrecy: Kafka wouldn't want a kid like Lucas anywhere near a live Kaiju, and he only hesitantly let him help scrape up a dead one.

Showtime is about to start after a Kaiju appears in just the right location. Just a few minutes after the evacuation order is delivered, Lucas virtually drags Reno away from the rest of the cleanup crew. Not sure if Kafka thinks much of it; everyone needs to evacuate and Lucas pretends to be doing just that, faking distress and begging Reno to get him out of there stat.

But the human boys appear on a rooftop directly adjacent/within the Kaiju's rampage path. I wouldn't be surprised if Reno got cold feet at this point: He looks at the angled mattress on the rooftop they stand on. He looks at the 9-feet tall relic golem - who's gripping the edge of a taller gothic building on the other side of the street with his weird bird feet and grinning down at them. Directly below Knack is an oval window, and far below, on the ground, Knack had removed the entire doorway and laid it down.

Reno looks at Lucas and says, "You're insane!"

Lucas finishes lowering his face shield, and laughs, clearly excited. Then says "Nuh uh! This is gonna be sick." He holds up a flag and Knack readies himself to jump.

Meanwhile, in another world, Doctor Vargas views the makeshift decoration set up in the garden: On the ground below a brick wall, relic ruin arches set together on their sides to form a ring, and a simpler ring of wire several feet above it, having a prong to hold it in place on the wall with something heavy. Minutes ago, the Doctor had been doing something else when the boys interrupted him, a slightly-too-tall-for-the-ceiling Knack telling him to go to the garden immediately and Lucas breathlessly giving clearer directions. Doc could barely register the words and take in the odd white garb Lucas was wearing, before the boys had high-fived with a "let's go!" and sprinted off.

Now, Lucas waits for the Kaiju to get closer, a convenient billboard keeping him and Reno out of sight. Reno is sweating, but Lucas is totally shaking, even as he grins under his mask. It's a little too late to go back now. Finally, the Kaiju's nose reaches the billboard when it spots Knack - who had himself anxiously shifted his weight - and decides he's a live thing to destroy.

Lucas swings down the flag, sending the signal, and Knack crosses his arms over his chest and jumps. The boys and Kaiju watch him fall and disappear through the archway. Lucas quietly pumps a fist, and Reno mutters that he hopes this works.

The Doctor was beginning to grow bored, until light flashes within the rings and Knack appears, falling through the portals faster and faster until he is just a blur. Knack tries to holler a greeting, "Hey... Doc..." but he is already exhausted. Finally the portals close and a great quantity of relics scatter all over the place, the Doctor yelping at the projectiles and diving behind a bush, mostly unharmed.

The Kaiju had turned itself to look down at where Knack disappeared, sniffing. Additionally, it had smacked its tail against the building the humans stood on, disturbing it. The humans flattened themselves down against the roof for this reason, as well as that the Kaiju was clear of Knack's flight path, and the living cannon ball would hurtle straight for the mattress.

This was a stupid plan, Lucas thinks to himself morosely, rolling onto his back. Helicopters approach overhead.

But then the Kaiju raises its head and body, and shudders. Knack had shot straight out of the window right then at top speed and slammed into the Kaiju's chest. If all had gone well, Knack would have been at his smallest size and maintained his form.

He doesn't come out the other side, meanwhile some relics have flown over the Kaiju's body, and the humans on the ground have to contend with the idea he might have bounced off or gotten stuck.

Defense Forces are loading out by this point.

But the Kaiju's flesh swells, caustic fluids combining, and explodes, sending blood, bone and organ matter flying. The Kaiju groans and collapses to the ground, defeated.

Reno quietly admits that that was cool.

Lucas leaps to his feet and gets dizzy. "Woah! It really went down?" And he cackles triumphantly. "But wait, where's Knack?"

He does a lunge at the edge of the roof, looking down and hoping to spy a 3-feet-tall humanoid made of relics. Sure enough, something small crawls out of the Kaiju corpse, sliding to the ground.

