#AH OKAY enough tag rambles

[nugatorysheep]

Glow Week yet again! This time for Rain! @glowweek (My thought was that this is immediately after it rained and they've gone out in the mud looking for weird stuff).

This one is a redraw of Aleth Romanillos' art but with Sven and Connor :3 Its a fun pastime of mine to make edits of official media and screenshots but convert it to their AU.

They're good target for edits because they look significantly different, but I can leave most of the background unaltered because they go through a lot of the same events that Steven and Connie do, in comparison to Leo who has a totally different vibe and early series of events or Druid who has 99 percent of his relevant story happen way after canon is over

Anyway I'll shut up lol

[sillyabtmusic]

[ID: A GIF of multiple shots of Seoho from the kpop boy group "ONEUS" in a hallway lit only by pulsing red lights and lined by plants on either side. He's wearing a cropped, black, long sleeve shirt, black pants, and chains hanging from his belt loops. One shot is close up and shows him gazing into the camera, the second focuses on his stomach as his shirt lifts up, and the third shot is from further back showing him stretching his arms up, his shirt lifting and revealing his stomach. End ID]

seoho in no diggity (src)

[goodluckchamp]

WARM-UP BOYS (18+)

PAIRING: Tashi Duncan x Artashi x Reader  WORD COUNT: 2899 CONTENT TAGS: Smut, oral, through the fabric, fingering, jealousy, insecurity, comfort, hotel, diner, date night, kind of toxic if we really think about it but it's okay, girlfriend!Tashi who is happy and safe thanks to lesbianism SUMMARY: Why would you be jealous of two boys who call themselves "Fire and Ice?” Fuck them and their goofy nickname... Who do they think they are? Tashi is your girlfriend. Not theirs.

You’re sitting across from Tashi in a sticky booth, legs brushing under the table, plates of shared fries and milkshakes between you. The two of you managed to slip away after one of her matches. She won, of course— she always wins. And she hides herself well every time, with polite handshakes and assured smiles by the cameras and fans. 

But you know Tashi. You see her. She’s completely exhilarated, softened by triumph— in a way she only lets show in front of you. You love her like this— giddy, victorious, satisfied. Grinning at you, hair slightly damp and body still buzzing from the game. 

She’s rambling about her third set when she looks past you— and she pauses. You turn around to follow her eyes and— oh. Two boys have walked towards your table, one with dark curls and a strut, and the other, a blonde, softer but still insistent with his pace. 

You assume they’re fans. Supporters of the Duncanator, probably. It’s fine. It happens, especially after a match. Sometimes it gets annoying, but it’s fine. You should be proud of her, really. You should be happy to play photographer, if it means they’ll take the damn picture and leave the two of you alone. But the familiar feeling lurches in your chest. It’s fine. It’s fine. 

“Tashi—” 

“Hey—” 

They start at the same time, gawking at Tashi with the typical, captivated look that most boys give her. 

“I don’t know if you remember us?” 

“Fire and ice.” Tashi nods, giving a short smile. 

Oh. Not just fans, then. 

Groupies? 

You give a subtle look towards Tashi with your eyes, who returns a slight tilt of her head. 

“This is Patrick and Art.” She explains. “I met them at the US open last year.” 

Ah. Tennis players. 

You look back up at them, and the taller one— Patrick— meets your gaze. He’s handsome, annoyingly so, with his curly dark hair ruffled like he’s been constantly running his hands through them. He wears confidence like a jacket and gives you a look over, eventually landing on a smile like you’re nothing worth worrying about. 

The other boy— Art— is more vague with himself. Blonde, pale, sharp— eyes flickering over to you with a gentle curiosity— or maybe he’s just wary. The dingy lighting subdues certain angles of his face but it’s not enough to hide the slight clench of his jaw. It soon morphs into a sweet smile that catches you off guard, like he’s never sized you up at all.

Patrick swings first. “Are you going to introduce us to your friend?” 

Tashi smiles. “Girlfriend, actually.”

“Girlfriend?”

They look surprised and you try not to be offended— it’s not like you and Tashi’s relationship is very public. Still, petty pride pricks in your chest, and you meet their shock with a smug little grin. 

“We’re actually on a celebratory date, so…” The words roll off your tongue and it gives you a surge of confidence, holding Tashi’s hand from across the table. 

“Right.” Art fidgets, like he doesn’t know what to do with this newfound information. “Congratulations on your win, by the way.” 

“Thank you.” 

They stand around for a little while, waiting for something that Tashi refuses to acknowledge. Eventually, they mutter their goodbyes and leave you to yourselves. There’s a moment of silence as you pick apart the dark feeling curling in your chest. 

“Fire and ice?” You hum. 

“Their tennis nickname.” 

You snort. “Lame.” 

You pretend you’re not bothered by the whole interaction, stirring your milkshake, watching the swirl of cream and melted ice cream spin into a mixture of some off-white liquid. You take a sip. It’s warm. Tashi doesn’t miss the way you grimace at the room temperature liquid, focusing on anything but her face. 

“Are you jealous?” 

You shake your head no. Tashi raises an eyebrow. 

You shrug. “Did you sleep with them?” 

“No.” 

You squint. “But you did something with them.” 

Tashi’s quiet for a second, fiddling with the wilting paper straw. “I was invited to their hotel room, and we… got a little drunk.”

Your brain already runs to the worst image— Tashi in some hotel room, bubbly with post-match adrenaline, laughing into Patrick’s neck, touching Art’s hair— all sweat and teenage hormones. You kind of want to throw your milkshake at the wall. 

“A handjob? A blowjob?” You lower your voice, leaning across the table. “Did they eat you out?” 

“Relax. We kissed. That’s all.” Tashi pushes your head back with one finger, right to your forehead. “You are jealous.” 

You sigh dramatically, slumping against your seat. “Why would I be? It’s not like they’re tall, muscular, and super hot.” 

“Don’t be jealous.” Tashi steals a wimp fry from your plate, letting the words drag a bit. “They were pretty gay, actually.”  

“Not gay enough.” You huff. 

You watch as Tashi dusts the salt and greases off her fingers. Fingers that would have touched them. Maybe traced the line down Art’s jaw, or tugged Patrick by his collar. You conjure them up too easily—  stomach twisting in an ugly, involuntary way. 

Whatever. Tashi is yours. You’ll stop thinking about them eventually. 

You’re still thinking about them. 

You were thinking about them in the taxi, staring out the window while Tashi tapped through her texts, one leg casually thrown over yours. You were thinking about them in the elevator, when she leaned over to kiss your cheek— too distracted to kiss back properly. You were thinking about them in the hallway, in the room— and you’re still thinking about them when Tashi steps out of the shower, bathrobe loosely tied around her waist. She picks up her phone on the table, scrolling at something while you mope around the room. 

“I was thinking we could go early tomorrow, beat the rush at security. We can get breakfast at the terminal.” 

“Can you just show me what you did with them?” 

Silence.

You swallow. “Please?” 

Tashi breathes in your words, eyes locked on yours. You were never good at asking for things. Especially not things like this— like sex. You’ve always been quiet about it. A little unsure. So it amuses her to see such bravery in your words, which shrinks, just a little, under her gaze. 

You’re aware of how pathetic this is. Asking your girlfriend to show you what she did with some boys— but the image stays with you. You can’t help it. Not when they understand Tashi’s world. Tennis. They knew what her win today meant. You were just lucky to be there. 

Tashi sighs. She drops her phone onto the table. Then, slowly, she takes off her robe, revealing the silk nightgown underneath, green and short, skimming high on her thighs. Your gaze is fixed on her as she walks to the bed, sitting down at the edge of it. 

“Come here.” She taps on the spot next to her. 

You obey, mattress dipping beneath your weight. 

Tashi watches you adjust yourself, knees bent, hands fidgeting in your hands like you’re waiting for instructions. One word and you’d do anything. 

So she leans in. She guides the kiss, messy, clinging— all teeth and lips and way too sweet to your liking. You try to focus, but your mind conjures up the boys again. Knowing this is what she was doing to them before she met you, you instinctively reach for her waist, pulling her closer. 

But Tashi pulls away. 

“That’s it. They didn’t even touch me.” She holds your face. “I watched them make out for a bit, and then I left.”

You’re silent, expecting the jealousy will boil down with her words. But it doesn’t. 

So you put your lips against hers again, tongue swirling like you’re searching for residue— as if your mouth can overwrite whatever history she has of them. And Tashi lets you kiss her, lets your hands caress her bare skin— and if she notices your tremor, she does not say anything. 

You press kisses down from her neck to her chest, putting just the right amount of pressure to avoid any marks. No one likes the marks. It’s clumsy, excessively eager at first. 

Your fingers pull on the straps of her nightgown, letting the top fall to her waist. Tashi exhales, feeling the cool air tickle her exposed form. You never initiate like this. Tashi’s the one who leads. You follow. You always have. 

“You’re being insane,” she whispers, eyes heavy-lidded. “You know that, right?” 

“I don’t care.” You don’t mean for it to come out so small, broken. “I don’t care, I just— I keep thinking about them. About you with them and not me.” 

“Don’t be—” 

“Stupid, I know.” You smile. “I’m sorry.” 

Tashi watches you for a moment, then she shifts— positioning herself to the middle of the bed, arms falling loose at her sides in a kind of surrender. Like she’s allowing you to have her. 

