#HAPPILY EVER AFTER COLLECTIVE

[krysmcscience]

Don't mind me, just slacking on a big Billford comic by making other far more ridiculous Billford comics and also some AU art (please excuse my slapdash human!Bill thank you please, also before anyone asks the art style is messy and all over the place because idgaf LOL)

This started out as an excuse to design a Bill Cipher-inspired "wedding" dress, but then spiraled wildly out of control. Various rambles and a bunch more human!Bill arts under the cut, including another silly little comic at the end! (Feel free to skip the rambles, I won't be offended. I know I'm bad at shutting up. XD)

I may or may not write some comedy stuff for this AU, which I'm calling 'For Better Or Worse (But Mostly Worse)'. While Ford DOES remember getting sloshed enough for one thing to lead to making out with another after karaoke, neither he nor Bill remember this wedding, At All. The Love God did nothing to dissuade them from going hog wild on their marriage spending, either, so it got...uh. Exorbitantly Expensive. As in, the grand total could probably buy the entire fucking MOON sort of expensive. (It's fine, don't worry, Bill's good enough at crime to be able to afford it.) Also, because the logic of this AU is mostly dictated by Rule of Funny, the Love God's powers are close to unlimited when it comes to matters of romance, but ONLY when it comes to matters of romance. (Like weddings!)

Want an empty human vessel to smash the soul of a triangle into for date nights or when it's convenient, or perhaps even when it's NOT convenient? Easy peasy! Want the marriage to be recognized in every corner of the multiverse from now until the end of time, thus making any potential future divorce nigh-on impossible? Can do! Want to buy an entire beach for the ceremony and honeymoon and in general, and totally not at all because it would be Super Hilarious to prevent any specific movies from being made on that very same beach in the future? Fine, whatever, it's not his finances he's ruining!

Does the Love God also provide special rings that just so happen to turn incorporeal as long as the "happy couple" doesn't remember that they barged into his dreams to bully him into presiding over their marriage? ...No comment!

He spends the next thirty years trying and failing to get in touch with either of them for payment. This is why you should always demand half the money up front, my guy!

Also it's absolutely a traditional Jewish wedding, because I like the idea of Bill demanding all the keepsakes from the marriage that he paid for, and being completely confused when one of the things he's handed is a fancy container full of broken glass. He gets it later, but in the moment, he thinks the Love God is just fucking with him some more.

Ramble over! Here's the full dress that caused the comic to happen, along with what Ford wound up wearing at the wedding (and begrudgingly agreeing to put on again later for Reasons), aaaaand also a close-up of Bill's ring:

I may have forgotten to draw Bill's hair floofier when drawing the back of the dress, lmao

Since double ring ceremonies have been leaking over into Jewish wedding customs for a while now, Ford also has a ring, but his is the much more traditional plain gold band. There's definitely a message engraved on the inside - embarrassing, cringe, or incriminating somehow - but I haven't decided what it is yet, so use your imagination for now. XD Bill, on the other hand, saw the phrase 'traditional plain gold band' and said "No Thank You" before proceeding to embellish his ring to his liking. And because he's a secret sap who adores Ford's extra fingers, the triangle points add up to twelve, as do the engraved stars. Yes, they're stars, not dots, I just got lazy. There's also six lashes on the eye gem, and probably an eye engraving on the inside with another six lashes. (Bill's got it BAD, okay? We all know this.)

Here are the initial scribbles of Bill's custom vessel in more casual attire, please ignore the wonky anatomy and the fact that I flat out refuse to ever draw him with a proper top hat:

He does actually need a cane in this vessel; since Bill tends to possess men and especially Ford more often than not, he's used to having a higher center of gravity when in a human body, so his ability to balance is pretty garbage. (He may or may not topple over with concerning regularity.) As for his empty eye socket, his bangs don't do much to hide it since he's so high-energy (dude is constantly on the move), and he also refuses to wear a patch over it, because 1.) why bother, and 2.) it's more fun to freak people out.

To better align with Ford's attraction towards the strange, the vessel was designed with super minor shapeshifting ability - Bill can look like a perfectly normal human, but he can also make the teeth and fingers sharper whenever he likes (which is mostly just when he's angry or being more of a menace than usual), as well as slit down the pupils or outright ditch the irises altogether. He can also have whatever he wants in the downstairs department, just because I'm an indecisive bitch on that front, lmao. Maybe he can have boobs if he wants them, too, but I ain't drawin' tits on no triangle, nuh-uh, no sir. His powers are otherwise limited down to what humans can do, because for some reason, the Love God doesn't trust Bill to not snap into Immediate Apocalypse Mode if he's given a physical form that's actually all his and no one else's.

Due to the body being all his and no one else's, it's also not really a standard possession so much as it is just...Bill being temporarily human. He's a lot more aware of and in tune with his human body's senses than he ever was with his "puppets", which makes things like pain a lot more intense. (He is mostly fine with this, because he's a fukken masochist.)

A bit more fashion stuff, including beach and party attire~

The beach outfit was mostly me trying and failing to nail down his body shape, which is still not bottom-heavy enough. I then decided to slap a bikini on it, before making it supremely unsexy with a pair of fugly shorts, because Bill's fashion choices are not allowed to be conventionally attractive. Meanwhile, the party outfit was mostly me looking at the casual attire I designed, asking 'how would Bill make this Worse', and then drawing the result. The mismatched thigh-highs are killing me inside! :D

No, his vessel can't actually summon fire, I just drew it for funzies before I decided on said vessel's limitations. Yes, the gold brick tattoos are absolutely a reference to the fic 'Knowing Me, Knowing You' - I simply could not resist.

I also HAD to draw Bill in one of his canonical(?) shirts, just made tank-top'd:

He is absolutely about to over-correct and fall backwards after this. USE YOUR CANE, GOOFBALL!!! (I meant to draw Bill closer to this degree of bottom-heavy in the other images, but. Alas. I am bad at anatomy, LOL)

And, last but not least before More Comic Time, I attempted to draw him closer to Gravity Falls style:

Jury's out on whether or not I succeeded, but - hey. I tried. Now have some Handyman Bill AU, but with my goofy human design, instead:

Hey, it's a 'mystery snack', and the guy wanted A BITE to eat - the joke was right there, guys!!! (Based on this post, because it just screamed BILL CIPHER to me.)

whoops i forgor bills ring and cracks ahaha too late now

I WILL SHUT UP AND STOP RAMBLING NOW K THX BYYYYYE

[ambrellaexists]

Pristine cut is here which means I have to draw them again :]]

[satorugojoswiife]

ok but look at our cute wedding

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

dead boy detectives more like dead GAY detectives amirite

[tenwhiteandalusians]

is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5

[meteorstricken]

Sagespire revealing about the Dusk/Syntehic crystals being created/made from Beastmen and animals definitely does bring to mind ow Aether is life itself. Of course the Dusk Crystals were made from lives of other living beings. Does make me wonder if the Fallen had also experimented and made crystals from other humans as well ? Especially given the fact humanity where first Akashic.

This has occurred to me...and the potential implications are horrifying.

The Fallen are so heavily implied as warmongering and life-desecrating that you just know some kind of atrocity with experimenting on their own has to be in there somewhere. The list of potential victims is rather broad. POW's? The poor and disabled, perhaps? Or maybe being used to grow crystal was a particularly cruel form of the death penalty.

What strikes me as particularly telling is that, at least as of yet, we don't see much tangible evidence of how everyday people lived or their culture. All we see are relics of a vast and grotesque military industrial complex, and when a society values and protects THAT above all else, it often means that anyone who's not part of its power structure are at risk to be treated as cannon fodder. Expendable.

Humanity, reaching for godhood at its upper eschelons while also slowly self-destructing by cutting their own feet out from under them. Yeah... that checks out. 🙃

It implicitly adds another note to why Ultima struck them down, aside from their pursuit of godhood: If humanity had been allowed to self-annihilate and thoroughly sap the land of aether, they would not be able to serve the purpose for which they were created. In fact, they would have thoroughly sabotaged it.

