#🐯-ti

[gaarasone]

Eu tô 🌬🌅da, nem 🍅🧀 na 🏠 🧀 Eu 🐯😋 que 💨rrumar

[worstsequence]

sometimes im like. peach hates me (kicks tin can with my big goofy shoes) but then i walk the loop in the opposite direction as her and my parents and when she notices me crest over the hill she is so excited and trying to get to me but shes contained by leash and im contained by walking up hill slowly falling over myself like the people who couldnt get past the tunnel phase of the hunters exam in hxh because my bottom teeth and the underneath my tongue hurt immensely.

[lawyer-fatale]

I remember a bit ago someone made freezeria tickets for f/o's and I decided to make some for my main ones

[pathbend-blog]

[qqtxt]

[🐯] windflowers brought me back to you

✿ pairing: beomgyu x reader / idol!txt / non.idol!you / exes-to-lovers (kind of) / very angsty in the beginning but fluff at the end / 8,915 words ✿ disclaimer: cursing and foul language / heavy emotions and insecurities / mentions of food and eating / clichè romantic trope / reader is friends with the other members / reader calls beomgyu ‘gyu’ / the timeline kind of follows their act:lovesick tour / jokes of death in a playful manner / txt members acting like cupids (not them trying to fix your relationship with gyu) ✿ you thought the day that beomgyu broke up with you was the day he had let go of the love he had for you; little did you know, he carried his love for you throughout his tour and came back to fix his mistake. ✿ 🎧: windflower by mamamoo (lofi remix by karma)

note: hi 👉👈 i know i literally dropped off the face of the earth but honestly, life has been a handful but i’m slowly writing things in the drafts and this is one that was sitting on the shelf for a while that i didn’t know how to feel about it so, i’m sending it off the shelf! merry x’mas, lovelies and hope you are all safe and well! 💖

[masterlist 🌸] / @kflixnet​​ ✨

it was a normal day today; it would’ve been, it should’ve been. peace, quiet... the lingering embedded pain in your heart every time your phone receives a notification and you know you’re not going to see a familiar name showing up. at this point, it’s been months. you should move on by now; maybe you were, in some twisted way your heart was healing each time his name rang in your mind and you tried not to show any emotion–cruel, but it was the only way you’d cope. it was progress, one day at a time, slowly, his face will dissolve, his name won’t hurt you when you hear it, and maybe you’ll man up to delete all traces of him from your life.

today, however, that name you’ve been longing for shows up in person by your door–and he only hopes that you still long to see him as he lifts his head up to look at you–all your efforts be damned.

choi beomgyu, who decided to let you go–days before he went on tour–was standing in front of you. the tour merely ended days ago and he had returned home. the first place he was determined to go was wherever you were.

the sight alone is what makes you wonder if this was some sort of cruel hallucination. it doesn’t feel real, let alone look like it. your chest feels like it’s contracting on you; restricting you from breathing right the longer you process what’s happening. why isn’t this going away? when will it disappear? what the fuck is going on? is this a nightmare? no... is this a dream? whatever it was, it was hurting you; it was scaring you, you’re shaking, you still–stay still, for fuck’s sake, don’t move–still can’t breathe.

“y/n.”

oh my god.

it fucking talks.

it makes you instinctively shift back, one step, two, your hand still gripping the door handle. if this was some sort of apparition, you want absolutely no part in. beomgyu licks his lips, well aware and prepared for you to slam the door in his face... but the longer you wait... the more he feels like there’s a chance.

a chance that you hadn’t banished him completely. that maybe somewhere, in your heart, he’s still in there.

he slowly reaches out with one hand, carefully, as if he’s afraid you’d dash off if he had moved any quicker. when his hand touches the side of your arm, a gentle squeeze as his fingers manage to have a hold on you, it reaffirms to you that this is real–that this isn’t some sort of sadistic mockery from up above but it just may be a commentary coming from hell itself with how ironic this all was. the one who decided to end things and cut ties with you shows up at your door, under your mercy, looking afraid of you.

as if the nights you spent crying wondering what went wrong didn’t matter. as if you didn’t suffocate yourself to sleep in the tears of thinking if it was all your fault, if you weren’t good enough, beautiful enough, not nearly enticing as the people day in and day out of the industry he works in. as if... you didn’t wish things ended differently if only you had the chance to make things right. as if he didn’t just disappear the second he broke your heart.

your head robotically manages to look down to the side where his hand is twitching as he has a hold on you. it feels like it’s barely there but the longer you stare; the veins and the tremble of his hand, it all confirms to you that it’s real. you don’t move a muscle as your eyes look back to him. the silence is your welcoming friend when beomgyu’s lips quiver as they part to speak, yet no words come out. 

you find the strength to grip his wrist and push his hand off of you. you would’ve been quicker, stronger, if it wasn’t the way he holds onto your hand before you can shove him off entirely. it scares you, so much that your eyes snap shut to the unknown. in the midst of seeing the pitch black, the scarring image of his face still flashes beneath your eyelids. you hate how your stomach still churns at the sight of his face; how handsomely painful it was to swallow it.

his hold on you is tight, desperate... anxious. his hand... feels exactly like they way they were when he last held onto you. his slender fingers find their way to hold yours properly, feeling palm-to-palm. not even when you try to shake him off does he let go; he holds on tighter.

he takes a step closer, stopping when your eyes peel open and he gapes when the tears start to fall from your eyes. his lungs feel like they’re failing him; contracting, shrinking on him when he needs to breathe the most. ten seconds; it was only ten seconds that he stares at you in the midst of heavy breathing and his eyes start to water. hot tears stinging his eyes but he stubbornly holds his gaze on you.

just what on earth was he doing?

you’d be surprise that beomgyu was wondering the same thing.

where does beomgyu begin? ten seconds, with ten fleeting thoughts that rapidly thread through his mind. one, you look beautiful. two, you still, always, breathtakingly look beautiful–as if the months had done nothing but polish the imagery he had of you in his mind. three, i miss you. four, i miss kissing you. five, i’m sorry. six, i’m sorry. seven–ten, i’m sorry.

“i’m sorry,” is the first thing you hear him say under a whispered breath.

shaking; the syllables trembling to get past his lips.

the soft sound of surprise, choking from your tears, echoes into his ears like a stab to the chest. you’re squeezing his hand, so hard that it feels like it’s starting to dig into his skin, clenching to his bone but he deserves it. he deserves all the pain willing to lift from how much he’s hurt you.

the piercing glare he’s met with almost makes him break but he refuses to let go of your hand. it feels like the only leverage he has on you to make sure he doesn’t let you go. let you go. how truly, ironically idiotic. another step closer and you can feel his breath ghosting your skin. he’s already making you cry without saying anything and upon hearing his voice for the first time in four months makes your heart shatter.

“what do you want from me?” your whisper is broken, so soft that it can barely be heard but it cuts straight through beomgyu’s ears, aiming to strike a chord in his heart.

“y-you.”

the answer was simple, yet the most difficult to say.

the silence soon gets filled with the sounds of you crying and you trying to stop yourself from crying. it’s ugly, painful, and no matter how many hits to the chest beomgyu takes, he’s taking it all rightfully so. you grow tired, weak, unable to hold yourself up that beomgyu has his arms around you and he knows. he knows that he’s trying to be as close to you not for your sake but for his.

your presence was all he ever dreamed of since the day he said goodbye.

and now that he’s here at your doorstep, as selfish as it may seem, he doesn’t want to say goodbye.

beomgyu slowly shifts you back into your home when you don’t say anything. hell, you’re not even looking at him. your hands are glued to your sides, stubbornly staying there as he calculates his movements to close the door behind him. when he turns back around, he sees how you’ve moved to sit on the sofa, sitting crossed-legged with your feet folded between your thighs and you hug a pillow.

he swallows thickly and feels his hands getting all clammy. the fact the he’s in here speaks volumes but it doesn’t guarantee anything just yet. he makes his way towards you and kneels before you, sitting on his heels, peering up to you with a small frown. he keeps one hand on his lap, the other reaching out to touch your knee.

it seems like that captures your attention when you gaze down to his hand on you and–and...–”oh... oh my god,” you gasp, pulling out the ring from the box, adoring the simplistic but shining silver band with the engraving of his initials. “it’s so pretty!”

he chuckles and reveals his hand behind his back, making you grow wide-eyed at the similar ring he’s wearing on his middle finger–ignoring the way he’s flipping you off playfully–that you grab for his hand to see how your initials are on the ring he’s wearing. it was your one year anniversary and you’re certain he’s not proposing but it’s the sentiment that gets to you. you feel the tears filling your eyes and–he slips on the ring onto your middle finger, now laughing when you flip him off in return.

he snatches your hand and kisses your knuckles, shaking his head, “augh, such a cheeky little thing you are.”

“takes one to know one, you brat.”...–your eyes scan the initials imprinted on the ring he’s still wearing. it reminds you of the ring you shoved back into the box and in the deepest part of your closet... but the scarring memory of where it is is imprinted to your brain.

beomgyu was prepared for anything–but nothing can prepare him for the way you uncross your arms hugging the pillow to trace the engraving on his ring. it’s as if you’re in disbelief he’s still wearing it and it pains him. it pains him how sad you looked; as if he wasn’t the root of the cause to begin with.

he builds up the courage to speak when your hand goes back to hugging yourself, this time staring at a spot on his shoulder rather than outside the window.

“i never took it off,” he begins, clearing his throat when your eyes flicker up to meet his gaze. he notices a shift in your eyes when you notice that he’s crying, quietly, still trying to remain strong and tall to get his thoughts out. “i... i never stopped loving you. you’re–you were all i ever wanted to be with. still are.”

“it doesn’t make any fucking sense,” is the full coherent sentence you’re saying. it makes his gut drop to his stomach, his mouth going dry. “you broke up with me,” your voice is soft; a mere whisper. but it cuts through the thick tension; straight jabbing him through the chest. “you left me.”

he licks his lips as he shifts up, on his knees as he squeezes your kneecap, “y/n, please let me exp–”

“you don’t have to explain anything,” you move your knee to let his hand slip away, now keeping your knees in front of you like a shield from him, “you told me you didn’t love me anymore. told me you never wanted to see me again...” 

he shakes his head at your words, trying to get a look of your face when you hang your head low, refusing to look at him as you hid behind your knees, “so why the fuck are you here?”

that gets him to sit back on his heels in defeat. he lowers his head to his lap. beomgyu has one hand on the armrest next to you, the other holding onto the cushion on your other side. at the lack of his response, you peek from over your knees to see how he tries to muster up a reply. and when it does come, you find yourself getting angry.

“i thought it was the best for you. i... you didn’t deserve a love like this,” his voice shakes as he speaks, “you deserve to have someone by your side. day by day–everyday. giving you the love you deserve and–”he gets choked up with his words, to the point it’s making it hard for you to breathe. you hated it. you hate how you believe every word he’s saying even if it’s making your heart break and again all over again.

“i thought you were better off with someone else other than me.”

you clutch onto the pillow close to your chest, sitting up a little until your eyes are aligning with his eyes the second he tips his chin up. tears falling from his eyes, your eyes; both crying, like miserable, broken faucets.

“have you ever thought to ask me?”

it was a simple question; yet the hardest for beomgyu to comprehend.

“have you ever wondered what it was like from my point of view? seeing you smiling on stage as if nothing happened to us. days of wondering of what went wrong, months of unable to put together why all of the sudden the one person who promised he won’t leave me, left?” you’re surprised you’re speaking without losing a train of thought. but you guess that’s what anger does to you when you feel your veins being set ablaze. the anger, the frustration, the pain; it all bottled up and now it was your chance to vent it out to the source of your suffering.

