#I had a cool idea for this and it worked!

[ahqkas]

♯ARTSY HANDS AND MINDS ( how would the batboys react to you making your own merch of their alter ego ! )

— gn!reader, bruce & dick & jason — separated, fluff, established relationship, not edited, cursing, bases on this req.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . BRUCE WAYNE !

WHEN BRUCE UNLOCKED AND PUSHED the front door of your apartment open, the familiar scent of one of your candles immediately greeted him with warmth and the familiarity of home. he was finally home, with you. it had been a long night, after all, a long night of patrols and late emergency meetings at wayne enterprises. all he wanted was a quiet evening with you, a thing that finally came to him.

the sound of soft humming came from somewhere in the apartment, probably from your living room, much to bruce’s detective skills. he couldn’t help but let a gentle smile grace his face upon the sound as he hung his coat. you always seemed to brighten even the darkest of his days.

but as he rounded the corner to the living space, his smile froze.

there you were, the love of his life, sitting cross-legged on the old, beaten couch ( which bruce insisted on replacing but you didn’t let that happen, something about an emotional bond ) with a black hoodie spread across your lap. a large symbol graced its chest area. the bat-symbol, he realized. smalls jars of fabric paint surrounded your sitting form, and you were holding a delicate brush, adding details to your own craftwork.

bruce was caught of guard.

“bruce!” you gasped his name out when he came into the clear sight, startled. you even nearly dipped the brush in the wrong direction which would mess up with the project you were currently working on. a flush of warmth creeped up your neck. “you’re home early. i thought you’d be at the office for a while.” not that you minded.

“i finished up early,” he hummed and gestured towards the hoodie in your lap. the sight of the symbol, his symbol, stirred something deep within him. “what’s that?”

“oh, this?” your hands awkwardly hovered over the clothing. “it’s nothing, really. just a little project i’m working on.”

your man raised one eyebrow at your dismissal. “that’s quite detailed for ‘nothing’, sweetheart.”

you gave in after a second of thinking, saying to yourself it definitely wasn’t for the petname or the gentle command in his tone. “fine. you caught me. i’m making my own batman hoodie. but before you say anything, let me explain.”

“i’m listening.”

“well, i’ve been a fan of batman for a while now,” you began, eyes watching his face for every kind of a reaction. “not like one of those die-hard fans who camp outside at night trying to take pics of him or anything. just . . . i admire what he does for gotham. he’s a symbol of hope, you know. it’s nice to have someone who actually fights for the city.”

bruce felt a lump form in the back of his throat. you admired both bruce wayne, the gotham’s billionaire darling, and batman, a side of him that came out when the sun went down.

“and,” you continued, “i wanted a hoodie with the bat-symbol because it looks cool, but the official ones are ugly. they’re all this stiff fabric that itches with weirdly placed logos. i wanted something more casual. so, i thought, why not just make one myself?”

his heart skipped a beat once you finished your mini rant, the muscle tightening against the bones of his ribs. you had no idea you were speaking to batman himself, yet your admiration was pure and genuine. it reminded him why he wore the cowl in the first place — to protect people like you, who believed in a better gotham.

“well,” he said after a moment of just looking at you with that special look in the depths of his gaze. “if batman knew how much effort you put into this, he’d flattered.”

“you think so?”

“i know so.”

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

THE LINGERING ACHE IN HIS MUSCLES FROM THE ROOFTOP CHASE he had barely managed to win stained his sore body as he returned from a long night of patrol back home to you. his footsteps were silent, practiced from the countless times he’s done this, when he unlocked the front door to the apartment he shared with you. the lights were still on, spilling the warm light from the living room into the hall.

dick smiled to himself. you always waited up for him, no matter how late he came home from “work”, and it never failed to warm his heart.

to find someone who would do such thing as cut their sleep schedule for him was basically rare, but he managed to.

you were sitting cross-legged on the beloved couch dick himself chose, completely absorbed in your task. the couch has lived its fair share already, but it was well loved and had so many good memories, so you kept it. your boyfriend watched from the doorway as your brows created that adorable little v between them, furrowing in concentration. meanwhile, your hands worked carefully with blue and black yarn. your fingers clutched the unmistakable nightwing plush; complete with the signature blue symbol across its little chest.

you don’t actually know about nightwing. well, you know about his existence, about how the vigilante keeps blüdhaven’s streets safe from criminal activities, and you knew about the package beneath the tight spandex of his suit. what you didn’t know was nightwing’s true identity. you didn’t know how he always made sure to come back home to you, and you totally didn’t know that ass belonged to you.

“uhh . . .” he was caught of guard for a second here. “what are you doing?”

jumping slightly at the sound of his voice, you clutched the half-finished plush close to your chest as if protecting it from his praying eyes. “dick!” your face flushed with embarrassment. “you’re home early.”

he arched an eyebrow at your behavior, his gaze averting towards the digital clock of the tv before it shifted back to you. “it’s almost two in the morning. sooo . . . are you going to explain why you’re making a mini nightwing doll this late at night?”