When Knack reaches the ground, he checks that his limbs are still intact and flicks off the gunk. It worked!

Only, the Defence Force is now on the scene! Uh oh!

[paroreaper]

IRL corpse / fatalitropy

(Fatal-eye-tropy)

Where one believes they are becoming, supposed to be, already are etc a corpse in some capacity.

One may experience; believing they are not capable of emotions or emotions are not theirs. The feeling they are piloting a living vessel whilst being dead, they are slowly dying when they are clearly not. They may believe in “fatalism” or nihilism, they may be severely desensitised or unable to connect. They may also experience, dissociation, mental, emotional etc dysfunction, derealisation and/or depersonalisation, distress over one’s perceived death and even a (false) memory of dying.

Remember if you need help please call a hotline, you are worth their time.

Fatalitropy (Fatal-eye-tropy)

Fatalitrope (Fatal-eye-tropy)

Referenced Fatalism - the belief that everyone is dying or dead.

[start ID: complex flag ID, 24 atypical stipend horizontal flag with left angled brown coffin symbol with white outline centred, top to bottom, old brown crayon - wavy sliced line (resembles grass), Juice violet - out facing bumpy line, Purple void - joined crescent in facing line, Juice violet - joined straight line,, goettingensis (grey blue) - joined straight line, castro (worn brick red) - squished bubble line, aurora brown - crescent filler line point into bubble line, dubonnet (shaded red) - taller crescent line point in and ontop of filler line, pharlap (dusted biege) - joined straight line, American milking devon (muddy brown) - outwards bumpy line, Scandinavian liquorice (dark chocolate) - middle straight line with burlwood (oak beige) colored 4 point star spaced along horizontal, other side mirrored design, edges have two darker and lighter drawn lines for depth. End ID]

[the-wonderlander]

╰┈➤ Homunsongic ⚝ 🐺🐑

[PT: Homunsongic / End PT]

[Picture ID: The first picture is a pride flag composed of seven horizontal lines all the same size, along of four circles of each different sizes, each overlapping over the lines at the very top and bottom. The smaller the circle gets, it covers the stripes nearest to the center rather than the ends of the pic; the second biggest circle has two dog ears at the sides. The colors of the stripes are the following from top to bottom: bone- green and fiery red with a pattern of a lamb's eyes in white- dark green with a pattern of spiral smoke and bone mixed with cyan waves- bone and bone with blue vase patterns- dark green with light green fangs and blue with a wiggly yellow stripe in the middle and cyan spikes on the bottom- green and fiery red with a pattern of cement shovels- and bone. The circles' colors, from biggest to smaller: brick, yellow, green and dark green. The second picture is the same, with a drawing of Limon's clay head in the center, looking distressed. / End ID.]

A gender related to the song “Homunculus” by Trickle. Might have to do with the energetic nature of the song, the religious and spiritual undertones of it, your own interpretation of the meaning of the song or all of the previously mentioned! There is no wrong way to identify with this, so long as you don't hurt yourself over it. Stay safe!

If you've not listened to the song, you can listen to it right under this small paragraph! ⬇️

Done for myself but pssst @attackofthekillerliomist I did it!!! >:]

[universitypenguin]

Hey Alice :) this is prob a weird question but what kind of car do you think Lloyd drives? We know he’s luxurious so I can see him in something sleek and sporty like an Audi or another European make car

Also how do you envision Lloyd’s house? Is he particular about his decor? Is he the type to be in to antiques or more modern pieces of furniture

I think Lloyd would drive something expensive, but also nondescript. I’m picturing a Mercedes-Benz sedan. It would probably be gray or black. I can see him in a few different models. If he was being conservative, he’d have bought a mid-priced model like a C 300. If he was in a spending mood when he bought the car, he’d have gone for the pricier S 580 4MATIC.

He likes the performance of German engineering and the powerful throttle of the motor. It’s an added bonus that in the D.C. metro, the car blends into the sea of other luxury vehicles. The reason he’d never consider a smaller, sporty model, like an Audi R8 or a BMW M4, is simple. You can’t fit a dead body in the trunk. He’s not planning to commit a crime, but proper preparation prevents poor performance. And when you need to move a dead body there’s no room for error.