“i thought about you everyday,” he tries to defend himself, straightening his back, “i keep thinking of you. when i’m awake, when i’m asleep,” he gulps, brows meeting the centre of his forehead at how serious he sounds, “i miss you,” he whispers, “i’ve missed you so much–”he gasps softly when he tries to reach for you and you move away from him, dodging his touch trying to reach your knee. 

“you don’t get to do this to me,” your words hit him; hard enough to get him to rise to his feet when you start to move away from him. you manage to stand, ditching the pillow with your mind pinning your bedroom as your destination to get away from him. the blood boiling from within is making the words fly out of your mouth before you can hold them back. maybe you’ll come to regret it later or maybe you won’t. in the heat of the moment–right fucking now–nothing else mattered.

“you don’t get to leave and decide when to show up promising me the moon and the stars and in the next, make life a living hell for me,” you’re now talking to the wind, to the hallway of your home because it was easier to vent that way than saying it to his face. stubbornly refusing to look at him as you trudge your way to the bedroom. based on the footsteps, the brush of his fingertips against your lower back, you can tell he’s following you closely.

your hand pushes the bedroom door open and you’re turning around in attempts to shut him out but you should’ve known better. should’ve known that your heart would grow weak at the sight of him; more so when he’s crying, begging with his eyes even if he doesn’t know he’s doing it subconsciously. his eyes have nearly gone red, much like yours but you always, always feel the hurt he feels even when you shouldn’t. 

he holds onto your shoulders to stop you from closing the door as he steps in; to your room, to your personal space, to you.

“i’m sorry,” he says, licking his lips to taste the saltiness of his own tears tearing him down, “i’m so sorry,” his voice is softer this time, a weak whisper, a broken plea.

then he leans his forehead on you and it breaks you for the second time when you start crying again. he anchors you with a hand on your shoulder, the other reaching up to wipe the tears falling from your eyes.

“i-i can’t take back what i did. i can’t fucking rewind time but i can do better now. i promise,” he sniffs, shaking his forehead against yours, “p-please...” he begs, “please give me a second chance.”

for a split second, beomgyu’s heart stops when you blink up to him; past the tears, past the horrible struggle to breathe. the hammering in his head stops thumping to hear you sob a broken you didn’t even let me say goodbye.

beomgyu’s eyes shut as shifts his hands to pull you into his embrace; feeling his heart clench at the sounds of you crying and shaking against him. the consequences of his rash actions are being paid with each tear, each cry you let out that it scars his heart. and he knows it. slept with it every night, haunting him when the daylight comes through and the first imagery that comes to mind is the smile on your face he’s taken away. with a hand cradling the back of your head to the space between his neck and shoulder, the other clutching you by the waist to feel all of you. as if he doesn’t want to wake up if this was some sick, twisted dream; a beautiful nightmare, a bittersweet hallucination.

“you’ve hurt me so much,” your words are muffled to his skin, as he feels your tears burning his skin but he stubbornly holds on, nodding against the side of your head as he whispers: “i’m sorry.”

“i hate you,” you don’t mean that.

“i want to hate you,” and you have every right to.

“but i can’t,” beomgyu feels your arms weakly hugging him, then it shifts to a tighter grip as you pull him close. if this was a dream, you wouldn’t want to wake up from it, either. he exhales shakily as he feels your arms around him, welcoming him back home even if he knows he doesn’t deserve it but he’ll prove it. from the moment he saw you today, from the days building up to this moment; in every waking moment since he’s made a decision he’s regretted, he promised himself he’ll make it up to you.

it could be days, weeks, maybe months, but beomgyu wants to work for it.

for you, for us.

“i’m sorry,” he murmurs into your ears once more, and this time he feels you nodding into his shoulder with a croaky i know.

“i love you,” he tries his luck, even when he knows it’s too much to ask for.

he doesn’t get a reply, but he doesn’t need to when you simply snuggle into him and give his waist a squeeze. that... this was enough.

being in your arms, being home... this is love.

//

love itself isn’t easy and beomgyu knows that getting your forgiveness isn’t something that’s just granted. sure, the two of you fell asleep on the same bed that night, granting him to hug you and cocoon you from the pain he’s caused embedded in your chest but it wasn’t something you could forgive right away.

to be honest, as you woke up in the middle of the night and saw his face so close to you, it didn’t feel like you needed to forgive him for what he had done. an apology wasn’t something you were looking for; not when he was away, not when he’s here... perhaps... perhaps it was the reassurance that he truly did love you during the time apart; during the days and nights you spent wondering if your love was real... maybe that was the thing you needed the puzzle pieces for.

and it’s not something he can just say, that would be impossible.

it was hard. you love him, that much you know. he says he loves you but... that doesn’t feel like it when the doubts start to cloud your mind. not when you had accepted the fact that your love with beomgyu wasn’t meant to be; not when you’ve finally tried to remove him from your heart, only for him to stem his presence back in the deepest crevice you can’t seem to get rid of.

//

beomgyu wakes up to emptiness that morning and he pads out of your bedroom to see you preparing breakfast. even though all he wants to do is stride up to you to hug you, there’s something in the air of eggs and bacon that tells him not to... so he doesn’t. he asks if you need help instead to announce his presence and you tell him that he can help with getting the table ready and pour whatever juice he wants.

breakfast was eaten in silence but in the tension lighter than the day before. he feels his heart in a chokehold when you clear your throat and he looks up to this expression on your face he can’t piece together. he gulps the orange juice down and reaches across the table when he sees your fingers trembling as you hold onto your cup. 

he makes you set the cup down and then he holds onto your hand. gently, reassuring you that you can say whatever’s on your mind because even though you two have been apart for months, once upon a time, beomgyu could read you like the back of his hand... maybe some information are out of date but he knows your body language. he still remembers the things about you to know you had something on your mind but was too nervous to speak.

“i... still love you,” your confession is soft but it was certain. beomgyu heard it and you know he did when he involuntarily squeezes your hand as an acknowledgement. “t-that much i know but... i need time...”

you swallow and look up, meeting his gaze with glazed eyes, “i took so long to heal from us,” you can feel your own breath wavering and you try to swallow it down but it doesn’t seem to work when you feel your eyes start to burn. “f-from you... the last thing i expected is you showing up on my door to tell me you still love me when i spent days convincing myself you never did.”

beomgyu’s mouth opens to retort, to tell you that you’re wrong, that you should’ve never felt anything of that sort but... succumbs to the fact that he can’t change anything you’ve felt in the past; during the time of his absence. your feelings were valid and they are real in his eyes as he witnesses more of the result of what he’s done. quietly, he seals his lips together and nods.

“i just need some time to clear my head and... and...” beomgyu hates the crack in your voice when the emotions get the best of you. 

“hey, no no no,” he quickly rises from his seat and lets go of your hand. his eyes watches how you’re wrapping yourself up, trying to hide yourself but he’s crouching before you. his hands carefully peel you open so you can lean into his embrace as he lures you to bend from your seat, entering his arms as he slots your face to his neck; the tears trickle down his skin as he holds you closely. 

it solidifies to him that he’ll need to respect your decision to give you the space you need until you’re ready to see him again... until you’re ready to love him again.

//

three days.

going to work eased the nerves, gave you some time out from overthinking about the questions you can’t get the answers to. you don’t even know what questions you had. you quite literally don’t know what you don’t know. it was confusing, frustrating... suffocating. it’s a bit lighter and bearable when you are on speaking terms with beomgyu despite him giving you your space. before he left the morning after you two reconciled, he asked if he could contact you during this time and you had agreed. that much you can give him, that much you know you can handle.

apart from the good morning’s and the sweet dreams’... everything in between felt like a blur. you two could still converse like you used to but you’ll be honest to admit that something doesn’t feel quite right. like something was missing... maybe it was trust? you weren’t sure if you trust him, if you could wholeheartedly trust him when he says he loves you.

you enter the quiet of your apartment and set your bag down. work has been idle, so it granted you some extra time to try to clear your mind but not without anything to do. as you switch on the television for some white noise, the knock on the door is what makes you jolt at the sound that resonates your home.

carefully, you pad your way over and take a look at the peephole, noticing a familiar looking face and–”y/n!”

“oh?” your eyes widen, gaping at the face smiling at you so widely.

“augh, don’t tell me you forgot us already!” soobin chuckles, spreading his arms out and you’re raising a brow at the word ‘us’ but you step into his arms regardess, peering over his shoulder to–”k-kai?”

“this is ridiculous,” soobin scoffs a laugh, squeezing the life out of you that you squeak a garbled: “s-sorry, sorry! i just–soobin, i can’t breathe!”

“hyung!” kai huffs, prying his arms from your figure. that grants the latter to cheekily pull you into his arms.

"ugh, hug stealer...” soobin mutters under his breath, patting kai’s shoulder when the younger boy clings onto you like a koala, now dragging you back in to your own home. they quickly settle in as if they live here, knowing where everything is from the layout to where you keep your cups you use to make tea and then making tea with what you have. they move like clockwork; soobin putting the water to boil and kai making you sit on the kitchen counter and you watch them.

kai occupies one of the stools you have by the island and soobin leans his hip against the kitchen sink as they both watch you fiddle with your fingers on your lap, legs dangling against the kitchen cabinets behind your feet.

“i... i’m sorry,” are the first words you say to them after a while.

soobin gapes, shaking his head, “h-hey, we didn’t come here for that...”

kai frowns as he hunches over the island with folded arms, a similar expression with soobin. being together with beomgyu meant that you were introduced to the circle of people he surrounds himself almost everyday. if beomgyu wasn’t here with you, he’s back in the dorm with them so it was a matter of time that you all slowly spend time together. and it happened so naturally that you forget that beomgyu’s the reason why you know the rest of the boys in the first place. you get along with all of them but for some reason, you gravitated towards soobin... who drags along kai just because.

it was hard to keep in contact with them when you know they’re with the source of why you were hurting during your break-up. seeing them felt the same like seeing beomgyu; it reminded you too much of him that you shut all of them out. taking advantage of the fact that they were away on tour meant blocking them on any social media platform and on your phone gave you the power to control what can hurt you and what can’t. and it can’t hurt you if you can’t see it. at least, what’s what you told yourself the second you started to dessert your phone and soon, all five of them are on your blocked list.

“i know but,” you offer them a small smile, “i’m sorry.”

soobin and kai keep quiet, returning your smile that slowly fades when you continue to speak.

“when things ended between me and gyu... it was hard to see you guys, let alone talk to you even if it was on text so i...”

“blocked us?” kai auto-fills, not with any malice but simply for the act of trying to help you. soobin hisses with a narrowed look he shoots at the younger, “huening!”

“what? i was just trying to help!”

“yeah,” you snort, now looking at your hands on your lap, “i didn’t know what else to do and i most certainly knew i couldn’t talk to you guys in the right headspace so i just did what felt right in the moment,” you glance up to see they’re both still staring that you shyly lower your eyes, “again, i’m sorry.”

“will you stop apologizing?” soobin huffs, crossing his arms and tilting his head at you. “we didn’t come here for an apology. we came here to check on our friend.”

with pressed lips, you nod. 

then, curiosity takes over.

“did... did you guys know?”

both of them shake their head.

“he only told us after our show in chicago,” kai answers, now resting his chin in his palm. “then we all tried reaching out to you but–”

“huening, oh my god,” soobin chastises, to which kai rolls his eyes, “how else am i supposed to say it?!”

“oh i don’t know, maybe with a bit more sense?”

“you have no sense!”

the two of them only stop bickering when they hear you laugh, clearly enjoying the way they can still act how they did months before they left, as if nothing has changed and... the words slip out of your mouth: “you guys are still the same old idiots.”

three laughters now intertwining, filling the kitchen. slowly, however, the hilarity subsides, and soobin’s the first to break the silence.