“first of all, it’s not a doll. it’s a plushie.”

“of course, my bad. plushie.”

“and second,” you started to defend your actions more confidently when you noticed the slightest of smirk gracing his face. he looked tired, the strands of his bangs slightly damp with sweat and his eyes nearly dropping down with how the exhaustion pressed on him. yet he still managed to be all cheeky. “it’s not like i’m obsessed or something. i just — the fan-made ones were too expensive, and honestly none of them were cute enough, so i decided to make my own.”

dick stepped closer to your sitting form, fidgeting with his hands to hide his racing heart. “you’re a nightwing fan?”

you shrugged and started picking at a stray thread on the plushie. “i mean, yeah. who isn’t? he’s cool, and he’s probably the least terrifying out of all the vigilantes in both gotham and blüdhaven. plus,” you paused in the little rant he’d coaxed out of you. “i think he’s kinda hot.”

a loud cough interrupted you the moment those last words slipped past your lips. dick’s ears took on a pink hint, along with a more pronounced smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. the tired look in his eyes was suddenly long gone, too. “you’re a think he’s hot, baby?”

“yeah. it’s not like he’ll know i said that, though.”

oh, you had no idea.

“it’s not perfect,” you shaked the plush in your hands to make a point, “but i wanted it to look right. and i know it’s probably silly, but it makes me feel safe, in a weird way. like, if i ever needed help, he’d show up, you know?”

dick wanted to tell you the truth then and there — that nightwing would show up for you, every single time, because you were his main priority. nothing else mattered but your safety. but he couldn’t. not yet.

his fingers brushed yours instead, tracing the fabric of the yarn with a gentle touch. “i think it’s perfect. and if nightwing ever saw it, i’m sure he would be flattered.”

“yeah, right,” you laughed, actually laughed, and rolled your eyes in that way he adored. “like he’d care about some random plushie.”

he didn’t argue, though a part of him was already planning on leaving a little thank you! note the next time he patrolled near your apartment. for now, he could settle for leaning against your side and pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

. . . JASON TODD !

JASON HAD BEEN IN A RUSH TO GET HOME. the heels of his boots crunched on the gravel beneath him before he shrugged his leather jacket and unlocked the front door to your apartment. tonight’s patrol had been rough — more bullets than he’d planned for and a few bruises he would have to hide later. all he wanted now was to crash on the couch with you, maybe with a shitty movie and some pizza if you hadn’t eaten yet.

he took a step inside, already feeling the tension and ache erasing from his muscles as the familiar warmth of the living space wrapped around him like a blanket. he was finally home.

but when he crossed the threshold into the living room, jason froze right on the spot.

there you were, curled up on the couch, wearing a black hoodie that looked far too big on your frame with a hand-painted crimson symbol on the chest. not just any symbol though — it was his symbol. the red hood insignia stood out vividly against the dark fabric of the hoodie. he couldn’t miss it even if he was blind.

and that wasn’t all. on the coffee table in front of you was a small knitted plushie. its tiny body was simple, but the details were on spot: a small red helmet and a matching chest symbol that mirrored the one on your own chest.

you weren’t supposed to know about red hood. to certain amount of course. jason couldn’t shield you from the outside no matter how much he would like to, but he could shield you from one of his many personalities — the red hood. you weren’t supposed to know about him being red hood. so, he hoped it was still the truth.

“hey, you’re home!” you must’ve heard him come in because you looked up at him with that sheepish smile he grew to cherish, all while holding up the plush up for inspection.

“yeah . . .” he trained off, scratching the nape of his neck. jason didn’t like lying to you any more than he had to, so making up some shitty excuse about where he was and what was he doing was pretty much pointless. instead, he turned the attention to the creations of your work. the hoodie and plushie. “what’s–uh–what’s this?”

you glanced down at yourself like you’d forgotten what you were wearing. “oh, it’s a red hood merch. well, kind of,” brushing a stray hair off the hoodie, you smiled up at him more confidently. “i made these.”

jason’s brows shot up. “you made them?”

“yeah! the official looked ugly—like who designed that stuff? and the fan-made ones were either way too expensive or just not what i was looking for. so, i figured, why not do it myself? and he’s kind of my favorite vigilante.”

he felt his heart skip a beat. your favorite?

what the fuck. “red hood is your favorite.”

it definitely didn’t sound like a question, it was spoken in way it sounded like a statement, but you answered him with a reason anyway. “mhm. he’s a badass. a little scary, sure, but in a good way. like, you know he’s got a soft spot somewhere under all the armor. i caught him feeding the stray cat on our fire escape the other day. it was cute.”

well, he wasn’t exactly careful with the cat, but he didn’t expect the meowing and hissing would catch your attention. stubborn stray.

jason blinked, more caught of guard than feeling the edge of panic. he should panic, you were practically close to discovering your careless boyfriend was red hood. he was at a loss of words. “cute” wasn’t exactly how he’d describe himself — or his alter ego — but he wasn’t about to argue with you. instead, his fingers moved to trace the oversized sleeves of your hoodie, calloused fingertips brushing under the fabric to intertwine your fingers in one.

you didn’t know the truth, and maybe you never would, but as long as you felt safe and protected in his arms, he was okay with it. you were holding a piece of him he’d never given to you, and yet you loved him the same.