(This kind of gets into the root cause of Ultima's contempt for mankind, but... that's an essay's worth of character analysis I don't have the time for at the moment. Suffice it to say that I think a certain popular YouTube essay on the character is remarkably facile and misses the mark by miles. My take on Ultima sees him as all at once a LOT more sinister and a great deal more sympathetic, but "has no empathy" just... isn't it.)

[dedeuteros]

OH ALSO I MET THE COOLEST STAR TREK FAN TODAY AT THE BATTLE. shout out to tha trekkies

[come-mist-eternal]

Talking with all of my past teammates on the comms saying how they will meet up after destroying the reapers knowing I don’t have enough war assets for the Shepard lives destroy ending

[jolenes-book-journey]

For the Love of Winter Volume Two - FCRW Romance Anthology

For the Love of Winter Volume Two - FCRW Romance Anthology

Warm your heart with nine enchanting tales of love. Title: For the Love of Winter – Volume Two Authors: Leah Miles, Vickey Wollan, C.L. Hart, Sara J. Walker, Erika Kilmer Freidly, Marie Morton, Sally Ann Murphy, Elizabeth Edgar, Vanessa Victoria Kilmer Genre: A Collection of Holiday Romances From historical winter celebrations to modern sizzling New Year’s Eve encounters, this anthology spans…

[seumyo]

KENJI SATO ✰ 10:43

“Working overtime really doesn’t suit you, Sato.” The teasing sentence made Kenji grunt in disapproval, slumping against his couch.

“Wow, I didn’t notice. Thank you for that valuable input, [Name],” he says, rolling his eyes at you. 

He can’t help the sarcastic reply. Kenji’s schedule was all over the place. His life has been all over the place ever since his return to his home country, Japan. And now he not only has to take care of himself—which, in his defense, was fairly simple when he just had to worry about himself—he has to worry about an infant Kaiju!

What a wonderful (not) icing on the cake.

“Ken is really appreciative that you made time to fulfill his request, or, shall I say, cry for help, [Name].” Mina’s familiar voice flurried from a distance, closing in to your right in a breeze. 

“Hey! It was not a cry for help—it’s more like a... Asking a friend for a favor,” Kenji says, trying to ease his brain with what’s coming out of his mouth (like it was on autopilot, scrambling to defend himself and the pride he had left).

“Uh huh. And the favor is? I don’t really think there’s anything I could do to her containment unit or any repairs that’re needed in this place.”

“I just need someone to watch over her.”

(“I just need someone to talk to” is a much fitting phrase.)

“Doesn’t Mina already do that?”

“There’s only so much a supercomputer like me can do to entertain a living being, [Name].”

On cue, Emi croons at the video of you singing on stage. A part time career of yours, because when you’re not developing new tech that boosts the economy, you might as well indulge in your hobbies. 

Kenji wouldn’t admit it, but he has a vinyl or two—or even a whole collection of them—that he considers as priceless as his one-of-a-kind sports car displayed in the basement.

“Would you look at that? She likes your singing.” 

He watches as you take a step closer to Emi, observing how she delightedly squealed at the soft melody being played on the holograms. This 20-foot-tall baby Kaiju reminded you of the time you took care of children at the daycare center.

“I just...” he sighs. You didn’t even notice that Kenji was already beside you, offering you a canned drink. 

“How do you do it? Juggle everything?” He murmurs. “You’re the busiest person I know. Working on your thesis, performing at various concerts, taking on charity work, and whatnot. Hell, if you could run for president, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you in the elections, too.”

A quiet laugh was returned. “It’s not easy, that’s for sure. But within time, you’ll learn just what you need and what you can handle.”

“Mm. Don’t you ever just want to run away from all the responsibilities people place on your shoulders? I can barely take care of this young lady,” he chuckles, though it doesn’t hold even the slightest ounce of humor to it.

“I wish, but then I’ll remember the kids who're so happy to see me whenever I drop by,” you say. “They may be a handful at times, but you’ll be surprised to know just how smart and caring they are. How they take in their surroundings and attempt to figure out who they are. We’re all what they have. The least we could do is give them our time and love all the same.”

Kenji lets your words sink in. Simple and touching. The kind that gets the gears in his head to start twisting.

“You really are a charm with your words; did you know that?”  

“Thanks; I try my best.”

The night continues with Kenji and Emi playing baseball on a simulated field with you by the shed, cheering on from a safe distance. Kenji doesn’t remember the last time he’s been this genuinely happy after his return to Japan. It’s a refreshing feeling that he wants to get used to again. To see the baby Kaiju successfully hit the ball with a swift swing after watching after him is a sight that tugs at one’s heartstrings.

Just like a proud father.

“Come on, girl! We gotta run the bases!”

And as the two celebrate their moment of triumph, the baby Kaiju stomps toward you and giggles happily as she hoists you in the air without much warning. You took it all in you not to shriek and absolutely lose all composure, but when you’re up in the air and are being held to a bear hug like some sort of teddy bear by a Kaiju that could probably crush your bones if not careful, it’s hard to not just scream for your life.

“Oh, ok—ok. Baby, put me down gently, please,” you chuckle nervously. 

“It appears that the little one sees you as her other mother,” Mina adds.

Kenji laughs at the sight, pulling out his phone to take a picture. This is definitely a memory he’d want to remember.

“This is not funny, Kenji. Tell her to put me down.”

“Aw, is Baby not listening to her Mommy?”

“Again, not funny. This is like an out-of-the-blue co-parenting a child with you. With you being my annoying ex-husband.”

“Specific, eh?”

“Shut!”

When you’re just about to leave for the night, Kenji suggests that you sleep over. There’s a lot of spare bedrooms in their manor, he reasons. He also doesn’t understand what came over him to offer, but he doesn’t take it back.

But it could be because he’s missed you. And he’s somewhat afraid that this may be the last time you see each other in a while due to your clashing schedules.

“You’re such a girl dad, Kenji,” you tease.

“Haha, good one,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. He took a couple of blankets from the closet and placed them on the bed.

“Just saying.”

“Whatever you say, Mommy.”

“Oh hush, Daddy.”

That ringed out a laugh from him. “Bleh, that sounds so embarrassing coming from you.”

You shrugged. “Hm? Don’t you think you’re embarrassing too?”

“I’m not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. I will not be going back and forth like this with you anymore, Kenji Sato. Good night!”

Kenji can’t hide the smile that appears on his face. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Definitely missed you.

SEUMYO © 2024. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[linoveins]

silky shorts and stained shirts

when best friend!minho sees fem!reader in revealing clothes for the first time…

genre: smut n fluff

warnings: masturbation, perversion, dom/sub fantasies. minors, do not interact!!

w.c.: 2.1k

minho often visits your place unannounced. at some point you just gave him a key and he gladly takes advantage of it. just like today.

minho just got back from dance practice and decided to raid your apartment for some food since he forgot to do groceries and he's feeling too lazy to do them now. 

“Y/N!!!” he announces his arrival, strolling through the door like it’s his place like always.

the apartment is too silent. he figures you’re not home yet. you had a lecture around this time so he wasn’t really expecting you to be here.

he opens your pantry in attempts of finding something quick to eat but clicks his tongue at the lack of food that greets him. seems like you didn’t do your groceries too. he heads to the fridge, hoping for a miracle, and his eyes practically sparkle at seeing a cup of his favorite pudding.

he opens it up, a joyous look resting on his face like a child finding a hidden stack of candy. he makes himself comfortable on your couch, happily chewing on the sweet treat while turning on the television.

he laughs to himself. you’d definitely be annoyed at him for eating your dessert.

deciding to be even more annoying, he gets his phone and takes a video of himself happily munching on the pudding he stole.