Lloyd sticks with a roomy sedan that has plenty of space in the trunk. He keeps it stocked with a shovel and a large box of kitty litter. In the Virginia climate, those items don’t attract much notice. They’re snow storm essentials and he keeps them next to the emergency kit with blankets, water, jumper cables, and a tow chain. But a shovel and kitty litter is good for more than just getting traction in an ice storm, you know? 🫣

For his house, Lloyd lives across the Potomac from D.C. in Old Town Alexandria. He chose the house because it’s less than 30 minutes from the office and the charm of the cobblestone streets appeals to him.

The neighborhood he picks has a brick wall and wrought iron gate facing the street. To get to his house, you have to park in a lot down the street, and then walk down the block to the courtyard gate. The gate isn’t locked but it’s another layer of security - something that would slow down an attacker. Inside the gate is a cobblestone courtyard with Beech trees in the middle. There are five townhouses in the courtyard neighborhood, two on the right and two on the left, with another at the back.

Lloyd owns the inner property on the left side. He likes the location because he’s insulated from every possible angle. The gate protects the front and the courtyard access gives him a view of anyone approaching. Both sides are covered by the other row houses and the brick wall hiding the common area means no one can see much beyond the small gate. The large trees prevents overhead photos and the lack of a garage door further secures the location.

For decor, he paid a decorator to fix the place up. She went for a mix of antiques with modern touches, with a subtle nod towards costal styles in the color palette. The walls are a neutral white, to better showcase the eclectic artwork she chose for his home. She went with the traditional set of wingback chairs, a structured sectional sofa to anchor the room, and a jute rug in the living area. His coffee table is a simple design made of reclaimed elm wood and the end tables are mismatched. One table is made out of distressed gray wood and the other is polished brass.

The decorator gave him plants to tie it all together. He has a fig tree, a Japanese maple, and a ficus. There are potted plants in every room, and he loves how they liven up the place. Looking at them makes him feel like he’s at home. That’s in addition to the herb garden with mint, basil, chives, and tarragon, that she installed in his kitchen window. He has to admit, the herb garden is one of his favorite touches. He uses it almost every day.

The kitchen is thoroughly modern. It has a wide island down the middle and cabinets on both walls. The quartz countertops are durable and crafted to look like marble. Having lived in flats with marble counters in the past, Lloyd has no interest in getting the real thing. They’re too easily scarred. He has a farmhouse sink, with plenty of elbow room to peel potatoes and stack up dishes. On the end of the kitchen is his formal dining room with a table that, when extended, seats fifteen.

His bedroom has one of the best antique pieces in the house. The Italian Renaissance walnut headboard has hand carved Foliate Scrolls and a matching footboard. He has it restored and styles it with a green jacquard bedspread. The decorator finishes the look with antique tea tables for the nightstands, and places an overstuffed chair and a reading lamp in the corner. She installs a wall of floor-to-ceiling black out curtains to prevent the east facing windows from waking him up at dawn. On the windows themselves she adds bamboo shades to bring another texture to the space.

And despite his protests, the decorator puts more plants in the bedroom. Lloyd can’t help but leave them there even after she’s gone. They just… work. He’d never have put them there on his own but the morning sunshine makes the Christmas cactus bloom every three months and turns the climbing vine thing into the picture of health within days.

A year later, when it’s time to decorate the guest room and the sun porch, he re-hires the same woman. This time, he hands over his credit card and tells her to follow the same process she did the first time.