[mameillieureennemie]

author's note: an idea sprung up in my head where vi and reader are co-workers who hate each other but ACTUALLY—

summary: vi's been a constant pain in your ass for ages; a co-worker who lives to irritate you mercilessly. until things come to a head and a secret is unraveled.

cw: modern day, co-workers, office au, vi x f!reader

"I fucking hate you."

"Oh, that hurts my heart, princess."

"Don't call me that."

"What? Princess?"

Your pen nearly snaps in half due to the death grip you have it in. You're absolutely furious; your rage is a burning force bubbling away at the pit of your stomach. It's hot enough to have your heart racing, thundering loudly in your chest as your blood roars in your ears.

"I swear to god, Violet," you hiss dangerously, your eyes narrowing into thin slits. "Call me that one more time, and I'll strangle you with my bare hands."

Vi raises a brow, frustratingly unaffected. "Promise?" She says, lips curving into a mocking smile, and oh, your vision goes red for a second.

Your mind drifts to all the horrible things you could do to Vi. In graphic detail. And that seems to calm you down, which should be concerning. But you can't afford to get into an all-out fight with her, in the middle of a work day, while your co-workers mill about.

Knowing them, they're just waiting for this to happen. And you can't afford to give them that satisfaction, so you take a deep breath, attempting to cool your system down.

Then you hand over the documents to Vi, emotionless, as you say, "Deal with this."

Vi, noticing that you've tapped out from your usual brawl, eyes you for a second before replying, "Sure thing."

With that, you turn to walk away so you can leave this space. But before you can even make it to the door, Vi's opening her big mouth to say:

"Princess."

It's hard for you not to lose your mind after that.

"Is this going to be a common occurrence?" Mel asks, already tired as she looks between the two of you. "I mean, we already had the fiasco a week ago where you two were yelling at each other in the break room—"

"She started it," you interrupt with a mumble, shying away when Mel aims a warning look your way.

"I don't care who stared it," Mel retorts before leaning back in her chair with a heavy sigh. "I just expect more from my employees. I expect harmonious working relationships, not arguments that turn into screaming matches. If this happens again, there's going to be serious consequences. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Ms Medarda." You and Vi grumble in unison, and you're soon walking out of her office. You immediately start towards your desk, wanting to get far from Vi because your anger has yet to subside. It wasn't your fault that this happened; all Vi had to do was take the documents you handed her, but no, she had to turn it into something else.

And now Mel's got her eye on you, which is the last thing you need and—

"Hey."

That's Vi's voice, calling out to you, and the last thing you want to hear. So you keep striding, hurrying your pace to keep the space between you two. But Vi's fast; she's closing the distance and wrapping a big hand around your arm.

The touch is enough to spike your annoyance a decent amount.

You rip your arm out of her grip, baring teeth as you grit out, "What?"

Vi raises both hands up to show she means no harm. Then she's stuffing them into her pockets, sighing before she says, "Look, I'm sorry."

That throws you through a loop.

"...What?" You ask again, only less hostile and more confused.

"I'm sorry," Vi repeats easily. "I...didn't mean to rile you up so much. It's just..." She struggles for a second. "It's like when you pull on a girl's pigtails because she's cute and annoying the fuck out of her makes her talk to you?"

That throws you through another loop.

You blink a few times, trying to compute what she just said before you go, "You're fucking with me."

Vi huffs a laugh. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," you argue. "Because you can't be telling me that the reason you've been antagonising me is because you think I'm cute."

Vi shrugs, giving a lazy smile. "Yeah, that's exactly it."

You stare at her for a moment, a rush of emotions going through you. Then all you're feeling is a mixture of frustration and amusement.

"What are you? 8?" You retort, unable to think of anything else because so much has been given to you at once. The biggest being that Vi's just kind of admitted to having a crush on you and has been using preschool antics to catch your attention. Regardless of that attention being full-on rage which could have resulted in murder.

"Give me some credit," Vi replies, rolling her eyes. "I'm, at least, 10."

That draws a chuckle from you, soft and short, but a chuckle nonetheless. And Vi smiles wide because she's heard it, and she does have a nice smile, you notice.

There're many things you want to say, some of them not so kind while some more curious. But something warm flutters in your chest, giving life to a feeling that you haven't felt in a long, long time.

"...You're stupid," is that you finally settle on, and Vi laughs loudly at that. She closes the space between you two a little further, tentatively grinning.

