#I think I took a picture of one of the drawings but it's on my old tablet :[

[enwoso]

the grumpiest day | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

-> based on this request

grumpy masterlist

it all started with a sock.

not even a missing one, not even a particularly dirty one. just a tiny, pink, glittery sock with a unicorn on it, abandoned halfway down the staircase.

and unfortunately for leah, it was the first thing she encountered at 7:36 a.m, barefoot and uncaffeinated.

she stepped on it. slid slightly. nearly died, in her humble opinion. "seriously?" she muttered, flicking it off her foot with the grace of a disgruntled cat. "y/n!"

from the living room, a small but unbothered voice replied, "it's mine! i was gonna pick it up, i swear!"

"really? cause it's lying in wait like a sock-shaped trap!"

there was a pause. then: "you're grumpy."

leah exhaled. "and you're messy." it having been a long two week break for the three of you. you being off school full of energy each day and the footballing season seeing alessia and leah with a few more days off. it had meant there had been a lot of bumping of heads, not even bad — more dramatic and unnecessary really.

upstairs, alessia spat toothpaste into the sink and froze mid-rinse. tilting her head like a dog who heard its favourite squeaky toy. trouble. it had begun. the grump-off and she hadn't even been able to have her morning coffee in peace before it began.

—

by 9:00 a.m, tensions had escalated to cold war levels.

you had refused leah's toast she'd made, 'it's crispy, not toast, it tastes like burnt air!' and then leah had outright banned cartoons 'i am not watchin' bluey again, i'd rather eat the glitter sock that nearly killed me this morning'

alessia, caught between the toddler hurricane and her grumbling girlfriend, tried her best to keep the peace with snacks, deep breathing, and that tight, diplomatic smile she wore during post-match interviews when she wanted to scream.

you sulked in your room with your crayons, scribbling something angrily while muttering, 'mama is not my best friend today.'

leah sulked in the living room, muttering back to waffles, "she's five. why am i arguing with a five-year-old? she's a tiny little dictator."

the only thing louder than the silence was the mutual stubbornness.

—

you both through your own stubbornness forgot about the visitor that was coming over, as ella showed up just after three. man united being down in london for an away game her suitcase in tow, wide smile plastered on her face.

"ello, elloooo!" she sang, letting herself in like she owned the place. "oi, i brought biscuits and northern charm, who wants to be blessed?"

she walked straight into the thickest atmosphere since the 2022 final. "why does it feel like i walked into a funeral?" she asked, pausing mid-kitchen stride as she saw alessia sat at the kitchen table nursing a coffee in her own peace

alessia rubbed her temple standing up to give the manchester girl a hug. "they've fell out."

ella blinked. "who? leah and tiny?" alessia hummed, nodding her head, "over a sock."

ella's mouth dropped open. then she laughed, full and unapologetic. "oh my god, no way. let me guess—leah took it personally and tiny declared war.”

"pretty much, yeah.”

"well least neither of them have over reacted! where are they both now?"

alessia gestured vaguely. "leah's sulking in the living room watching a rom-com. and lovie is drawing pictures of leah with devil horns in her room, i think."

"right well it's intervention time."

—

fifteen minutes later, they were all in the living room. alessia curled up with a mug of tea, while ella had flopped across the armchair with a handful of biscuits and in the middle of the couch sat the two grumps. both of you with shoulders hunched, eyes narrowed and both of you refusing to go first.

ella took charge, like a seasoned camp counselor. "right, you two. this mood is not what being a family is about!"

you sniffled, folding your arms across your chest, well tried to. "mama shouted at me." leah huffed as she let out a sigh of defeat, "ok, i raised my voice a little bit."

"she said my socks were a trap."

"they were! i nearly fell to my death!"

"so dramatic," you muttered, letting you back fall against the back of the couch as ella nearly choked on her biscuit from holding in laughter. alessia shot her a look and mouthed help me.

ella cleared her throat. "okay. leah you need to say sorry."

leah sighed and rubbed her face. "fine. little one, i'm sorry for snapping. i didn't mean to be scary and upset you."

you narrowed your eyes. "and?"

"...and your socks are cute. even if they are a little bit dangerous." you smiled triumphantly.

"and you?" ella asked, turning to the little face as your smile dropped a little bit.

"i'm sorry mama for leaving my sock on the stairs. and for saying you were a monster."

leah raised a brow. "you said that?"

"only to the waffles."

"wow."

alessia stepped in before another spiral happened. "you've both said sorry. now, can we maybe watch a film and just relax like a proper family?"

"I WANNA WATCH FROZEN!" you shouted, bouncing upright with the energy of someone who hadn't spent the entire day pouting.

leah groaned like someone had just asked her to run ten laps  of the football pitch with a hangover. "again? you've seen it like eighty times."

"it's the best movie ever. you'll like it if you just stop being boring."

"why is that always the solution?" leah asked no one in particular as she flopped onto the sofa, close to alessia as she sipped at her mug of tea.

you climbed up beside her, victorious, clutching the remote like a scepter. "cause' you need to let it go, mama."

ella burst out laughing. "okay, no, she wins. that's it. game over."

alessia settled beside leah, tucking her legs underneath her. "you could just sing along, just this once. for the memories."

leah's head fell into her hands as the opening credits started. "i think i would rather watch paint dry."

next to her, you were already swaying to the music, eyes sparkling, mouthing the words like you were in the west end.

ella leaned over to alessia, whispering through laughter, "i'm not saying i told you so, but i am watching the grumpiest defender in england get emotionally bullied into watching frozen by a five-year-old."

leah peeked through her fingers. "i heard that."

you gasped. "auntie ella, you have to be quiet! it's starting!" ella immediately put her hands in the air in defense not wanting to argue her point as alessia chuckled to herself.

"that's you told."

and just like that, as elsa belted her first note, peace (mostly) returned. ella passed alessia a biscuit. "well done, mum. crisis averted."

alessia just smiled, eyes on her little girl and her very reluctant girlfriend, who, by the second chorus, was... maybe humming. just a little as her head rested on alessia's chest.

ella smirked. "told you."

[hyunjincanraptoo]

Escape... to Rio- H.HJ

So, I promised myself that I wouldn't write for skz in my country cause I'm already delulu af but after seeing my boys in Brazil... I kinda had to. And I know Brazil isn't just Rio but it's a city I really want to meet one day. Also, I was going to post this fic in 2 weeks on my bday but it's done and I felt bad for not posting anything these days so, here it is.

A special shout out to my beautiful friend @jehhskz. Thanks for giving me ideas for the dancing scene. At least in the fanfic we can dream hahah

Note: I made a summary with references to Brazil and words in Portuguese. It's linked in each of them. Hope it helps 😊

Word count: 6.3k (2.1k is smut 🤭)

Warnings: smut

Alexa, play So Good by Hyunjin (this song is 🔥)

Rio at night had a different kind of magic. The air carried the scent of grilled meat and the sea breeze, music spilled from every open doorway, and the streets pulsed with laughter and warmth. Hyunjin had been here for only a few days, but he was already spellbound.

He hadn't planned on stumbling into this bar tonight. It was one of those small, modest places tucked into the corner of a lively street, the kind that promised cheap drinks, good music, and a night worth of remembering. He barely noticed the neon glow of the sign when he stepped inside cause his focus had immediately been drawn elsewhere:

You.

You were on the tiny stage, a mic in hand, singing in a language he didn’t fully understand, but it didn’t matter. Your voice wrapped around the room like honey, drawing everyone in. Including him— especially him.

He didn’t mean to take so many pictures, but his fingers moved on instinct, capturing every shift of light on your face, every flicker of emotion in your eyes. He didn’t even realize how many shots he had taken until you finished your set and the applauses died down. And then, suddenly, you were walking toward him.

You approached with a confident stride, amusement glinting in your eyes. At first, you spoke in Portuguese, words he quite recognized but couldn’t string together fast enough.