[mightyflamethrower]

Once, years ago, Milltown was a fishing village and a lumber town. There was a tribe of Natives just outside the city limits. Years went by and the place changed and grew. It never lost that western waterfront feeling though. Salt water and trees and a college. That’s what I have heard. I wasn’t born until 2010. Lou emerged into the kitchen in her current fave outfit. She looked a little like a scarecrow. Extremely distressed jeans, no hem just shreds. One of dad’s hoodies with some kind of hoohah printed on it about a tractor company, over a plaid man’s shirt and all covered in one of Mom’s weird fleece jackets. Shoes were Keds. OK. She had jammed her curls into a scrunchie hair thing, had on some vintage shades and was ready to go. I don’t scare easily so I was fine with it. I had on my battle dress uniform. Jeans, no holes. A big grey sweatshirt and over that a pea coat, old white trainers. Hair up in a ponytail. I stuffed four of those pink boiled eggs in my pockets. Ready to roll. I locked the back door, pulled the kitchen curtains closed. I glanced around. Home. Hm. Home is where the heart was. My sister and I passed out the front door. I turned and locked the door. I felt like something was changing. I was not sure why. Just shutting the door felt almost final. It was still early in the day, like ten AM. Grey clouds covered the sky. It had been raining during the night. No surprises there. Our lawn was a shaggy mess. No one bothered with lawns anymore. Down the walk. Past the mailbox. We almost never get any mail, but I looked just to make sure. Nothing. Just as we walked out onto the narrow two lane asphalt the sun broke through the clouds, brilliantly, like it does when you are used to the dim light of morning around here. The whole road shone golden. Surely a good sign. Down the golden road we must travel. “Turn your face to the sun.” Two miles is not very far to walk. We passed by our old neighbor’s houses. I recited each name as we came across their places. Erickson’s white house. No one lives there now. Steele’s red house. One old lady is still living there with her dog. She stays home. People bring her supplies. A few more places where we didn’t remember who had lived there. Overgrown lawns. Huge bushes near the houses and unpruned roses surrounded the houses where once people had lived and worked. We passed the Gustafsons two story brick house. The fruit trees had not been tended to for several years. Did I know that it was a gloomy scene? Maybe not really. It was the new normal. Lou piped up, “Jen, there is a dog following us.” Glancing back, I saw that she was correct! There was quite a big dog on the road behind us. He was not familiar to me. He stopped about twenty feet away when we stopped. He appeared to be a German Shepherd mix, mixed with some other really big kind of dog. He had a black muzzle and tan body and one ear up and one ear down. We used to call those Indian dogs because you would see them around the Reservation. The dog sat on the pavement watching me. They sense who is the boss, right? I squatted down on one knee and called to him. “Hey, Buddy, come here…” I noticed that his sides were thin, and his fur looked a bit messy. “Want an egg, Buddy?” I coaxed. I pulled one out of my pocket and started to peel it for him. That got his attention in a big way. He stood and approached 

slowly, tail waving. This was a big dog. He was taller than a regular German Shepherd. The pink eggshell bits lay scattered on the wet asphalt. The bright light of the sun was shining into his 

very aware looking brown eyes. I was not fearful of this big dog at all. He came to me then and took the egg. He didn’t mind the shell that I hadn’t peeled off yet. He put it on the road surface, looked up at me, then carefully ate it. I peeled him another egg then. I guessed that his name was Buddy now. I guessed we had a friend for now. Lou walked over and stood with us and patted his head. I did too. He seemed to like the attention. “OK, Buddy”, I said. “We have to keep going.” Lou smiled then, like I had not seen her smile in quite a long time.

Hi This Is LouJen was strutting along up there like she was on a mission from God. She had these long spidery legs like a boy. Her ponytail was almost swinging in complete circles! That’s how crazy she was. The sun was in my eyes, and I was hungry. She always said I was fat. She treated me like I was retarded. I was not fat, I had a waist and looked more like a woman than she did. Ha. You can’t believe everything she tells you!