"So I've been told," she replies before nodding towards the elevators. "So do you maybe wanna grab lunch with me or something?"

You hold Vi's gaze for a second, purse your lips before giving a small smile.

"No," you say, walking backward to maintain your gaze with Vi. "I'm busy."

"Tomorrow?"

"Nope."

"The next day?"

"Nah."

You and Vi are beaming at each other now, the space between you as wide as a chasm.

"What do I gotta do?" Vi asks, eager, and you laugh.

"Go a week without pissing me off, then you can take me out."

Vi's gaze turns determined, the look sending a slight shiver down your spine.

"Deal."

[stevishabitat]

People act like citations are just ass-covering "tee hee don't sue me for plagiarism" like the disclaimers on fanfic "I don't own these characters, don't sue me!"

That not what citations are for.

Citations are there so if you're reading a quote or idea in one place, you can refer to the original for more context, or to learn more about the subject, or read more of that author's work.

Same with art. If you credit an artist, then your audience can see more of their work. Otherwise it's just "cool art wish I knew where to find more of it *shrug*"

Crediting authors and artists is more than avoiding punishment or getting brownie points for being good at citations/credits. It's a service to your audience so they can learn new things and find things they enjoy. In some ways it's similar to tagging. It gives people a way to find what they're looking for.

I saw a gorgeous painting on Tumblr, not credited in the post, but someone in the tags had linked to the artist's website, where I was able to buy a print and now have it hanging on my wall.

If not for that link, I may have just saved a screenshot and been like "nice painting, sure wish this existed in poster size for my bedroom wall"

Another one I think is important in the context of Tumblr is if someone gifs an excerpt from an interview (say an actor interviewed on a late night show) it's always super helpful to link to the video of that interview if it exists online. There have been times I have struggled to find out when/where an interview took place when I've seen multiple gifs of it with zero context.

academic who writes a paper and just puts "credit to original author :)" for all their citations

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Headcanon: How They Meet Their Plus Size Girlfriend

I'm officially trying my hand at headcanons (only a few years behind the ball there)! If these go over well, I might start to incorporate them more around here.

Special thanks to @zepskies for the idea (okay, it's a little different than we talked about but I think it still fits the bill) and getting me on the headcanon bandwagon! 😘

Warnings: language, implied smutty times, implied body insecurity

Dean Winchester

Dean’s always been the kind of guy to think if a woman’s beautiful to him, she’s beautiful. Case closed. Which was exactly his thought when he caught a glimpse of Y/N at a dive bar outside of Lawrence. He’d do a double take, not being shy about how he took you in or hiding the smile on his face when he saw you watching him. One quick look away before you were looking back and that was more than enough invitation for him.

He’d be on his feet, at your table in under ten seconds, not deterred by the furrow of your brows. In another ten he’d have laid out one of, in his opinion, his best lines. His confidence fell a sliver when all you did was stare back at him but that was alright. He wasn’t going to give up that easily. 

“Why don’t you try that line on the blonde over there that’s mentally undressing you?” you’d say, fighting back the urge to say something snappy at the ridiculously handsome man in front of you. Before he had even come over, you knew he was trouble, knew his type. He surely had made a bet with the longer haired man at his time and had come over to play a game with you. There was no way in hell he was actually interested, not when there were at least five different women at the bar ready to jump at the chance to take him home.

The man would smirk, lifting his head as if he realized something. To your annoyance, he’d slip into the empty chair beside you, taking a short sip of his beer along the way. He’d adorably rest his elbow against the table’s edge, leaning his head against his hand as he slumped down, all the while smiling at you.

“If I wanted to talk to her, I’d have gone over there. Now you can tell me to get lost or you can give me a chance.”

“Chance to what?”

“Take a beautiful woman home,” he’d grin, looking up through his lashes. You’d laugh, gesturing down to yourself, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Hey now. Don’t tell me when I think a woman is hot and I won’t tell you.”

You’d raise your eyebrows, the mysterious stranger inching closer, lifting his head with a certain boyish mischievousness. “C’mon sweetheart. One drink.”

“Fine. One drink.”

One drink turned into five. One night turned into six. Six nights turned into Dean spending the night and making breakfast for three weeks straight. 

Dean smirked when you let him inside the house, his hands immediately shooting to your hips and pulling you crashing into his chest. 

“Down boy,” you’d teased as he tried to kiss under your jaw, his grip keeping you from returning to the kitchen. “Dean. It’ll burn.”

“We can order takeout,” he mumbled, nipping at your neck. You rolled your eyes, smiling when Dean chuckled. “How’s that one drink working out for you, sweetheart?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you said, Dean walking you back against the front door, his hands shooting to your face, capturing it like he had been starved all day. “Someone miss me?”

“My favorite girl? Always,” he hummed, body jerking when a waft of cherries floated through the room. He tilted his head, eyes wide. “You…made pie?”

“Well you said you like-” He’d slam his lips to yours with an almost bruising force, leaving you breathless before jogging away. “What are you doing?”