"O-oi…?", he fumbled, the greeting coming out uncertain.

You tilted your head, "Hum?".

Still lost, he opened his mouth, but you cut in smoothly, switching to English with a teasing smile dancing on your lips, "Will you ever talk to me, or are you just going to keep taking pictures like a creep?".

His face burned instantly, "I… I'm sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable". He stumbled over his words, rubbing the back of his neck as he laughed in embarrassment, "Your performance was beautiful. I just… wanted to remember it".

You slid into the empty seat across from him, "Let me see”.

Hyunjin hesitated for half a second before handing over his camera. He watched as you looked through the photos, your expression shifting between intrigue and amusement.

"You’re really good at this”, you admitted, looking up, "But I still think you like me too much".

He choked on his own breath, "W-what?!".

You laughed, eyes twinkling under the bar soft lights, "Just saying. You’ve got, like, thirty pictures of me in here".

He had no argument for that. Instead, he grabbed his drink and took a hurried sip, only to wince as the alcohol hit his tongue, "Oh my god, that’s strong!"

"It’s cachaça. Strong, but good".

You waved down a waiter, ordering a round of caipirinhas. Hyunjin had heard about them but never tried one. When the drinks arrived, he took a sip and immediately blinked in surprise, "Wow. That hits harder than I thought".

You grinned, "Told you…"

He looked at you,eyes wide— apparently, you had no idea who he was. “Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin”

“Nice to meet you, Hyunjin. I’m Yn”.

“Yn”, your name rolled off his tongue like it was something holy.

“Where are you from, Hyunjin?”

“South Korea”

“Wow! You’re far from home… Anyway, welcome to Brazil”.

The conversation flowed easily from there, laughter between sips of caipirinha and small bites of snacks. Hyunjin had never felt this at ease with someone he just met, but something about you— your energy, your presence— drew him in like a tide, unstoppable and sure.

At some point in the night, you leaned in slightly, eyes holding his as you smirked., "You know what, Hyunjin? I’m starting to like you"

And just like that, he was completely lost in you.

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

Days passed, and you and Hyunjin became inseparable,  like the sun and the sea. Everywhere you went, he was by your side, wide eyed and eager, taking in every new experience with a mix of curiosity and wonder.

One afternoon, you took him to the Leme Beach— a stretch of golden sand where the waves kissed the shore in a healing rhythm. Hyunjin was used to being busy, constantly moving, constantly expected to be somewhere doing something.

But there, under the Brazilian sun, you taught him how to do nothing. How to stretch out on a beach towel and let the ocean breeze carry his worries away.

How to sip on fresh coconut water directly from the coconut and let the salt of the ocean cling to his skin. How to enjoy a cold and sweet açai bowl, to let the deep purple stain his lips as he unworriedly hummed in delight.

"This is my new favorite thing", he declared, spooning another bite into his mouth, "I swear, I could live off this".

You laughed, "Just wait till I take you to eat real homemade Brazilian food".

Later that day, you brought him to a cozy restaurant owned by a family, a place that smelled like the aroma of spices and homemade meals. The plates came full, steaming with feijoada, rice, farofa, and manioc fries. Hyunjin was in heaven. That is, until he took too big of a spoonful of farofa and nearly choked.

"Oh my god…", he coughed, reaching for his drink as you tried, and failed, to hold back laughter. "Why is this thing so dry?!"

"You have to mix it with the beans, rookie".

Despite the near death experience, he finished every bite, sighing in satisfaction while rubbing his full belly, "I think I love Brazilian food".

That night, you took him somewhere different— one of those small corner bars, where the music was loud, the beer was cold, and the air was filled with the scent of fried snacks and laughter. Hyunjin didn’t know the song playing, but he knew it made him want to move. So when you grabbed his hand and pulled him to dance, he didn’t resist.

"I don’t know how to dance like this", he admitted, glancing around at the swaying bodies.

"It's called funk. I’ll teach you. Just follow me”.

He stumbled at first, his movements stiff and unsure. But then he caught on— especially the hip movements. You raised an eyebrow as he got a little too much into it.

His confidence only grew as he experimented, testing the rhythm with sharper, more fluid motions, rolling his hips in sync with the beat. His eyes lit up, and he turned to you with a mischievous grin, getting closer.

"Like this?", he asked, his voice low, his movements now, fluid and confident.

The sway of his body had an effortless sensuality to it, something that made your breath hitch for half a second.

You huffed a laugh, pushing his shoulder playfully.

"Alright, showoff. I see you", you teased, laughing as he grinned, rolling his hips with ease now, "How do you learn this so fast?"

"I’m... a dancer", he said with a cheeky smile.

But then, the music shifted, melting into a softer rhythm— a slow forró that made the entire bar quiet just a little, conversations dipped into whispers, and the sway of bodies turned tender. You didn’t need to say anything. Hyunjin was already pulling you closer.

"You lead", you murmured with a teasing smile, already placing your thigh between his legs, your chest brushing against his as he instinctively adjusted to the closeness.

He hesitated only for a second before your arms slid around his shoulders as his hands settled on your waist, fingers spreading gently like he was memorizing every curve of you. His touch wasn’t bold, just warm and delicate but with enough pressure.

His forehead almost touched yours, heavy breath brushing your skin. You could smell the faint trace of cologne on his neck, something woody and freshy, mixed with sweat from the long day.

Hyunjin’s gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back, his hand gripping more confidently on your waist as you swayed your hips together as one.

"You’re good at this”, you whispered, voice low near his ear.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm on your skin, “I’m just following the music. And you”.

Your fingers tightened on his shoulder as the space between you disappeared entirely. The kind of closeness that wasn’t about bodies, but energy. Something magnetic.

Hyunjin’s thumb brushed soft circles on your skin as he held you. You didn’t know if it was the music, the drinks from earlier, or just him but your whole body felt warmer.

"You smell like summer" he whispered, voice barely brushing your ear.

You glanced up at him, smiling softly, "And you smell like temptation", you murmured back, eyes glinting with amusement.

He laughed, soft and breathless, but his gaze didn’t leave yours. Not for a second. In that moment, everything else faded— the crowd, the music, the bar itself. It was just you, him, and the slow rhythm pulling you closer, like the universe had turned everything else off just so you could feel this.

Just so he could fall a little more with you.

When the song ended, neither of you moved right away. His hands stayed where they were, yours still resting on his shoulders, as if letting go would break whatever spell between you. But the world slowly returned— the clinking of glasses, a burst of laughter nearby, the next song picking up with a faster rhythm. You both blinked, a little dazed, before stepping apart.

Hyunjin scratched the back of his neck, cheeks flushed, “I think I just fell in love with Brazilian music”, he said, voice light but eyes serious.

You smiled, “Only the music?”.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, laughing nervously, “Guilty as charged”.

You nudged him playfully and reached for his hand again, tugging him back toward your small table by the sidewalk. The streets were alive with people, warm yellow lights hanging above like stars that never left, and your drinks waited, sweating slightly in the tropical night air.

“Do you always make strangers fall for you this easily?”, he asked, half joking as he sipped his beer.

You tilted your head at him,  “Are you always this obvious?”.

He nearly choked, coughing into his drink as you laughed, wiping a drip from his chin with your thumb. It was casual, intimate, like it wasn’t the most natural thing in the world to touch him like that.

And somehow, it was.

He stared at you for a second longer, brows drawing together like he was trying to figure something out.

Finally, he said it, “You really don’t know who I am… do you?”.

You blinked, “Hyunjin, right? Tourist. From Korea. Likes açaí, bad at farofa, weirdly good at hip thrusts”.

He grinned, “That’s one way to put it”.

You leaned closer, voice soft and teasing. “Is there something else I should know?”

Hyunjin just smiled, “No, not yet”.

And with that, the night went on filled with shared food, stolen glances, and a sense that something was shifting. That something real was blooming between the differences of language and culture.