“that applies for beomgyu too, you know?” beomgyu never stopped loving you.

you meet with soobin’s eyes and even when you don’t say anything, soobin can feel the sadness in your eyes especially when you look away. the disbelief evident, the betrayal still running in your veins, in your every waking thought.

“hyung never stopped loving you,” kai tries to help, “even on tour, he keeps writing these cheesy lines–”kai’s voice is cut short when soobin lets out a sound, a mix of a yelp and a tsk that it gets lost in translation. that’s not what gets kai to stop, though. what does is the way you quietly plead with a soft don’t.

“i-if you guys truly meant it when you said you came here as my friends, then please just come here as that,” they only notice you’re about to cry when your voice wavers, eyes still avoiding them. you hop off the kitchen counter, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand when you feel the tears incoming, “d-don’t come here to fix a mistake that someone else made.”

they can’t respond when you mutter a soft be right back and scurry off to the bathroom; closing and locking the door after. the two boys almost get into an argument on whose fault it is but decided against it when the water boils. they instead prepare instant ramen and cups of tea, waiting for you in the living room as they circle the coffee table.

when you return to the sight, on cue, both of their arms wave out a ta da! that it makes it difficult to stay mad at them. whether you knew them through beomgyu or not, they truly did care about you and that much was evident.

the three of you ate for the first time in a long time that night. all smiles; filling in each other on the ins and outs, the whats and all about. they stuck to their word. being there with you as friends; not a peep about beomgyu.

you were able to sleep well that night.

//

the next day, your daily routine continues from morning of leaving to work until the time you return. you’ve done the same cycle that sometimes you’re on autopilot; getting to work, clocking in, heading to your cubicle, seeing what you need to do throughout the day, grab lunch, then a snack, after that continue to work until you can clock out. today is no different... except when you reach home, there’s a guy standing outside your apartment complex.

just as you walk past and intend to scan yourself in, a voice breaks you away from what you were about to do–”yah... it’s only been a few months and now you don’t know me anymore?"

you look over your shoulder to the source of the voice, squinting your eyes when he’s clad in a black cap, leather jacket and black jeans–he might as well be a shadow for all you know. he tips his chin up and lifts his cap to let you get a good glimpse of his eyes. the glow of the lamppost illuminating his features for you to see that it’s–”jun...”

he gives you a small wave with that gummy smile of his.

“long time no see.”

//

"funny,” he starts off, “it feels like you broke up with all of us,” yeonjun says, his voice reaching you softly but surely in the quiet of the night. from your apartment, you obliged when he asked you to walk with me? and you can’t reject him when he came all the way from his dorm, probably after practice just to see you. he offered his arm for the taking, allowing you to link arms and he steals your bag to hold as the two of you mindlessly made your way to a park nearby.

that’s how you two ended up on a bench.

“it does feel that way,” you chuckle, shaking your head. you glance at him, seeing how he does the same when he senses you doing so, “i miss you guys, though.”

“feeling’s mutual.”

a shared sigh.

“i just couldn’t bring myself to–”

“you don’t have to explain yourself,” he cuts you off, letting out a soft tsk after. “we understand. i understand. i would’ve done the same thing if i were you. hell, i bet beoms would’ve done it way faster if he was in your shoes.”

“still keeping up with spreading the slander, huh?”

"it’s the only reason for my existence,” he winks at you, earning himself a laugh from you. the beautiful thing about yeonjun and beomgyu’s friendship beyond their group was how they had this playful banter. beneath that, there’s this root of respect and protection they have for one another, even if it may seem absolutely manic at times.

“i heard soobin and kai met up with you the other day,”

“yeah... it was nice seeing them,” you lightly bump shoulders with him, “nice seeing you too.”

he scoffs a laugh, “duh, don’t need to tell me that.”

“augh, cocky,” you snort, crossing your arms.

he makes a sound like he’s offended, hand to his chest. the two of you glance at each other and share a laugh... but you’re not stupid. you know yeonjun’s here for another reason and it’s clear when he pulls out something from his sling bag. a book, one that looks familiar and–”here,” he places it on your lap, then he puts his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

unfolding your arms, you hold onto the book, noticing the name choi beomgyu scribbled on the cover; like some high-schooler’s notebook. you eye it curiously but break away from it to look at yeonjun, who refuses to look at you.

“i found it in my bag when i clearing out my luggage and... i figured you should have a look. return it to him when you’re done, okay?”

he sees your hesitance, especially when you try to give it back but he makes you hold onto it, giving you a couple of nods of reassurance.

“what’s worse than what you’ve already went through?”

well... he wasn’t wrong.

“shall we go get ramen?” is the next thing he asks, as if he didn’t just give you a bomb to diffuse on your own. “i think there was a convenience store nearby, right? down the block?”

yeonjun turns to look at you when he doesn’t hear a response and tries not to laugh at your expression, the mix between what the fuck? and what is wrong with you? nevertheless, you shove the book in your bag and get up. then, you start walking, to which he gets up hastily to match your pace with a grin when–”you’re paying!”

//

curiosity gets the best of you that night.

you’ve showered, clad in just a shirt and shorts as you sit on the bed, blanket to your hip with the book on your lap. with shaky fingers, you open it and initially, it doesn’t make any sense... until the more you read, the more you can decipher the words and the dates that correspond with the time during your break with beomgyu.

they’re lyrics.

something kai said a couple of days ago echo in your mind: hyung never stopped loving you. even on tour, he keeps writing these cheesy lines–

you don’t process them as lyrics when the memories flicker through like a film in a rose-tinted film. the first time he asked you out, under a dingy lamppost near your apartment. the day you two kissed at the park underneath a tree in the middle of the night. one of the worst argument you had when you found out he was leaving for tour not from him, but from soobin. it felt like a domino chain of one memory after another, you barely make it halfway to realise yeonjun’s intentions of making you read this.

not for your artistic visions of approving beomgyu’s lyrics, but for recognising that you’re all he writes about during a time you thought he didn’t love you anymore. his feelings bare on the pages, bleeding through the ink of his pen as he writes about the insecurities of not being able to fulfil a partner’s wishes when he’s not even here most of time. how could i compare to someone else when i’m not even there? i’m like a ghost, your ghost, wandering and searching for your love, wondering when you’ll leave me when you know it’s easier to do it when i’m not around.

the realisation is relieving as it is painful. painfully overwhelming. you felt sad that he felt this way, then angry that he didn’t tell you about this, then happy that he was telling the truth all along. you were all beomgyu’s ever loved, love, still loves. it’s making your head spin, your mind blurry; it’s a clusterfuck of emotions you can’t comprehend. he should’ve told me. why didn’t he tell me? why did you suffer all alone? you only realise you’re crying when you can’t see things clearly, your chest heavy, breathing is more difficult when it feels like your mouth is being stuffed with cotton.

your phone buzzes by your bedside table and it’s...

[beoms 🐯] hey, you still awake? 🙇‍♂️ [12:42a.m.]

you push the book to the side and you hastily reach for your phone. with wet fingers, you don’t know what you press in the midst of trying to blink away the tears rapidly filling your eyes but the second you hear beomgyu’s voice echoing from the speaker, it makes your heart stop. unwittingly, you’ve tapped to call him and whether it’s an honest mistake or a nudge from fate, you’ll take it.

carefully, you put the phone to your ear, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand.

"please, answer me. are you okay? is something wrong?” the way he sounds worried makes your stomach churn, the butterflies roaming free like they once did; like they always did. it becomes clear; his intentions, his mistake. “g-gyu...” you try your best to contain yourself but it’s like he always knows; the tremble in your voice, the soft sniffs.

“ba–”he stops himself before his old habit kicks in, clearing his throat, “y/n, a-are you crying? what’s wrong?”

you inhale and intend to answer but a soft sob escapes instead. your hands are shaking and you can’t even hold your phone properly. the lack of response from you is all it takes for him to tell you to–”i’m coming over. i’ll be there in ten minutes. don’t hang up, okay?”

you hear rummages from his end as you sink in the bed, pulling your legs up and attempt to shrink against the headrest as you keep your phone to your ear. the line grows quiet on the other end and then it’s a couple of thuds and the sounds of his breath against the microphone that indicates he’s plugged in his earphones.

“t-talk to me. let me hear your voice, please.”

“i... i read your notebook,” your voice is soft, but beomgyu catches all the syllables.

the quietness from him dissolves when you hear the sounds of the outside world welcoming him. then the sounds of his clothes ruffling against the wind tells you he’s running.

“what notebook?” he asks mindlessly, trying to keep you talking so he knows you’re on the line with him. that you’re safe. that when he reaches you, he knows you’re still at where he thinks you’re are.

“the one you took on tour.”

you hear him stop running when his sneakers screech loud enough for you to hear. then it’s his soft panting, the slow realisation hitting his nerves.

“how–why did you read it?”

“because i didn’t trust you.”

beomgyu remains quiet and you’re squeezing your phone so hard, it feels like it’s going to shatter. your eyes are closed, snapped shut with the tears still trailing down your face but now’s a good time as any to tell him how you really felt during your few days of trying to process things.

“how could i believe you when you broke up with me? months later you show up at my door telling me you never stopped loving me and i’m supposed to believe it right away?” beomgyu remains by the sidewalk, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop himself from speaking. his hands, clench to fists in the pockets of his hoodie as he listens with a bated breath.

“i never doubted you for a second when we were together but the moment you broke up with me, i started questioning everything. i jumped to my own conclusions because that’s all i was left with,” the sounds of you crying grows evident when beomgyu can hear how hard you’re trying to breathe. the imagery of you crying, possibly curling up all alone is what gets him to start walking again, picking up the pace as he pins out the route to your place in his mind.

“i-i’m sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head, blinking away the tears, “we’ll talk when i’m there, okay? just please stay on the line with me.”

you didn’t. not because you didn’t want to but because you can’t let him hear the cries that leave your mouth the more you process the words he’s written in the pages of his notebook. and that only made beomgyu run faster to get to where you are.

//

beomgyu’s partially breathless as he stands in front of your door, knocking on your door frantically. “y/n!” he calls out, giving the door a few more knocks, impatient with each thump of his chest that reminded him of how fast he’s sprinted to get here. he doesn’t let up until the door opens so when it starts to creak open and–”y/n...” he mumbles under his breath, still trying to breathe right but then he sees the notebook in your possession, along with... with the...–”promise me you’ll wear it?” beomgyu huffs, holding his pinky out with a familiar looking ring on his finger. you chuckle and hold out your pinky to lock it with his, a matching ring on your finger as well, “of course.”–beomgyu’s brought back to the present when you extend your arm out, seemingly returning his notebook.

he catches his breath, shaking his head as he peels the book from your fingers, “h-how did you get this?”

“jun gave it to me earlier,” you murmur, quietly, voice strained and beomgyu hates it. hates how you look like you’ve been crying so much your eyes are puffed up, your nose sounds like it’s blocked and how your fingers tremble–smudged with black ink–gripping yourself for support. 

“why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, to which it seems like the question to what you’re referring to pops up like a haunting in his mind through the time you’ve spent apart; the thing that keeps him up all night since he’s made his mistake. truthfully, he only considered it for a fleeting moment before it disappeared, committing fully to a decision that broke his heart and yours combined.

“i-i didn’t know how,” he sounds helpless, the crack in his voice is what causes him to break, “i thought–”he swallows”–i truly thought...”his breathing grows shallow as he inhales through his quivering lips, his voice drowning in his emotions surfacing, tears pooling in his eyes.