Someone had trained Buddy. I wished I knew his real name. I bet it wasn’t Buddy. Hopefully not King or Rex. He stayed right at my left side. Sometimes he would stuff his big black muzzle in my hand, reassuringly. Sometimes he would glance back to make sure that Lou was still back there. He would stop and I would stop, and we would wait for her to catch up. I knew she didn’t like walking very much. She was a tired looking small figure in funny clothes. I loved her so much. Except for Buddy, she was it, all I had. We had to cross a bridge over the river, and it was pretty steep. Our trip into Milltown was because we had to pick up our funny money. The State gives unemployed people a little money. It doesn’t look real. It comes in little books. To use a bill, you tear it out of the book. If there is change due, we get it in old coins. They were still in circulation. There isn’t any record keeping really. We weren’t important enough to keep track of much. They hand these out at the Post Office. Our names were on a list. We could buy a few things to carry home then. The river is cleaner than it used to be. There was no industry left making it dirty. It was about thirty feet down to the water. Looking over, we could see one guy fishing a little upstream. I was not sure that I would want to eat whatever he was catching. I waved; Lou smiled. We didn’t see many young guys. Now the sidewalk began. Power poles and streetlights. Stapled onto one of the power poles was large sheet of red paper with the word “NO” spray painted on it, in white. We looked at each other and laughed. NO, what? Might have had something to do with the news yesterday. Next, we noticed stenciled words on the sidewalks. Somebody had been making a trail of these stencils. They said “Follow Me” in more white spray paint. We started to look for them all the way to the Post Office. On every block, there were two or three of these stenciled messages. Things were starting to get interesting. Who did this? The Post Office was one street over from Main. I went in and gave our names, leaving Lou outside leaning on the window, watching the street, hanging out with Buddy. Walking back out, I carefully put our little books of funny money in the inside pocket of my pea coat. Some Kind of Shopping Lou was tired, I could see that. She was crouched down, resting, and leaning on Buddy who braced, sitting under the load. “Come on you two, we have to go to the so called store”

pBird (aka kabukinoir@tumblr)

More to come.

[istherewifiinhell]

Look at my turtles boy

(turtle comics turtle comics turtles comics)

[images description and alt text is the same]

classic mirage comics! now with colours (hard to say how to feel abt them being coloured, also they only credit the studio who did it not individual artists. sad)

[Tales of TMNT #6 pencils by Jim Lawson, ink by Ryan Brown, colours by Digikore Design Limited.] Boxy chunky turtles with big cheeks/beaks, and have tails.

ID: Mikey (with a red mask) slumped against a brick wall, in a daze, cartoon stars over his head. END ID

and how do we tell Mikey apart when his weapons aren't visible? Well. O.o

[TMNT #45 Art by Dan Berger, Colours by Digikore Design Limited] Rounder turtles with the big beak/cheeks, defined eye ridges and no pupils for the most part. Art has heavy, textured inks. Collection of Mikey's where no matter the expression he's making one eye is bigger than the other.

ID: 1. Smiling saying "Wicked cool dudes! Let's party!" 2. Two panels where he has one of his brothers on his shoulders. He's whistling then says, "I'm starving! I sure could go for a... Taco!" 3. A small drawing, walking behind his brothers, arms open in a question saying "Are we almost there, Papa Smurf?" 4. Looking surprised saying "Awwww Party Poopers!" 5. Smiling wide, looking to the side, one arm up. 5. Smiling threateningly, gesturing to himself with one hand, and pointing out with the other. Saying "It's showtime!" 7. Looking concerned/nervous, thinking "Whoa. Heavy deja-vu. This is really strange" END ID

Bonus Donnie's <3

1. Scratching his head with his tongue out and thinking "If I insert an electro-magnetic repulsor-wave mechanism, I'll bet that..." 2. Leaning back from someone yelling at him and his brothers. Also doing the one small eye one large eye expression.

More recent turtles.

[TMNT Universe #6-9 Art by Brahm Revel] More Oval, smooth shapes, 3 toed turtles, with large carapaces. Art in warmer pinkish and purple skewed pallet, with blocks of black shadow.

ID: 1. Donnie, with a strapy belt, a shoulder bag, and many lense'd googles, jumping out a window away from enemies. 2. Mikey sitting on a park bench feeding birds at night. 3. Mikey bowing with one foot back and arms to the side. He's surrounded by downed enemy's and a person he saved, who looks scared of him. END ID

GIRL TURTLE? Can I offer u some fucking GIRL TURTLE.