“Saving the pie!” You crossed your arms, laughing as he scrambled to put on an oven mitt and yank it out of the oven. “Crisis averted. You didn’t say it was pie, sweetheart. We never let a pie burn.”

He walked back over much slower as it cooled on a rack, Dean placing his hands on either side of your head, a dangerous smile on his face. “Now, where were we?”

Beau Arlen

Beau would wait a while before making a move on you. He had to prove it to himself that he was ready for another relationship and that Emily was doing better after everything that happened over the summer. So he quietly waited and settled for your friendship. There was no reason in his head to drag you into his crap or jump the gun when he knew it’d cause problems. But he didn’t miss the way you caught him staring during movie nights, dinners, at park yoga (that truth be told he only did at first because Emily’s therapist thought it was something nice to do together but didn’t want to admit he actually enjoyed). 

Beau knew he would be sending conflicting signals. Eyes that said for the love of god I want this, words that said this is platonic as hell. He had to go so far as to keep his hands off of you completely for fear he would break his resolve and just plant one on you. Naturally when he finally felt like he was in a good place to give things an honest shake, you’d tell him on his lunch break that you had a date that night.

“Cancel it,” Beau blurts out. He’d watch you scrunch up your face but he’s already let the cat out of the bag. Might as well go all in. “Go out with me.”

“Beau, we can hang out tomorrow. I want to go out with this guy, see where it leads. I'm not getting any younger. I need to get serious about finding someone.”

“Yeah and I’m serious about going out with you. Let me take you out on a date.” He’d understand your hesitation. He was the one backing off whenever you’d put out feelers in the past. Beau knew he had to go all in if he wanted to earn that trust with you.

“Beau. Come on. I know I’m not your type.”

Beau rose from the other side of his desk, striding around it and stopping in front of your chair. “You are my type and before you open that mouth of yours to argue, I thought I owed it to you to get my shit together before I did this. I ain’t perfect but I am ready to try.”

He’d rest a hand on your thigh, waiting for your reaction, inching up ever so slightly to make it clear that was more than a friendly gesture.

“Beau, I don’t…you never seemed interested-“

“I am. In all of you. But I wanted you to get the best version of me. The one that is emotionally available and that’s taken time.” He’d lean down closer, sliding his hand up your leg, grazing your hip, your ribs, all the way up to your cheek. “I’m ready if you want me.”

“Of course I want you. But…” He’d hum, leaning in close, pressing his lips to yours. 

“But you don’t think I want you?” He frowned when you looked away, his hand catching your chin. “I’m a big boy and you’re a big girl. I think we’re both old enough to trust that we’re telling each other the truth. So go out with me tonight. I promise it will be a million times better than whatever guy you were going to go with.”

It’d take a moment but he’d grin as you texted your date you had a change of heart, Beau already planning the perfect evening together.

Not long after that first date Beau would be spending most of his nights with you, whether that was at home with Emily, out at your favorite bar, or exploring town. He’d constantly have an arm around you, your waist, your shoulders, your hips. Beau liked to keep his girl close. Maybe he’d worked through a lot but he was still protective through and through and that meant he was always watchful of you. Including the occasional stray eye when you were out. Beau always made sure to give them a look to back off and that you were taken. 

“What are you doing?” You’d ask one night, catching him with narrowed eyes. 

“Nothing, dear,” he said, tucking you into his side, forcing a smile. “Just fending off the sharks.”

“Sharks?”

“You really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you.” He’d watch you do that thing with your nose which meant you were fighting back the heat trying to rise to your cheeks. But he wouldn’t fight his own, smirking as he kissed you deeply. “Thank god you’re all mine.”

Soldier Boy/Ben

Ben would make a move on you the second he saw you. Long strides across the club and an arm draped around your shoulders as he almost ignored your presence in favor of order a round of shots. He’d keep you close even as you attempted to pull away, turning his head with a coy smile. 

“Where you going, gorgeous? Didn’t you come out tonight to have fun?” he grinned darkly, enjoying the mixture of disgust at his arrogance and the intrigue hidden underneath your frown. “Someone in a skirt like that is looking for a good time. Well, here I am. No strings attached”

He’d lick his lips as you’d take your shot without breaking eye contact, Soldier Boy’s eyebrows raising in surprise. He wouldn’t have been sure if it’d be that easy but he’d take it. Until he’d watch you down the other shot and turn around, walking off to the dance floor with a wave over the shoulder.

Challenge accepted.

He’d follow you out, letting you take the lead, growing frustrated every time you’d teasingly pull him in only to push away. His desire would only grow when you gave him the slip at the end of the night, no longer a game in his mind. You weren’t simply a conquest anymore. He was curious about the woman in the leather skirt and how on earth she was resisting everything he was offering.

Finally, finally, he’d find you outside the club, leaning against the cold brick wall, hands clasped behind your back.