You follow her, landing on your knees, desperate as if she might change her mind. You reach for her and she meets your warmth, two bodies melding together. You’re nothing but earnest— unrestrained hunger in your kisses— and Tashi handles it with amusement, translating all your fervor into the way she touches you back.

“Let me—” you whine against her jaw, clinging to her— “Let me eat you out.” 

She laughs in response. 

“Please?” Your hand snakes under the silk, finding the waistband of her underwear and tugging on it. “I’ll be good. I’ll make it good.” 

Tashi’s lips quirk up on one side, shaking her head— you shouldn’t be so jealous. You shouldn’t have to beg. All she has to do is say a couple words. Let you remember that you already have her. 

But because she’s amused, because you’re so pretty like this, she bites her tongue and spreads her legs open, giving you space to lay on your stomach. You immediately press your face between her thighs, impatient— 

You’re so fucking pathetic and you don’t even care. 

Tashi pushes her gown up to her hips, your face just below the thin fabric of her underwear— sheer, damp, clinging to her shape. You let your mouth hang open, licking her with the slightest pressure. There’s a sharp inhale from Tashi, along with a tiny jerk of her hips, so you do it again, tongue tracing whatever you can reach through the cloth. 

Your nose nudges against the silk sticking to her, wet enough that you can feel her warmth through it. You taste the salt-sweetness against your tongue, breathing her in and losing yourself— and Tashi watches you, starving thing, palming the back of your hand with one hand. 

“Is this what you needed, baby?” Her nails scratch slow lines on your scalp— rewarding you. “Needed to prove you could make me feel good?” 

You whimper in response, pressing closer, mouthing at her through the fabric. Tashi lets it happen for a bit, humming like she’s watching a pet too eager to sit still. But you’re growing more frantic, and she feels it in your hands tightening on her thighs. 

“Just— take them off,” she orders, lifting her hips just enough to help you. 

You obey, tugging down her underwear, clumsy with just how badly you want her. You toss the panties aside without looking, eyes completely fixed on her bare form. You lean in again, settling small, wet kisses, then longer licks, adding flat, full pressure with your tongue. Tashi responds with a satisfied moan, fingers tangling up in your hair. She’s hot against you, thighs tense and twitching around your head.

You move one hand down, teasing along her entrance, fingertips gathering slick. Tashi bucks into the weak touches, legs tensing tighter like she wants you to trap you there. You circle once, twice, then gently push in, just two fingers at the edge. 

“Oh my god,” Tashi chokes, all breath and tears. 

The wet warmth against your flesh sends a rush of heat flooding down your stomach— she’s so gorgeous like this, slowly falling back into the sheets, lean arms failing her. You don’t stop lapping at her clit, as you move your fingers in, just a little, feeling her stretch around you— and she curses, hands fisting into the sheets above her. 

You keep pressing, nose brushing her as you get more serious, hopelessly uncoordinated but dedicated. It's all starved mouth on soaked skin, messy, practically a worship— tasting her like maybe if you do it right, she’ll forget every other mouth that’s ever been on her. 

And as cruel as it may be, Tashi indulges in it. 

She knows you could get jealous— sees the way you try to conceal it too, with your tight smile and fidgeting hands, all while glaring at the fans crowding over the Duncanator. It’s obvious how much it eats at you from the inside even within your silence. She knew it’d overflow someday— rabid with your need to belong to her. You’d stay here forever if she told you to.

“Look at you right now,” Tashi groans, words choked up in her throat. “Doing— ah— so good for— me.” 

The praise feeds you and you relish it, responding with a proud hum. It vibrates through her and she ruts against your mouth, wanting more, needing more— but she’s never the one to beg. And you’re never the one to make her wait. 

You start to thrust your fingers, slow at first, watching the way she adjusts to the length. How her muscles quiver, how her lips open and close like she wants to tell you to go faster— but doesn’t. She swallows her words, letting you choose the pace. You curl your fingers to hit a spot, drawing a noise out of her— and her mouth stays open, breath stuttering with your every movement. 

“Yeah, just like that,” Tashi pants. “Fuck— don’t stop. That’s my girl.” 

Your chest tightens, heat spreading across your body from your spine. She sees it— the way your rhythm stutters with her praise. Of course she does. 

“Mouth— fucking perfect,” she continues, rolling her hips to meet each thrust. “Keep going. Show me who I belong to.” 

You groan at her words, speeding up, harder— she’s yours. She belongs to you. She’s letting you have her, letting you ruin her— and for someone like her, someone who’s so used to being in control with her presence itself— it’s the loudest form of the love she knows how to give. 

And you take it like a dog, pumping into her as deep as you can, as fast as you can. You don’t even remember when you started grinding against the mattress, shamelessly brushing against the parts that begs for friction. 

“I’m close. I’m so fucking close,” Tashi gasps, pressing your closer, holding you in place exactly where she wants you. “You want me to come on your face?” 

Stupid, stupid question. You nod frantically against her skin, words turning into whines. Tashi laughs.

The laughter soon morphs into moans, filthy and loud, filling the entirety of the room. She repeats your name, over and over again, like she wants to prove that’s the only thing she cares about, the only thing she knows— and you let her soak your face, your cheeks— hips barely controlled, as if she can’t help herself anymore. 

Tashi is fully on her back when she comes, hips bucking as you drag your tongue through her orgasm. Her body jerks through her orgasm, hands gripping the sheets. You don’t stop, finger stroking her through it even when she’s sensitive, choking on incoherent half-pleas for you to slow down. 

“Okay, stop— god, (Y/N)—” Her voice cracks, finally forcing herself up to grab your jaw, tilting your head up. “Practice. Tomorrow. I can’t go again.” 

You pout, slowing down and peppering kisses, like you’re thanking her for her orgasm. She collapses onto the sheets, letting out a fulfilled sigh and you lay down beside her, staring at the ceiling, lips swollen, chin glistening. Tashi pulls her gown back up and you melt into her side, hugging her closer. 

“Still jealous?” 

“Hm.” You bury your face in her neck, breath hot against her skin. “I feel better.” 

“Well, you just made me forget about everyone except you.” she murmurs. “You’re my girl, yeah?” 

You nod without thinking, too fast, and she just laughs again, wrecked and warm. 

“You didn’t come, did you?” 

You swallow. “No.” 

You sit with it for a while, fidgeting against her side. Tashi catches the way your thighs squirm between hers. Eventually, she moves, just a little, letting her hand trail down your stomach, down between your thighs— finding you embarrassingly wet. But your humiliation has never existed, tamed by a throbbing sensation that builds from your core. You lean into her touch— you need her to keep touching you, need her busy. If this slows down, if either of you have time to think, you’d lose the thin, fragile thread holding it all together. 

Maybe you don’t feel better after all. 

You lurch up to kiss her lips, smothering the awful swell of thoughts rising in your throat. Tashi kisses you back, slow, meeting your desperation without one of her own. It only makes you grip onto her harder, breaking apart in her arms like it's in your nature. 

Pathetic. So fucking pathetic.

You come anyway. 

Note: Sex as a proving ground for worth... FUCK YEAH !!! I lowkey didn't really know where to take this so it was marinating in my drafts for a while... so enjoy the unedited mess of Tashi Duncan. Happy late lesbian visibility week <3

[eilaafterhours]

HEATED [Xavier]

Content: Smut, Misuse of Evols, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom/Sub Undertones, Mating Press, Xavier has a Big Dick, Penis in Vagina Sex, Breeding Kink, Coming Inside, Come Eating, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Creampie, Lactation Kink, AFAB Reader, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None (AFAB)

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

Remember: I’ll block you if I catch your ageless or under age (not 18+) ass in my activity! 2130 blocked and counting :)

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

You thought that the situation with the cats would stop at the ears, tail and slight change of mannerisms. However, despite this being a sudden yet common occurrence, your Evol resonated with the cat’s, and now you had a grown man in heat ready to bend you over in the streets. 

You struggled to get him home, but managed. The moment you closed the door, he dragged you into the the living room and threw you on the couch. Dropping to his knees, he shoved the skirt of your dress away, revealing the wet patch of your panties and stockings. 

“Can I? Please?” He asked as he nuzzled against your thigh, hands fumbling with his belt. 

You wanted to move to the bedroom, to give him more room to move, but seeing his dick already hard and red as pre-cum drooled from the tip. 

“Okay, sure. Lemme just—” The second you gave him consent, a quick flash of light blinded you, and your heated lower half suddenly felt a lot cooler. “Xavier—fuck!” He had already thrown your legs over his shoulder before shoving his tongue in your cunt. 

“You’re so wet. All for me…” Whispered to your glistening folds, followed by the filthy symphony of your folds conducted by his tongue.

You couldn’t hold back from singing for him. “Mmmh…fuc—ah…” 

The heated haze that clouded his mind was not indulgent. He was not eating you out as a means of foreplay, but because he needed to get you off. He needed his cum to mix with yours, be he knew that he would not last in your tight heat. 

So when you did come, he wasted no time in adjusting your position. Though, he still had enough sense to ask for your permission (despite having you on your back, with your thighs pressed against your chest). 

“Can I come inside?” He was already rubbing against your folds, quickly gathering enough of your slick to easily glide against it. “Please, Master?”