”...i thought i wasn’t the one for you–”beomgyu lets go of the book, allowing it to thud onto the floor as he steps in. the door closes behind him and everything fades to black the second he enters your arms that welcome him in.

he’s still suppressing his emotions to his best ability; as if in some twisted way, he thinks he can still bottle it in. holding up a front. sticking his chest out. what gets him to crack is when he feels your hand running through his hair–like you’ve always did–the feeling of the silver band on your pinky, lightly grazing his scalp that it breaks his entire façade.

the promises weaving through each stroke–i love you, gyu. he feels your fingers–you love me. tangled between his hair–i’m here. your fingers glide down, resting by the nape of his neck–i’m not going anywhere. he feels you, the soft squeeze you give by his neck and he can breathe–you’re okay. beomgyu clutches onto you like a lifeline, his face buried in your neck as he cries, quietly. then, it grows louder with the agony he’s held in his chest thinking he was doing what was best for you, for us. the pain he’s carried alone, the weight of his thoughts burying him so far deep he hadn’t thought of allowing them to resurface but it all comes out; overflowing before he can restrict them at the feeling of you in his arms.

god only knows how long you two stay like that. until either of your breathing evens out. until the tears dry up and you two no longer have running noses. the air around you, though heavy, feels lighter than it was a few days ago. it’s more... calming, if it made sense. the tension that felt thick, seemed to have filtered out and all that’s left is–”i love you,” beomgyu whispers, his hands cradling your face past the tears that have dried up on his face. his nose, slightly red from all the crying and his eyes are slightly puffy but his emotions shine the brightest.

you’re no different. even when there are bags of emotions lining the under of your eyes, your nose seemingly blocked with damp cheeks, beomgyu’s able to see your eyes just as clear as day. the fogginess of uncertainty has faded away; washed by the tears. the clench in your chest has loosened, screamed and released through the cries you two shared earlier. it’s ugly, it’s painful, but that’s still love.

“i love you,” you whisper back; and this time, beomgyu felt it. you felt it. the two of you did. although certain puzzle pieces are left askew, the right ones are finally, finally back in place.

//

an hour later, the two of you snuggle on the sofa with cups of tea on the table. beomgyu embarrassingly has to explain the lyrics upon lyrics he’s written and braves himself to tell you what he’s felt during his time apart. the setting allows you to speak of how you felt, your thoughts, your conclusions; and he rebukes each one just as you soothe every insecurity he brings up. it won’t go away immediately and beomgyu knows–you know–it’ll take some time for him to prove to you each day he truly loves you but it’s... it’s a start.

it’s a start to loving each other again. 

that’s all beomgyu could’ve hoped for and he’s got it.

a moment passes and now you’re curled up in his arms, resting your heads on one end of the sofa with your legs intertwined to the opposing end. beomgyu feels your heartbeat thumping against his chest as you rest on one of his arms, curled up slightly so he can play with your hair as he looks at you.

the redness in your eyes has subsided, your nose no longer blocked and you can breathe right. he feels freer, lighter, as if all is right now that he has you in his arms like this. without anything being hidden from you; the truth bare as his eyes gaze into yours.

"if you hide anything like this from me again, i’m going to strangle you myself,” your voice is soft and calm, in total contrast with your words that it makes him chuckle. for the first time in a while, he laughs as it comes from his gut; pure happiness bubbling from within and escaping in the beautiful sounds of his laughter. he nods and leans in, lightly brushing his forehead on yours, “i think i’d die first before you get the chance.”

that makes you laugh with him; quietly, at ease. feeling the security like you did before the rocky bump ever occurred. you let your eyes close as you scoot closer to him. he welcomes the way your arms sneak beneath the sofa to curl around his waist so you can snuggle him.

“can i stay the night?” he murmurs into your ear, and he doesn’t need to look to know you feel offended when he feels the way your body tenses for a split second. “you’re asking?”

he snorts, shifting his arms around you so he’s able to cocoon you in as he kisses the side of your head, refusing to look at you as he slowly succumbs to sleep with his announced decision of: “i’m staying the night.”

you smile against his neck and he feels it. more so when he hears the confirmation echoing into his ears softly.

“much better.”

as the night treads along, two steady heartbeats beating as one, beomgyu feels his heart resting at ease in the presence of yours. not all is rainbow and sunshines, nor will the scars mask over easily over the course of the coming days but... but–”goodnight, beomie.”

good nights are ahead of him as long as he had you in them.

((the boys wake up to a small commotion, ushering them out of their rooms to see what it’s all about. it was nearing midday and most of them were about to wake up anyway, but this... this definitely beats any morning call whatsoever.

they stand a distance away, four boys watching how you and beomgyu are trying to set up the dining table with takeaway food, an array of balloons that get none of the work done since you two keep swatting it at each other and a cake that takes the centrefold. 

“well what do you know,” taehyun muses quietly, shaking his head as he leans against yeonjun, “guess you’ll never let this die, huh?”

yeonjun holds his hands out to receive the soft high-fives, “i’ll take all the credit.”

//

the surprise might’ve been ruined considering the four of them quite literally watched the two of you set it up but it was well-received (as it always does with the boys and food–). it feels like things were back in place; as if the boys had gained a friend again after being cut off for a couple of months. the pieces reconnected itself and stories upon sparks of memories fill in over a rerun on the television and all of you huddled up on the sofa, on the floor, circling the coffee table.

as you have your feet over beomgyu’s lap, you’re immersed in a conversation with taehyun (who the rest berated for not seeing you but he’s quick to defend himself saying he just wanted to give you some space and put a fucking sock it in, huening!) about what he found fascinating throughout the tour. 

with beomgyu’s directly in front of yeonjun who sits on the sofa behind him, it gives the older a perfect clear in to hover over beomgyu’s shoulder with a poke to the cheek, "beoms,”

“hm?” the latter nonchalantly glances over.

“i mean this in the nicest way possible,” he murmurs, ”if you breakup with y/n again, i will never, never forgive you.”

beomgyu snorts and shoves him away playfully, eliciting a laugh from the older... but he doesn’t miss the way the younger whispers i won’t ever forgive myself, either. while yeonjun made it his mission statement to make sure beomgyu never forgets this, it feels like he succeeded with what he was intending when he sees how beomgyu looks at you adoringly; the light has returned in his eyes and it... it was nice.

fine, yeonjun won’t tease beomgyu about it... yet.))

[ulquiorrapleasecallmetrash]

absolutely love your works, especially your Undertaker content, it's lovely. could I possibly request something with submissive UT? you can even go to the extreme and include pegging, if you're comfortable with that. once again, love your blog!

To Be Used (Sub! Undertaker x Dom! GN! Reader)

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Fandom: Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji

Warnings: Bondage, Strap-on use, Spit, Sucking on strap, Butt stuff, Fellatio, collaring, Harness use, Dom/Sub dynamics, hair pulling, begging,

Rated: 18+ sorry kids, maybe once you turn 18!

Admin Harmony🐯: Thank you so much for those kind words! You're too kind and too sweet🥰. Ohoho you Undertaker ho's are in for a treat. Say thank you to Anon for requesting this! It's one of my proudest works! I hope you enjoy this!

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It was one of those rare occasions that Adrian would let you take control. 

At first, he would tease you about it, thinking about someone like you taking control of was a cute, but silly idea but once you told him how serious you were he let you indulge him. 

He was an open-minded guy, after all. 

And his openness is the reason why he was tied up, hands behind his back with nothing but a leather harness on his chest with a matching collar around his neck. He was fully exposed on the bed, face down ass up, his beautiful long hair flowing down his back. 

He looked perfect. 

You hummed in approval, making sure to examine every inch of his body, soaking in everything. 

He looked just like art, a masterpiece even.

“ You look so gorgeous bound for me.”  You said breathlessly, Undertaker gave you a toothy grin, his emerald eyes pierced through his shaggy bangs as he looked up at you. He always enjoyed being praised, and you can tell by his eyes that he enjoyed that compliment. You took your index finger, carefully lifting his chin up so he was looking straight at you. Then, you leaned forward to give him a heated kiss, it was slobbery, messy and erotic, just how he craves it. He never wanted the kiss to end, but unfortunately for him, you let go, watching the bridge of spit that trailed from both your mouths. “You’re so eager for me aren’t you? You’re such a good boy.” You chuckled darkly, watching his eyes brighten up  upon another praise. 

“Do you remember all of your safe words?” 

“Yes, madam.” 

“Good, if we do need to stop at any time make sure you use them. You trust in me, right?” 

“Of course, my love.” 

You smiled with him, gently rubbing his cheek with your soft, warm hand. “Good, now let’s get started.” 

You went over to the dresser, opening a drawer to scavenge through the items that you have collected until you found what you needed. Lube and your strap-on. You could feel Undertaker’s eyes on you with full interest, he knew what was coming. 

“You see this don’t you my dear?” you smirked, lifting up the items so he could get a good view of it. He nodded his head, “Words, my love.” You verbally scolded him. “Yes, Madam I see it.” 

“Good, because this is what we are going to do. You need more training, I need to make you my perfect anal slave now don’t we?” You chuckled as you watched him shift a little, you could always tell when he was getting hard for you.

“Yes, please do it Madam.” His voice was calm but you could hear the slight urgence in his voice, he was getting more aroused the longer he saw you holding the strap-on. 

You only tutted, “Now now you’re getting too eager, Adrian. You can’t possibly get rewarded without putting in some work. That wouldn’t be too fair now would it?” 

Adrian  didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to, because he knew he would be punished if he did and he needed to be used by you as soon as possible. 

You begin to strip your clothes off, staring into his eyes, watching his lustful gaze savor every part of your beautiful body. You begin to put on the harness for your strap-on, sliding the garment over your lower half, entertained by Undertaker’s desperate eyes.

He was getting needier by the second.

“I said you needed to put in work in order to get what you want, and that still stands. We need to put your pretty mouth into good use, so I think you know what to do next.” You made your way towards  him, standing right infront of him, your long, thick dildo right into his face. He hesitated, “ Go on darling, it ain’t gonna suck itself..” You chuckled, grinning down at him. You leaned forward a bit more, dildo  face first,  so it would be easy to properly mouth train him. Undertaker leaned his head forward giving it a gentle lick on its tip. You tutted, “it’s not a real dick, no need to tease it. Give it your all, don’t be so shy.” You winked at him. 

He opened his mouth wider, leaning his head forward to suck on it, puffing his cheeks, then bobbing his head up and down slowly, trying to get a good rhythm. 

“Good boy, you have a nice rhythm, now keep it up and go faster, put that mouth to wonderful use.”  You placed your hand on his head, gently patting it upon praise. He let out a muffled moan.  He begin to do just as you say, sucking and bobbing his head eagerly. He was being so good for you, he even rememebered to keep eye contact with you as his mouth fucked the toy. You grabbed a fist full of his gray locks, slightly forcing it down his throat.

“Such a good boy but you need to go deeper, how can you be my handsome throat prince if you can’t go deeper?” You hummed, you could hear more of his muffled moans, as he kept bobbing his head deeper down your cock. You begin to gently thrust into his throat, making sure to keep a nice steady rythmn since he wasn’t use to being throat fucked like this before. You gripped his hair, practically violating his face, your thrists becoming more relentless as time went on. You hadn’t noticed but Adrian was already on the brink of oragasm, his cock hard, rapidly pulsating and needy. Then after a few harsh thrusts from you, his strained moans echoed, oragasming right then and there. His come spurting out snd onto the bed. 

Your eyes widened from shock, Did he just orgasmed just by you face fucking him?  

“You truly are my throat prince, I never thought you would orgasm just by me face fucking you.” 

You removed your spit coated toy out of his mouth, giving him some time to breathe and come down from his high.” He laid down, breathing heavily, his face pink and warm.