“Now don’t you run off on me again,” purred Ben, taking your hand in his, eyes dark and hungry. He’d smirk at your feigned disinterest, putting on his most innocent expression he could muster. “My place. Let me do wonderful things to that body of yours, gorgeous.”

He’d take your nonchalant shrug for a yes and before he knew it, he’d have you in his apartment, down on his knees, making good on his promise. Before he could get his head on right though, he’d hear the click of your heels on the marble floor. With a wobble and fixing the tent in his pants, he’d catch you halfway out the door, his eyes wide in bewilderment. “Where you going, baby?”

“Like you said, I was looking for a good time and I had it. I don’t remember saying you were getting any more than that.” He’d lean against the wall, cocking his head and letting the coil in his gut unravel.

“Baby, stay and I’ll keep on chasing you until you’re sick of me. Scouts’ honor.” He’d smile at your laugh, jutting out his lip. “Aw, don’t make me beg.”

“What a shame. I bet you’d beg real pretty.” Soldier Boy wouldn’t fight the way his breath hitched. He’d been with plenty of teasing women before but they always wanted him in control. Something about that threat, promise, whatever it was would make his skin itchy with need.

“Want to see if you can make me?” He’d know his hook was in the moment the words left his mouth, the way your eyes raked over his body. “No one’s ever been able. Think you’re that good?”

“Oh sweetie, you’ll regret that.”

Two months later, Soldier Boy wouldn’t regret it for one second. Not just for what you’d brought out in him in the bedroom. You challenged him, called him on his shit and damn he liked you putting him in his place. He wouldn’t quite understand it but somewhere he likened it to something akin to deeper feelings. Everything had started out at pure sex but there was something about you that stayed under his skin, something that him taking you out on real dates, to movie premieres and parties. Something that made him want this to last. He’d growl at the man that once tried to lay a hand on your ass, not even pretending to be sorry when you’d chastised him for breaking the guys arm.

Soldier Boy knew his anger was quick and he wasn’t the easiest person in the world to deal with but he didn’t care. Nobody laid a hand on his girl. Not unless they wanted to lose theirs.

Russell Shaw

Russell didn’t love going in the office. He considered the field his true workplace. But every so often he had to go in to deal with contracts, paperwork, or in this case, get reimbursed for a phone that’d been destroyed somewhere along the Amazon river.

So that was how he’d turned the corner too quick and slammed straight into you. He’d fall smack on his ass and look across the way, finding you in a similar position, coffee staining your peach colored blouse and a shattered mug on the ground.

“Oh fuck,” he’d say as he’d notice the red streaks coming from your hand. He’d slide across the floor, pulling the forest green handkerchief he kept on him and quickly covering your bleeding palm. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was an accident,” you’d say, wincing as he tightened it. 

“Let me take you to get that stitched. You shouldn’t drive like that,” he’d say before ducking into a nearby room and alerting an admin to what had happened. Russell would stay in the waiting room the whole time you got checked out and after getting you out of work the rest of the day, he’d take you down the street to his favorite food truck, encouraging you to get your blood sugar back up even if you’d barely lost any in the first place. 

“I’ll happily pay for the dry cleaning or new clothes,” he’d say as you sipped on a glass of sweet tea, finding his nervous energy kind of adorable. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“Well, you know you contract guys. Break into enemy territory in the dead of night? No problem. Walk down a hallway? Now that’s dangerous.” Russell would smile hard at your teasing, more than happy to not have incurred any of your wrath in the long term. He had the feeling you were uncomfortable in your messy clothes though, despite the cardigan you were holding closed with one hand over your shirt. 

A gust of wind would come through and threaten to throw all your food to the ground, both of you reaching and grabbing before it could fall. In that instance, Russell would spot that you weren’t just uncomfortable. Your peach blouse had turned completely see through and was revealing a light pink bra. 

“Here,” Russell said without thinking, shrugging out of his jacket on the cool day and standing, handing it across the table. You’d blink up at him before slowly taking it, holding the much thicker material to your chest. As much he might have liked, he kept his mouth shut about the bra, instead letting you eat your lunch quickly and quietly.

Russell would insist on driving you home with an offer to take you into work to get your car in the morning.

“Sorry about ruining your clothes again,” he’d say on your front porch, holding up a hand when you tried to give his jacket back. “You keep it. Not like we’ll never see each other again, right?”

“Right. I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then.”

Russell would pause halfway down the steps, feeling your gaze on his back. “Do you want to maybe…get dinner later? I don’t have any jobs lined up for a few weeks and I’m a sucker for pink.”

He’d turn around with a hesitant smile, one eyebrow raised as you lifted your chin. “Seven. Don’t be late.”

Russell smirked when he picked you up that night wearing a pink zip up, enjoying the smug look on your face. 

“So where you taking me, Shaw?” you’d ask, Russell opening the passenger door for you. “I normally don’t wear jeans and a hoodie on a first date.”