“nomnomnomnom.” he chews in front of the camera tauntingly and sends you the video with a mischievous grin on his face.

“ding!” what the hell? the unexpected notification sound coming from your room makes him jump. he gets off the couch and goes to your room to inspect. he already guesses you're probably in there, choosing sleep over attending a minor class. it has happened too many times. you'll always regret it afterwards. he'll definitely scold you for skipping your lecture.

minho opens the door, ready to wake you up, and his heart just drops to his belly.

there you are, in deep sleep, in the thinnest shorts he’s ever seen you in. he hasn't even seen you in any piece of clothing that stops above halfway of your thigh. the loose strap of your camisole had fallen off your shoulder. your legs are tangled with the blanket, one of it hitched over the material, and his knees almost buckle at the bit of cleavage your position subjected you to.

you’re a restless sleeper. he has a whole album in his phone of you in weird positions while asleep. he playfully threatens you that he’ll post some on your birthday when you annoy him with your antics but he never does, wanting to keep the funny and adorable sight to himself.

although what he’s seeing right now is not funny at all. his cock twitches in his pants almost immediately. he blinks three or four times in shock before he finally closes your door, cursing at himself and running to the bathroom.

since when did you look like that?

had your thighs always looked that fucking soft? he groans at the apparent feeling of his sweatpants getting tighter. he has to collect himself.

but he wants to grab your thighs... spread you for him maybe. you’d look so pretty. would you shiver if he touches you higher? and your tits…

“shit.”

he now has an erection in your bathroom, right after staring at your exposed body for much longer than he should have (not long enough, he thinks and buries deep), and right after eating the last cup of pudding you had.

what a horrible friend he is.

he sighs and palms himself. yeah, he’s horrible. he’ll buy you two extra cups of pudding later but he has to take care of his problem for now before he loses his mind. 

he bites his lip, trying to keep quiet as he pushes his pants down. he palms his twitching cock and hisses.

minho gathers all the shame left in him and turns on your faucet to muffle the sounds he knows he’s gonna make eventually. upping your water bill while he jacks off to the thought of your sleeping form...

what a damn horrible friend.

he gently gathers the pre-cum from his tip and spreads it over his cock. he groans. don’t think about her, don’t think about her, don’t think about her… he repeats it in his head as if his cock will listen.

shit, your bathroom smells like you, of course. his cock jumps at the memory of your smell, now invading his senses, and he gives up on trying to be decent and just closes his eyes, thinking of you sprawled out so vulnerable and pretty. 

he’s squeezes the base and he strokes. his thoughts go back to your thighs. your perfect fucking thighs… shit, if he could only push them together and fuck his cock in between them. would you squirm? he bets you will. you can’t even take a massage without squirming. you'll squirm on it, alright.

he keeps the pace rather slow, trying to make the fantasy last as long as possible. he decides he can feel guilty about it all he wants after. 

he's sure you’d go shy on him. you’d whine and complain about it being too big. he squeezes at the base. he’d coo at you. maybe he’ll grind it on your pussy first. he bets you’ll really squirm at that. but he’ll keep you in place. he’ll hold your thighs down. fuck. your soft fucking thighs. he grips himself harder. 

he won’t take your cute little shorts off. he’ll push the fabric aside and rub his heavy cock on you. you’d be so fucking wet, he thinks. so wet for him. he strokes a bit faster. he hopes you’d be so fucking sensitive too. he’d tap it on your clit. no- he groans. he’ll slap it on you. you'd whine so prettily, won't you? moan his name with your gentle voice? you'd get wetter. he'll make sure of it. he'd spread you and fucking hump his cock on your cunt for all he's worth. you would be so fucking wet. shit. 

you’d cry and tell him you're too sensitive. he'd hum in your ear, “poor baby”, in the sweetest fucking tone you’ve heard. but he won’t stop. you don't want him to. he’ll push his cock on it harder. you would grip onto his thighs, whimpering like a good girl.

minho's hand cramps from his harsh strokes. he switches to his other hand and tugs on it at a faster pace. you'd drool and bite on your lips, he can almost taste it. he decides he'll pull down the other strap of your top until your tits fall out. he keeps up the pace. he’s almost there. he'll fondle them. he knows they’re soft too. they'll be so soft and perfect in his rough palms. he’d pinch and squeeze and hold and fucking grope while his dick runs over and over your clit. you’d keep whining about how it’s too much. too sensitive. too intense. but you’ll love it, won't you? you'll beg him for more. he’ll laugh at you all sweet and condescending. “can’t even take it and i’m just rubbing on you? can this pretty pussy even handle me inside?” you'll pout at him for that and he'll follow eventually.

he’d keep playing with your tits. he'd use his mouth eventually. licking and sucking on it. you’ll try to muffle your sounds but you wouldn’t be able to. no, not when his cock would still be all over your messy cunt. he pants, biting on his lip. he’s almost fucking there. he’d take things further. maybe bite on your nipple while twisting and tugging the other one. then he'll do it. oh, you'll scream so good when he rams himself inside you without warning. you'll be latching onto him, clenching and whimpering and cumming fucking hard on his cock.

minho cums right after his image of you. his vision blurs. it’s dizzying. hot liquid squirts all over his shirt, coating his hand. goodness, there’s a lot of fucking cum. he leans back on the door with a sigh, cock out and softening, guilt still far away after having one of the hardest orgasms he’s ever had.

a moment passes and he washes his hands. he washes his face too. his red ears and neck was an embarrassing sight. he gathers himself, and there it is. the guilt.

he realizes he made a mess of his shirt. he needs to get his shit together. he won’t risk the possibility of you seeing him in his cum-stained shirt. minho comes out of the bathroom, shirt in his hand. he’ll just quickly grab one of his hoodies in your closet. 

he enters your room, glaring hard at the closet like it's a life and death situation. he tiptoes across your room, not risking to look at you again.

he reaches the cabinet handle. quickly and quietly, he takes a hoodie. success.

“minho?” your gentle voice startles him out of his internal battles at the moment. “why are you naked?”

he puts on the hoodie, still avoiding looking at you while he closes the cabinet.

“spilled something on it.”

you blink. then you stretch while letting out a moan. he takes a deep breath.

you get up from the bed and go outside. he rolls his dirty shirt in his hand and follows you to the kitchen.

fuck. there you are again. you’re bending over, checking the damn fridge and he clenches his jaw so hard it feels like it's gonna break.

“did you eat my pudding?” you huff at him. he exhales.

“yeah. s-sorry. i’ll buy you two after”, he says, guilt-ridden, and you just stare at him for 5 seconds. shit, do you know about the other thing? it's not likely..

you laugh. “calm down. why do you look all pouty?” you think it’s odd. minho would usually poke fun at you for him eating your food. minho just blinks at you. you shrug and you just look for at least a snack.

“i forgot to do groceries… i won’t have shit to eat tonight”, you say, opening your pantry and finding nothing. you open your fridge again, then you open your pantry again as if food will mysteriously appear the second time you do it. 

he’d make fun of you for it if he wasn’t so distracted by your nipples poking through your camisole, the light from the kitchen making it visible and inviting. nope. you deserve the courtesy of him being normal.

he grips his dirty shirt that he’s still somehow holding onto. you don’t even seem to care about your little attire. you're so comfortable in his presence and here he is he feels warmth pool in his belly again. he blinks and stares at your face instead.

“y-yeah. i have to do groceries too. how about you go with me later? let’s eat at that new place near uni first”, minho says, trying to speak as non-chalant as possible.

“mhm okay. i’m hungry as hell though so let’s go now. i’ll just get changed”, you say as you walk back to your room.

you pass by him and suddenly grab his dirty shirt from him and he panics. he grabs it back a bit aggresively.

“hey! what the-”, you start but he interrupts you.

“sorry. it’s just really dirty”, he quickly says, gripping the shirt tightly so you won’t try doing anything again.