And Hyunjin, in his quiet heart, already knew: this trip was never just about Brazil. It was about finding you.

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

A few days later:

The day dawned sunny, perfect for the beach. But at the moment the two of you put your feet on the sand, the sky shifted before you even realized it.

The warm sunlight gave way to sudden dark clouds, then a soft drizzle that turned heavy within seconds. People around you ran for cover, but you and Hyunjin just stood there, drenched.

He laughed, tilting his head back as the rain soaked his buzzed hair and clothes, his white shirt clinging to his chest. You covered your face, squealing at the cold, and he took your hand, spinning you in a playful circle right there on the sidewalk.

“Hyunjin!”, you laughed, slipping slightly on the wet stone.

He caught you with both hands, pulling you into his chest. You looked up at him, rain dripping from your lashes, and he smiled. His eyes were full of that quiet warmth he saved just for you. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing along your jaw, and he kissed you.

It was messy and wet but it was perfect. The mix of the cold rain in contrast to his warm tongue against yours made something stir inside your chest.

When you broke apart, he leaned his forehead to yours, grinning like a fool. “A vida presta", he whispered in accented Portuguese, soft and sure.

You laughed, heart full of warmth, “Yeah, a vida presta when I’m with you”.

As the time passed by and you both dried and changed clothes, Hyunjin found himself sitting comfortably on the couch, legs stretched out long, absentmindedly playing with the rim of his glass. The warm glow of the late afternoon sun was filtered through the wooden blinds, creating golden lines across the terracotta tiles of your living room.

“I swear, I almost got scammed at the market the other day”, he said, shaking his head, “The lady tried to charge me double for a coconut. She thought I wouldn’t notice”

You laughed, stretching out on the couch beside him, “You do kind of scream tourist, you know”.

Hyunjin feigned offense, pressing a hand to his chest, “Excuse me?! I blend in perfectly”.

You raised an eyebrow, “You were wearing an ‘I Love Rio’ shirt yesterday”

“Okay… fair”, he grinned, dimples appearing, and leaned forward slightly, “But it worked, didn’t it? I got my coconut and a free snack out of pity”.

You shook your head, watching the way the golden light highlighted the curve of his jaw and the soft edges of his mouth. He looked at home there, stretched out lazily, long fingers tracing patterns on the couch fabric. It was unfair how effortlessly attractive he was. How could he be ridiculously stupid one second and devastatingly handsome the next?

“You’re so funny”, you murmured, tilting your head as a teasing smile played on your lips, “Or maybe just cute”.

Then, with a softer voice, you added, “I could keep myself busy with you for thirty hours”.

Hyunjin blinked, his grip tightening slightly around his glass. His expression shifted from playful to something more unreadable, more dark, “Yeah? I can satisfy you for thirty hours”.

His voice was lower now, rougher, like he was already imagining exactly what thirty hours with you would include.

You only smiled, tilting your chin up in a silent challenge. Hyunjin exhaled a quiet laugh, then set his drink down and moved closer, one hand resting on the back of the couch beside you. The air between you two grew thick, heavy with something unspoken yet undeniably present.

“That’s a dangerous thing”, he murmured, studying your face and lips, “To say things like that so casually”.

“And you’re easily flustered”, you teased, brushing a finger lightly over the inside of his wrist.  

The heat of the afternoon wrapped around you, making the air feel heavier, making the warmth of your bodies feel even hotter. A trail of sweat rolled down the side of Hyunjin’s neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his tank top, and you had the sudden, dizzying thought of following its path with your tongue. Hyunjin must have felt it too, because his fingers twitched against the couch’’s fabric before he finally touched you— just barely, fingertips skimming over your exposed knee, slow and teasing.

“Thirty hours?”, he murmured, voice dripping desire against your skin. “That’s a long time”

“You think you wouldn’t last?”, your voice was softer now, teasing but breathless, because the way he was looking at you— like he wanted to consume you whole— was making it hard to breathe.

He smirked, “Oh, I definitely would last”. His hand slid higher, an unhurried movement, the heat of his palm brushing against your skin, “I’d take my time with you”.

The ceiling fan spun lazily above you but you felt sweat gather at the back of your neck as Hyunjin leaned in, so close now that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek.

“If I kissed you right now”, he said, voice impossibly low, “You think you’d still be talking?”.

You swallowed, heart pounding hard, “Try me”. 

Hyunjin didn’t need to be told twice. His lips brushed against yours, slow and lingering. The way his fingers tightened on your thigh, the way he deepened the kiss, slow but devastating made everything hotter.

And when he pulled back, just enough to meet your eyes, he was already smirking. “That’s one hour down”.

You exhaled a shaky laugh, fingers curling in his clothes to pull him back in, “Then you better make the next twenty nine worth it”.

Hyunjin hummed against your lips, tilting your back into the couch with a lazy smile, “Oh, I will, baby”.

And by the way he was looking at you, you knew he was keeping his word.

Hyunjin’s lips moved slowly against yours, but still teasingly, as if savoring the taste, the feel of you. His fingers curled around the curve of your thigh,gripping tightly, spreading fire to your whole low body. You could feel the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of your shorts, the contrast of his cool rings against your flushed skin made you shiver.

“You feel warm”, he murmured against your lips, and you could feel the smirk on his voice.

“Is it the weather?,  his fingers traced slow, lazy patterns against your inner thigh, “Or me?”.

You exhaled, nails digging into his shoulder, “You talk too much”.

Hyunjin chuckled, a soft, teasing sound that vibrated against your mouth,  “Then do something about it”.

And you did.

Straddling his lap, your body arched on top of his. His skin was hot beneath your fingertips, damp from the lingering warmth of the hot day. The scent of salt clung to him, a reminder of the beach, of the sun, of how long you had wanted to do this.

Hyunjin groaned softly as you moved against him, his hands gripping your waist, guiding your hips down onto his in a slow, maddening rhythm. The thin layers of fabric between the both of you did nothing to lessen the friction. If anything, it only made the anticipation worse.

“You’re so…”, his words trailed off into a low, breathy sigh as you rolled your hips against his, slow and torturous, “You’re… fuck…”

You smirked, pressing an open mouthed kiss to his neck, feeling the way he swallowed hard beneath your lips, “What was that?”, you whispered.

Hyunjin’s breath faltered,  “N-nothing”. His grip on you tightened, fingertips pressing into your skin with just enough pressure to make you dizzy, “Just… keep going”.

The only sound aside from your breathless sighs was the quiet creak of the couch beneath you.

Outside, the sun had begun to set, but still, the heat of the day still clung to the air, heavy and suffocating, but neither of you minded. Not when his hands were on you like this, guiding, gripping, making slow, torturous movements.

Not when his voice dropped to a whisper, rough and needy against your skin, “You said thirty hours”.

His teeth grazed the shell of your ear, making you shudder. “But I don’t think you can handle that”.

You exhaled shakily, your fingers threading through his damp hair, “You’re the one who should be worried”

Hyunjin let out a low, breathless laugh before flipping your positions in one smooth motion, pinning you beneath him on the couch. His knee pressed between your legs, his weight warm and heavy, making you gasp as he leaned down.

“Oh, baby”, he murmured, smiling, “I’m just getting started”

And then, just like that, the heat became overwhelming in the best way possible.

The couch creaked beneath you two as Hyunjin kissed you again— slower this time, deeper, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless. One of his hands slid under your shirt, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, dragging higher, until he found the swell of your breast.

“God”, he whispered, his voice hoarse and shaking, “You feel so good… I’ve been thinking about this since the night I met you”.

You arched into his touch with a quiet gasp, your hand slipping beneath the back of his shirt to feel the heat of his bare skin, damp with sweat and impossibly soft.

“You’re talking too much again”, you murmured, but your voice was ragged, your words breaking into a moan as his thumb rolled over your nipple, slow and deliberate under the fabric of your bra.  