[TMNT: Jennika II #1 "Monsters" Art by Brahm Revel] Round head lanky turtles, with big flat teeth. 3 toed again. Collection of Jennika's, a turtle with a yellow head band, hand and foot wraps, black pants, and a loose top that covers the front of her shell.

ID: 1. Jennika looking distressed, her hands out in a placating manner. She's saying "I'm sorry... I'll get the... Sorry!" 2. In an action pose, kicking a gun out of a bat mutants hand. She yells "Don't" and the bat mutant says "Ah!" There's a large "Bang!" sound effect by the gun. 3. Her eyes wide and mouth wobbly as she peeks over a roof saying "Jeez... This one's big!" 4. Two panels of her yelling at someone, gesturing emphatically to herself, and then the other person, as chaos unfolds in the background. END ID

FASHION TURTLES. behold their robes. just dont worry about the how of it so much... (-> deeply interested in the how of it)

[TMNT #116 (IDW) Art by Sophie Campbell, Colours Ronda Pattison] Round turtles with thick limbs and slight snout bumps. Various turtles in clothes.

ID: 1. Mikey opening a door and rushing into a room. His mask around his neck like a kerchief, in a grey sleeveless hoodie and ripped jeans. 2. Lita, a very young turtle with white scales and a pink mask tied in a bow. She wears a yellow tank top/dress with a star on it. 3. Donnie smiling pleasantly, hands in his pockets, and his mask around his neck like a scarf. He wears a red flannel with the sleeves rolled up and large patched beige pants. 4. Jennika in punk gear, black pants and shirt that are more rips than not, and a studded leather jacket. She wears her mask like a headband and has black eye makeup. END ID

Ohhh and bonus, April, this is a reference to "April's Ballad" from Coming out of Their Shell (sponsored by Pizza Hut). So, validation for doing that...

ID: April, with long curly red hair sits on a couch in an beat up apartment, singing "...They told me / You can count on us..." END ID

annnnnnnd two last Mikey cuties...

[TMNT #56 (IDW) Art by Mateus Santolouco Colours by Ronda Pattison] Smaller round turtles with snout bumps. They're wearing clear full head breathing apparatus with air tanks on their backs.

ID: 1. Mikey looks at Raph excited saying "Raph! Pirates with mutagen! Do ya think--". Raph cuts him a look saying "Shhh... Mikey! Don't interrupt!" 2. Mikey looking abashed, two pointer fingers together saying "Oh, yeah. Sorry, dude." END ID

Thus concludes the turtle look book (just kidding lol these were from two best of collections, 3-4 issues long. I have a full run massive multi volume hardcover to read too....)

[lapinlunaire-games]

Halloweek Day 5: Smoke | Halloweek Prompts

Necessary pragmatism and unfortunate desperation make Mina’s voice as coaxing as honey: “We’re near St. Anne’s, there’s a nurse there who can help you. Let me walk you there, you look deathly ill, Miss Dorrit.”

The thick, acrid smell of smoke clings to Mina’s hair and clothes as she winds through the streets of Limehouse, notes in hand. It’s been days since she went to the ruins of the Harlowe warehouse fire, but like the ink stains haunting her fingertips, it seems impossible to scrub out. Someone shoulders past her and Mina’s head snaps up, one hand surreptitiously going to the small sewn-in pocket concealing her coin purse. 

A figure across the street corner catches her eye—Mina squints at the woman’s soot-stained collar for a second before frantically shuffling through her notes. She’d taken down the missing victims’ descriptions…there, on the second page! She scans her shorthand, eyes widening, and takes off running without a second thought. 

The woman—Sarah Dorrit, thirty-one years of age, worker at the factory since 1864—seems to be wearing the same clothes from the day of the fire; her sleeves and the hem of her skirt are covered in ash, the fabric tattered and eaten away as though by flame. She peers at the building beside her as though she’s never seen it before and raises a hand to the bricks—just before she makes contact, Mina narrowly dodges a hackney cab and closes the final feet of distance between them.