“yeah that’s why i’ll put it in the laundry bin. gimme.” you tug at the shirt he's holding while looking at him confused.

“i-i can wash it. besides, you’ll steal it from me and i like this shirt very much.” he doesn’t. and even if he did. he liked that you took his things. but he puts on a teasing smile anyway so you’ll buy his excuses. you just roll your eyes at him with a smile and shut your door to get changed.

minho sighs in relief. he goes outside your apartment to bury the evidence of his... perversions. he tosses the stained shirt into the bin outside, burying it under the other plastic bags. 

even after destroying evidence, it doesn't make him less guilty of the deed. he'll try not to think about it. it'll be easy. he'll get over it.

he comes back inside your apartment, and there you are again, all pretty in your ridiculous baggy pants and one of his hoodies you stole, all cute with a pout on your face as you frown at your phone when you hear the little “nomnomnomnom” sound come from it.

+-+-+-+

a/n: this is my first fic (drabble?) ever. pls bare with me. i made this account just to read but i got distracted seeing lino's ig story. he's sooooo fucking cute i had to write something. also idrk how to do warnings let me know if there should be something else there (^人^)

[temporarytemporal]

cling to me

I know I said I was going to distance myself from this piece of media because of all of its terrible connections, but these two characters seem to have taken root in a permanent place in my heart, and I can't let them go.

Anyway, here's some character design notes below the cut for the one person out there who's obsessed with these characters as much as me.

Early DSMP: the era of childhood innocence

Bandanas: They sport each other’s bandana’s (they’re hidden in the design for every era). I love character designs with complementary colors (and I love how red and green are also cranboo’s colors)

Disks: Early on, cat and mellohi represent the peaceful moments ctommy shared with his favorite people, but they went on to be a symbol of victory and independence from the people who have hurt him.

Flowers: Ctubbo collects flowers and tries to memorize the meanings and symbolism tied to each type of flower. He also collects them for his bees.

L’manberg: the era where children became soldiers

Horns: Ctubbo’s horns start to grow in here.

Pogtopia: the era of an exile and a secretary of state / spy

You can tell I joined the fandom at the end of this era because I don’t have many notes here or for the l’manberg era.

Exile: the era of an exile once again and and a president too young

Hair: Ctommy’s hair starts to grow longer as he neglects taking care of himself.

Clothes: Ctommy’s clothes are tattered; one shoe is destroyed and he took to wearing cw-lbur’s (f-ck ccw-lbur btw!!) trench coat.

Bandages: Ctubbo’s wrapped in bandages from his recently earned firework burns. He’s gone blind in his right eye, and he’s missing the ring and pinkie finger on his right hand.

Compasses: They share their matching ‘your tommy’ and ‘your tubbo’ compasses

Hog Hunt: the era where one sought to kill the blood god while the other sought refuge there

Stolen goods: Ctommy’s has his antarctic empire outfit plus all the goods he stole from ctechno like the turtle helmet, golden apples, and the axe of peace.

Bedrock: Ctommy wears his counterpart piece matching techno’s from his ear.

Prosthetic: Ctommy’s right foot had to be amputated after he loses it to frostbite in the trek to cemeraldduo’s cabin. Ctechno gives him a simple prosthetic.

Disc Finale: the era of mended relationships and a final stand

Headband: Ctommy begins to wear a devil headband to fit in more, as he’s one of the few humans on the server. The devil horns were chosen to resemble ceryn’s real ones.

Patchwork: Ctommy learns to sew, and he fixes his tattered clothes from exile.

Post Revival:

Devil horns: Ctommy’s devil horns (plus a tail) become real after revival, and he gets a white streak in his hair.

Prime cross: The bad things that have happened to them both that they survived strengthen ctommy’s faith in prime, whereas they weaken ctubbo’s faith.

Sweater: Ctommy makes himself a sweater from friend’s wool.

Mechanical inventions: Ctubbo pursues his passion for engineering more as he makes mechanical bee drones and studies nuclear physics. He also makes himself prosthetic fingers, and he upgrades ctommy’s prosthetic foot.

Marriage ring: Ctubbo marries cranboo platonically and wears the ring on his horn. He also founds snowchester so he can have a place to protect his loved ones and raise his son. He grows out his hair to avoid eye contact for cranboo and to cover his scars.

Body type: Ctubbo gets chubbier and gains some muscle as he gets a bit happier in life.

Post DSMP:

The prison break and everything after it never happened. These are my OCs, and I make the rules because every actor/writer who played a part in their creation either abandoned them or turned out to be a terrible person. Cbenchtrio live happily ever after and begin their journey of healing while cdream rots in prison forever.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I am a little creature largely made up of anxieties. There have been times in my life when it was worse. It’s currently significantly better. This story takes place at a time when it was pretty bad.

Food was a prison for me. I moved out early with very little idea of how to feed or care for myself. Every meal was a question mark. For three years I had Brendan doing most of the cooking but when things ended between us I moved in with some other friends. I suddenly had no way to feed myself again.

I was working at the sex shop and living with all my coworkers; a premise that would make sitcom writers weep. In that house, at the age of 24, I learned how to fry an egg. It was the only thing I knew how to do but by god, I mastered egg frying. I was so proud. I could now have one stress free meal a day of an egg on toast.

The problem was my roommates. Living with three other people is already tough but messes pile up alarmingly fast, especially in the kitchen. No one sees the whole mess as their responsibility but the one person who’s responsibility it absolutely wasn’t was mine, as I only ever cooked eggs. Glaciers moved quicker than the dishes got done, mountains of greasy unwashed dish ware were fixtures across the counters.

My friends occasionally cooked for me and each time I happily cleaned all the resulting dishes. This seemed fair.

But on my own I only used three implements for my egg. When I finished with my spatula, pan, and plate, I carefully washed them and set them to dry. Every time I came back to the kitchen there was nothing clean.

Crusted on ketchup, dried food, and unsavory residues plagued everything I needed to touch. So I ended up doing all the dishes twice, once to use my three implements and again once I was done.

I started to realize I’d come home, see the filthy pile of dishes, then go to bed without eating because I didn’t have the energy to wash it all. So I finally addressed my roommates about it. Please, I beseeched them, can these three things always be clean. I cannot function like this, and eating is already hard for me.

The answer returned: no. My request was deemed unreasonable and a counteroffer was made to turn off the small space heater I ran in my room in exchange for them magnanimously cleaning up after themselves. I declined, as my bones ached with cold everywhere except my room since no one else wanted the heat on. The impasse continued. I went to be hungry.

I noodled on it. I schemed. I plotted. And on my day off I went to a thrift shop and acquired a nice little pan and spatula. I squirreled them away into my closet. The plan was just to wash and dry it after meals and keep it in my room.

This is not how it went down. On day one of my pan coming home one of my roommates popped into my room to chat, glanced into my three quarters shut closet and immediately said, “What is that?”

I sighed and admitted my plan. All three roommates roundly condemned my plan as extremely passive aggressive. I tried once again to explain that I wasn’t eating, but my secret pan was now a source of contention, a precious resource held back from the collective.

Their discontent reached a fever pitch and I finally declared, “Fine! I will put my pan in the kitchen. On one condition. If I ever find this pan dirty, ever, I will scrape whatever is left on it into your bedding. I swear to god, if I ever come home to it being dirty there will be a reckoning.”

Terms were agreed.

The first month or two went okay. On the third month I awoke to eat breakfast and found my precious pan sullied. I grabbed it and marched upstairs. Betty was named as the culprit. I strode into Betty’s room and stood over her sleeping form like the vengeful ghost of dishes past.

“If you don’t get up and clean this right now I’m going to dump it on your bed.”

Betty groggily regarded me. “Seriously?”

“I have never been more serious.”

“It’s one time, can’t you just clean it yourself?”

“No. You promised.”

With much huffing and grousing Betty arose from bed and tromped downstairs, hastily cleaning my pan while I watched. “Happy?” She demanded.