“You truly are a gem, but we’re not done yet. It’s time for your reward.” 

He perked up, lifting his head up in interest, watching you humming happily as you lube up the dildo. You begin to get on top of the bed, right behind him. He tensed a bit, once you rubbed the lubed all over your fingers and then into his anus, making sure to use a generous amount. He gasped at your warm touches, his cock starting to swell again from arousal. Your fingers worked their magic  as you poked and prod his anus, making sure that the lube coats the walls of his hole. You grinned as you heard Undertaker’s moans of arousal. It was truly music to your ears. “ Are you ready to take all of me in?”  You asked him, Adrian nodded, his cock twitching rigorously, pre-cum already leaking from his tip. “Take me please, madam.”  He insisted, his voice filled with urgence. 

“As you wish, my love.” You position your cock at the entrance of him, taking your hand and slowly dragging it down his back to further tease him. He tensed a bit, a slight gasp escaped his lips. You begin to slowly insert yourself into him, you begin to lean into him closer, making sure to fully dominate him. Skin on skin contact can be heard as you begin to thrust into him, slowly, at first until you pick up the pace. The volume of his moans increased the harder and faster you fucked him, you growled, using your dominate hand to grab a fistful of his beauitful gray  locks, “Ahhhh~!” You heard him audibly moan, you knew how much he loved getting his hair pulled. You yanked his hair harder as you ruthlessly pounded into him, going in deep and fast but also taking time to go as slow as possible to further tease and edge him. His moans were getting louder, echoing from his lips. You only tutted, still fucking him senseless. “You’re so loud, it’s a good thing that no one else is around or they would know how much of slut your really are~.” You cackled, taking your hand and smacking him on the ass. It was hard to see from your angle but Undertaker’s cock  was scarlet, engorged, and twitching constantly, his balls heavy with cum, that was desperate to be released.. The slapping on the skin on skin contact was also turning you on too. “F-fuck.. I’m gonna…”  Undertaker whined out, “Aw are you gonna come, handsome? You sure can, cum all over the bed for me dear. this is your treat~” You hummed, your eyes never leaving his form as he moaned out in pure pleasure, several spurts of cum squirted  all over the bed. You still fucked him senseless as you pulled on his hair harder. Once he had finished oragasming, you let go of his hair, watching his head fall onto the bed. He was panting, exhausted by his intense oragsm. You gently removed yourself from him, taking some of the leftover cum that was on his bed, making sure to gather as much as possible. You took your finger, placing your hand infront of his fucked out face, “You sure can come a lot, Adrian.” You took your other hand, lifting up his head with his chin, placing your cum covered finger between his lips, feeling the sensation of his tongue licking and sucking it like a true gentleman. 

“You did such a wonderful job, I’ll give you a little rest.” you gave him a sweet smile, “Because of you, i’m soaking wet and needy, now it’s your turn to do the favor~.” 

And he gladly will.

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[jikjinz]

Hard thoughts abt treasure.. How about face sitting with sub!yoshi🐯 Look at his nose it must be awesome to ride it😋

FACE SITTING WITH YOSHI IS LIKE… SITTING ON THE OLYMPIAN THRONE.

his face feels so good under you, almost as if it was made for you to sit on it. he’s lapping all your sweet juices up like a thirsty animal in heat.

he’s at your mercy, happy with his place beneath you, and happy to fulfill your desires

everything you say is his command: faster? he’ll tongue-fuck you into oblivion; slower? he’ll take his time; don’t stop? he’ll keep on being a good boy

every moan, whimper, or any sound falling from past your lips is like a divine melody; you’re his muse and he’s your apollo.

FACE SITTING WITH YOSHI IS… RELIEVING.

you can use his face however you want, you can suffocate him with your thighs, he doesn’t care; all he cares about is to make you feel good

every time you come back to him in a bad mood, he already prepares himself to be your seat

usually, he’s taking his time with eating that divine meal; thanks to that, you forget about everything else, no matter what was stressing you

it goes both sides, though.

you are his stress relief; when you see him in a bad mood, all you need to do is offer your pussy and he’ll cry in excitement

FACE SITTING WITH YOSHI… FEELS LIKE A LONG-AWAITED PROPHECY COMING TRUE.

no matter the circumstances, he’ll always make sure to take you to the olympian mountain with his tongue and fingers

it’s like his face was destined to serve as your seat; your pussy fitting his mouth perfectly, and his nose nuzzling right into your clit

he won’t let you get up if you still didn’t cum on his face; you are his savior and he’s there to please and preach you like the goddess you are.

he knows you are his only one; like a match made in stars… or your strings tied together with a tight knot

| treasure mlist | main mlist |

@ jikjinz // @ zarazmnie-cos 2024; do NOT repost or translate !!

[toomanythoughts2]

Dethklok Agere HCs: Murderface Edition

🗡️🎸🖕🤬🪖👨‍🚒🍺🤮💩💢🏌️‍♂️🐯🌭🍨📱⚔️🛡️🏹⛓️🩸🚽🚬

After Toki, I wanted to do my second favorite member of Dethklok: Murderface! I see so much of myself in him and it's hard to not notice the signs. He means a lot to me, especially as someone who also grew up with their grandparents. I hope to do the rest of the band soon. So, this is my boy Murderface 🗡️!

Everything is below the Keep Reading tab.

(Murderface, you are so unwell and I just want to take care of you and show you that you are worthy of love and acceptance.)

🗡️ Ok, so, I think Murderface's regression range is higher than Toki's toddler head-space but not as old as Pickles, who I think is an older/pre-teen regressor. I would say he's around 5 to 8. He's old enough to be by himself and play but small enough to still need help occasionally.

🗡️ As I said before on Toki's post, I don't think Murderface's regression is easily as recognizable as regression. A lot of times, the band thinks he's just being his attention-seeking self. Murderface doesn't even recognize that he's regressing until he's done regressing and feeling weird about it.

🗡️ Murderface, I believe, has voluntary age regression, or Age Dreaming. However, I think his body recognizes that he needs to regress to decompress, so he'll naturally go do those things or behave that way to help regulate those emotions. It gets worse the angrier or more depressed he gets. It's like his body is consciously making him regress without Murderface having the word to know what he's doing. He can stop "regressing" when he wants to, and has the ability to not do it in the first place, but it's been his coping mechanism for so long, he doesn't know what else to do. Mind this, Murderface's regression isn't about just being a baby, I do believe his regression is tightly connected with his self-harm and child-hood trauma. For instance, his inability to care for his personal hygiene is a type of passive self-harm but his regression (tied to his childhood) makes it hard for him to change that habit. Where Toki uses his regression to protect himself, Murderface's regression keeps him trap in his childhood. It won't be until Murderface recognizes he is regressing and working on his mental health will he be able to use his regression to help himself. (I hope this makes sense.)

🗡️ I think he started regressing a lot earlier than people think but they were just unable to identify it at first. I think he began regressing as young as a middle schooler, but the regressing was so minute and so insignificant that no one ever caught it. Additionally, I think middle school is where Murderface first develops the majority of his mental health issues like depression and an eating disorder.

🗡️ It's not until Murderface is taking care of Toki when he regresses that he starts noticing the signs of his own regression. The band all have group mandatory meetings with Dr. Twinkletits about how to best care for Toki and how to spot the signs of his regression to minimize dangerous situations. Murderface is very quiet during those meetings after the realization.

🗡️ While Pickles or Nathan are usually the more knowledge in the topic now, as they are Toki's main CGs, it's Skwisgaar that notices Murderface showing signs of regression first while watching Toki play with Murderface in the living room. He's talks to the rest of the band before they decide to talk to Murderface about it.

🗡️ Of course he heavily denies the claim and refuses to hear anymore about it. But now that the band is aware, they all keep an eye on him just in case.

🗡️ This is a HC of mine that has been stuck forever, but I believe the first time Murderface fully lets himself regress in front of the others is at the beach. The idea is that Toki and Murderface run off together while the other three stay on the beach. Toki regresses and Murderface is stuck taking care of him but the longer he's with him, the calmer he gets. He wants to be like Toki too and just enjoy himself. So they spend the afternoon having fun and going in shops and walking the boardwalk. They come back and Toki collapses on Skwisgaar for a much needed nap. The band fully expects Murderface to sit in his own chair and do the same but he ends up just standing next to Pickles. Pickles has no idea what he's doing but he longer he stands there, the clearer the image appears. It isn't until Murderface asks if he can nap with Pickles do they all realize what is happening. It's a very delicate situation and no one is trying to mess with it, so Pickles says yes and lets Murderface nap with him on his chair. Nathan is busy texting Charles while Pickle holds Murderface. Toki is fast asleep and Skwisgaar is feeling proud of himself for being so observant.

🗡️ Once Murderface was identified as a regressor, a lot of past incidents began to make sense, including the disturbing ones.

🗡️ Murderface self-harms but that doesn't stop in his regression. If Murderface is feeling too little to SH "properly" (like cutting), he will hurt himself in ways that he can like banging his head against walls and hitting himself. He will bite himself and scratch at his skin. Nathan has taken to holding him against his chest to get him to stop.

🗡️ I like to think that Murderface's eating disorder, which I HC as binge eating, is also related to his childhood trauma thus connected to his regression. The combination of self-hatred, depression, and regression make it hard for Murderface to regulate his feelings about food, so he does what knows can "fix" that problem, which is eating. And the more upset he gets, the messier he gets. He uses his hands instead of silverware, he switches between plates before finishing one off, he lets the food and drink spill and stain him. I HC that Murderface grew up in poverty, so there was never enough food inside the house, so he was always hungry. He's confusing his depression with hunger, thinking that if he just eats, he'll feel better because he was always hungry when he was sad. But the older he got, the less this became true but the habit already formed. Regression happens while he's in the process of binge eating. He's slipping into a mindset where this has to make sense, even if it hurts him.

🗡️ Ok, enough of the sad, backstory HCS. Murderface has a hot wheels car track that he sets up in his room or the living room where he races his hot wheels. The others join in as well and it's a good time (as long as Murderface wins a majority of the time).

🗡️ Murderface's regression is not as "baby" as Toki's. A lot of it is very typical young boy interests like cars, trucks, war, and guns. He likes video games and stupid, crude humor like South Park.

🗡️ I don't see him using a lot of traditional regression supplies like bottles or clothes. He likes to remain as he his and doing what he's doing while regressed. Though, he does like to be in comfier clothes when he regresses, so he will change into sweats or worn shirts.

🗡️ Because Murderface is able to identify that he is choosing to regress in moments of stress, he's been able to make great work with Dr. Twinkletits about his mental health.

🗡️ The band is very supportive of him, much to his surprise. He didn't think they would be anything but begrudgingly helpful. But they are genuinely understanding.

🗡️ While I do not think Murderface needs or wants a caregiver like Toki, he does spend a lot of time near Nathan when he feels particularly small. He looks up to Nathan a lot, and wants to be around him.

🗡️ If Pickles notices that Murderface is feeling smaller than normal, he'll quietly switch a few things around to help him drop. He's gotten very good at body language (hand on the back, raking fingers through his hair) and communication (chosen phrases or names that solidify his regression, words of encouragement)

🗡️ Murderface has a lot of crying spells and tantrums that no one can make a lot of sense of, including Murderface. His tantrums aren't like Toki's, which resemble an actual toddlers tantrum. His tantrums look like his normal behavior, except they're followed by tears or a high level of nonsense. His biggest tell is if what he's yelling about isn't even close to the situation he's in. When he's small, he overthinks every little movement or word and worry's about what they mean. These thoughts happen so fast that it's hard for him to track just how he got to his tantrum in the first place.