His thick tail was thumping against the edge of the couch. His cat ears were flat against his head, while his human ones were a burning red along with the rest of his face. He was pouting, and you could have sworn that the moonlight had reflected against the tears lining his waterline. 

How could you ever say no to him, when you were oh so very willing?

You beckoned him closer with a finger, “Come closer, Xavier.” Once he was in reach, you snatched him by the tie, licking the shell of his red ear before commanding him. “Please your master well, Xavier.”

He whimpered, his bucking against you, and it took everything in you to not ruin your moment and moan. That all fell apart the moment he entered, however. You understood why Xavier threw his head back and groaned—that was his heat working on him. 

You, on the other hand, did not expect the change in size. Not that you were complaining—of course not—but how could something so big slide in so easily. 

There was no rhythm or reason to the movement of his hips. He was simply racing to reach his peak. It wasn’t a far race, since he had patiently taken care of you before himself.  

The snap of his hips were pounding sloppily into when he asked, “I wanna come inside—can I? Please, Master?” 

“Ah—Are you asking to breed your master, Xavier?” Your hands found his cat ears, smirking as they fluttered between your fingertips. “Shouldn’t I, as your master, be breeding you?” His words became incoherent, but you’re sure you heard a “yes, please” in there somewhere. 

You shelved the thought for now, instead granting him mercy. 

“Fill me ‘til I’m dripping.”

Finally, with your permission, did he come. Pushing himself as deep as he could, he pressed against the spot that had you breathless. Even after you had calmed from your high, he was still coming, and coming, and coming. His body made sure to follow your command to as instructed. 

But neither of you were done yet.

Far from it. 

While partaking in your combined ambrosia, his fingers played you for more. 

“Does Master’s pussy love me?” He pulled away, then pulled your folds open, watching your cunt pulse around nothing. He groaned, diving back in. Despite him coming in you, both of you were ready for him to do it again. 

But he wanted more of your juices before he filled you to the brim again.  

Shoving three fingers into your cunt, he curled them, making sure to assault that spongy spot. You didn’t have enough time to realize what exactly he had pulled from you until his mouth had clamped back on your cunt. 

“Xavier, what the fuck—” Your eyes widen. Despite his face being dripping in your slick, his blue eyes were glazed with that heat.

He was not yet satisfied, and you were becoming more sure that you were being influenced by his heat because you weren’t either.

He didn’t even bother wiping the slick from his chin as he aligned himself, but then he paused and blinked.

“...milk…”

Another flash of light and you were completely exposed to him, your dress split in two on the floor (the stockings were staying on, however). Now, he was sitting up against the couch with you on his dick (when the hell had that happened).

One hand groped one breast while his mouth worked the other, and his hips thrusting into you. 

You were a mess,

but not as much as him.

“If you’re pregnant, you’ll have milk, won’t you, Master?” He sucked hard on your nipple, trying to pull the nonexistent milk from it. “If you get pregnant, can I drink your milk, please?”

You knew you didn’t want kids now in your life, but the way he was talking seriously had you thinking about it. 

Unconsciously, you clench around him. 

And that was your reckoning. 

There was only one thing on his mind:

Feel the heat of your cunt around his dick, let its vice grip milk him for everything he’s got and more.

One good snap of his hips had you coming, and him rambling, damn near praying to you. 

“Yes, fuck! Yes, Master! Milk me for everything! It’s all yours, everything I’ve fucken—fuck! Let me fill you—I’ll make sure my Master is filled up so good…” 

A prayer so deprived that you were sure it was one-of-a-kind.

“Can—shit—can I come in you again? Right after this? I…I wanna see how it looks. Your puffy pussy still wanting more even after I’ve got you leaking out my cum—Fuck! Fuck—Y’ll let me clean you up, right? Let me go done on you one last time?” At the end of that deprived man’s prayer, his gaze met yours.

You closed your eyes, resigned. Who were you to deny your kitten’s deepest desires.

“I want them to hear me beyond the Deepspace, Xavier.”

“Yes, Master.”

Breeding Kink with no uterus? More likely than you think!

Now that my uterus is gone, you'll probably be reading more from me from now on (not my own uterus being my ovaries fucking inhibitor LMAO (FUCK THAT UTERUS THO IT WAS TRYING TO KILL ME, THAT BITCH).

Anyway, shout out @/javacat person on Twitter for making me insane. Let's also thank my usual possession for the Master shit to come out, that shit blindsided me (a lot of this fic blindsided me tbfh).

I might try to do something with the other three but DO NOT HOLD ME TO IT.

Anyway, oh wait chile, I just realized I was supposed to quote the last thing he says in his kindled. SEE, SEE! THIS IS HOW BAD THE POSSESSION GETS. Head in fucking hands.

Edit: I'd like to thank my bestie for reminding me to add "Come Eating" tag SKSKSKSKSKSKSK

Masterlist

[cheriewoo]

Took Me To The Stars | Kang Yeosang ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 06 : Costume Sex

↬ [ Synopsis ] : Yeosang’s fantasies run wild, from wanting to show you the stars to having passionate sex in theater costumes. It all begins with you helping him ease his tension, but leaves him craving more of you. A deal is struck, promising a night filled with lust, an offer you would never want to pass up.

Word Count : 2.4k Genre : Smut, Angst, Theatre Actor Au, Roomates, Non-idol au. Pairing : Theatre Actor! Yeosang x Theatre Actor! F.Reader

WARNINGS : pure smut(18+), a bit of plot, costume sex, dom/sub undertones, oral (m.recieving), praise, petnames( sweetheart, honey), edging, clothed sex, nipple play, unprotected sex,handjob.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆ ☆ ☆ NOTE : Day 06 is here ma chéries and its Yeosang fic day. This is written in a bit of a hurry so hope you enjoy and please ignore any silly mistakes you see in the story. Nonetheless, hope you devour this piece and shower it with the same love you have been showing to my other fics. Thank you, really so so much.

Un-fucking-predictable. That’s what anyone would call the situation you’re in right now, with your roommate Yeosang’s aching cock in your mouth as you promise to ease all his tension about tomorrow’s play.

It wasn’t your intention to interrupt his jerk-off session when you came back from theater rehearsal, but when pretty, needy moans echoed through the living room,coming from Yeosang’s room,you couldn’t help but sneak a little peek inside your co-star-turned-roommate’s bedroom.

To say the sight before you was mouthwateringly ethereal would be an understatement. With his eyes tightly shut, lips caught between his pearly whites, a blush coloring his cheeks, and his hand furiously pumping his angry cock, his moans desperate for release, you couldn’t help but squirm as you shamelessly watched him.

So, what you heard at rehearsals was right, the play Yeosang is leading has been preponed, causing chaos among the cast. With the performance just two days away, his desperate actions make sense.

His hands move skillfully up and down his length as he moans prettily, half-naked and falling apart in front of you, desperate for release. The sight turns you on, and a sudden, betraying moan escapes your lips, tiny but loud enough for Yeosang to halt all his actions at once. His eyes snap open in panic, meeting yours, and he freezes in place, turning as red as a tomato.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? I mean, it’s your house too, so obviously you’re here, but—how… ah… when did you come back? I-I can explain… oh shit… I’m really sorry you had to see this” he stammers, embarrassed that you caught him in the act.

“Yeosang, it’s okay. I—” you start to calm him down, but he cuts you off, continuing to apologize.

“I’m really sorry, the girl who was supposed to come over canceled last minute, and I’m just really stressed about the play. You know they preponed the dates! What the hell am I gonna do now? There’s so little time left” he rambles, dumping all his worries on you as he moves closer.

“Yeosang!” you yell, stopping him in his tracks. “Calm down, please. Yeah, I heard about the preponement, but I trust you, so you’re going to pull it off.” Your words seemed to calm him down, at least a little. You continue, “Secondly, I’m sorry the girl canceled on you last minute.” It was a bit surprising, considering no one ever cancels on Yeosang. He has that magnetic charm and a reputation for sleeping around.

“And finally, do you want me to help with that?” you ask, a mischievous smile on your lips as your fingers point toward his throbbing length.

“Huh… umm… well, y/n… uh… yes, please.” he hesitates for a moment but eventually accepts your offer.

A smile appears on your face as you stride toward him, settling on your knees in front of him as he sits on the bed. The thought of his best friend and roommate taking him in her mouth still feels a bit unsettling for him. You, on the other hand, aren’t the slightest bit hesitant or doubtful about the bliss he’s about to experience, promising him a blowjob he’ll remember for eternity.

Removing your shirt, you gently wrap your fingers around his hard length, giving it a stroke. Yeosang grunts, taking deep breaths as his eyes shift between your exposed chest and your hands playing with his dick. Your tongue delivers kitten licks to clean up his leaking precum while your hand keeps stroking him, the other hand busy massaging his balls. Yeosang’s body trembles at the delicious sensations your tongue is giving him.

You stroke him slowly, teasingly, as Yeosang's breaths grow heavier, his head falling back . His soft moans only fuels your desire to push him further.

Without warning, you take him fully into your mouth, lips wrapping tightly around his length. Yeosang groans, hands gripping the sheets, as you take him deeper with each bob of your head. Your tongue works skillfully, drawing out his breathless, needy moans.