“I can’t help it”, he breathed, dragging his mouth down to your jaw, “You drive me crazy, Yn… I don’t think you know what you do to me”.

His other hand slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, palm pressing low onto your stomach, making you let out a soft whimper at the promise of it. 

“Can I?”, he asked, eyes dark, pupils blown wide. He was breathless— completely wrecked— and yet still waiting for your word.

“Yes”, you whispered, hips tilting up to meet him, “Yes, Hyunjin… please”.

Seeing you beg for him made something twitch inside of his boxers.  

So he didn’t hesitate. His fingers dipped beneath your underwear, sliding through the heat of you, and his breath caught hard in his throat. 

“Shit…”, he cursed, eyes locked with yours. “You’re soaked”

“It’s the heat”, you teased, “And I’m not talking about the weather”.

Hyunjin laughed but the sound was cut short as he pressed a finger inside you, slow and deep. Your mouth fell open, hands fisting in the back of his shirt as you arched off the couch. The rhythm he set was unhurried, purposeful. Each stroke of his fingers driving you more and more wild. His mouth was never far from your skin, kissing, licking, tasting you completely. Sweat slicked your bodies, making it easier to slide, to grind, to move together like you’d done this one hundred times.  

His name left your lips in broken pieces, again and again.

“I want you”, you gasped, pulling at his shirt, desperate. “Now, Hyunjin… please”.

He kissed you harder then, wild and open mouthed, pulling away only long enough to strip the shirt from his body, then from yours. Finally allowing your skins to meet, bare and burning, heat radiating off both of you.

Hyunjin reached for his waistband, then paused, eyes searching one last time, “If you want me to stop, say it now cause once I’m in… I don’t think I can go back”

“Don’t you dare stopping”.

He smiled crooked and hungry, then pushed his hips against yours, the press of him finally settling between your thighs. You both groaned at the raw contact, bodies already shaking with pleasure. When he entered you, it was slow and deep and intense.

“Fuck”, he rasped, burying his face in your neck, “You feel like heaven”.

You clung to him, nails dragging down his back, legs tightening around his waist “Move”, you begged, voice breaking,  “Please, move”.  

He did.  

Each thrust was slow at first, measured, as if he wanted to savor the feel of you, the sound of your breath, the way you gasped his name every time he hit just right. But it didn’t stay slow for long. The heat, the sweat, the way you kept pulling him closer, it all built into something rougher, messier, desperate.  

The couch shifted beneath you. Your bodies moved rhythmically, heat slicking your skin, breath catching in the thick air, mouths parting only to find each other again.

"Thirty hours” he growled, slamming into you harder. The slap of skin on skin echoed in the humid air, “I could do this for thirty hours straight”

“Then don’t stop”, you begged again, wrapping yourself around him completely, “Don’t stop. Ever”. 

And stopping wasn't on his plans.

 You could barely breathe at this point. Every thrust sent you higher, every drag of his hips made the knot in your stomach tighter. Endlessly tighter.

“I’m close”, you gasped as your body burned with pleasure.

“I know”, his forehead was pressed to your, and his body was trembling.

His hand slipped between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, circling, stroking, pushing you closer to the edge. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you”.

And when you did, your body tensed, your back arched, and your mouth fell open in a silent cry as pleasure crashed over you, hot and maddening. The heat swallowed you whole, thighs shaking around him as you shattered beneath him, around him.

Hyunjin wasn’t far behind. The way you clenched around him, the way your body pulsed with pleasure, it sent him spiraling.

“Damn, Yn…”, his voice broke as he buried himself deep, his body shuddering as he lost himself in you completely.

His breath stuttered against your neck, his grip on your hips tightening before finally, finally, he collapsed against your body, shaking, completely done.

Hyunjin let out a breathless, exhausted laugh, rolling onto his side and pulling you with him, keeping you close. His fingers traced slow, lazy circles against your sweaty skin.

“Think that was at least two hours”, he murmured, “Only twenty eight to go”.

You let out a tired laugh, tucking yourself against his chest, letting the heat of him lull you into something soft and drowsy.

“We’ll see if you last that long”, you teased, voice heavy with exhaustion.

Hyunjin only smiled, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, voice full of mischief, “That sounds like a challenge”.

And with that, you had a feeling the night was far from over.

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

The morning sun painted orange stripes across Hyunjin’s bare back. He was sprawled out on the couch, one arm dangling off the side, the sheets barely covering him. His lips were slightly parted, and his breathing was peaceful, heavy with sleep. Last night was… kind of intense. After round after round, it was no surprise he was that exhausted.

You sat on the floor nearby, knees pulled to your chest, sipping from your hot mug of coffee. It was still early, and the house was quiet, save for the occasional hum of traffic outside and the soft clink of your spoon against ceramic. You couldn't stop looking at him.

Maybe it was the way the light kissed the curve of his shoulder, or the fact that his presence somehow filled the whole room even while unconscious. He looked so far from the Hyunjin who popped his hips in front of the crowd last night,and yet, still entirely himself.

You reached for his camera and carefully turned it on. The shutter clicked softly as you framed him in the morning light, capturing the vulnerable stillness he never let the world see. Then, he moved. You held your breath as he blinked slowly awake, lashes fluttering, eyes squinting against the sun.

“...Are you taking pictures of me?”, he mumbled, voice thick with sleep yet still adorably.

You smiled into your mug, “Someone’s gotta return the favor, don’t you think?”.

He rubbed at his eye, pouting slightly,  “That’s not fair. I probably look like a mess��.

You tilted your head, lifting the camera again, “You look too beautiful not to be photographed”

That earned a sleepy chuckle from him, followed by a mischievous grin that made your chest feel too full.

“I think… you might be the most dangerous person I’ve ever met. You keep making me fall for you over and over”, he murmured, stretching with a soft groan before letting his arm fall over his face dramatically.

You leaned in, pressing a light kiss to the corner of his lips, “Get up, pretty boy. I’m taking you out”

“Where to?”, he asked, still not moving.

“You’ll see. And put on a shirt this time unless you want more photos like these”.

He peeked at you through his fingers, playful. “Maybe I do”.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. You were already falling— fast and sweet and deep. And from the way he looked at you, you believed in his words when he said he was too.

You took him somewhere quieter this time, away from the crowds and noise. A place you loved as a kid, tucked behind winding roads and thick greenery. The kind of spot only locals knew about— a hidden waterfall.

You watched his eyes light up as you guided him through the forest path, hand in hand, laughter echoing between trees. When the water came into view, cascading down smooth rocks into a natural pool, he stopped in his tracks.

“This is… wow!”, he stepped closer, “It doesn’t even look real”.

You kicked off your shoes and dived in first, the cool water wrapping around your ankles.

“Come on, city boy. It’s even better when you come in”.

He followed, splashing in beside you, both of you soaked and breathless in seconds. He tossed his head back and let the water hit his skin, smiling wide like a child.

Later, you sat together on a sun warmed rock later, legs dangling in the water. He had his camera again— a  polaroid this time— pointing it at you.

“Don’t move”, he whispered. The click of the shutter was followed by a brief silence before you broke it.

“What are you thinking?”, you asked.

He hesitated, his gaze fixed on your face like he was memorizing it, “That I wish time would stop right here”.

You smiled gently and leaned your head on his shoulder, “Me too, Hyun. Me too”.

Hours later, you were browsing the little vendor cart set up near the edge of the beach with strings of colorful handmade bracelets swaying in the breeze. Your fingers stopped on a pair of tiny cowrie shells.

Hyunjin leaned in beside you, eyes twinkling, “Matching ones?”, he asked, already reaching for the other.

You grinned, “Only if you’re the one to tie mine”

“Of course, baby”.

You held out your wrist, and he took it carefully in both hands, the shells clicking softly as he looped the string around. He was so gentle, like he was afraid of hurting you, and so focused, brows furrowed in adorable concentration.

“Perfect. I tied it like it was meant to stay forever”, he whispered when he tied the final knot.