🗡️ Murderface won't take bubble baths like Toki, but he is much more willing to bathe now that he understands his regression and his depression. He'll put on music while he showers and watch youtube videos on how to take care of his hair. He's still scared that if the band sees him trying they'll make fun of him, but he has to remind himself that this is for himself, not the others.

🗡️ Skwisgaar will often offer to brush through Murderface's hair before bed if he knows he's had a long day. Something about being taken cared of just relaxes Murderface and makes him feel small.

🗡️ Surprisingly, no one in the band is Murderface's favorite. It's actually Knubbler. (He's alive, shut up.)

🗡️ He's an IPad kid (Obviously) but its obnoxiously worse when he's regressed. Pickles as gotten really good at parent locking his IPad to certain hours so he won't use it while they're eating dinner or lunch. Murderface despises it but he also knows if it wasn't there, he would be playing car revving videos at 100% volume while eating.

🗡️ Skwisgaar is very attentive when he wants to be, so he's constantly gently doing things that make Murderface drop without necessarily meaning to, but Murderface never forces himself to stop the feeling. Toki needs a lot of support in his regression, so Skwisgaar naturally does those "Caregiver" things already. Like, cleaning dirty fingers after eating, moving hair out of his face while he's busy doing something, fixing blankets around shoulders, gently moving them int he right direction if he begins drifting away. Murderface doesn't encourage them but he never denies them.

🗡️ Toki adores it whenever any of the other band members are regressed because he feels like he can finally give back after having them all take care of him. He loves playing with Murderface with his cars or playing pretend. Problems happen when Toki accidently regresses in the middle of it.

🗡️ Murderface loves playing pretend war. He has his wake guns with the nerf bullets and the plastic hat. He hides under tables and behind doors and shoots whoever walks by. He's only ever gotten in serious trouble when he got Charles in the butt in his office when he was on a phone call.

🗡️ Speaking of trouble, Murderface does get into some trouble when he's small. The band does not discipline him like they would discipline Toki with a time out, but Nathan does scold him. He's the only one that gets to him when he's small and knows that he's serious.

🗡️ He wants a dog so bad but he's scared the guys won't let him. Skwisgaar and Toki will take him to the local animal shelter to play volunteer. It lets him get all his energy out with the dogs and play fight with the bigger dogs.

🗡️ He will NOT sit a chair correctly. Upside down or on his side ONLY! (Projection as I laid in arm chairs sideways during this age.)

🗡️ He loves He-Man and the Masters of the Universe, He-Man and She-Ra: The Secret of the Sword, TMNT, G.I.Joe, M.A.S.H., Ghost Buster The Animated Show, Thundercats, and Transformers. He's got good taste for older cartoons and shows. It's his biggest tell that he's small or trying to get small is if he's watching one of these shows. However, if he's watching Gilligan's Island or Walker: Texas Ranger, he's trying to get small and be sad. I HC that these are the shows his grandma and grandad would watch when he was a kid.

🗡️ As a child raising by her grandparents, I think Murderface's regression triggers are related to a lot of things that his grandparents did in the house. This could mean the good, the bad, and mundane things. The snapping of a belt, or an expired discontinued perfume, or the sound of an old TV clicker. But also, certain music.

🗡️ So, Murderface is canonically partially Native American (Thunderbolt) but I also adore him being part Hispanic/Latino (Stella being an Americanized version of Estella) Top that off with him being some southern, rural part of America, his music exposure is all over the place. Three types of music help him regress the most: Bluegrass, Hispanic (Salsa + Cumbia + Bachata), and Thrash. I HC that his grandfather played bluegrass before having his stroke and he played some type of string instrument such as lap steel guitar or a mandolin. The sound of it reminds him of sitting in church or his grandfather playing in his spare time around the house. Hispanic, specifically those genres, remind him of his grandmother's radio in the kitchen. She always had something playing while she cooked or cleaned or played dominos with the other older women of the town. On very rare moments, she would dance with Thunderbolt while smiling. It's some of the only calm times in the house. Thrash reminds him of being young and finding music that felt like him. It would remind him of car rides with uncles and staying over at old childhood friends houses and older male cousins that never let him in their rooms. Music helps him regress a lot, whether he wants it or not. (This is all projection btw. Grandfather played bluegrass with a guitar and my father listened to Thrash in the car with me.)

🗡️ He has a very hard time with food when he's small. He eats too much because of part of him is worried about the next time he'll ever get to eat again. Pickles has to constantly remind him that the food isn't going anywhere and if he's full, he can stop eating.

🗡️ Nathan humors Murderface more when he knows he's small. He'll listen more closely to him about song suggestions or his interests.

🗡️ Very rarely will he ask for help when he's small but it does happen. Things like needing help tying shoes or buttoning shirts he will need help in. He also needs help cutting food.

🗡️ He loves swimming. He probably had a lake, river, or pond near him growing up that he swam in. When he's small and it's hot, he wants to play in the pool. He wants to play sharks and minnows, Marco Polo, scavenger, races, and dunking games. He plays with Toki the most but can occasionally get them all involved. Charles usually watches over them all when they do all get in.

🗡️ Hates sunscreen and will run and hide before getting any on his skin.

🗡️ He info dumps big time. To a point where no one has any idea what he could possibly be talking about. He's a big history nerd, so it's a lot of war facts, early American facts, and other miscellaneous facts about cars and guns.

🗡️ Being regressed exposes a lot of his old childhood beliefs, but the biggest ones are the Appalachian superstitions he grew up believing. Charles had an upside down horseshoe places above every outside door for good luck. The klokateers can't wash clothes on Sundays. He refuses to leave a room out a different door than the door he came through. Some of them are funny though like an itchy ear meaning someone is talking about you. He once told that to Toki who immediately went to Skwisgaar to confront him for talking about him. (Skwisgaar was actually talk about him to Nathan but he won't admit it.)

🗡️ Strong physical contact is his best friend for calming down. Just like how adult Murderface likes Pickle's back rubs, regressed Murderface likes head rubs. Something about the pressure feels good and calms him. They use this to prevent any tantrums.

🗡️🎸🖕🤬🪖👨‍🚒🍺🤮💩💢🏌️‍♂️🐯🌭🍨📱⚔️🛡️🏹⛓️🩸🚽🚬

That's all I got for my boy! He is a bit of a challenge, but once I got into his boyish mind, I could really channel him better. I love him so much. Obvi, if you have any HCs of your own, tell me about them! OK, love you, bye! 👋

[bravetigercub]

HI! I'm Adonis, and this is my (secret) agere blog! This is a side blog, I like and follow from @shonenprotag.

I've only just recently realized this part of myself, and it's taken a lot to accept it and acknowledge it for what it is due to a lot of the stigma I've always seen around it. I created this blog as an outlet for myself, and to find community in others that are the same!

★ Adonis/Donnie/Carlos/any nicknames you wanna give me :3

★ Big age: 21 | Little age: 2-9 (I’m a permaregressor tho!)

★ Pronouns: he/him + ti/ger + neos

★ I'm a bisexual transmasc tigerboy! 🐯 🏳️‍⚧️

★ I have BPD, PTSD, major depression and anxiety. I regress to cope! I’m also a tiger therian :3

★ Interests: rhythm games, video games, movies, music, art, sonic the hedgehog, bluey, blue's clues, parappa the rapper, hot wheels, plushies, dinosaurs, TIGERS, anything fun and bright and colorful! Ask me for more! :D

NSFW + MAPS DNI!!!

[jokesonyouimfruity]

you most definitely want to draw Susie Lavoie. You absolutely do no doubts about it. Especially in her Volunteering or Extracurricular outfits

(Please and thank you also she is also apart The Legion and probably most definitely my favorite. i think shes tied with Joey if not)

(Also if I'm requesting doodles too much please let me know and I'll leave you alone /lh)

- 🐯

I drew this kinda quick and like I used the first pic I saw as ref so uh….. mb, if you want me to redraw it I can

No please ask away lmaooo, I like drawing, I just get extremely distracted, this tiger emoji in my inbox is amazing (I’m sorry to the other like 16 in my inbox 💀🤞 )

and it may take me a long minute to get all these asks but I’m determined frfr

I did it the same way I drew the other member lol, got a theme going

also I’m a bit busy as of recent, so it may take me a bit longer—I apologize

[multiplicity-positivity]

Here’s some positivity for systems and headmates who are pet regressors!

Like age regressors, many folks may pet regress for a wide variety of reasons! Whether you, your system, or your headmates pet regress as a coping mechanism, trauma response, just for fun, or anything else, it's important to remember that you are a welcome and important part of the plural community just the way you are! So here's to all the plural pet regressors out there!

🐸 Shoutout to pet regressors who enjoy being regressed and spend a significant amount of their time regressed!

🐭 Shoutout to pet regressors whose animal identities are lesser known or uncommon pets like reptiles, birds, ungulates, or rodents!

🐱 Shoutout to pet regressors whose regression is closely tied to being otherkin, or whose pet regression aligns with their kintypes!

🐴 Shoutout to pet regressors who need help taking care of themselves when regressed, and to those who can easily care for themselves while regressed!

🐹 Shoutout to pet regressors who regress as a trauma response or a coping mechanism!

🐮 Shoutout to pet regressors who are new to regression or are just starting to get involved in pet regression!

🐶 Shoutout to pet regressors who use or want things like collars, leashes, harnesses, chew toys, grooming brushes and tools, (human-friendly) food and treats, pet beds, and other pet supplies while regressed!

🐰 Shoutout to pet regressors who educate others on pet regression, or help advocate for pet regression’s SFW nature!

🦊 Shoutout to headmates who are caregivers to other members of their system who regress, and to systems who are caregivers to others in their lives who pet regress!

🦄 Shoutout to disabled pet regressors whose regression is influenced by chronic pain, fatigue, or illness, who are unable to act in ways that are common yet physically demanding while regressed!

🐺 Shoutout to pet regressors who identify as pet regressors even if their regressed animal identity is a wild animal or would not be fitting for a pet!

🐯 Shoutout to pet regressors who can't control when they regress, and who rely on help from others when they regress involuntarily!

🐻 Shoutout to covert pet regressors who may seem and act normal or inconspicuous while regressed!

Pet regression can influence anyone, and there is no one right or proper way to be a pet regressor! Pet regression can look incredibly different from system to system, and even from headmate to headmate. Regardless of what pet regression looks like for you and your system, know that there is nothing wrong with regressing to cope or just for fun. You're allowed to express yourself and explore your identity however you wish, and pet regression is nothing to be worried or ashamed of! We truly hope you can enjoy and make the most of your time spent regressed. Thanks so much for reading, and take care!

(Image ID:) A pale orange userbox with a cluster of multicolored flowers for the userbox image. The border and text are both dark orange, and the text reads “all plurals can interact with this post!” (End ID.)

[zombpawcoins]

▞▞ . tigeric / tigergender !

[pt: tigeric / tigergender ! end pt.]

[ Image description: A flag with seven equally-sized horizontal stripes. The stripes form a gradient from brown to orange, light orange and then white, then light orange, orange and brown again. There's an overlay of tiger stripes over the flag on the left, while the flag on the right does not. End description. ]

a gender that feels like/is related to tigers, tiger stripes, or something similar. this gender can be connected to any kind of tiger, any aspects of tigers, the colors of them, etc.

pronoun suggestions: ti/tig/tiger/tigers/tigerself tiger/tiger/tigers/tigers/tigerself stripe/stripe/stripes/stripes/stripeself claw/claw/claws/claws/clawself fur/fur/furs/furs/furself scratch/scratch/scratchs/scratchs/scratchself paw/paw/paws/paws/pawself roar/roar/roars/roars/roarself 🐅/🐅/🐅s/🐅s/🐅self 🐯/🐯/🐯s/🐯s/🐯self 🐾/🐾/🐾s/🐾s/🐾self

name suggestions: tiger , tigrio , ozzy , zara , cybil , amur , kip , sia , stripe , ignis

[chenziee]

Red

My piece for @lovinglawzine! It's completely free and available to download right now! There's two zines, >SFW< and >NSFW< and both are full of Law love 🤍🐯 (did I mention it's free?)