The room fills with the soft, wet sounds of your mouth as you drive him closer to the edge, his worries melting away as you push him to new heights.

“Y/N!!... I-I’m gonna—” Yeosang’s voice breaks, a mixture of desperation and bliss, and before he can finish, you feel him spill into your mouth. You don’t stop until he’s completely undone, his body going limp as he falls back on the bed, breaths shaky.

As you pull away, wiping your lips, you glance up at him. Yeosang’s eyes are half-lidded, his face flushed, a relaxed smile tugging at his lips. “You really... took all my tension away.” he breathes out, still catching his breath. “In theatre terms, you took me to the stars.” A small chuckle escapes him as he tries to recover from the heavenly pleasure you just gave him.

You give him a playful smirk. “Told you I could help.”

—

Two days later, Yeosang's play becomes a massive hit, receiving a standing ovation with the crowd going wild over the beautiful performance. The cast somehow pulled it off, and Yeosang was incredible. You couldn’t help but smile, remembering your cheeky little contribution.

Backstage, you go around congratulating the cast, fist-bumping Wooyoung and ruffling San’s hair for their stellar performances. You're busy chatting with Woosan when Yeosang approaches, tapping your shoulder with a big smile on his gorgeous face.

“Congrats, Yeosang! The play was amazing, and your performance was literally the cherry on top, totally worthy of the standing ovation.” you say, congratulating him.

“Thank you so much... umm... for helping me, with the play, of course.” he stammers a bit before finally asking, “Can we talk?” Your eyes narrow, but you nod. Woosan exchanges a knowing look, and they give you both privacy, which is surprising considering how nosy Wooyoung can be.

“Thank you for helping that day... umm, without your support, I couldn’t have pulled this off, really. I was very tense and distracted, and you helped me focus.” he says shyly, a red blush creeping onto his cheeks. He hesitates before asking, “Can I do something in return for you?”

“Umm… no, nothing. I really can’t think of anything right now, Yeosang.” you reply, pretending you don’t want anything. To be honest, you enjoy playing hard to get, and Yeosang’s desperate pleas definitely fuel that.

“Anything, please. I really want to show how thankful I am.”

“Honestly, there is nothing, Yeosang.” you reply, trying your hardest not to smirk.

He sighs, frustrated and almost giving up, but he tries to throw one last bone at you.

“Let’s make a deal.” he begins. “In two days, we both have a stage play together. If we successfully pull it off, I will give you anything you want.” He pauses before adding what he wants in return. “I want us to have sex in our main lead costumes.” He speaks confidently, a bit smug and laid back, suddenly exuding a newfound confidence.

Gotcha! You had a feeling Yeosang had a thing for costume sex, but his offer today finally seals the deal.

“Okay, deal!” you say, shaking his hand with a smirk on your face. “What do you want to do?” Yeosang pushes, looking like such a cute, desperate puppy.

“I want you to play with them.” you reply, pointing at your perfect model-sized breasts, bulging out of your tight top, showing no hint of shame in your demand.

"Sneaking a glance at your juicy breasts, a satisfied smile plays on his lips as Yeosang shakes your hand. 'Deal!'”

—

Urgency takes over Yeosang as he drags you to his private room backstage. Yes, he has a private room. It’s goddamn Yeosang we’re talking about—the best lead in the whole theater. After a three-hour play, a standing ovation, and a chorus of praise from not just your friends but the guests as well, you can confidently say the play was a success.

Now it’s time to fulfill the deal: a fully clothed costume makeout session and some cheeky boob play, just as promised, by both sides.

The air in the room is thick with anticipation as Yeosang stands before you, glowing in his main lead costume, looking like the charming prince he is. You look no less than Cinderella, the costume adorning your body like a second skin, emphasizing your curves and amplifying the necessary parts of your beautiful form.

Yeosang's eyes shine with mischief and desire as he drinks in your beauty, thinking to himself what took him so long to make a move on you.

“I can’t believe we’re about to do this,” he says, his voice a mixture of excitement and desire.

You nod, biting your lip as you take in the sight of him. “We made a deal, remember?”

With a swift motion, he closes the gap, his hands gripping your waist firmly as he pulls you against him. The warmth of his body sends shivers down your spine. “Right. A deal.”

His lips crash against yours, igniting a fiery passion as he deepens the kiss. You can feel the heat radiating from him, the thrill of being in your costumes adding to your arousal, and his bulge is evident of his turned-on state, even through the thick fabric of the costume.

“Wanna make this memorable? Let me take you to the stars, sweetheart,” his inner seductor speaks as he murmurs against your lips, a smirk adorning his face.

Slowly walking you backward, your legs hit the couch. Without breaking the kiss, Yeosang gently pushes you onto the couch. Biting your lower lip, he works on your corset, freeing your juicy tits, as a moan escapes your lips.

Breaking the kiss, Yeosang takes a moment to adore the breathtaking sight in front of him. Your milky tits look extremely tempting, begging to be showered with attention, while your flushed face turns him on even more with every passing second.

Yeosang's hands cup your juicy breasts, sending a shiver of pleasure through you. He leans down, his lips brushing against your soft skin, sending electric sparks across your body. “You’re so beautiful.” he murmurs before taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

The warmth of his mouth envelops you, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as he suckles gently, drawing soft moans from your lips. You arch your back, each flick of his tongue sending waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you feel yourself growing more desperate for him.

“Yeosang…” you gasp, biting your lip, trying to contain the pleasure building within you. But he only smirks, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. With a teasing flick of his tongue, he switches to your other breast, showering it with the same adoration.

He lavishes your breasts with love bites, kissing a trail from one nipple to the other, taking his time to worship every inch of your soft skin. His hands knead your breasts, fingers teasing your nipples, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure that drives you crazy.

“Yeosang, please, harder.” you beg, your voice shaky with need, urging him on. The sensations are overwhelming and intoxicating. He knows exactly how to play you, how to bring you to the edge and keep you hanging there, desperate for release.

He responds by increasing the intensity of his actions, alternating between gentle kisses and teasing bites, sucking your breasts with passionate urgency. The heat pooling in your core intensifies with each passing moment, and you feel your body ready to surrender to the pleasure. To him.

Finally, with one last passionate suck, he pulls back slightly, looking deep into your eyes. “Want more, honey. I can do a lot more if you allow me to show you.” he whispers, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine.

“I need you, Yeosang. Right now.” a needy demand escapes your lips, your arousal pooling at your core, leaving you panty-wet and dripping with desire. As you lift your dress, Yeosang’s fingers brush against your wetness, checking for the mess he’s made, a smirk appearing on his face.

“So wet… all for me, baby.” His innocent yet charming gazehas yyou breaking you apart. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted this until you had a taste of him that day. The days in waiting had been painful, but you knew Yeosang wouldn’t disappoint.

A soft rub of Yeosang’s hard length against your dripping core pulls you back as a moan escapes your lips. He’s freed himself from his pants just enough to tease you, ready to take you to the stars. Your panties lie discarded in the corner of the couch, and your dress is lifted just enough to allow him to enter you.

Yeosang's eyes darken with desire as he positions himself at your entrance. “Are you ready?” he whispers, ensuring you’re holding up.

“Yes.” you reply breathlessly, your heart racing with excitement and need.

With one smooth motion, he pushes into you, filling you completely. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel him stretch you, the heat and pressure sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. He pauses for a moment, allowing you to adjust, his gaze locked onto yours, deepening the intimacy of the moment you two are sharing.

“God, you feel incredible.” he groans, slowly beginning to thrust, each movement intoxicating and rhythmic. His pace grows faster and more urgent as your bodies move in perfect harmony. You can feel the heat pooling in your core, the tension rising as he drives deeper, hitting all the right spots that make you gasp and moan.

“Yeosang… harder, please.”you plead, desperation dripping from your voice. He responds instantly, quickening his pace, his hands gripping your hips as he takes you, desire pouring into his thrusts. The world outside fades away; it’s just you and him, lost in each other.

Every thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through you, your bodies slick with sweat from the costumes and the heat of the moment as you approach the edge together. You can feel the ecstasy drawing you closer to release.

“Together, baby.” he urges. “I want us to finish this together.”

With a final thrust, pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave as you decorate his skillful cock with your juices. Yeosang groans, filling you completely, his release washing over you both in a euphoric wave of warmth and satisfaction.

You cling to each other, breathing heavily as the aftershocks of pleasure fade, leaving you both breathless and spent.

“That was everything I hoped for.” he murmurs, a genuine smile breaking across his face, happiness mirroring your blissful expression, with no regret in sight.

“You truly took me to the stars, Yeosang.” you reply, still recovering from the intensity of the experience. As you both catch your breath, you know this is a night you’ll never forget.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[hwanchaesong]

Ephemeral (Second Chances) Preview

pairing: Jungwon X F!Reader

synopsis: You sat and listened to the silence, the time ticked and you watched him walk down the aisle full of strangers. What scared you though, was the fact that everyone was blurry except for his dimples that you used to kiss.

word count: tba

genre & warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, warnings tba

a/n: this is a teaser for the upcoming Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels series that i've been working on. i hope y'all look forward to it. please don't hesitate to tell me if you wanted to be added to the taglist. tysm 🩷

"Red roses are good. Also, please add some white lillies and pink carnations into the roster, she'll love it." you rambled to the florist, but she merely gave you an understanding nod and proceeded to work with your request.