Then, as if to seal it, he pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist.

You blinked at him, heat blooming in your cheeks, “You’re really leaning into the romance, huh?”

“I can’t help it” he said, slipping his own bracelet on, “You bring it out of me”.

Just then, a small group of teenagers wandered by, fresh from the ocean and still dripping water onto the pavement. One of them gasped, whispering something to her friend and then, with a little push from her friend, she stepped forward shyly.

“Licença… are you Hyunjin from Stray Kids??”. 

Your brows furrowed as two girls stood up, eyes wide, walking toward you both.

“Can we get a picture with you?”, one asked, holding out her phone.

Hyunjin let out a soft, nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hum, sure... yeah.”

You stood there, confused, watching him pose and smile politely for the photos. They thanked him and walked off, still whispering and giggling.

You turned to him, eyebrows lifted in disbelief, “Okay… what was that?”.

Hyunjin looked down for a moment, then back at you with a sheepish expression. The breeze ruffled his loose clothes, and he scratched the back of his neck like he was trying to buy time.

“I was going to tell you”, he started, voice softer now, “Eventually”.

You raised a brow, “Tell me what? Are you in a famous dance group in Korea or something?”

He took a deep breath, “I’m an idol. A singer. In Korea. I’m in a group called Stray Kids”.

You blinked, “Like… famous famous?”.

He winced, chuckling nervously. “Yeah. Kind of”.

You stared at him, speechless, as he kept going, his words fast and honest, tumbling out like he’d rehearsed them in his head a dozen times.

“I came to Brazil for a break. I was burned out, tired of being ‘Hyunjin the idol’ all the time. I just needed to breathe, you know? I didn’t plan on meeting anyone, and I definitely didn’t expect you. But when I saw you... Damn, you were everything. You are everything I’ve been looking for. And you were just so you. Funny and confident and real. I didn’t want to ruin that by bringing in everything that comes with my name”.

You stayed quiet for a beat, watching him. Observing the nervous look in his eyes, the way he fidgeted with his fingers, waiting for you to react.

Finally, you stepped a little closer and said, with a faint smile, “Okay. Thank you for telling me”.

He blinked, startled, “You’re not mad?”.

You shook your head. “No. I get it. I mean, I don’t know what that kind of life is like, but I understand needing to breathe. And I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell the truth”

A moment passed, and then you poked him gently in the chest, “But don’t start acting famous now”.

That made him laugh, relief rushing through his features, “I could never”.

You rolled your eyes playfully, "You’re still the guy who thought cachaça was water and nearly cried drinking it”.

He laughed, loud and spontaneous as always, “God, I’m so lucky to have you”.

You smiled shyly before reaching for his hand, “Let’s go, I still have a lot to show you”.

And without any hesitation, he followed.

Later that afternoon, as the sun dipped lower over Leme Beach, the sound of laughter and a bouncing ball caught Hyunjin’s attention. A group of locals had formed a loose circle on the sand, keeping a small soccer ball in the air using only their feet, thighs, and heads.

You noticed him staring, so you poked his arm, “That’s altinha. Wanna try?”.

He looked intrigued, “A- Al… altinha?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of like juggling, no hands allowed. Think you can handle playing against the locals?”.

He scoffed, “They are kids”.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “They are good. I wouldn't be surprised if they beat your ass, Mr. Adult”.

That was the challenge he needed. Grinning, Hyunjin jogged over barefoot, and with a few gestures and smiles, was welcomed  into the circle.

At first, he fumbled a bit. His timing kinda off, the ball escaping his reach, but soon his body adjusted, and his natural coordination kicked in.

You watched from the sidelines as he kicked the ball up with ease, laughing with the locals like he belonged there. His clothes were tousled by the wind, skin glowing golden in the sun, and he looked so at peace— playful and so genuinely himself.

You even cheered after a particularly impressive save with his chest.

Hyunjin turned to you, flushed and breathless, radiating happiness like a kid, “I’m officially good at this game. Definitely gonna play it with my friends in Korea”.

You laughed, cupping your hands around your mouth, trying to ignore the fact that one day, he was going to leave you.

“You better not get recruited for a team and forget about me”.

He winked before leaning in to peek your lips, “Never, baby”.

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

Weeks later:

 The airport felt colder than it should. Maybe it was the artificial lighting, or just the air, or the fact that your heart was being tugged in directions you didn’t know how to handle.

Hyunjin stood in front of you, passport in hand, hoodie drawn up to hide his face from the world but not from you. Not today— or ever.

“This is for you”, you said softly, pulling something from your bag.

It was a polaroid, the one he'd taken of you at the waterfall with the sun in your eyes and body dripping wet.

Hyunjin took it carefully, like it might fall apart in his hands.

His eyes lingered on it before they lifted to yours, “I can’t believe it’s been a month”

“I still can’t believe you hip thrusted during samba. That’s not a thing, Hyunjin”, you teased, trying to lighten the moment, even though your throat felt tight.

He chuckled, but the sound was low and sad, “I don’t want to go"

“I know”, you whispered, “I don’t want you to go either”.

You kissed him then— soft and slow. A kiss full of all the things you couldn’t say out loud without breaking.

When you pulled back, he touched your cheek, gaze locked with yours, “I’m going to call. And text. Every day. I mean it”, he said.

You nodded, trying to keep it cool, “You better. Or I’ll come to Korea and haunt you”.

He laughed, but there was a glint in his eyes, charged with raw emotions.

“And I’ll still be in love with you. Even if we are miles apart, okay?”, he added, voice just above a whisper.

You looked down, smiling sadly, “Yeah, I know” you said, “Me too”.

Then, just before the final boarding call echoed through the terminal, he reached out his pinky finger toward you, “Promete?”, he asked softly.

You stared at it for a moment, your lips trembling before curling into a smile.

Slowly, you raised your own pinky and wrapped it around his, “Prometo”.

You stayed like that for a breath longer, fingers interlaced in a promise that felt stronger than anything either of you could say. And when he finally walked toward the gate, his figure getting smaller with every step, you didn’t cry.

Because somehow, you knew he wasn’t really gone.

A part of him belonged to Brazil now.

And that part… was you.

I really want to write a part 2 or some epilogue idk, so wait on me 🫶🏻

Taglist: @hyyunjinnn , @jehhskz , @mbioooo0000 , @nightmarenyxx , @rozsdascsaptelep , @thatonegirlonhere , @notmedina127, @sweetlifeofjoy , @jeonginsleftcheek , @yelhsaa , @my-neurodivergent-world , @hyunles , @lexlikesbts , @imagine-all-the-imagines , @mysterysold , @teenagepeterpan , @hangonhyunjin

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

[sakrafka]

I love your art so much, it inspires me to draw in my own style that isn't influenced by other popular styles typically liked. I love how you use vibrant colors, and the silhouettes of the critters you make are so fun. I also only got Tumblr so I could view all the art you post. 🤭❤️ But, I just wanted to ask how you developed your art style, if you had any influences growing up, and generally how it came to be. THANK YOU‼️‼️

Thank you so much for the kind message :DD I really appreciate you!! Multiple people have asked me this before so I'll try giving a more detailed answer!

I have been drawing ever since I could hold a pencil, I'm autistic and drawing has always been my "safe-space" and the only thing that really relaxes me! I think my main inspirations that affected my style the most were the Dragonology books, I had them when I was little and I was obsessed. I kept tracing over all the art and mimicking the style (around 8-10 years old). Petson and Findus is another one! I first started sharing my art and seeing online artist at the age of 17; I made a Deviantart and I really loved Z-doodler and Picolo-kun (I think those were their names?). I'm also obsessed with Károly Reich, I grew up on books illustrated by him! These things specifically don't really inspire my art anymore, but the basic foundation of it was, I think, built on these styles!