“Miss Dorrit!”

She turns, brows knitting in confusion; when Mina calls her name again, Sarah Dorrit’s face morphs into utter shock. “How…” she breathes, but Mina interrupts before the other signs of “reporter reluctance,” as she’s come to term it, can set in. 

“Mina Qiu, for the Daily Star,” she begins, glossing over the little white omission that she hasn’t technically gotten approval (or funding) from the editor for this pitch. The trick is to speak confidently, without a swiftness that suggests nerves, and Mina has had little else to do but master it. “Could I offer you a spot of tea? I have a few questions about the fire at the Harlowe factory.”

Sarah’s face goes pale—so pale, Mina notes, that for an instant she seems transparent—and she says quickly, “I’m afraid that isn’t possible, Miss.”

Undeterred, Mina puts on a practised smile and lowers her voice, stepping to the side so she can speak to Sarah in relative privacy. “I assure you, I write discreetly. If it’s giving your name that worries you, anonymity can be arranged. You will be in no danger from speaking to me.”

A wry look breaks over Sarah’s features. “I fear no mortal danger.”

Mina pauses, pen in hand. “I…find that commendable. What wa—” She breaks off as Sarah’s gaze drifts over the buildings, bewilderment glazing the woman’s face. 

“Do you know where you are, Miss Dorrit?” asks Mina slowly, nudging the distracted woman into a quieter corner along the boarding house overlooking the street. “We’re in Limehouse, near the Dock.”

Sarah’s eyes meander back to Mina, her brow furrowing as she processes the words. “The Regent’s Canal Dock?” At Mina’s nod, Sarah purses her lips and looks down at her hands, seemingly stymied by a persistent smear of ash stretching along the knuckles of her right hand.

“Do you remember how you got here, or why?” Mina attempts. “The factory is quite a ways away. You’ve been registered as missing for nearly four days.”

Sarah narrows her eyes at her trembling hands. “I…I don’t know. Why am I here?”

Mina’s careful smile falters. Sarah’s voice careens upwards in distress, eyes widening as she yanks frantically at her clothing.

Questions forgotten, Mina reaches out a steadying hand—only to pull back as if shocked. The air around Sarah’s body is bitterly cold, as though her flesh is made of ice. The grey circles under Sarah’s eyes turn into gaunt lines and that translucent paleness returns; Mina blinks rapidly, clenching the nails of one hand into her palm to dispel the something that must be fogging her vision—fatigue? Fatigue it must be, rent is due at the week’s end and the shillings in her purse jangle lonelier each day—and makes her decision. 

Necessary pragmatism and unfortunate desperation make Mina’s voice as coaxing as honey: “We’re near St. Anne’s, there’s a nurse there who can help you. Let me walk you there, you look deathly ill, Miss Dorrit.”

Sarah laughs roughly, her face flickering back to full flesh for a dizzying moment. “That’s clever, very clever.” She sways slightly, though her weight topples as though her body has forgotten how its joints work.

Mina’s face pinches into the best approximation of comfort she can assemble as she reaches for Sarah’s hand, but the freezing sensation proves too much for her, and she turns away to steel herself under the guise of checking for a clear path across the street.

Jaw set valiantly and courage mustered, Mina turns and thrusts her hand forward for the icy, trembling one of her mark. 

Her fingers close on empty, sullen air. Sarah Dorrit is gone.

[vlantar]

I posted 267 times in 2022

That's 60 more posts than 2021!

11 posts created (4%)

256 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@maeraevokaya

@nonbinaryvulcan

@nervousspacerobot

@springmagpies

@xspuhurax

I tagged 258 of my posts in 2022

Only 3% of my posts had no tags

#star trek - 75 posts

#lmao - 68 posts

#spock - 44 posts

#schn tgai spock - 42 posts

#nyota uhura - 37 posts

#spuhura - 31 posts

#aos - 28 posts

#benvi - 27 posts

#ben gross - 26 posts

#never have i ever spoilers - 26 posts

Longest Tag: 91 characters

#literally the number of times ive pressed that damned button on multiple separate occasions

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Don't reblog. Take a screenshot and upload it, but tag your OTPs.