A yawn was heard from the corner of the shop and you suppressed the urge to punch the suspect of the offending sound, you chose the peaceful option of ignoring the person, continuing to mind your own business not until someone broke the silence that you've been enjoying.

"What's taking so long?" he asked, boredom lacing his tone, and that's when you whipped around to give him a warning look.

"Jungwon, picking the perfect flowers takes some time. If you want to go home, then go. No one's stopping you." you sassily replied, gracing him a tight lipped smile on the process.

It irked you even more when he rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath that you're sure is a snide remark towards you.

You sighed, rubbing your forehead and pondering of some ways to de-stress later. Surely, planning a proposal with your ex-boyfriend is something that you, a sane person, wouldn't do during your free time but here you are.

What was your brother even thinking, sending you with this jerk (which is conveniently his best friend), to help and prepare for the upcoming surprise for his girlfriend. Of course you'd love to do whatever you can for your dear sibling, but this is ruthless.. and plain torture.

Just before you go deeper within your thoughts, a handsome man holding a bouquet of your chosen flowers emerged from the back room. He beamed at you, his eyes crinkling adorably and his dimples poked through his cheeks.

"Hello there!" he greeted you with joy, polite but bright and it made you naturally smile as well. Like they say, happiness is a virus that can easily infect anyone.

"Yes, hello uhm.." you trailed off, looking at his name tag, "Soobin?"

"That's me." he giggled and dear lord, were you about to burst at his charming facade, "I'm the floral designer here and I wanna ask if you're okay with this presentation?" he raised an eyebrow, showing you the beautifully arranged bunch of flowers, wrapped in an abaca and tied with a pink ribbon.

"Oh, it's gorgeous! You're great at this." you exclaimed, making the tall man blush, getting shy at your compliment.

"Ah, not really. The flowers are doing most of the work here, which I'm guessing are your favorites?" he scratched the back of his head, gazing at you with a soft smile.

Jungwon on the other hand frowned, like, what the fuck is this exchange of flirting he's seeing?

Not. Fucking. Tolerable.

He stood up from where he was seated, slamming his hand on the counter, effectively startling the two people who were conversing which gave him immense satisfaction.

"That's good enough. We'll take that." he feigned a charming smile, allowing the dent on his cheeks to show as well.

That Soobin guy can go to hell, his height and deep voice (that were a stark contrast to his own traits) do not matter, he's not the only one with dimples here.

You were shocked, surprised, disturbed, all adjectives out there are not enough to describe the bombshell that Jungwon dropped, but you weren't gonna stand there and let him be rude. Right as you were about to tell him off and apologize to Soobin, he managed to leave an impact again.

This time, it's fatal for your poor, weak heart.

"And those aren't her favorites. It's a combination of lilac, purple peonies and white tulips, actually."

You craned your neck to look at him, realizing the small proximity you two are in. He's mere inches away from you. Too close that you're able to see his sharp side profile and inhale the scent that you've tried to desperately forget during the sleepless nights where all you've wanted was to be held by him.

You have forgotten about Soobin by now, the vow that you took, the walls that you've built, everything. The only thing that you care about as of the moment is that Jungwon remembers.

Jungwon still knows the flowers that you wanted for your own wedding.

taglist

@lilyuwon @ramenoil

[hils79]

Hils Watches Tibetan Sea Flower - Ep 1

Yeah, sorry to The Spirealm but I've been very upfront about my intention to drop everything as soon as Tibetan Sea Flower came out.

I wasn't expecting it to drop overnight while I was asleep with zero warning but here we are. The DMBJ fandom is the embodiment of chaos and that extends to the way they release things too.

Also apologies to Choi San. I was going to gif you today but, well, see the above.

Apparently the official English title for this is Adventures Behind the Bronze Door but we've all been calling it Tibetan Sea Flower forever and that's also the title of the novella so I'm using that for my liveblogs. I'll use both titles in the tags.

Right, I've rambled enough. I'm going in.

Oh, god, I'm not ready.

Okay, first of all OMG LOOK AT HIS CUTE LITTLE FACE! But, also, I love that this flashback has him still looking older than he does in the retirement era movies

I mean he is not a skilled tomb raider, this is true. That doesn't stop him from trying though

Wait, that's the baby triangle! Are you telling me a 27 year old and a 44 year old are playing a character at the same age? I know I shouldn't expect logic from DMBJ but come on

Wait, is this a completely different actor? At first I thought they'd just used special effects to make Zhang Luyi look younger but I don't think that's actually him at all

Aww it's nice to see Wang Bowen back too. I do enjoy his Pangzi

Okay, but why is Young Pangzi being played by the same person who played retirement age Pangzi in the movies. MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!

I don't know who this is because the drama doesn't even had a MDL page yet but I like him. He's a good baby Wu Xie. Look at his little face when Pangzi says they need to go and see if Xiaoge is still alive or not

There's our special boy!

Starting with the whump early. Love to see it.

Only 20 mins into the first episode and Pangzi is crying because he thinks he found Xiaoge's body. I'm fine. This is fine.

FFS I know he's not dead and this is still devastating

Take a drink! It's the standard DMBJ hallucination!

Oh, not even that! It was all a dream!

Bleeding himself to lower his heart rate enough to fake being dead is definitely a very Xiaoge thing to do

I guess that's one way of describing what happened

Is he...using his architecture skills to map out the Zhang ancestral home that he went to? IS HE DOING ACTUAL ARCHITECTURE?

And wipe out an entire family so it was safe for Xiaoge when he got out, but we don't need to mention that small detail

I do like that this one shot shows you how obsessed and unhinged Wu Xie was during the time Xiaoge was gone

AH HAH! Now he's Zhang Luyi!

SURPRISE JI XIAOBING XIAO HUA????

A NEW XIUXIU??? Everything happens so much!

Baby, do you know what franchise you're in?

So weird seeing Xiaoge without his hood

Well, that was a lot. And I still have another 2 episodes to watch. Good thing it's a bank holiday here today

[wynnyfryd]

🎵 Troll Toll 🎵

written for the @steddiemicrofic January prompt: ‘hole,’ 404 words | rated M | tags: future fic, crossover, crack treated ridiculously @griefabyss69 i hope you’re proud of yourself

Steve’s gonna kill Dustin.

Earlier this afternoon, on day five of visiting the kid in his new city (nevermind that Dustin’s pushing forty with two kids of his own; he’s always a kid to Steve), Eddie had started grumbling about how he wanted to see the real Philadelphia, not this “Liberty Bell Nic Cage pro America sanitized bullshit!” or whatever the fuck he liked to ramble about ever since his band got paid to do a commercial for Obama, and Dustin, who’d spent a month meticulously curating their tour of Philly’s finest cultural establishments, had rolled his eyes hard and pointed them toward a shady little Irish pub and hollered, “Fine! You want the real Philly? Go find her, you ungrateful dickheads, I’m going home!”

Which is how they found themselves here, at the worst goddamn musical Steve has ever seen.

“So, uh… just to be. So clear,” Eddie starts, dead-eyed stare into the middle distance as they filter out of the auditorium, the performers still screeching at each other loud enough to hear them from the sidewalk. He jams his thumb into the space between his furrowed brows. “Did I just take us to a play about child molestation? Is that- is that what just-?”

….Yeah.

Yeah, he definitely did — Steve’s pretty sure the little alcoholic guy who invited them to this thing spent most of act two singing about a boy’s hole — but Eddie looks as pale as the pair of goth weirdos standing behind them, so Steve aims for casual. Slurps the last of his Diet Coke and shrugs, “No, I think it was about, like, personal growth and shit.”

Eddie does not look reassured.

Behind him, the goth girl smacks a creepy balding guy upside the head and spits in a thick European accent, “Colin Robinson, why the hell did you bring us all the way to this terrible city just to watch this stee-upid bloody musical?”

“Oh, I don’t know, dahling,” the equally pale and dramatic man to her left chimes in, “I thought the Dayman reprise was, ah-rrRiveting-uh.”

Jesus Christ. Fucking theater people.

The balding guy doesn’t answer, but Steve swears he sees his eyes flash blue, and okay. Yeah, he’s had enough of the real city now, thank you very fucking much.

“Come on,” he says in a hush, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and trying his best to not freak out. “I’m calling us a cab.”

[valscodblog]

ℙ𝕀𝕊𝕋𝕆𝕃𝔸 -Part three

Warnings: Use of alcoholic beverages, Mentions of a man wanting a lady in a sexual way, vulgar language,

Credits to oc: MEEEEEE <3

Previous Parts: pt.1, pt.2 ---->Next Part

Tags: @skauni, @2econd-of-1sts, @rainyrambles-overcod, @thebunnednun, @karlachismylife (you seemed interested last time i spoke of this series) <333333

Maria hummed softly as she did her eyeliner. When was the last time she had let anyone taker her out? She couldn't recall. But that's fine because here she was, about to get picked up by Alejandro Vargas. The Alejandro Vargas...Her fucking Boss. What was she doing? This was her boss and all her New rookies would be right...but she liked him. A lot more than she should've for someone like herself.