Then, for some reason I got obsessed with trying to develop an art style that is unique to only me, as much as that's possible. I regularly sat down, and tried to create new stylistic choices by forcefully thinking of new ways of drawing. I tried to forget everything I know, and come up with new ways to convey something.

I also have an "inspiration folder", with random pieces of art. I sometimes took 4-5 pieces that were my favorite, and tried to adapt little stylistic choices from their art to mine, and combine them. I did this very sparingly, because I don't want my art to look like anyone else's (again, as much as that's possible, since styles overlap and stuff)!

I developed certain characteristics in my art style that I have never seen before, for example the way I shade with these little triangle shapes. This is something that I "came up with" and didn't see anywhere before. They only started appearing a few weeks after I started sharing my art with this shading, and all the people who did it were followers of mine haha (it is completely possible that someone else did this before me as well, though - I'm only saying that this is something that, as far as I know, I came up with!). I'm attaching a screenshot of the shading I'm talking about:

So yeah, I would really love to try and make up new things that are unique to me (again, as much as that is possible), and I don't have any specific inspirations as of right now; the most inspiring things to me are totally random things, like a nice leaf, a song, or anything really! I have that type of imagination, I don't know the name, where I can rotate the apple in full HD 4K and even smell it lmao. So it often happens that random pictures just pop up in my head, completely unprompted, and I often draw these.

Also, I know my current art style is not very unique; this is because in recent years I focused on making my art style a bit more "digestable". I started selling my art, and I became a bit forced to make things that *most* people like. So, it is very hard to balance my will to make an art style that is super unique to me, while also drawing in a way that is nice for most people and easily consumable. But if you srcoll back to the beginning of my blog, you can see more unique pieces where I really tried to experiment!

Here are some artists that I like, aside from the ones I mentioned! (all instagram handles)

esztter_t

sournoodl

artkaisucks

lillaboleczillustration

foliveli

salamispots

clarelewlew

tudi.juli

gyunyuya

clara_winnie_

apple_toast And many more probably!

[shinigamigloss]

shaded beauty

✏ The vista is all sweet and heartwarming and Leon’s resolved to treasure this moment forever. Only he doesn’t have a very good grasp of how to use a camcorder...

cw: nothing but fluff;3 (unless you count the tech-phobic leon) married couple, short af, husband leon will always haunt me 🫩

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Leon holds a little camcorder in his hand. It’s brand new – out of the box less than 48 hours ago – and each of its buttons feels like a bomb set with a cryptic code. He is, however, bound and determined: he needs something for himself beyond work. Gunning down terrorists, hacking through zombies, trashing the government... Sure, that’s all well and good. But the man could do with a niche.

On the beach, his steps oscillate thoughtfully. The California breeze tousles the rich caramel streaks of his hair, and his boots dive into the marshmallow-hue sand. Gunmetal eyes catch your figure dressed in cerulean blue, a gem among the tranquil crystals of the sea.

You – with your shoes off. A fat ice cream in hand. A sunny expression so sweet that even the ocean would blush at someone smiling at her like that.

Inside, Leon thinks: Gotta do it. Let me capture my wife.

Finally, a cinematic delight, an endeavor he might even grow attached to (maybe even become a die-hard fan of!).

He tilts the device. The optical lens flickers at his command. Hold on, hold on! Where’s the button? Whatever – just mash something. Click.

“Say cheeeeese!”

You incline your head a shade further. He’s already watching you, of course. Guilt lies forever frozen in the strata of his irises – buried below zero.

You simply smile back. Striking poses – from dainty to dorky. You even step to the side and brush your hair back like a top model. “Draw me like one of your French girls, Leon.”

Leon’s insides sing; he’s all soft and creamy for you. He’s no more an agent, not a man in a midlife crisis. Only a man encapsulating absolute happiness.

Many hours later, when the sun paints an orange blood across the horizon, the two of you settle on a bench. Feet matted in granular sand, knees sore, but hearts candied.

“Want to see the pictures I took?” he offers blithely.

You shake your head in assent before you give it a second thought. At your bidding, your husband flips on the screen. In the following delicious tens of seconds, a curious glow settles on both your faces.

“Oh.”

What’s that first picture?

Your hair is completely out of the frame. What about the second one? Bright sun – only an electric blanket of white. Looks like a divine force descending from the heavens.

Then the third one? Half the sea. No sign of you.

Fourth? Leon’s thumb over the lens.

Fifth? At last, you. Smiling... but blurry. A misty grin. Pearly bliss.

You laugh your whole heart out.

“These are amazing!”

Leon stares in blue puzzlement. “Really? They’re all... uhh. They’re so fuzzy.”

“Aww, what does it matter, honey?”

Leon lowers his head, a tentative grin on his lips as he cradles your hand in his lap.

“Maybe... next time I’ll make a video,” he shrugs. He’s got a reputation to save.

You powder a peck on his cheek.

“But first you have to figure out where the recording button is, Kennedy.”

[snailpebbles]

a day to live

Natalie Scatorccio x fem! reader

summary: Natalie just lost you, her girlfriend, and has to cope somehow! Looney toons type escape from you.

tags: angst then angst then hurt/comfort, some fluff, angst, ow I'm sorry, fucked up sisters, nat loves you sm, conversion camp mentions, religious issues

a/n: read pt.1 first - a night to remember

wc: 2.5k

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

Nat is pissed. Well, at first she was left in that gravel crying her heart out before getting up to chase the car down, but hey...details. Now it's been a month at this fuckass school with these fuckass people in this fuckass town and her girlfriend, the love of her life, is still gone. Shipped off to some damnable, frankly unchristian, camp that believes love in any capacity is false.

Total bullshit.

What's even more bullshit is that your parents act like you never existed! Smiles all around, parties and cookouts, and attending church like they didn't just damn their own kin. So yes, she is pissed and yes, she is crying in the locker room.

"Nat..?" Jackie's apprehensive voice reaches her muted ears and a light touch on her shoulder draws her out. She means well, Nat knows this, but the only touch she wants is yours. That's why she jerks back like she's been shot. Jackie nods acceptingly and creates some space, silently shooing the other worried girls out.

"Practice is starting, okay? You know you can just stay in here if you can't-" Nat cuts her off, inhaling sharply with a forced grin.

"I'm fine Jackie." She mutters shoving past her and regretting it after seeing the frown on her captains face. There's no time for apologies though, not when her anger is mounting and the only out she sees is to play rough. That's probably why Coach Ben sits her out after one play. Now she's pissed and antsy.

A car rolls up, one that sends bolts down her back and blood rushing to her head. The same car that you were shoved into; that took you away from her. Laura Lee steps out, already stammering an apology for being late as her parents drive off without so much as a glance at Nat.

Time becomes a blur and her ears ring, her sight and memory dipping out until suddenly she's looming over a crying Laura Lee. Her fist throbs where it's tightly balled and Laura Lee's bloody nose stains the turf a satisfying red - the thrumming in her ears quiet. Taissa and Shauna grab her elbows but all she can do is grin, feeling like some righteous figure - you'd be proud, she knows it. Even if its your sister she left on the floor to be comforted by Misty and Jackie.

She blinks and now she's in the counselors office, one sympathetic look going to Laura Lee and disdain to her. It's funny in her eyes.

"Natalie," Oh here we go "why did you punch Laura Lee?" Ms. Drews voice is like nails on a chalkboard. Nat's fist clenches and she glances at your sister. At least the girl has the decency to look oh so apologetic and like absolute shit. Your sisters eyes are sunken in and look red, the eyebags a deep purple and her skin pale. The pitiful sight doesn't change Nat's heart though, not when she's sure you're being put through so much worse.

"I guess I'm just jealous that she's a natural blonde." Nat drawls, slouching in the plush chair like it's her office. Her heart gives a twist when she remembers that you would've loved seeing her sit like this, claiming it's "hot shit". Ms. Drews sighs tiredly, well acquainted with Nat's bullshit.