“Maybe you’ve been dating the wrong men,” he’d wink as he closed the door. “It’ll be fun and no coffee will be thrown or shrapnel will occur, I promise.”

“Oh well, is it even a first date without those?” He’d chuckle, quickly hoping behind the wheel. 

“I guess that makes this our second date then,” he’d shoot back with a smile.

Russell finds out after his first job away that he doesn’t like being away for weeks at a time from you. Phone calls and face time aren’t enough. He puts in a word with his supervisor about taking shorter missions only from then on out. He’s absolutely giddy to pull up to your house when he gets home from the airport, even if you haven’t been answering his texts today.

“Hey,” he says when you answer the door. He doesn’t like the sliver of doubt on your face. “What’s wrong?”

“I should have asked them before but when you go away…are there others?” He’d hate how small your voice sounded, the way you’d rub your arm absently. “I mean, I know we’re new and didn’t really talk about it and you go to some places with some very beautiful women-”

“I got a beautiful woman right at home and she is all I want. Just me and her. Understand?” Russell would kiss away that worry until it was a faded memory, one he would be more than happy to dispel to you over and over again.

___________

[jinnie-ret]

take a chance with me

lee know x reader

genre: mostly fluff, teeny angst

content warnings: one mention of a stroke (it's not an actual one just Minho malfunctioning lol)

word count: 1.8k

summary: lee know was too scared to express his feelings - lucky you were there to convince him his feelings were mutual

a/n: Umm... hi, lol. It's been a while since I've posted. Hopefully this is a nice surprise hehe

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚����

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Waking up early each morning and leaving your home at 06:30am would seem like a chore to most people. For you? It was incredibly rewarding to enter the workplace, opening up the front office for the day. Your friends had questioned you wondering how you did it, but helping your parents manage a cat rescue home soothed a part of your soul you didn't know you needed healing, particularly when dreaming of becoming an astronaut, a bus driver or a world famous actor as a child.

Though the biting winds sent a chill through your bones, the sun shone down upon you, rays reflecting off of the icy pavements on your route to work. The weather really couldn't make it's mind up recently. It reminded you of someone.

"Minho, hi! You're early!" you grinned, poking your head out of your scarf that you had wrapped securely around your neck. He seemed to brighten your day even further, as cheesy as it sounded. It was the way he bantered with you, back and forth, exciting you for what witty statement he'd come out with next.

"Visitor's Day, remember?" Minho simply commented, a cloud of air escaping his mouth as his teeth chattered, hands shoved deeply into his coat pockets.

"Oh, I nearly forgot!" your eyebrows furrowed in concern, your own hands digging around your pockets for the schedule of the day. It was a fortnightly occurrence in which you'd accept visitors looking around, hoping to re-home the cats that deserved a place to feel safe, loved and looked after. In fact, it was how you met Minho.

Two years ago was when he first set foot into the establishment, quiet, demure and unfazed. That was, until he was led to the small huts outside where the cats resided. Sneaking out some treats from his pocket, he fed a gorgeous boy he soon named Dori, feeling an instant attachment (the two of them). He tried to find his way back inside, ready to sign some adoption papers, when he stumbled into what he thought was merely a stack of boxes, not initially realising that you were behind them and trying to haul them inside on your own.

"I'm so sorry!" you had gasped apologetically, immediately grabbing a broom to the side and sweeping the rogue pieces of kibble that had escaped it's confines.

"Eh, don't worry," Minho shrugged, trying to play it cool although he couldn't stop himself from giving you a quick scan from head to toe in case he had hurt you, "at least they're not being starved, it's reassuring," he added on, laughing through his nose as he straightened up the boxes of cat food.

"You should see Gingy, he's a chonky boy," you jokes, brushing your hair out of your face and glancing up at him. All you could think was, and later you berated yourself for it, but the cat that got to go home with this one was certainly lucky.

"Oh? What if he heard that?" Minho teases, wondering if you'd feign the dramatics, or even get flustered at the idea.

"He knows," you shake your head and chuckle, making a smarter decision now in only grabbing one box.

"Oh, sorry did you need any-"

"Did you want some help with-"

Comically, you both fell silent simultaneously, feeling awkward that you had spoken over and cut off each other at the same time.

"I'll grab a box," Minho speaks up, moving to stand beside you.

"Oh thank you! That's a great help, truly. I was just going to ask if you wanted those adoption papers," you practically beamed.

"How could you tell?"

"You've got some blue fluff on you. That's from Lilo's hut."

"Actually, his name is Dori."

And when you found out Minho had two other cats and the reasoning behind the name 'Dori', you melted instantly. On the spot. Like, literally on the floor had it not been for the rational part of your brain telling you to stop falling for a man you had just met. Minho's sweet Dori completed his little cat family, the soft, gentle trio of boys.

To say you were Minho's biggest advocate when he admitted to wanting to help out and work alongside you at the Cat Rescue, would be completely right. You had brought him straight to your parents, informing them of how knowledgeable and tender he was in interacting with the cats and the rest was history.