I was. I made my egg, cheerfully cleaning the pan afterward, leaving it to dry.

[bisexualbaker]

Why do people keep recommending Dreamwidth as a Tumblr alternative, when Dreamwidth and Tumblr are so different?

To be flat-out honest, it's because Dreamwidth has so many things that Tumblr users say they want, even if it's also lacking a lot of features that Tumblr users have come to love:

Dreamwidth has incredibly lax content hosting rules. I'd say that it's slightly more restrictive than AO3, but only just slightly, and only because AO3's abuse team has been so overwhelmed and over-worked. Otherwise, the hosting policies are pretty similar. You want to go nuts, show nuts? You can do that on Dreamwidth.

In fact, Dreamwidth is so serious about "go nuts, show nuts", it gave up the ability to accept transactions through PayPal in 2009 to protect our ability to do that. (It's also one reason why Dreamwidth doesn't have an app: Dreamwidth will never be beholden to Apple's content rules this way.)

Dreamwidth cares about your privacy; it doesn't sell your data, and barely collects any to begin with. As far as I'm aware, it only collects what it needs to run the site. The owners have also spoken out on behalf of internet privacy many times, and are prepared to put their money where their mouth is.

No ads. Ever. Period. They mean it. Dreamwidth is entirely user funded.

Posts viewed in reverse chronological order; no algorithm, opt-in or otherwise. No algorithm at all. No "For You" or "Suggested" page. You still entirely create and curate your own experience.

The ability to make posts that only your "mutuals", or even only a specific subset of your "mutuals", can see. Want to make a post that's only open to Bonnie, Clyde, Butch, and Cassidy? You can do that! Want to make a post that's only open to Bonnie and Butch, but Clyde and Cassidy can't see shit? You can do that, too!

The owners have forsworn NFTs and the blockchain in general. Not as big a worry now as it was even a year ago, but still good to know!

We are explicitly the customers of Dreamwidth. Dreamwidth wants to make us happy, so any changes they make (and they do make changes) are made with us in mind, and after exploring as many possibilities as they can.

Dreamwidth is very transparent about their policies and changes. If you want to know why they're making a specific change, or keeping or getting rid of a feature, they will tell you. You don't have to find out ten months later that they're locked into a contract to keep it for a year (cough cough Tumblr Live cough cough).

So those are some things that Tumblr users would probably love about Dreamwidth.

Another reason Dreamwidth keeps being recommended is that a significant portion of the Age 30+ crowd spent a lot of earlier fandom years on a site known as LiveJournal. Dreamwidth may not be much like Tumblr, but it it started out as a code fork of LiveJournal, so it will be very familiar to anyone who spent any time there. Except better.

Finally, we're recommending Dreamwidth because some of the things that Tumblr users want are just... not going to happen on the web as it is now. Image hosting is the big one for this. Maybe in the future, the price of data will be much cheaper, and Dreamwidth will be able to host as much as we all want for a pittance that a fraction of the userbase will happily pay for everyone, but right now that's just not possible.

Everywhere you want to go that hosts a lot of images will either be running lots of ads, selling your data, or both.

Dreamwidth knows how much it costs to host your data, and has budgeted for that. They are hosting within their means, within our means.

Dreamwidth is the closest thing we may ever get to AO3 as a social media platform. One of the co-owners is from, and still in, fandom; she knows our values, because they are also her values. It may as well be the Blogsite Of Our Own.

[yuvany]

"MS.UGLY DUCKLING" ft SIM JAKE

SYNOPSIS : growing up "ugly" was not for the weak. Being absolutely ignored both in and outside of school was not for the weak. No one is ever ugly forever though. Changing schools and meeting new people, but most importantly meeting him might have been the best choice you've ever made in a very, very long time.

CONTENT WARNINGS : angst (with a happy ending) + bullying + insecurities + strangers to friends + friends to lovers + written in second perspective + self deprication + fluff + long + little rushed + partially proofread

ACTORS : ENHYPEN JAKE x FEMALE READER

WORD COUNT : ~ 4k

CHECK BOX !!

i. "WHY WON'T THEY EVER PLAY WITH ME," you asked your mother after returning home from a long and harsh first day of school. Your hair looked a mess, and dirt was scattered across your clothes, yet your voice sounded like childish innocence and pure wonder. Maybe it was too much for such a young child to realise that her newly made friends maybe weren't actually her friends?

(Read more under the cut)

"I'm sure they didn't mean to?" She replied, her voice sounding soft and vulnurable, feeling like she was responsible for the sorrows and grief that her child had been put through, since she was the one who had bought you into this world. Instead of confronting the problem, she told her child that the world wasn't as evil as it seemed, that thinking on the bright side, or the possibilities, were the correct way to live life.

Eight-year-old girl walked up the stairs with heavy weights glued beneath her feet after dinner was finished. You threw yourself onto your bed that was neatly made in the morning before you went to school happily, just to come home opposite of the way you left. The softness of the pillow and blanket laying on your bed was enough to comfort you as you buried your face deep into it and wrapping the blanket around you tightly. You wished for friends, and you wished to be happy, but most of all, you wanted to be like everybody else.

ii. ONE MORE DAY at school, the daily mistreatment never seeming to come to a halt. You walked through the corridors anxiously holding onto the straps of your backback tightly with your pair of eyes wandering all over the place in case of danger. This was certainly not nessecary for a child your age, but when nobody chooses to help, you've got to start taking care of yourself.

Maybe it was your nerves that made it feel as if everyone's eyes were on you, but their mouths would open to release a fit of laughter that they had held in until specifically you walked past them. You crossed your arms, feeling extra aware of yourself now, guessing that they were laughing and giggling at you, which you didn't appreciate, but you were also too insecure and scared to speak up against them.

You reached your locker, looking forward to being able to collect your throught, away from everyone else, the locker shielding you away from their piercing gazes and judgemental stares and whispers. As you look up from your shoes, you see piles of gum stuck onto your locker, the gum being pressed onto the metal aggressively by the people you wished you didn't see. It was them; the popular girls of the school, and few of many people who seemed to despise you. They saw you standing there, shooting you an all too familiar look before walking away with their hips swaying from side to side dramatically.

You approched your locker to finally see what they were doing up close, "UGLY!" it read. You felt embarrased imagining all the people who passed by and saw this. Did they laugh? Did they feel bad for you? What did they think? You wanted to run away and hide in a deep hole you'd dig up with all the stored up shame inside of you.

iii. "MOM, DO YOU THINK I'M PRETTY?" You asked your mother once more, years after the first, but soon to the recent encounter. "I think you're very pretty." She says, but your gut tells you another story. "Really?" You ask, awaiting her response that takes a long while before she hums lowly. That just confirms it, she wasn't being honest. "Thanks," you say, with no emotion in your tone. She looks away and eats her dinner quietly.

You quickly finish yours, and wash it in the faucet, the soap bubbling up and covering your fingers as you scrub and rub the plate, utensils and glass that you used. After finishing that up, you return to your room, locking it behind you. You hid under the covers for a while until it got too suffocating and warm, leaving you itchy and irriatted before sliding out and standing in front of the mirror. You inspected every inch and detail of your face, feeling not so content with some parts. You sighed at your reflection that looked back at you with tired, red eyes. At just fourteen years old, you began caring about how you looked, and how others precieved you, so you took matters into your own hands. That night, you stayed up all night searching for 'how to be prettier' and scrolled endlessly through social media.

The next day, you had decided to get a new hair cut to maybe fix the way you looked, you knew excatly what you wanted, and how to cut it. Before anyone else woke up, even before the first birds chirped their morning tune, you made your way to the bathroom and grabbed a pair of scissors in your grasp. You carefully cut strand for strand, the same way you remebered how the video showed. "It doesn't look too bad." You think to yourself, and then you hear footsteps outside the door. Your eyes quickly scanned the hair that layed on the tiled floor and faucet, wondering what to do with it.