"It's my fault Ms. Drews." Laura Lee whispers, her voice wavering and scratchy from old tears. "I was uhm, I was being mean." Nat snorts - she can't help it. Laura Lee? Mean? The world must have ended then. When she starts to laugh, she stops. No, Laura Lee was mean; you're gone because of her big fucking mouth.

The chair screeches back before Nat can think and she's storming out, ignoring the calls from Ms. Drew to return. It's all bullshit, every last bit. Tears sting her eyes are she pushes into the empty locker room to change, your picture staring back at her from within her locker. You look so pretty; the Sun highlighting every aspect of you that she loves so dearly. The tears fall and her eyeliner goes with them, leaving black streaks down her face that she decidedly ignores as she walks home.

It's an hour later when she collapses into her bed, pressing her nose into a blanket you'd left there a long time ago. It had lost it's smell a few days back but Natalie went to the store and spent all of her allowance to buy your perfume. It's like a new vice for her; smelling your perfume whenever she can until her nose burns alongside her throat. The alcohol tastes like utter shit but she drowns in it anyways, just as she believes she will for the rest of her life.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

You're in deep shit. It was maybe two weeks into that fuckass camp that you decided to make a break for it, pulling some looney toons type shit to get out. Maybe those sleepless nights of praying for anyone to love you, for Him to love you, paid off. Your throat hurts from being forced to vomit and your memory blurs with honestly disgusting videos - yeah, you need to forget.

The back of some random pick up truck isn't the most comfortable but the driver is kind. She let you hitch a ride after walking for who knows how long so really you can't complain. Does it smell like farm animals? Yes. Is the smell of sheep butt kinda growing on you? No comment. The only comfort you can find is thinking of Nat. How her lips felt on yours and the way her voice carried to your ears. Tears fall - at the same time as hers, unknowingly to you - at the sickness stirring in your stomach. It was in your belief that one week wouldn't be enough to fuck you up, but alas.

None of that matters anyways because you're here; minus the two hour walk into town that awaits you. The Sun has yet to rise but the kind driver gives you a jacket to wear over whatever the fuck the dress you have on is. White cotton down to your ankles and wrists - all that conservative bullshit. It isn't fully white anymore. Some sprinting through the woods and hiding in a fucking lake will do that to someone.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

Natalie is disoriented, the loud knocking at her trailer door leaving her hungover brain reeling. She stumbles her way to the front and rips the door open, prepared to curse out whoever it is.

"Nat?" It's a soft voice, an oh so tired and wounded voice. The same voice she played in her dreams and sobbed over every night. The same she'd hear "I love you" from. She sobers up so fucking fast it's almost ridiculous. One minute you're outside and the next you're inside, her shaking hands gripping your biceps so tight it might bruise.

"What the fuck- how the fuck-" The tears spill again and her voice is rough, catching and tripping over itself until her heart teeters away from stopping. "Angel." She breathes it out like a prayer and you're gone, sobbing into her neck like she does to your hair. The smell, the dirt, the ugly crying - none of it matters. Not when you're in her arms and blubbering sweet everything's. Nat cups your cheeks and wipes your tears, worried eyes checking you over for any blood or bruise. Your knuckles are busted just like hers. She kisses them and you do the same.

"I missed you." You whisper, using the sleeves of your dress to wipe her tears and eyeliner away. She laughs wetly and nods, leaning her head into your hand.

"I missed you too. Fuck, are you okay?" She asks and you nod, any cut or scrape from your mad escape fleeing your mind. All that matters is her. The smell of cigarettes, alcohol, cheap perfume, and her shampoo. You could wrap yourself up in it and die happily right now.

"Do you want a shower?" Nat then leads you into the cramped bathroom after your whispered yes, the overhead light buzzing when she flicks the switch. It's the first time you've seen yourself in awhile, having been in and out of rest stops with nothing on your mind but home. She turns the water on and undoes the buttons down the back of your dress, rough fingers so gentle on your blessed skin. It's reverent, the way she eyes you. No sign of lust but only love.

The water is hot, washing away false sins as she climbs in with you. There's bile building in your throat and she holds you hair back when you vomit into the toilet, crying apologies as she pets your now wet hair.

"Thought it wouldn't work." You sniffle and her heart breaks, fear and anger tracing up her spine. Nat knows you love her, she can feel it in your hands and the way your lips map her skin all over again. It still doesn't change the fact that you're sick and it will take time to reverse what they did. All in the name of someone who never would have allowed those places to exist.

"It's okay Angel, it's okay. You're okay, we're okay." Nat whispers, pulling you into her arms before washing you off until you're reborn. The light buzzes and the water grows cold but you don't drift away, not like she fears. Vomit is flushed again but Nat only rubs your back and comforts you, no sign of impatience.

Her bed and clothes are warm as you cuddle into one another, hair and tears wetting her pillow. She doesn't ask and you're so grateful, throat still stinging.

"I love you." You both say it at the same time and giggle, noses bumping one another with how close you are. Her arm is tight around your waist and you cradle her cheek, face feeling warm under her intense watch. She's memorizing you, drinking you in as if you're holy water in a hellish place.

You make the first move to kiss her, having to breathe through the sick feeling you get; twisting in your stomach and aching in your heart. Something whispers no but He whispers yes, and then the gap is gone.

Natalie is sure you're her salvation. Your lips are warm against hers, it's all so warm. The door is locked and outside is silent. No crunch of gravel or the squealing of tires. It's just you and her in a self-made heaven, basking in love.

Laura Lee and the rest can wait for tomorrow. Nat's mom is out on some bender and she'll keep you safe - the grip on your waist confirms it. Kisses trail across your cheek and jaw, bleached hair tickling your clean skin until you're giggling with her. Hearts sync up once more and it stays peaceful, the future not looming but glowing instead.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

It's two weeks later and finally that fucking tomorrow. A lot of legal bullshit is going down but for now, you're living with your aunt who you were taught was a piece of shit - she's actually just a he. Your uncle, as you've now learned, stayed in Wisayok on the other side of town purely to loom over your parents with the threat of exposing them to the church. He knew they'd sent you off and had been fighting tooth and nail to get you into his care for a month now.

All is fine and dandy; Nat and you laze about your new, nicer, home and relearn each other. You throw up a lot less now and your uncle, Tim, pays for therapy to help really get past it all. You don't plan on ever saying what really happened in those small buildings so Nat doesn't pry, instead she kisses away the late night tears and holds your hair out of your face when it's all too much.

What isn't cool is having to go back to school. The same school your sister attends. You're a nervous wreck as you step off the bus, Nat keeping ahold of you.

"Breathe, Angel." She whispers and you listen, staying by her side throughout the morning and totally not flinching whenever a flash of blonde hair goes off in your peripherals. Luck cannot hold out forever though, and even has terrible timing.

It is entirely impossible to prove what exactly the two of you were doing behind the bleachers, but the mussed hair and marks on both of your necks may give some evidence. The giggles and little stolen kisses come to an abrupt halt at the sight of your sister. She's tearing up and your heart aches in two different directions.

"Oh fuck off Laura Lee." Natalie groans, arm going across your shoulders in what may look possessive but is actually meant to ground you. Laura Lee sniffles and gives you an extremely apologetic stare, but you aren't having it.

"I told you what would happen." You mutter, staring her down without an ounce of sympathy. She shakes her head but seems unable to even mumble an apology, the tears clogging her throat. That damn bear is in her hand and she holds it out to you, shaking hands matching your own. You can see the faint scar on her pointer finger from where you'd accidentally slammed the door on it. Her necklace was a gift from you and her cardigan was knitted to match your own, growing dusty in a closet that isn't yours anymore. The bear is knocked to the ground by your hand, newly scarred across the knuckles from a ruler Laura Lee will never meet.

"Please-" Her voice breaks and Nat laces her hand in yours, thumb rubbing across the scarred knuckles and head tilting to knock against yours. She's all around you and Laura Lee is drifting away, button eyes watching the two sisters from the gym floor.