[ READ ON AO3 | KO-FI | COMM INFO ]

—————

The first time Law noticed the red cord tangled around his little finger, he dismissed it. He was still deathly sick from amber lead, the brutal loss of Cora-san painfully fresh on his mind, and some strange thread couldn’t be anything but a hallucination. After all, he couldn’t even touch it and it didn’t lead anywhere his hazy eyesight could see. What else would it be except something his exhausted mind had made up?

The second time he noticed it, Law accounted it to still not being used to his devil fruit. It was barely the third time he had managed to successfully conjure up a Room—as he had decided to call it—and it was still wonky, still clumsy, still unstable. He couldn’t see any strings on his hand or anywhere else when he wasn’t using his powers so there was no way it was really there.

The third time he noticed it, he inadvertently remembered a story his mom used to tell him and Lammy. A story about a Red String that connected two fated lovers, two people who were of one soul, never to be complete without the other. Soulmates, so to speak. He disregarded the thought immediately for being too unscientific and ridiculous.

The sixth time he noticed it, he decided he had to be losing his mind because now he could see a red string on everyone who entered his Room.

The twentieth time… 

The twentieth time he barely even noticed the strings tangling in the snow underneath his feet anymore.

—————

After eleven years with the power of the Op-Op Fruit, Trafalgar Law could confidently say he understood how it worked and what it allowed him to do. He could remove people’s organs without hurting them, he could perform near-impossible surgeries without so much as thinking about it, and he could do whatever he wanted within his Room.

And, despite his best efforts, Law couldn’t ignore that anymore either.

It took a lot of back and forth between Bepo and Penguin’s romantic mindset, and his and Shachi’s more realistic—or jaded, as Ikkaku liked to say—worldview. It took him years but in the end, Law had no choice but begrudgingly admit that his power also allowed him to see the so-called ‘Red String of Fate’, whatever that was.

Strings that weren’t so much red sometimes as they were on a scale between black and gold. Black—dark, charred, and dead—presumably for deceased partners. Red for disconnected strings. Gold for a string that found its other end—the second (or third or last) person sharing this bond. To this day, Law wasn’t sure how much weight he should be giving to it though. He had seen people with strings blood red, yet with wedding rings on their fingers, crying for their beloved wives and husbands while Law cut them in half with morbid fascination, uncaring.

On the other hand, he had encountered people with beautiful gold around their left little fingers… who seemed nothing but happy to meet their demise by Law’s unforgiving hands.

All in all…

Law didn’t care.

Least of all, about the red string that was still securely tied to his own hand.

Honestly, if he could, he would have burned it long ago. And boy, did he try. After all, what use did he have for a ‘fated partner’? What did that even mean? He didn’t know and he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to him was Cora-san… and Doflamingo.

But, eleven years in, he had long since resigned himself to the thing being there to stay.

Not that it made any difference to him or anyone else.

At least, that was how it was for a long time. How it was supposed to be.

“You guys stay back. I’ll handle this,” Straw Hat Luffy announced as he, Eustass Kid, and Law took their stand in front of the Sabaody human auction house.

“No, you two stay back!” Eustass snapped back—raising to the bait like a child.

Law, on the other hand, stayed perfectly calm. “You tell me what to do one more time and I’m killing you first, Eustass-ya.”

“Just me, Trafalgar?” Eustass asked, shooting Law a look.

Law didn’t bother dignifying that with a response.

Not that there was that much time for chit-chat once the marines surrounding them from all sides broke out of their pathetic stupor and cannons started going off, shooting straight at them.

“Room,” Law said lazily, taking Kikoku out of its long scabbard. Nonchalantly cutting off the head of the nearest marine, Law quickly switched it with the cannonball hurtling at him, then caught the screaming head easily. 

As he tossed it in his hand a few times, a smirk playing at his lips, Law wondered… how should he play with these rats? They didn’t have much time before an admiral would be on their asses so he couldn’t get too creative…

“Wow, your power’s weird.”

Law huffed, tilting his head to the side to glance at Straw Hat; there was a look in his eyes that was slightly curious… but mostly completely honest, almost innocent, but with a strange weight behind it that made Law freeze completely just for a second. It was the same weight, same intensity as when he had punched that Celestial Dragon, but at the same time, it felt completely different.

But, before he could decipher it or really think about it, the moment was over.

“Look who’s talking, Straw Hat-ya.” Law huffed in amusement, turning his attention back to the scrambling marines.

He called forth another Room just as Straw Hat dashed past him. Law wanted to roll his eyes at his impatience but then something else caught his eyes—a smudge of red trailing after him, flowing happily in the air as if to mark the path he took.

Inadvertently, Law’s eyes followed the string. He wasn’t sure why; maybe because it basically hit him in the face when he flew past, or maybe because Law hardly ever saw a string that wasn’t dragging on the ground, hardly saw someone with the other end of the sting being close by.

Or maybe, that too was fate.

As he followed the path of the string, Law’s eyes widened once his gaze reached his own hand. His own left little finger, where the other end of the string was tied snuggly… while a gold glitter started to spread around it.

No.

No, that couldn’t be right.

There was no way Law was tied to Straw Hat Luffy.

“You chickening out, Trafalgar?” Eustass called mockingly as he stole the swords out of the hands of the three marines that had attacked Law, the three marines that Law had completely failed to notice in his shock.

At least it’s not this fucking guy, Law thought to himself.

“Shut the fuck up, Eustass-ya,” he snapped back, then sighed deeply.

What was he doing? It didn’t fucking matter if Straw Hat was his ‘soulmate’ or whatever other unscientific, superstitious, childish word he wanted to call this stupid thing.

After all, what did he care? He never cared. Not once.

He had neither the time nor the capacity to waste on pointless ideals like love. He knew what love was. He had received love. And then he lost it, every single time. 

His country, his city, his parents, his sister, Cora-san…

He’d lost all of it and now, nothing mattered—nothing but fulfilling Cora-san’s ambition.

Least of all, some reckless idiot in a straw hat with a smile that could blind a person, and passion that could burn down the entire world.

—————

When Law heard about the execution of Portgas D. Ace, he thought nothing of it. He was curious to know how it was going to end: who would win, how the world was going to change, where the delicate balance of power would tilt. He was looking forward to seeing it… but he had no personal interest in it—not in the war, the government, the Whitebeard Pirates, in Fire Fist, or anyone else involved in the fighting.

When Bepo asked him why they were going to Marineford, Law didn’t have an answer for him.

—————

Law was used to operating on people. He was a surgeon, after all. It was what he did.

It was supposed to be routine for him by now.

So why were his hands shaking when he stood above Straw Hat Luffy lying on the operating table, unconscious and bleeding heavily, his life escaping him with every weak breath he took?

Law knew why, but he refused to acknowledge it.

He refused to acknowledge the string hanging between them, the very same string that had changed colour from red to gold just days ago—now slowly turning black. He refused to think about it when he first saw the state Straw Hat was in, he forced himself to ignore it when he first created a Room around them inside the Tang, and he actively turned his eyes away whenever he checked on him while he recovered.

And now, as he sat on the shore of Amazon Lily, clutching the old, tattered straw hat in his hands, he fought with himself trying to not pay attention to the way his left little finger tingled, almost as if the invisible string was strangling its blood flow. Which was ridiculous; the string wasn’t really there, it wasn’t real. Law knew it was only in his head but even so, with every distant scream and every creak and crash of a tree falling, he felt another tug on his hand.

How long had this been going on?

It felt like hours since Straw Hat had woken up—since he started this self-destructive rampage.

At the back of his mind, Law wondered whether this was it. After all the work he had done, after spending two weeks saving his life… Straw Hat was going to kill himself. The thought bothered him more than it should have; his heart was beating at a nervous rhythm, his hands sweating and shaking just the smallest bit, his stomach heavy as if he had swallowed the rocks Straw Hat had shattered with his bare hands earlier.

He hated it. He hated feeling like this just because of a patient.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Law forced himself to focus on his surroundings. He let his eyes wander around the bay, taking in Ikkaku and Hakugan checking the outside of the Tang to make sure Straw Hat hadn’t damaged her anywhere, Bepo scribbling out a clumsy map to the side, Jean Bart chatting with Uni and Clione, telling them about his days as a captain of his own crew. They all seemed to be having fun…

It left Law feeling that much more stupid for being so nervous—so scared. 

How pathetic.

“Whoa!!”

Law startled at Shachi’s sudden call; inadvertently, he looked his and Penguin’s way—the both of them were looking at the sea just off the shore, pointing and shouting about sea kings fighting. As if that was so strange in the Calm Belt.

Still, Law watched with them as the creature struggled, sending violent waves across the water surface in its pointless fight for dear life. It didn’t stand a chance and for a moment, Law wondered just what kind of monster was out there, and if maybe it was going to turn its eyes on the Heart Pirates next. Not that he was worried—rather, a fight might distract him from his thoughts, and from the pirate who was fighting for his life and sanity behind him; so close, yet so far out of Law’s reach.

It didn’t take long for the fight to end and oppressing silence to settle over them. It was like no one even dared breathe as they waited for something to happen. Something, anything…

Except for what did actually happen.

“What a nuisance…”

Both Law and his crew could only watch in stunned silence as a regular human emerged from the water, climbing up the rocks that made up the Amazon Lily’s shore line as if he had just gone to take a quick dip on a vacation instead of fighting a Neptunian in the middle of the goddamned Calm Belt.

Maybe it wasn’t too much of a stretch to call him a monster anyway.

“D-Dark King Reyleigh?!” Penguin cried, the first one to break out of his stupor.

“Oh, it’s you guys. We met at the Auction House, right?” Dark King noted as he casually wringed water out of his clothes.

“Why—how—?” Clione stuttered.

The Dark King huffed. “My ship sank in a storm so I had to swim the rest of the way. It was more taxing than it should have been, I’m really getting old.”

“Storm?” Penguin repeated. “This is the Calm Belt, just how far did you swim?!”

“Anyway,” Rayleigh said, completely ignoring the question in favour of turning to look directly at Law with an unreadable smile on his face. “I’m assuming Luffy is on this island somewhere, isn’t he?”

The question was so simple… but it was as if lightning ran through Law’s body. His breath hitched in his throat, his heart beating a pace faster, his grip on the straw hat tightening. How did he know? Did the navy know too? Were they safe here? What did he want with Straw Hat?

Law wasn’t stupid. He knew that if the Dark King wanted to kill Luffy—or any of them—there was nothing any one of them could do to stop him. No one on this island was a match for this man.

A beat of silence passed while the two of them eyed each other, before Law took a deep breath and spoke up, voice carefully measured. “And if he is?”

At that, Rayleigh laughed. It wasn’t mocking—a genuine, light laughter, one that finally helped Law relax, knowing that there was no immediate danger from him. 

“You’re quite protective of him, I’m glad!” Rayleigh noted after a moment. “I was wondering what the feared Surgeon of Death wanted with Luffy but I see I didn’t have to worry.”

The smile he gave Law this time was so amused, so knowing, that Law suddenly felt incredibly exposed. It was like this man could understand everything about him and Straw Hat, and about Law’s motives; things that even Law himself didn’t know.

He hated the look.