Ay, dios mio, who cares? She thought as did her hair, just a simple ponytail...or should she leave it down? Let him see the curls? She hummed, took her hair out and, for a moment, saw her mother. She gulped and quickly put it back up. There, Maria...now you look like your Tia Sarita. And she's pretty enough.

She walked out of her bathroom and heard a car pull into the driveway. Alejandro. She threw on some black heels and giggled. Why was she giggling? Fuck. She was happy...couldn't let him know that. A knock on her door. She opened it and saw Alejandro in a tuxedo. She quirked a brow up "Y que es esto?" she asked, grabbing the poorly tied tie. She quickly redid it for him and saw how it made him smile.

"You said somewhere fancy...Si o no?" "Hmm, Si...I did, but-" "No buts, vamos! I even got out the good car." Maria blinked. He had other cars? "Well. The one car i don't use for work. Sports car," he rambled. And she listened. They walked out to the car and Maria blurted out, "Camaro, two thousand and eighteen, right?" Alejandro quirked a brow up. "You know about cars?" Maria blushed and looked down at her heels. "Not a lot...just, some models and standard facts."

Alejandro chuckled and opened the passanger seat's door for her. "Well, hop in if you want." And she did. She got in, sat down, buckled up and hummed. Clean...new air freshener...soft music playing when he turned on the engine. Okay...she had to give it to him. This was looking to be a very good impression on her. She smiled and asked, "So where'd you buy this?" Alejandro hummed and said, "Off of Rudy's uncle. He was going to scrap it, but i told him i'd take it and fix it up. Wasn't really all that bad, but still."

Maria nodded, "Why was he gonna scrap it?" "Someone brought it to his junkyard." "Ah..." Maria nodded again. Alejandro hummed and smoothly turned the wheel-wait. What? Why was she looking at the way he palm was laying on the steering wheel? The way his fingers let go of it and the way he moved said palm with the wheel as it turned.

Get your head together, Maria.

She hummed softly and looked out the window. Fuck, say something or this will be one hell of an awkward drive. "So, where are we going, anyways?" she asked, Alejandro chuckled and said, "You said not to tell. So I'm not." and Maria fake pouted. Alejandro snuck a glace over to her and sighed, he was such a weak man when it came to her. "It's a good place, trust me...they have pretty good food...nothing on my cooking, but edible enough." Maria laughed. "Says el hombre who can't even bake cookies." Alejandro groaned.

"Will you ever let me live that down, Mi Amor?" Maria shook her head, "No." Alejandro sighed again and parked the car. Wow. Fast driver. Wonder what else he's fast at? Wait-no. Fuck no-"Maria...Essstaaas biieno orr?" Alejandro dragged out uncertainly, she nodded and said, "Si, si, just uhm..." she looked down at her heels. Alejandro took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. "You don't have to say. Vamos."

He took her hand gently and she let him. Alejandro felt like he was walking on eggshells the whole time he was holding her hand...he didn't know why though. Well, maybe it's because you've seen what she can do, Estupido, he scolded himself. He checked in for his reservation and got lead to a private table. Alejandro pulled out her chair for her. "Well?" Maria smirked and sat down.

"Well what?" "Tu sabes, Alejandro..."

And he did indeed know what she wanted. He smiled down at her and murmured, "Ay, Mi Amor..."

Yeah, like Rudy had said....He was hopeless. And In love.

[naffeclipse]

Hi, hi! I'm sure you are totally unaware of me going through your blog just now XD

But! I saw a bit of Humpback Y/N and I can't stop thinking about the small drabble you wrote way back! (Can't find it unfortunately, or don't know the specific tag to look for it hkfdg) But it was the one about how their relationship would advance and by the end of it y/n gets stuck on top of some thick ice. And it's so incredibly dangerous for someone the size of y/n for that to happen to of course! And I remember they were trapped up there for a good while, which weakened them considerably, even if they don't quite get to the actual size of a humpback whale. And I seem to recall that when Eclipse finds them they hear him teasing them for their situation (or perceive it that way at least), but they have no energy so they don't answer him at all.

And aaa I just can't stop thinking about that specific moment, because from Eclipse's perspective that must have rang every single alarm bell. This mer, who has been antagonizing him since they met, able to keep up with him in both snark and their little competition, who has grown on him so much and become a constant, physically capable of manhandling him and pettily blocking him from getting to his prey easily, who is large and majestic and physically imposing, and has always given him a challenge, they are now still and worryingly quite, still moving but having none of their usual spark, their energy, and suddenly he might realize that they've been there much longer that he perhaps thought, that time is ticking and they are weakening by the second. And then he breaks the ice and catches them, just as they are passing out!

And aaa I can't help but be curious of what happens next! Because god, if they're passed out he'd have to make sure they can remain breathing, but also try and check them to make sure they haven't been too damaged by having to support their own weight for so long, that they will be able to swim on their own when they wake. And if they need healing before they can move well again, likely he'd have to help them get food, at least until they can get back to their pod.

Would he try to stubbornly take care of them himself? Or when they seem well enough take them to their pod who can more easily take care of them the rest of the way, which might be for the best since they are so big? Aaaaa lots of questions! But I live for that hurt comfort haha XD

Anyways yes, just wanted to ramble a little about this two, because that last scene sure gave me a lot of feels gfkjhkhjds

I love each and every notif, babe <3

Ah, yes! It flips in Eclipse's head from playfully 'maybe they might need help' to 'oh no' the second they don't respond as they should, as they have during their time battling back and forth! He's immediately on it. When they do sink into his arms through the broken ice, he pulls them quickly to the open ocean and cradles their head on his chest, floating to let them breathe and rest. Y/N is okay, but they are exhausted and need a moment or two to regain their strength before swimming on their own again.

Eclipse doesn't want anyone to take Y/N from him when he needs to make sure they're okay, so he cares for them by himself, without alerting their pod. It would be wiser to let sirens their size attempt to keep them afloat while they rest but Eclipse is nothing if not determined (and a little frightened by finding his lovely, strong siren in such a weakened state).

Ahh, I'm glad you enjoy these two! <3

[kefiteria]

Serenity in My Eyes.

Character: scaramouche/wanderer x reader

Tags: fluff, one shot!

Synopsis: just taking a leisurely strolls with scara at cherry blossom park, adorable and short!

🍨 A/N: i got inspiration to wrote fanfic from this song while walking outside earlier today~ He's more of a Wanderer here but I decided to use 'Scaramouche' because it's more natural for me to write it that way~

“Oh, so you're finally here… took you long enough.” Scaramouche remarked, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes in mock excitement as he spotted you. Despite his sarcastic tone, there was a hint of genuine pleasure at seeing you. The promise to hang out had been made, and spring was the perfect time to catch up, with the cherry blossom in full bloom.

“Hi there!” you greet cheerfully, noticing the crowd gathering around. “Looks like there are more people here than expected. I thought an early morning stroll would mean fewer crowds.”

You shrug your shoulders, but Scaramouche continues walking without waiting for your rambling. “Well, excuse me for trying to lighten the mood.” you mutter under your breath, a hint of annoyance creeping into your tone.

He glances back at you with a raised eyebrow, “Tone it down, will you? It's far too early for that level of energy.” His words are laced with sarcasm, but you detect a hint of amusement in his expression.

As the two of you strolled, Scaramouche couldn't help but comment on the cherry blossom picnics that mortals enjoyed during this season. “Ah, the cherry blossoms,” he mused, “a perfect backdrop for mortals to frolic and gossip.” He glanced around, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “But you know how I feel about crowds.” he added, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Fortunately, a single glare from me and they scatter like leaves in the wind, much to my endless amusement.”

You chuckle softly and remark, “Is it just me, or are you actually enjoying their reactions? Perhaps this stroll with me isn't as tedious as you make it out to be.”

His response comes with a snarky scoff, “Oh, please. Don't get delusional now. Enjoying your company doesn't mean I'm suddenly softening up. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here.” Despite his dismissive tone, there's a subtle twinkle in his eye, hinting at a begrudging acknowledgment of the enjoyment in your presence.

The scattering cherry blossom petals and blooming bushes painted a picturesque scene, but to Scaramouche, it felt like a mundane and random activity. He couldn't comprehend why you chose this as a way to hang out with him.

In his eyes, your simple act of taking a leisurely stroll seemed unfathomable. The way you breathed in the crisp spring air, the gentle warmth of the sunlight caressing your skin, and the delicate petals swirling around you as if in a final dance—all of it left him perplexed. Why did the sun's rays warm his heart? Why did the spring breeze leave him breathless? And why did the falling petals, following your every step, create an impressionist painting-like aura around you?

Despite his analytical mind trying to rationalize it all, there was an undeniable beauty at the moment, a surreal quality that made him question his perceptions of the world around him.

Scaramouche muttered softly to himself as he approached you, his expression a mixture of confusion and frustration. “You… make me confused.” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why do the petals have to fall around you? Why does the sunlight seem to spotlight only you? Why… tell me why, do you make me feel this longing…"

Suddenly, he snapped out of his reverie, his annoyance evident as he scoffed at his thoughts. “Forget it,” he dismissed, shaking his head.

Concerned by his sudden change in demeanor, you offered to move to a quieter spot with fewer people. “Are you okay?” you asked, noticing his preoccupied state.