4 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

#4

So what’s up with (SNW) Spock’s side burns???

See the full post

39 notes - Posted July 26, 2022

#3

I can’t wait for all the Benvi gifsets and fanvids, y’all. So excited!

59 notes - Posted August 12, 2022

#2

Hello, noticed you ship spock/uhura from the trek series, i was going to ask have you seen the new show strange new worlds and what are your thoughts about the uhura and the casting. please feel free to be honest. i personally think she is totally miscast and looks like a masculine man and they have downgraded uhura on the show so she is no threat to anyone, reason why the uhura in snw is presented as a very ugly masculine teenager. however if u voice that opinion you are called racist and sexist. i hope all uhura fans can begin to speak out more and be honest about uhura in strange new worlds

Yes, I have seen strange new worlds.

And, I'll be honest, I think Celia is an incredible cast for the role. They're an outspoken person with progressive morals who absolutely fits the legacy of Uhura as a character and the importance of Uhura as someone who challenges the social norms of the time.

As for looking like a "masculine man", I completely disagree. Snw Uhura's gender expression may challenge your perceptions of feminity, but I don't believe she's any less feminine in snw than in other series. She dresses in the "feminine" active duty uniform, wears stereotypically feminine accessories and dons a haircut that, as I've read and witnessed, is extremely popular among the black feminine community (as I white guy, I don't believe I have any right to speak to that authentically, however). A character could not be considered more "typically" feminine unless she adhered to the demeaning and misogynistic tropes of the twentieth century and earlier--such tropes might include "damsel in distress", "all she wants in life is to marry and have kids", "knows nothing/dense as a brick", etc.

I don't see how Uhura is and/or isn't a threat to anyone. And she certainly hasn't been "downgraded" in any way. Although we haven't much character development for her so far in snw, she's at least been given more of a backstory than in any previous series (albeit, it is a very typical family trauma trope, which is a little uncreative, imo). In the second episode, she expresses uncertainty as to her capabilities and her posting, then proceeds to save the day (demonstrating her genuine skill and intelligence and her importance and power as a character, independent of her womanhood). She is young, I'll give you that, but she's no teenager (especially not when compared to Wesley Crusher in tng) and she may have expressed insecurities, but this is to be expected of a fresh (or near fresh, idk) academy graduate who's been awarded an extremely prestigious posting. I would think it a little unrealistic were she not at least a little uncomfortable with her position, no matter how much she has worked for and earnt the position. This, in no way, diminishes her character, it only adds to her authentic characterisation if anything.

Lastly, she's not ugly. She's not at all ugly. She's gorgeous! Have you taken a look at the woman? She's a fashion sense and a beautiful array of facial expressions. And, separate from the character, Celia, too, is a splendid sight. They appear frequently happy, wear incredible outfits and speak out about what they believe in. What could be more beautiful? Though, of course, I understand that beauty is subjective. But to call her "a very ugly masculine teenager" is incredibly minimalising of Uhura as a character and of Celia as a person. To not at least appreciate her style and effort or, at least, respect her with human decency- Would you tell someone to their face that they're "a very ugly masculine teenager"? I reckon not.

I, in no way, mean to label you as "racist and sexist", as your experience with those of my opinion might suggest, though I do believe you should reconsider your perceptions of feminity and of gender expression. Perhaps, you may benefit from a more open mind toward such matters or, simply, a more progressive mindset. If both are too challenging, at least live by the maxim "live and let live" and not judge her for her appearance. To not do so is plain rude and disrespectful.

68 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

“What if nobody ever loves me? ‘Cause I’m always too much?”

Bruh, Ben’d die if he heard her say that.

1,784 notes - Posted August 12, 2022

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