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Law finally looked away. “He’s here. Unless he manages to reopen his wounds and dies.”

“Wonderful! Thank you for taking care of him. I’ll take over from now on.”

"Why?" Law asked before he could stop himself, or at least try to keep his unfounded hostility out of his voice.

And once again, laughter was his response. "Oh, did you intend to keep Luffy all to yourself?"

Law startled at those words. Suddenly, as if doused in ice-cold water, Law was brought back to reality—the reality where Straw Hat was just some pirate he had barely met once, where Law had his own life, his own mission which allowed for no attachments to anyone or anything.

The reality where he had no reason to stay.

Ignoring the painful pang next to his heart, as well as the sharp tug on his little finger—imaginary, it wasn't real, there was nothing there—, Law gave the hat in his hands one last look before he closed his eyes momentarily and sighed.

“No,” he said simply as he finally stood up to his feet. “Two weeks of absolute rest, minimum.”

The Dark King didn’t say anything for a moment, merely studying Law’s expression as if he was trying to cut into his brain and pick him apart, but before Law could snap at him to stop, the man nodded. “Alright, thank you.”

With no reason to linger anymore, Law tossed the straw hat at Rayleigh, not sparing either him or the hat another glance. “Let’s go.”

“What?!”

“But captain—”

Law cut off his crew’s protests with a single glare, one that made them all deflate and shuffle to the sub without another word of complaint. He could hear Shachi and Penguin whining quietly to each other about having to leave the Maiden Island without even getting to properly talk to a single girl but he ignored them, choosing to focus on their departure.

Briefly, he wondered whether he should have waited to at least say goodbye to Straw Hat… but he knew that if he waited for him, if he had to look into those huge, expressive, beautiful eyes that were so full of energy and passion and life… he wouldn’t be able to say it.

Wouldn’t be able to leave.

And Law knew, he knew he needed to go now.

He had no right to stay by his side, after all—not when Straw Hat was injured, broken, and suffering, not when Law could do nothing about it except stop the physical bleeding. Not when Law himself was already broken, his path set for him since eleven years ago—a path that led to nothing but destruction, and which would have Law leave eventually regardless.

It was better for the both of them like this; to part ways before it was too late. 

Before either of them could do something as stupid as falling in love was.

—————

That was two years ago. During that time, Law had managed to forget about Straw Hat Luffy—forced himself to pretend he didn’t see the golden string on his left hand, to act like he didn’t know who it led to. Focusing on his mission, on Joker, Law lived his life without looking back at those eyes and bright smile.

But now, Straw Hat Luffy was standing in front of him in the snow of Punk Hazard, bright and beautiful and oh-so-warm and Law…

Law knew.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to pretend anymore.

[minaramen]

Idol Star 2023 - Prince Stage: Torao Midou

[Disclaimer: I’m NOT a professional translator. I’m using my knowledge from 4 years of university. Please, feel free to let me know if you notice  mistranslation/typo/error of any kind]  

 

***

Haruka: Torao! O-ha-shi (*chopstick)

Torao: Enough with shiritori. My bad for losing

Haruka:

Haruka: Now you’re supposed to take me out for ice cream, like you promised

Torao: Alright. I’ll buy you as many ice creams as you want

Torao: However, attacking with “shi” is prohibited from now on

Torao: It’s frustrating to even type “shi” now

Haruka: That’s funny www It’s kinda of a trauma

Haruka: Okay, I’ll go with “su” next time

Haruka:

Torao: Stop it or I’ll be too frustrated to type any kana from the “sa” group anymore

Haruka: Admission of defeat www

Torao: Okashi*, Ohitashi*,   Inarizushi*…    (sweets, boiled vegetables, deep fried tofu with rice)

Haruka: Humph! Well, only Yotsuba can beat me

Haruka: Just kidding

Haruka: I’m stronger than Yotsuba! 😬

Torao: Are you really talking like that about yourself?

Haruka: So what?? It’s the story of our war!

Haruka:  By the way, I wanted to ask you about the wrap-up party! Can we do it at your place?

Torao: Yes, it’s the biggest after all

Torao: Shall I call the pastry chef again? 

Torao: You said you wanted to eat that crêpe again, didn’t you? 

Haruka: Ah, the one I could watch a real chef make right in front of me! It was super good! The dough was overflowing with butter, and the cream was also full-bodied!

Torao: You’re a real food reporter

Haruka: Well, a crêpe made by a chef is fine with me, of course… but let’s try to make it all together, instead!

Torao: With “all together”, you mean us making a crêpe?

Torao: I don’t think I have that thing

Torao: That thing you use to mix the fresh cream

Haruka: You mean a blender?

Haruka: It’s okay, we don’t need to mix it! We can just buy whipped cream and wring it out

Torao: Can we really do that with a cream that just needs to be wrung out?

Haruka: Yes! We can buy it at the supermarket. They have it at the conbini as well

Haruka: It doesn’t take that much time if we just have to bake the dough

Haruka: It will be fun, don’t you think? Choosing what kind of sauce we can use for baking! We can go for chocolate sauce, strawberry sauce, caramel sauce… whatever we like! You can also choose fruit sauce!

Torao: Can I…choose that?

Haruka: Yeah! It’ll be a Torao special crêpe 🐯

Torao: That’s going to be the number one special crêpe. I’ll get some fruit, then

Haruka: 

Haruka: Really?? Hooray! The melon you gave me last time was the best ever! Grandma loved it as well!

Torao: Give your grandmother my regards

Haruka: Okay, then each of us will bring something for the party. Minami can bring snacks and Touma drinks. 

Torao: I see

Torao: How about meat and potatoes? I mean, the one you shared with me before. It may be cliche, but it tasted like home

Haruka: Really?!

Haruka: The recipe was transmitted to me directly by Grandma! She will be happy!

Torao: Your grandmother is a first class chef

Haruka: Eheh, oh well… it gets more flavorful the second day, so maybe it’s better to make it the day before 

Torao: Do you eat the same thing for two days in a row?

Haruka: Of course! What else should you do when you cook big portions?

Haruka: The third day you can rearrange the meat and potatoes and make some curry! 

Torao: Understood. I’m gonna study

Haruka:

Haruka: Also! We’ll watch the rest of that foreign drama we left halfway the last time I came to your house. Be ready!

Torao: What?! You could have finished it even if you weren’t at my house

Haruka: You don’t understand 😐

Haruka: Isn’t it better to noisily watch that action stuff all together while eating snacks and having some drinks?

Torao: Well, I guess so

Torao: When the story’s atmosphere got tense ti was priceless to watch Touma gazing at the screen with his mouth open, while you were clinging to Minami’s arm

Haruka: What?! You can forget about that!! 

Haruka: If you keep on talking nonsense, I’ll get two ice creams!

Torao: I told you I’ll get you as many ice creams as you want. You’re the shiritori master

Haruka: Say it again😌

Torao: You’re the shiritori master, Haruka. I can’t wait for the wrap-up party

Haruka: Yes! Thanks, Torao!

The end

[onlymingyus]

I just want Hoshi’s long a** fingers in me now k bye 💀🐯😨🤭

I mean honestly I felt this but it's also so cute because when I think of long fingers in Seventeen I don't think of Hoshi. I find his hands super cute and almost petite looking (honestly depending on which pictures you are looking at) but that does not mean in anyway that I don't still want his hands on me and his fingers in me. Because then I started thinking about what if you did call his hands and fingers cute what his reaction would be...

cw; kwon soonyoung (hoshi) x afab reader, smut (minor dni), fingering, dirty talk, teasing, hand kink, jealousy, poor joshua didn't ask for this

laying in bed with soonyoung, you scroll through your phone pursing your lips making a small sound causing him to glance over at you and your phone only to make a face seeing you tilting your head looking at joshua hong's instagram. in particular you had stopped on a picture in which joshua was holding his hand up to jeonghan's face comparing the size of his palm to the man's head.

"what the hell are you looking at y/n?" you laugh, feeling your cheeks burn as if you had been caught looking at porn but you don't turn the screen off or shy away afraid to seem like you were actually doing something wrong. "nothing, nothing...just amused with how big shua's hands are. like they are huge..."

soonyoung scoffs, his brows furrowing while his eyes move from his phone to your face searching your eyes only to watch yours still looking over the picture before you like it and scroll past it. "you did not just like it." your boyfriend watches you laugh, your eyes side glancing at him to watch him pout.

"oh please, I'm just liking a friend's amusing picture. why are you jealous of shua's hands, soonie?" now you were teasing him? what the hell did that mean? he had perfectly good hands. you had never complained about his hands before. when you chew at your bottom lip that is enough to make soonyoung mutter, "that's it..."

you squeal when he takes the phone out of your hand, his body hovering over yours, one of his hands grabbing your wrists to pin them above your head. "I'm not jealous of joshua hong and his hands. my hands are perfect, unless you think differently." you smile up at him, arching your back when he shows you his free hand extending his fingers out.

soonyoung watches your eyes look over his fingers almost appraisingly before you tilt your head and grin up at them. "I love your hands, they are cute." you watch his mouth fall open in shock, almost horror at your words before he repeats the word cute a few times in varying levels of volume and faux anger. "these hands have never failed to make you scream my name before, princess."

you can't help but to smirk at how easy he was to rile up, how competitive he was even with a man you had no interest in and a man who wasn't even here. "fuck hong, I'll show you cute." you laugh into a moan when soonyoung's mouth meets your neck, his free hand working into your pajama pants pushing your panties to the side so he can tease your clit still muttering against your skin.

when you lift your hips, his middle finger sliding down to your entrance, soonyoung looks back to meet your eyes. he grins at you when a long slow moans falls from your lips as his finger presses into your pussy deep only to curl right up against your g-spot with ease. "now fucking tell me how cute my fingers are baby."

——————————————————

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please note that I am doing my best to tag all of you who have filled out the tag list form but tumblr won’t let me tag some of you. I think that is because either you have tags turned off or possibly a blank tumblr page. consider reblogging some of the fics you like from me or other writers. ♥

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.  

[mcnoliap]

Since I have decided to be active on Tumblr once again so I think I should introduce myself a bit

Hi! I’m McNoliaP 🐯

(Magnolia with P)

I am mostly active in HL and partially in the HPMA community on X (twitter)

And this is my favorite children's family,

✨The Ashe Family✨

It all start with my favorite child of all time,

Loebner Ashe

(Left: His 5th year and 15 years old in HL / Right: his 136 years old, working as a Cursebreaker in the current HPMA)

Loebner Ashe is a Half-Vampire. As you can see in the family tree, he married twice. The first time with the former ‘Love of his life’ (You can see more of their romantic journey in #LoebTon on X), and the second time as the start of the Ashe family journey.

His son, Felix Ashe,

(Left: Felix in his 15 years and in Muggle school uniform / Right: Felix in his current state)

As he wasn’t able to join Hogwarts, and moved to live in the Muggleworld with his mother. But still regularly in contact with his father, and go live with him every summer break. After he grew up and married his love, Rosemary. The Ashe family was supposed to cut tied with the Wizarding World and live as any regular muggle family,

And everything has changed, now is the time for a recent member of the Ashe family to be born,

Saucer Ashe

(Left: his 1st year when he joined Hogwarts / Right: his current state as a 4th year and 15 years old.)

His journey is far from the end. Also with the recent event, he has started to realize his feelings for a certain Gryffindor girl, Abigail Grey.

A pleasure to meet all of you. And I’ll keep sharing their journey (also with the rest of my HL children in the stock)

✨Thank you✨

And have a nice day.

P.S. All of my children so far (I haven't updated 2 of my Gryffindor children, Anise Ortiz and Hoonoki Kanna, yet.) VVV