“Don't bother-” he retorted, but before he could finish his sentence, you handed him a camera, cutting off his words. “Alright, Mr. Snarky Man, how about less scoffing and more pictures!” you exclaimed, striking a pose with a playful laugh.

Caught off guard by your spontaneity, Scaramouche couldn't help but be intrigued. With a reluctant smirk, he raised the camera, silently conceding to your request. Despite his initial resistance, there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he captured the moments with you.

“Ugh, how many pictures am I supposed to take? Hurry, I'm here to indulge in this 'hangout', not become your personal photographer.” Scaramouche grumbled, though his hands continued to snap away, capturing every angle and scenery of the cherry blossom park as you requested.

With a playful grin, you insisted on one last shot—a close-up of you with the beautiful background. Chuckling at his resigned expression, you knew he was trying his best, despite his protests.

As he groaned and reluctantly set the camera's focus on you, you couldn't help but smile at his begrudging cooperation. “Fine, listen to my count,” he instructed, his tone stern yet tinged with amusement. “This is the last one. If it turns out ugly or anything, it's your fault, not mine. Don't whine later.”

You nodded eagerly, ready to strike your pose. “Yeah, I won't complain! Okay, okay, I'm ready!” you declared, beaming brightly at the camera lens as Scaramouche prepared to capture the final shot. Yet a few seconds passed, he didn't click the button.

“Huh? You haven't clicked it, silly!” you exclaimed, holding back your laughter as you maintained your pose.

“I love you.” Scaramouche confessed softly, finally clicking the camera.

And with that heartfelt declaration, the moment was captured, forever frozen in time.

[whatevertheweather]

Hi hello. I miss y'all. That is my own fault but it's still true, and I'm writing this on saturday night and feeling maudlin about how wonderful and talented and dear this fandom is and how I never join in anymore, so I'm making my little post okay.

I'm going with Musical Chairs again because it's so far past time for that to be done. And I've said this before, but it is approaching done. And I'm gonna get into that, but it'll all be behind the scenes rambling, so it's below the cut, and for those who don't want to delve that far, here is some freshly written Penny POV.

“Ah,” Shepard smiled, “a good deed wasn’t motive enough on its own?” “Not when it’s for a stupid reason.” “What is your un-stupid reason?” “Un-stupid?” Penny repeated. She turned resolutely to her drink. “Nevermind. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” “Hey now,” Shepard said, ducking into her line of sight. “You struck me as someone who prefers being honest.” It was a job not to smile at that, but Penny put the work in.

Now for the mess.

It's a good mess I think. I have a new section in my miscellany document, tucked in between nine (9) sections of ramblings and cut scenes, and the new section is called "we got it this time boys," and I think it's right. I've written a full draft of the scene that's been holding us all back. It's there in its entirety, it just needs to be edited. And I'm so scared to reread it, because every time I think I got this scene right I come back and it's wrong. Which I've decided to be fine with, because so what!!! So what if I got 36k right and there's 5k that doesn't quite hit the way I want it to!!! The earth will keep spinning!!!

Anyway, "we got it this time boys" is 3 pages of what is technically kind of an outline for 5 pages of story, and every time I read the header it's in the voice of someone from some black-and-white hardboiled detective noir, which brings me the joy that might be the only reason I feel I've gotten it right in the first place. The outline is all written about as cohesively as it starts:

I think maybe, and gosh haven’t I said this a million times, I just need to stop trying to go that way. Stop trying to go any way. Like always “how do I get them to this moment” instead of “what would they do in this situation.” Unfortunately, the latter requires I connect with them on a level I’m not sure I can right now. But I guess let’s try. Actually let’s go for a walk, I can see the sun setting on the top of the house across the way and it’s lovely. Okay nice, it was lovely. Relaxing, refreshing. Saw a stump that looked like a beaver. Saw a cat. Thought of the opening to something I’m never going to write. So anyway,

It also sort of ends with:

Oh shit came up on an obstacle immediately. [Redacted]. This does not actually open the door for Baz to say something that can incite “[Redacted].” Fuck god okay whoops already going completely back on all I’ve decided and thinking maybe we could keep some of the new exchange I’d written, maybe he does reveal the ugh no stop I hate this. Just figure out a transition to bring in [...], what would Baz say to that other than what I’ve written him saying to that which doesn’t work for what I’m trying to do. I guess it could just be, like…he murmurs incorrigible. Or something. With a raised brow, a la baz. Sure let’s do that, however, I’ve laid down to do this and learned I’m actually quite sleepy, so let’s do it another time. Hopefully I don’t come up on another immediate problem and despair. Just remember not to start combining things and rereading things yet, okay. Please.

This would be alarming if I hadn't already gotten past this point and written the thing. So I'm going to go into editing it with the mindset that nothing substantial shall change and boohoo to me if I want it to, and once that's done we're pretty much home free.

Now tags.

Gonna dip a toe back into being melancholy and wistful about this fandom k, I really do miss it even though I'm the only one keeping me out. You're all my friends even if that is a surprise for you to hear because we haven't talked in months or maybe ever, but I love each and every one of you x

@fatalfangirl @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @moodandmist @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy

@bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @mooncello @noblecorgi @alexalexinii

@rimeswithpurple @ivelovedhimthroughworse @basiltonbutliketheherb @whogaveyoupermission @facewithoutheart

@martsonmars @iamamythologicalcreature @run-for-chamo-miles @thewholelemon

@forabeatofadrum @youarenevertooold @ileadacharmedlife @monbons

[tj-dragonblade]

Hi! I'd like to hear something about the fishbowl therapy fic, please!

Ah, this is probably my favorite year-old idea that I really want to write but haven't quite gotten around to. I like the concept, I like the visuals that I've got in head, but so much of the necessary conversations just fizzle when I try to flesh them out. I'm sure I can get it right if I focus on it long enough, though. The long rambly synopsis with a tiny snippet of drafting included:

Sometime after their 2022 reunion, with more frequent meetings etc, Dream finally tells Hob why he missed their 1989 meeting. And Hob is very much Not Okay about it. He has so many feelings - the horror of his friend having been held captive that long, rage on Dream's behalf, self-recrimination that he didn't know, he could have done something if he'd known, and a crushing guilt over every unkind thought he had after 1989 (never mind that he got over them, he still thought them in the first place and his friend was stuck in a glass cage while Hob was wallowing in self-pity and uncharitable assumptions).

But Hob stuffs all his feelings about this down inside, because what kind of friend would he be to make Dream's trauma-sharing all about his own reaction? So he tries very hard to keep his own feelings out of the conversation, aside from some commiserative vindication when Dream confirms that everyone who held him is either dead or dealt with.

But he is Extremely Upset about it all evening, and ends up dreaming about it. Dream catches awareness of his distress, visits the dream. He didn't give Hob specifics in their conversation, 'a glass cage' and 'basement' were the key details and Hob has dreamed up something akin to a zoo exhibit - the cage is rectangular, three glass walls attached to a fourth stone wall, roomy enough to pace about in, a proper semblance of a bed in one corner. Dream watches as Hob stands on the outside, talking to the dream-version of Dream inside the cell - a Dream who still has his clothes, he had not shared that detail with Hob either - and makes himself known after only a moment. Hob is apologetic, he's so sorry he's making this all about himself, but Dream is…pleased, by his distress. 'Pleased' is not quite the word, but it is comforting to know that someone is so upset on his behalf. He takes the place of his dream-self within the cell, urges Hob to continue, to tell him everything he's held back. It's easy to be detached from the memory when the setting is wrong, and he is warmed despite everything at how vehemently Hob insists he would have come, how sorry he is for thinking Dream had chosen to stay away, etc etc. Eventually they are talking about how Dream is coping with it, is he healing from his trauma, and of course he says it does not bother him, but Hob is like 'If I'd spent more than a hundred years cooped up in this -' gesturing at the spacious cage he's envisioned '- I'd be - I'd be something. I wouldn't just be okay about it.' And Dream, feeling peevish and daring, decides to push.

"It was not like this," he says. "You dream it too kind."

Hob blinks at him. "…What?"

"You dream it too kind," Dream repeats. "Shall I show you the truth of it?"

"I…okay," Hob agrees, foreboding and unease in his tone, and Dream shifts the basement around them. With less than a thought he is naked in the suspended glass orb again, the painted stars mocking him from above and the the binding circle a sickly glow beneath him, the dank reaches of the underbelly of Fawney Rig stretching into infinity in every direction. Hob stumbles back a step with a shocked cry, horror flooding his features; he nearly flails backwards into the moat and steps forward again, stumbles to his knees, staring up at Dream with tears flooding his eyes.

"What the fuck—god, Dream—!"

And while he's processing all over again the full depth of the horror that was done to his friend, Dream is feeling something akin to panic creeping over him now that he's here again. He is less okay than he thought he was, the memory is pressing in again, and he focuses on Hob's distress to mitigate his own. There's gotta be a moment of both of them pressing hands to the glass; they get to a point where Hob just sort of spirals into a frenzy of 'gotta get you out, gotta get you out' that feeds Dream's own latent panic that he's definitly not giving in to, never mind that he can't stop repeating 'Free me, Hob, free me' (?) over and over. Hob's scrabbling about for anything that might help him break the glass and shortly dreams up a crowbar; he scrambles to his feet and starts swinging. It's thick glass, and magical etc, and it takes Hob whaling on it quite a lot before it begins to crack, and plenty more hits before it shatters. Whereupon Dream drops to the floor, free, unbothered by the broken glass all around. Hob suddenly has a jacket so that he can take it off and wrap it around Dream, and somewhere in the surging relief of the re-enacted rescue Hob just flings his arms around Dream and kisses him. Dream is taken by surprise, but things are definitely falling into place for him and he kisses back. Hob jerks back, doing a full 'oh shit I kissed him my secret's out I've ruined everything' kind of take; Dream just grabs the front of his shirt and yanks him back down, kisses him again.