Too late. The door slowly swung open and in came your mom. She was silent upon seeing the scene, the horror only showing in her eyes. "What happened here?" She asked like a sharp whisper. "I just cut my hair..." You reply equally quiet. You see her shake her head in disappointment, so you turn your head down, looking at all the hair that had been flying everywhere while you had fun cutting your hair, and suddenly you weren't as proud of your hair cut like you were before. "Go get the broom, y/n." You obeyed your mother's order and hurried out of the bathroom feeling tears of embarrassment reaching your eyes.

iv. YOU STARTED WEARING MAKE UP to cover up, but to everyone else, you told them that you wore make up becase you thought it looked pretty. Still, they'd give weird glances toward each others, which you knew was their way of judging you.

Each morning, you woke up early to sit in front of your mirror examining your appearance like you always did. Hoping and praying to somehow change over night, you hated how your features looked together. You opened the drawer of your vanity and picked up sponges and brushes, leaving them aside for later use while you chose the different essintials. You had prepared the whole summer break to look pretty. Every day, you followed a new tutorial, improving as you continued. You did all this to look presentable at school.

You thinly spread the foundation across your face, dabbing the liquid evenly all over as you moved onto the next step. You sat there for a long time, perfecting each detail and mole, brushing your brows and coating your eyelashes with mascara, and lastly smacking your lips together after applying lipstick.

You stood in front of your larger mirror that you had ignored and hidden away since you never wanted to see yourself ever, but now you felt prepared. In your eyes you looked prettier. You wore your hair differently, you had earrings and necklaces, the school uniform from last year looking a lot better than you remembered. The confidence boost put a smile on your face as you made your way downstairs and made yourself breakfast.

In the kitchen, your mum was sipping her coffee calmly, but as she saw you walk in, her eyes widened in shock, but she didn't say anything. "Good morning!" You greeted happily, and she waved her hand slowly, still trying to process what was happening. "You look different." She comments, and you are content with that reply, and answer, "Thank you, mum!" You proceed to eat your breakfast and then made your way to school.

At shcool, you felt everyone's eyes hooked on your face. The corridors got quiet when you walked by, and you heard murmurs and whispers about you, "Is that really y/n?" "No way..." "What happened." You didn't know what context to put it in and just walked with hurry in your steps, wanting to get to your class and focus on your studies.

Lunch also happened to be no different compared to before your make over, the group of three girls made their way to your table, cackling amongst themselves, planning what to do today. You, who already finshed your lunch stood up to walk away, not wanting to have an encounter with them, until one of them, the blonde barbie, knocked into you with her lunch tray, spilling her food and drink all over you. "oops!" he chuckled cheerily, enjoying the laughs and fingers pointed at you from around her in the cafeteria. You angrily stood up and rushed over to the bathroom, feeling embarrassed once again.

v. "I WANT TO CHANGE SCHOOLS." You say to your mother after a long while of thinking, fearing that you might make the wrong decision, but what could possibly go worse than how it already is? Your mother is sneering at you from the side as she puts down the bags of groceries by the sink. She hums, and you wait for her reply, feeling your heart beat through your ribs, beating so hard that you start belive it'd jump out of your body any second. To be fair, you'd rather for that to happen than to be rejected of this preposition. "Are you sure?" She asks with uncertainty in her voice after silence, and you nod your head, "Of course." "Think about it for a little more, and then we can ask your father when he returns home." She says and walks away. How much longer could you ponder it when you're already certain.

You help her organise the groceries, washing them in the sink to sterilise it of bacteria before placing it in either the fridge or freezer and taking your sweet time, not knowing what else to do other than lay in your bed or be on your phone scrolling through social media.

So, that's exactly what you did for the past hour or so after your chores.

Of course it was boring, but you had nothing else to do. Homework was done, your room was clean and you could only wait for dinner with your father. You heard the sound of the stove from your room, and rushed down to help prepare with your mother. You plated the dinner table, helped your mum with the dishes and washed them afterwards, now you waited in your seat for your father to arrive home from work.

You hear the door slide open, the sound of keys jiggling from the entrance. You sit straight in your seat, resembling a meerkat on its legs as you inspect the person who enters the kitchen. Your father walks in with his coat still slung over his shoulders, his briefcase slamming onto the kitchen counter while he sighs. "Hello, dad!" You greet him cheerfully, and he simply nods his head in your direction. Your mum rose from her seat to help him with his jacket and hat, but he just shrugs her off, and you notice both of their irritated moods.

Dinner was quiet - the sound of utenstils hitting each other and then being left on the plates filled the house. "y/n wanted to ask something." Your mum blurts out, wanting something to happen, being too awkward in this stale atmosphere. You see him look at you from the corner of your eye and he clears his thoat. "Really? What is it?" He asks, and you manage to utter the same statement from before. It takes a moment before you get a reply again, but he says, "I'll think about it." You pleaded with both your parents to let you change schools until they finally caved in with an extended sigh.

vi. YOU WALKED INTO THE FULL CLASSROOM feeling everyone's eyes glued on you, the feeling being vagualy familiar yet different. Some leaned over to their friend, whispering something, but as you saw them and they made eye contact with you, you wanted to shove yourself inside a locker. "Everyone, this new student ..." You zoned out her speaking until she placed her palm on your shoulder and asked you to intruduse yourself to everyone. "Hello, I am y/n l/n, and I really hope we can all be friendly," You said, and then walked over to the empty seat that the teacher pointed at.

As you take a seat, you take extra notice of your bench mate. Oh, how beautiful she was, her hair looked neat, her skin looked perfect and her eyes... You finally took a seat and did what everyone else did - copying what the teacher wrote. After class, you observed your schedule, confused by where to go. This school was big, and you were a new student who just joined, there was no way you could ask anyone else for help except the teachers, but the one in you room had already left. The girl from beside you tapped you on the shoulder and you turned your head curiously.

"Do you need any help?" She asked, and you nodded. "Help would be appreciated, thanks."

You spent the day with her, laughing and talking like never before. It was comforting to have someone like her beside you. At the end of school, she walked you outside of school and there you saw a group of other people gathered, and they waved in your direction. You turned to see your newly made friend, Yoona, waving back. Her pace quickened as she rushed over to the group, pulling you along by the sleeve of your uniform when she noticed you standing still.

It was a fairly small gang, but they still stared at you as you arrived. They all greeted each other, hugging and chatting till Yoona introduced you to the rest. Her voice sounding so smooth.

As she spoke, you noticed this guy. His hair was long and swept in waves, his eyes soft and brown filled with warmth and kidness. You learnt that his name was Jake from your friend's introduction. "Y/n, wanna come to karaoke with us?" She asked, and you shook your head. "Sorry Yoona, but I gotta head home now" you say, not wanting to interrupt the harmony established amongst the people. She nodded understandingly and let you go, waving her farewell.

On your way home you realised you had made a new friend. A real one at that, but thoughts of insecurities snaked its way into your mind. What if she was just being kind? To say that this could possibly be one of many occurrence was high, and the possibility that you'd fit in was low.

vii. YOU FOUND YOURSELF IN THE PARK with them. You've come to the realisation that a new start was exactly what you needed. Your feet swung you back and forth on the swing, hearing the laughter of everyone around you and feeling the warmth in your heart expand. You had gotten close to everyone, but Jake seemed to have a special place in your heart for some reason.

"Anyone wanna go to the arcade?" Someone called out, and everyone said yes, including you who never went along with them. On the way there, you walked along side Jake, chatting with him and joking. "So what made you change schools so suddenly." He questioned, and you shook your head with an awkward chuckle, "Nothing, I just wanted to." Jake had this friendly smirk on his face as he nudged his shoulder against yours, "you can't be serious. You probably had a lot of friends there." You had your eyes focused on the road as you tried to comply a decent reply. "I mean-" as you were about to answer, everyone had already arrived at the arcade. You found this to be the perfect escape.