"We're not sisters. Not anymore." Your voice breaks just like hers did, and you step away again - just like that night. Nat is there, anchoring you all the way until you're in some bathroom.

"Angel, hey-" She cradles your jaw and kisses your forehead, wiping away the faint lipstick mark. "You're good." She murmurs and you nod, blinking away tears with a slow exhale.

"I'm good. We're good." You repeat, dropping your forehead to her shoulder. "It's all good." Fingers guide your head up and your lips meet hers - warm, safe, familiar. No bile rises and your heart doesn't ache; it sings.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

tag list: @theprismyyy @moonyxstars @kabekusa @ilovemuhl10

[sananaryon]

The Journal of Luz Clawthorne Noceda, documenting the Frogvasion of the Boiling Isles.

I.e. I finally got around to making some art of my own for my edgy owlphibia au, specifically as told from Luz's very flawed and unreliable point of view. Feel free to ask me about details of the AU because I love talking!

Text and image description under the cut.

Image description: Four pictures of illustrated journal pages, each with one or two illustrations done in watercolour and ink.

The first page has watercolour and ink drawing of the Titan's skull from The Owl House, with the sky, clouds, and the moon in the background. The archive house, resembling a crown, is hanging aroudn the right side of the skull with a piece broken off. Above the skull, the castle from Amphibia is floating surrounded by smaller shapes too small to make out. Parts of the skull and land around it is smoking. On the right side of the page is a symbol resembling a frog's foot done in bronze ink, with the label "Empire's sigil?"

Text:

3 N.E.

36. abruary.

1 month after Frogvasion

Journal of Luz Clawthorne Noceda. It's been one month since the start of frogvasion (Bailey says that's a stupid name but she got her name from an old science-fiction book so she doesn't get a vote,) and I am writing this in our new resistance HQ (Hooty play Empire Strikes Back) at King's island.

I have decided to write this record of events [text is struck out]because auntie Lilith forced me [struck out text ends, next sentence is written in cursive] for the sake of future historians and to give the view of someone living through historical events. [cursive ends]

So, to recap: One month ago on the 3-year anniversary of Belos getting his ass kicked for good, a giant floating castle with an army of frog-shaped robots and warships popped out of thin air (or from a giant rainbow portal). Then a lady in a dress showed up in the middle of the party and gave an alien invasion speech about us joining the Empire of Calamity [frog foot symbol is drawn here]. So Raine (Lord High Prince) (that's witch prime minister) went to talk to her but then she did some mind control shit and we got them the heck out of there.

And now an army of frog robots (Frobots) are conquering the isles led by some crazy powerful fire god!!! I should probably explain her, huh?

Signed: Luz C. Noceda & Lilith Clawthorne.

[text ends]

The second page has a watercolour painting done entirely in blue and white, depicting a woman in silhouette with glowing white eyes. She has an afro and is wearing a dress and making a pose with one hand to her chest and one out to the side, and there is a halo above her head. Next to her is text saying "Looks human. Probably isn't."

Further down on the page is watercolour and ink drawing depicting an indistinct red figure kneeling to the blue figure from before, this time with her skin and hair coloured brown. Next to the red figure is the text "WTF?" with an arrow pointing to the figure, and next to the blue lady is text saying "Blue all over" "Glowy eyes" and "She's not that pretty."

Text:

The Blue Princess

(We don't know her name)

The first of the Empire of Calamity Leaders (???) who appeared.

She just appeared in the middle of the victory/anniversary feast and demanded we surrendered to her Emperor (we've had enough of that here, thank you). Lord Prince raine stepped up to talk to her, but it took like 5 seconds before they were kneeling. Sorry lady, we know what mind control looks like and we're not falling for it. [the "for it" is slightly smudged] woops.

Weirdly, Raine says they never felt a compulsion to kneel, and that it was more like the first time they met Belos - that this person is important and should be bowed to. I don't get how that's different but they say they also remember thinking she was the most beautiful person they've seen, so maybe it's a charm? Raine has snapped out of it, so it doesn't last long.

The princess hasn't appeared since then so she might not be a fighter, but Lilith is making potions of anti charm with B's moms, just in case.

signed: Luz C. Noceda.

Powers: Mind control

Weaknesses: Not a figher (???)

suspected

[text ends]

The third page has a watercolour painting of a dark silhouette with one arm raised surrounded by red flames. Above their head is an orb of white made up of lines curling in on themselves.

Next to the main painting is a watercolour and ink drawing of three figures. One is an indistinct man in purple with a topknot and cape, one is an indistinct green lady with palm-like hair, and one is the same figure from before. The former two are shooting abomination goop and vines towards the latter.

Text:

The Red General

(no name either)

The leader of the Empire's army. Since the start of Frogvasion, they've been leading that army of frogbots from city to city, ordering surrender and burning and pillaging when not met with compliance. They always wear that armor, so no idea what they look like. We just call them the Red General.

(Boscha wants me to write that she calls them "that red psycho." I said that's not very nice to people with psychosis and she said "eat my ass" so I said maybe later.)

They showed up first when we were evacuating the Council House (former Archive House) cuz a floating castle had started floating above it. And when I say "showed up" I mean cracked an entire wing while burning like a meteor.

Darius and Terra (she got out on probation) tried to hold them of while we evacuated, but...

I know plants can burn, I never thought I'd see abomination goop boil.

Darius is at the other base, recovering, but [text struck out and indistinct] He'll be fine. Bailey is just worried.

Red hasn't done anything like that again, but we'll be careful

Signed: Luz C. Noceda & Boscha

Boscha stop stop messing up the ink

-L

Make me

-B

I'm telling Lilith

-L

[text ends]

The fourth page is taken up by a watercolour painting depicting a pair of orange and yellow eyes with white pupils surrounded by darkness.

Text

The Emperor

Emperor of Numberless Worlds

The princess mentioned them. We know nothing

Boscha made dark chokelate and spilled all over this page.

-L

[text ends]

[magic-worms]

so like i did not expect at all for my tf2 baboon post to get so popular or to see a ton of new followers from it. but that’s what happened. i can’t believe you guys like isa so much

you like her?? my little baby monkey?? my seven year old sweet little baby typing monkey??? well you’re in luck because i like her too and i haven’t been able to stop drawing her. here’s some family doodles

+ a couple scoutlings ^_^

[valentimmy]

I added color to it look at them

[arielluva]

look within

[casualshrimp-but-undertale]

heheheehheheeh them

i did my research, they are all giving things that are common offerings to dionysus:

code is giving him honey, deuce is giving him grapes and track, ivy

sooooo yeah i got permission to draw them and so i did just that (i swear, it was supposed to be simpler at first, i’m sorry (for the record, procreate says this has a total of 11k+ strokes lol) but it’s ok, what wouldn’t I do for a bunch of gay skeletons )

quick doodle under the cut u-u

they’re so silly to me

code belongs to @callmeherry

track belongs to @ken-tfc

deuce belongs to @gutsroses

dionysus belongs to @javaxzun

[lies-of-fox]

I hope it's fine to see Sir Carlo like this 😏

Reference meme and details under the cut-

[chiropteracupola]

Make me a boat of elm and I’ll row myself to sea / Soon I’d miss the anchor that never let me leave / Thinking on my darling, lonesome at the helm / Oh, make me a boat of elm, a boat of elm...

my half of an art trade with the amazing @emilybeemartin — here's Colm, from her trilogy Creatures of Light! ...from longstanding tradition, we know full well that I will always be found drawing the most melancholic boatsguy you have on hand.

[dozzerxb]

fem leopika wedding

[zincfingermotif]

spoiled brat

[tainebot01]

Magical Girls >:D

And a surprise sighting of the rare and elusive creature known as Hugh O’ the Conner, who seems to be running rather late for archery practice…

[w1f1n1ghtm4r3]

anhane week day 2 (seasons) - filling in a photo album of memories