There is a little more conversation here in the dream as heat and realization build; then Dream, 'weary of this wretched basement' and wanting Hob to remember all of this, ends the dream and manifests in Hob's bed as Hob wakes. There is sex and conversation to finish it out, Dream finally voicing out loud how much it means that there is someone who would have come for him, who will come to his defense no matter how unnecessary, who thinks he's worth the effort of rescuing.

Like I said, I stumble over the conversations somewhat and that makes it easy to let this one languish in the depths of the wip file. All that Hob-pov exposition at the beginning isn't really part of it either, since this will be Dream's pov, but I've got to convey all that via Hob talking to dream-Dream and then actual-Dream in the dream itself. I'll get it all ironed out one day. Hopefully.

[seastarblue]

WIP Bingo Tag!

Phew big post today bc I kept procrastinating 😔

OKAY so the rules are to check each box that has a theme/trope that’s in your WIP! Then you make a bingo board with your own WIP’s themes!

———

I’ll do all three of mine, but you can pick one, no pressure!

here are @rhikasa and @fifis-corner ‘s boards, which I’m filling out for Interwoven:

idk if what I have planned counts as cosmic horror, and if enemies-to-friends-to-enemies-to-friends again-to-lovers counts…?

and as for suicide, it used to be a part of the story but I changed it, so I may re add it I’m not sure.

anyways.

@mundanemoongirl and @sableglass ‘s boards, which in filling out for A Golem’s Guide to Regaining Humanity:

hrm. Not a single bingo :( ah well I got close with both tho hehe.

and @cc-writes-stuff and @illarian-rambling ‘a boards, which I’m filling out for The Guiding Star!

half of this one was just me going: “hrm. yeah. hrm. yeahhhh.” rinse and repeat.

*Rivalry (not gay): I think you meant it in the rivals to lovers way? but who I though of were two characters that had a rivalry, both of them are gay, and they don’t fall in love. so? yeah.

*Secret Backstory: so secret I don’t even know them yet 💔😔

*Space Exploration! : basically space? kinda. some characters need oxygen masks to breathe. that spacey enough?

*Undead Protag(s): well the skelly crew is undead.

*Blue-Orange Morality: I looked this one up, and I’m not too sure atp.

Rival science lesbians: they’re lesbians. they’re rivals. and I suppose magic is a sort of science?

———

phew. Like I said, long post. BUT IT IS LONGER STILL; I need to make boards for you guys to do!

so I’ll make three, bc three wips, and you guys can pick. PLZ NOTE you don’t have to do all of them, nor do you have to make more than one board, I’m only doing it bc I Procrastinated 💔 and I feel bad so. Yeah. Take your pick!

✨tag game list!

@sableglass @dioles-writes @ash-thedrawer @allaboutmagic @paeliae-occasionally

@astor-and-the-endless-ink @vsnotresponding @nightlylaments

@thebookishkiwi @verdant-mainframe @threedaysgross @fifis-corner @bamber344 @ancientmyth

(Lemme know if you’d like on/off! And no pressure ofc)

The board for Interwoven:

The board for AGGTRH:

and the one for TGS:

And as always: open tag!

[askglisten]

[A clicking noise is heard.]

[Intro start.]

🩷 Your favorite toon has arrived! 🪞

"Hello darlings! I'm sure you've missed me; besides, is it really a perfect day without me?"

"For those of you who are unlucky enough to have not met me, your days have just become a whole lot brighter! I am the fantabulous"

"★ Glisten Mirror! ★"

"You can call me by whatever pronouns you'd like—I'm not particularly picky—but I do have a preference for He/Him."

"I've created this blog with the purpose of answering your questions; whether that be on Gardenview, the other toons, and/or me. As a reminder, I do reserve the right to block as I please if you cross my boundaries."

[A distant call for Glisten resounds through the hall.]

"Ah! It seems that, unfortunately, my sparkle is needed elsewhere. Until we meet again, loves!"

[Another clicking noise resounds.]

[Intro ends.]

[This post continues into an out of character portion below the cut, outlining boundaries in and out of character, the different tags that will be used on posts + their meanings, trigger warnings for the blog, and some extra tidbits.]

A Dandy's World Ask Blog

[The following section is, again, all out of character.]

★ This blog is run by @torotor0. Please do keep things related to this account on this account though!

★ This blog is run by a MINOR. Suggestive asks are okay, but NSFW is prohibited.

★ This blog actively encourages engagement! Asks, likes, and reposts are always appreciated.

★ This blog may feature ships! If you are uncomfortable with that, please just scroll.

★ Glisten's name and any pronouns referring to him will be in pink.

★ Twisted Glisten's name and any pronouns referring to him will be in red.

★ All speech will be documented "like this." (Example: "Hi.")

★ All actions will be documented [like this] or [like this.]

(Example: [He waved at the reader.])

(Example: [His mirror cracked.])

★ #glisten answers

In character Glisten answers to your questions. These can (and probably will) include RP!

★ #glisten rambles

In character Glisten posts that do NOT answer your questions. This will include continuations of answers.

★ #t-glisten answers

In character Twisted Glisten answers to your questions. These can (and probably will) include RP!

★ #t-glisten rambles

In character Twisted Glisten posts that do NOT answer your questions. This will include continuations of answers.

★ #silas answers

OUT OF CHARACTER responses to questions. This hashtag will not be used often.

This blog is constructed with the following headcanons:

★ Glisten is Agender and masculine presenting.

★ Glisten's sexuality is Gay—his romantic orientation as well.

★ Glisten loves fashion and makeup! It gives him a place to express himself without too much fear of judgement.

★ Glisten has Autophobia (Fear of abandonment & being alone). It becomes more prominent in his twisted form, but it's still there nonetheless. His phobia presents moreso not when he is literally alone (though he does feel slightly anxious when he is), but as a fear that he will end up alone and isolated.

★ Glisten has HPD (Histrionic Personality Disorder).

★ Glisten struggles with his mental health (See trigger list for more info).

⚠️ Trigger Warnings ⚠️

This blog may have posts which contain the following themes:

Intrusive Thoughts

Body Dysmorphia

Autophobia (Fear of abandonment & being alone)

Eating Disorders

Anxiety and depression

Anxiety Attacks and/or Panic Attacks

[This list will be added onto as needed]

All posts that contain triggering content will have a tag that reads as follows:

"#tw (trigger)" (ex. "#tw ed", "#tw autophobia", "#tw panic attack", etc.)

as well as a general "#tw" tag.

Again, please shoot an ask this way, and it'll be answered as soon as possible! If there is a queue, asks will be answered from oldest to newest. Other Dandy's World RP accounts are free to interact, just reblog the post and I'll respond in a jiffy!

Divider Credits In Alt!

[littleholmes]

“I know you can use Reversed Cursed Technique.”

And now I’m going back to Sukuna v. Gojo, the airport directions, and even as far back as Toji v. Gojo (parts 1 & 2), and the idea of sorcerer healing and reincarnation.

Kenjaku aimed for Hazenoki’s head knowing he can use reverse cursed technique so he couldn’t heal himself and survive, and we’re once again met with what I call the snake/zombie rule which is you have to get sorcerers who can use reverse cursed technique at the head, or you can’t be sure they’ll stay dead.

In addition to RCT, Kenjaku mentions reincarnation as well, which I love! The idea that sorcerers can and have been reincarnated is something that fascinates me and I could go on about it but I have a mutual who does that enough for me in her various jjk analyses. If we look at this dude as a substitute for Gojo, and then think about the idea of reincarnation. Ah!

I’m still not 100% sure Gojo will return (at this point I feel like it’s a 5-10% possibility? I’ll be pleasantly surprised if I’m wrong)…however, in the event that he does return? The fact Gojo’s head was intact helps. That said he was super burnt out from overusing that technique, same with Sukuna, but his head ultimately fine. Sukuna left it alone whether purposefully or accidentally. There’s also the Toji fight where Satoru was able to survive Toji’s attack because he was hurt everywhere but his head was okay enough that he could heal himself. But I digress.

These panels hinting again at having to damage the head of someone with RCT, and then the airport directions that were passed from sorcerer to sorcerer regarding north and south, imply the concept of sorcerer reincarnation (and potentially Gojo’s return, if we want to go there), which doesn’t surprise me given the undercurrent of Buddhist ideologies that runs throughout this series. Since death in this lens is a continuum until enlightenment, if a sorcerer were to return, they potentially could via a combination of rebirth and reverse cursed technique depending on which direction they chose.

idk I’m rambling and I’m gonna tag in @theanimepsychologist because my friend’s got the historical and ideological side of things on lock and can likely add more here, but having reincarnation and reverse cursed technique discussed in the same chapter is so fascinating to me and I love what is implied.