Everyone rushed inside, being bombarded with games and bright lights. Almost immediately, you spotted the claw machines. You eyed it like it was candy. There were many plushies, but you really really wanted the bunny one. Jake who was close by saw the way your eyes lit up and approached you with his hands in his pocket. "If you beat me in any game, I'll get you that plushie." He says, and you turn to look up at, his lips being extremely close to your face. "Are you sure you wanna bet?" You asked and he nodded his head, "Go ahead, choose a game." You pointed at an air hockey board and Jake ushered you over there with his palm resting on your shoulder.

You played a couple of games, and you were determined to win. Jake, not so much. His eyes roamed everywhere except for the hockey puck, his eyes landed on your concentrated face a handful of times, observing your reaction to each goal. You easily won and rushed over to his side, cheering. Your smiles were contagious, and Jake laughed, exposing his pearly teeth. "You wanted that white bunny, right?" He asked, and you nodded. "You could get whichever one, really." He made his way to the machine, you standing beside him. Jake kissed his coin before inerting it into the machine. It took him many tries before he sighed and collected his calm once more. "You don't really need to continue, Jake." You tell him, but she shakes his head and stretches his arms and back. "I'll get it this time. I might need more luck though." You see him point at his cheek with a smug smile. "That's silly." You reply sarcastically and he pleads with you giving you the puppy eyes before caving in. You stand on your toes and quickly peck him on the cheek shyly. Your heart was pounding and you could feel your cheeks turn rosy at the act.

He winks at you once before turning to the machine with one last try. His focus is evident in his fierceful gaze and you also hope for him to win this time, mostly becuase you start to feel bad for all the coins he's lost.

While being consumed by your own thoughts, Jake celebrated his win. He turned around to hand you the bunny, but saw you spacing out. He snapped his fingers in you face and you shook you back into reality. You finally processed the fact that he had won after staring at the plush in his arms. Jake gently hands it to you and you take it with a smile. "Woah! Thank you so much!" You thank him over all the other people's conversations around you two.

The rest of the evening was spent with silent glances that held adoration between the two of you. and eventually, it was time to go home. You all gathered outside the arcade to wave each other off before going their separate ways.

You notice that Jake was taking the same way as you and you stopped in your tracks to let him catch up to you. "Do you also take this way?" You asked him. "Kind of, I actually wanted to walk you home." He rubbed the back of his neck before you two began walking again. "You could've told me before, you almost looked like a creep." Jake chuckled at your remark and said, "I would've, but I guess I got shy." with his thick accent seeping through.

The sound of crickets and owls hooting filled in the silence during the short walk to your front door step. "Thanks for walking me home, Jake." You say as you search for your keys in your purse. He was silent for a while as you unlocked your door. "Y/n, I have something to ask you." You turned to him curiously and arched an eyebrow. He was obviously nervous as you saw him fidgeting with his own fingers and clearing his throat over and over again to muster up the courage to ask,

viii. "WILL YOU GO TO PROM WITH ME, Y/N?" It had totally slipped your mind that prom was soon. You stood there wide eyed at the question. "You're not joking with me right." You wonder if he's pranking you, but he shakes his head. "Why would I joke with a pretty girl like you." His tone sounds genuine, but you still can't shake this feeling of uncertainty. "There's many other people you could've asked, but instead you chose me." The identical feeling of hopelessness returned after finally being chased away. "Becuase I only want you. Y/n, please." It takes a while for you to open your mouth an reply, but you feel the cold sweat coat your hairline and seeing Jake's soft expression was not helping you to calm down.

"I need to think about it, sorry."

You take notice of how Jake's expression turns dark when you shut the door and lock it behind you. You rush up the stairs and sprint into your room, ignoring your mother's calls. The plushy you had gotten from Jake was thrown onto your bed as you hurry to look out the window, observing him walk away from you. To your surprise, you see him look back at your house. Hurriedly, you pull out a diary that you had hidden under your mattress and write about everything, it isn't until after you're done taking notes that you feel bad for Jake. How must he feel?

You take a look at the plush he gifted you, and groan at the dilemma.

ix. THE NEXT DAY at school you searched for Jake everywhere, but you never saw him. Your mood visibly worsened as the day had come to an end without seeing him once. Yoona took notice of this and decided to question you. "Is everything okay?" She asked you and you nodded your head with a hum. "Yoona, have you seen Jake today?" She shakes her head and pulls out her phone. "He sent me a text this morning that he wouldn't come today since he felt under the weather. Why?" "Nothing, just wondering." You quickly blubber, grabbing your stuff quickly. "Hey, what's the rush? Wait for me alright." You hear Yoona chuckle as she packs her stuff. You apologise and wait for her.

You two part ways at the split road with a hug, and you gradually start to jog your way to his place. You stand there on his door step, bag slung over your shoulder with your fingers twisting the hem of your skirt. "Is it too late to turn around?", you think you to yourself. You shake away these thoughts, and raise your curled up fist to knock, but to your surprise, Jake opened the door, his eyes looked equally as shocked as yours. "Uhm, so I wanted to talk to you." You utter, and see Jake sigh. "Sure, I'm going on a walk if you wanna follow along." You nod and walk behind him.

"So, I've been thinking." His interest perks, and he glances your way. "I'll go to prom with you, but I don't understand why me? I'm not pretty. I'm not that ....good." You voice comes out weak, and Jake stops walking. "Don't say that. Not only are you incredibly beautiful, but you're also so, so kind and caring." He approaches you, his hand gliding up your cheek. "Are you not angry at me?" You ask, trying to avoid his eyes. "Angry? At you? That's ridiculous." He scoffs playfully, and you finally get the courage to look him in the eyes. "I might've been slightly upset since I thought you rejected me, but i guess I have a date for prom!" He smiles brightly and you look at him awestruck. "Of course," you reply and kiss him on the cheek once again with your arms swung around his neck, and his arms instinctively wrap around your waist. "You make me so happy." He is smiling widely as he pecks your face with butterfly kisses.

TAGLIST :: @swaivy

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day twelve.

Hands + Mirror Sex (2.2k words)

summary: Your wandering eyes lead you to the best show you have ever seen.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, chocking, mirror sex, unprotected sex, creampie.

The Austin GP turned out nothing like you expected it to. Sure, the car didn’t have the pace and the McLaren wasn’t the quickest car this weekend, but that last lap was really what made your blood boil. How was that even fair? It wasn’t, and you knew Lando wasn’t going to be his bubbly self after how that turned out.

You saw it coming; he was usually down for the tiniest things, but this? You were already thinking a million things to take his head off the result, at least for a little while.

He got out of the car, and you could see he was disappointed, taking his gloves off and walking with his head down as he made his way to the garage. 

“Lando,” you softly called him as you got close to him. He still had his helmet on, so you couldn’t see any more than his eyes, which didn’t look as happy as they did before the race. “I’m really proud of you, despite everything, you did the best you could out there.”

He let out a sigh as he took his helmet off. Lando was pissed, and so was everyone else. “Yeah, didn’t really have a choice there.” He said, ripping the balaclava off his head.

His hair bounced a bit as he did so, which usually made you smile and want to run your hand through his curls, but the way his hands looked as he fisted the material had your eyes fixated there, and you didn’t even notice at first, but as soon as you did, you tried to look back at him as he vented a little, but he just looked so good you just couldn’t look away. Suddenly, you forgot what you were talking about. 

“It was a little messy, definitely not what we were hoping for. Max clearly went way too hard and also gained an advantage with it, but I guess don’t make the rules. I tried, but he went off the track too, so I didn’t have a choice. I don’t know what they were expecting me to do, really.” Lando let out another loud sigh as anger stained his words, clearly waiting for you to say something back, but when you were silent for a little too long, he followed where your eyes fell, a smirk creeping on his face when he realised. “Are you listening to me?”

“Huh?” You looked up at him, feeling bad for not getting a single word that left his mouth. “Yes, you did great, honey.” You gazed up at him for a moment, your face burning in embarrassment, but that was long forgotten when your eyes fell to his hand again — this time, the one holding the hemet.

Lando stepped closer to you, forcing you to look at him as he whispered, “I guess you’ve got other things in mind. Good, you’ll help me forget about this shitshow later.”

With that, he walked away, ready to take on his post-race duties. Now you were embarrassed.

It took a good while for them to finish everything up; with media and the debrief, you were left to wait for him in his room. The wait felt like hours, especially knowing what you signed yourself up to with your wandering eyes.

Finally, you saw him come through the door and quickly grab his things. “Let’s go, we’re getting out of here.” He looked oddly calm and collected as he handed his hand out to you, which you happily took.

“So what was the debrief? Is the team going to say something?”

“Oh, so now you wanna talk about it.”

You playfully punched his arm with your elbow as you both left the small room, walking to the car that would take you back to the hotel. The ride back was pretty normal, just talking about random things and what you would do before heading to Mexico; it wasn’t until the hotel door closed behind you that his demeanour completely changed.

He pushed you against the door as his things fell to the ground, capturing your lips in a needy kiss. “Couldn’t even vent properly cause your mind was too focused on my hands,” he said into the kiss, biting your bottom lip softly before kissing you again. 

All you could do was kiss him back as low whimpers scaped your lips. But then you felt one of his big hands caressing your tummy, slowly making its way up to your neck. Your heart nearly stopped beating when he wrapped a hand around it, putting a little pressure as the other one fell on your bum. It was simply impossible to stay quiet in that moment.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered before locking eyes with you. 

You could feel a red tint spread across your face at how much that turned you on as a burning feeling grew between your legs. “No,” you said, following his lips once again. 

He was smiling against them, applying a little more pressure as he guided you into the room. Instinctively, your feet were walking towards the bed, but with a sudden squeeze, he stopped you. 

“Not tonight. I didn’t know you enjoyed them so much, sweetheart, you deserve a show.” 

Lando kept walking until you made it to the bathroom, only stopping when you were both in front of the big, full-sized mirror. He turned you around so you would face yourself, but kept his hand around your neck.

“Undress for me, baby.”

You did as he said, slowly taking every piece of clothing as your eyes fixated on his big hand, veins prominent as he held you. His other one was exploring your body as it lost the layers, squeezing every inch of your skin.

His eyes never left your face; he was truly enjoying your expression change as he got closer to your folds, your teeth capturing your lower lip as he reached your pussy.

“Is this what you’ve been thinking about all day? Mhm? My hands making you feel good?”

All you could do was nod, your clit already invaded as he played with it slowly. He teased you for a couple of minutes, until a desperate moan made him apply more pressure and dip a big finger in your dripping hole. It always felt good, of course it did, but there was something about watching him do it, his finger disappearing inside you, glistening in your arousal.

Lando got closer to your ear — so close to you you could feel his warm breath hitting your skin. “This is what I get to see every night under me. Do you like what you see, love?” 

“Uh huh,” you replied, your mind too focused on your pleasure to form any words.

His pace quickened as he inserted another finger, making everything intensify by a thousand, your legs almost giving in. You caught a glimpse of his face, his gaze so deep and immersed in making you come. This almost made you crumble, until he stopped.

“On your knees,” he demanded. You were a bit confused by this, but who were you to deny him? You were about to turn around to face him, thinking he was asking you for a blowjob, but you saw him shaking his head in his reflection. “You’ll be facing yourself. Like I said, you deserve a show.”

You went on your knees and watched him undress himself, his eyes locked with yours as his clothes fell to the ground somewhere in the over-the-top hotel bathroom. You were almost salivating at the sight, and you knew he was teasing you by how slow he was being, but you were so desperate to feel something that your fingers found your needy pussy. Oh but by the look that he gave you, you knew he didn’t like that one bit.

“Not so fast, baby.” He said it with an extremely low voice, and your hand immediately fell to your thigh.

Lando kneeled behind you, now completely naked, as he grabbed the hand that just seconds ago was buried between your folds. His eyes found yours again, and without hesitation and an intense look, he took your wet fingers in his mouth, licking them clean with a moan. God, was he trying to kill you?

“You tend to get so desperate, my love. You know how much I hate that.”

“S-sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay. Just let me do the work.”

You saw him grab his cock, or at least you knew he did, but his reflection was hiding behind you. With a few tugs, he guided it to your pussy, running his head through your folds a few times to take some of your wetness.

“Ready?” He asked, and you just nodded. Once he was perfectly positioned behind you, he sunk his cock into you, loving the way your mouth fell open as he was buried deep inside you. As he gave you some time to adjust, his right hand went back to wrap around your neck, giving it the right amount of pressure. “You’re gonna love the view.”

He started slamming into you, slowly at first, his arm wrapping around your torso to keep you stable. You nearly couldn’t believe your eyes; the way he was holding you, his veins more visible than ever, his pretty face contortioning in pleasure, his cock disappearing inside you. He was right, what a show.

It was almost too much, he was hitting all the right spots. Moans, whimpers, and skin snapping against yours echoed in the bathroom, your hot bodies steaming as he fucked you from behind, making the mirror in front of you somewhat foggy. But you needed more.

“Lando,” you whimpered.

He hummed in response, and almost as if he knew exactly what you were asking for, his fingers found your clit, rubbing small but quick circles. This almost made you lose balance, but it was so worth it.

You couldn’t help your eyes closing for a moment as your mind got so lost in pleasure you thought you were about to pass out, but with a hard squeeze on your neck, he demanded you to open them, finding his deep, dark gaze.

“I said you would be watching yourself, remember? Keep ‘em open for me.”

You nodded as your eyes explored the image in front of you, your mesmerised stare encouraging him to go faster and harder. With his mouth positioned right beside your ear, you could hear every little sound he was making, moans and senseless words through gritted teeth as he tried to keep it together.

He wasn’t gonna lie; even though he made it clear he wanted you to enjoy the show, he was enjoying it just as much, if not more. You had never done it in front of a mirror, but now that he knew what that was like, he would definitely be suggesting it more.

It was like he couldn’t get enough of you; he always got to see you take it, but this? This was different. He was slamming you so hard he knew he wasn’t gonna last long, so he had to make sure you were close.

“Gonna cum for me? Gonna watch yourself cum in my cock?”

“Yes, please.” You were begging at this point. You were also close, and with him applying more pressure on your clit, that feeling only got more and more intense. You were sure your knees would be bruised by the end of this, but that was the least of your worries as you felt you were about to snap. “So close,” you whimpered.

“Good.”

With a few more thrusts, you fell over the edge, the loudest scream he has ever heard leaving your lips. His fingers left your pussy as he felt you combulsing against him, wrapping his arm around you again to stop you from falling forward.

You didn’t care anymore, you closed your eyes in pure euphoria as your orgasm hit you, your hand falling in the mirror in front of you and leaving a print in it. The sight before him and the way your pussy was pulsing around him brought him to a sweet release, pumping into you a few more times before his hot cum spilled inside you.

Heavy breaths took over the bathroom. You slowly opened your eyes to meet his, the view almost making you horny again.

“Did you like what you saw, sweetheart?” He asked, this time using the sweetest voice known to man. Anyone that heard him mutter those words would never imagine what he was truly asking you.

“Yes. We have to do this again.” Breathless words escaped your lips.

“You haven’t even seen the best part.” As he said this, he slipped out of you, your combined fluids dripping out of you. Both of you stared at the way your thighs got tainted with them, and you almost felt embarrassed at how his stare lingered for a little too long. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” And with a kiss to your temple, he stood up and made his way to the shower, turning it on and making sure the temperature was right.

He came back to you a few seconds later and handed out his hand to help you get up, his arms were holding you as you made a mental note to get a bigger mirror for your shared room back home.

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