Although, that wasn't where this story ended.

"Did you also forget the key?" Minho snapped you out of your reverie.

"Huh? What- no, here," you grasped the key and eagerly gave it to Minho, unsure if your fingers would have the strength to unlock the door, locking up from the inhumanely cold temperatures.

"Ah, she did remember," Minho smirked, soon having to catch his balance after you impulsively shoved his shoulder a bit too hard with your own.

"Unlock the door, pudding boy," you joked, Minho rolling his eyes in response. He could never let you have the upper hand for too long, however.

"I prefer jagi," he batted his eyelashes at you in an over the top way, making you groan and cover your eyes as a form of protection. You loved it really, you just weren't sure on if you should show it.

Minho had told you many times before that you wore your heart on your sleeve. Whether it was you recklessly running into the middle of the road to save a kitten from being hit, or spending your savings on allowing a family the chance to adopt a cat into their lives, you acted upon your love for others. On the other hand, he knew he was too scared to show you how he really felt. Banter, jokes, 'fake' flirting was the perfect cover up to distract him from his feelings, as well as the ones he hadn't yet recognised you shared.

Oddly, there was an awkwardness in the air between the two of you by the end of the day. Perhaps it was the elderly pair who commented on your selflessness as a couple, or seeing many young partners enter and adopt their first pet together. It triggered emotions within you both that had remained hidden for too long. You weren't just good friends, but you were made for each other. The love of cats; the gentleness you exuded and he let slip more often than he'd like to admit and the ease in which you both took in pushing the others' buttons.

Minho always thought you were bolder than him.

"Do you ever think we'll find love, Minho?" you yawned, sweeping up the remnants of dirt that had escaped the many pairs of shoes that entered the home today.

"We?" Minho paused, his grip on the mop slipping ever so slightly before he regained his composure, "I'm not really searching."

Of course he wasn't, not when-

"But is that because you’ve already found it? I don’t want to be bold but-" you nearly scolded yourself for daring to speak when your mind was all over the place.

"That would shock me if you weren’t," Minho snorted, easily falling back into his natural self.

"I'm being real, right now, Min," you squeezed your eyes shuts, back facing him and not wanting to face rejection.

"That's good, here's me thinking you were an illusion all along-"

"Just take a chance, Minho! With me. I-if it doesn’t work out, then we’ll still be friends, we’ll figure it out," you glanced over at him cautiously. Whilst your words were rushed and fumbly, your actions were timid.

Minho's brain malfunctioned. Is this what it felt like to have a stroke? Did you just confess your love for him? Wasn't it just another bit of banter?

"We're friends?" he teased, in that tone he always used. It now felt like a painful reminder, that you'd never truly get through to him. Really, he was testing the waters, and masking it as usual.

"I wish you would just be honest with me," you sighed quietly, your posture slightly hunched. Minho didn't like that. He liked when you stood tall, confident, proud.

"About what? I haven’t lied about anything," Minho busied himself with mopping the floor in order to distract himself from you. As long as he could see the shine in the wooden flooring panning across the entrance of the home, it was enough to put the aside the guilt he felt when the sparkle in your eye dimmed ever so slightly.

The days seemed to drag on endlessly after the unspoken rejection from the guy you had been crushing on for years, now. He hadn't opened up with you in a while - that's the shop we're talking about, not Minho and his thoughts and feelings. He hadn't ever really done that with you, minus a couple of short, rare occasions. Your parents had noticed the slight dullness that seemed to tie the two of you together, it taking a lot of convincing from them to you to lead another Visitor's Day with Minho. The only convincing factor for you in that moment had been when you drifted off into your own thoughts, fading away from the lecture you were receiving and instead finding comfort in the fact that it would be a busy day. There would be no time to think when you were working.

But when it came to the end of both of your shifts? Too much time to think, to dwell, to ponder.

"Well, umm, bye," you nodded politely at him and robotically waved with how stiff you felt in looking at him. Yet it seemed to give ample opportunity for Minho to grab your hand and pull you back towards him before you could rush away, just like he had regrettably done all those evenings ago.

"Oh, what's this about?" you questioned, praying that your hands didn't start getting clammy simply from being so close to him in this way.

"We're going on a date," Minho firmly stated, but his words didn't match his actions, his eyes shyly trailing off to the side and the tops of his ears turning red. How endearing.

"No."

"No?!"

"You can look me in the eyes and say it."

Oh, yes, he had definitely gotten lucky with you. Even though his heart pounded in worry that you would reject him too and he would have been too late, he was able to look you in the eyes and throw a one liner right back at you.

"Hmm, maybe I change my mind," Minho shrugged, feigning a carelessness and dropping his hand from yours.

"Hey! Come on!" you pulled him back towards you, chest to chest, an intense amount of love pouring from both of your souls as you gazed into each others' eyes.

"I'm taking you on a date," Minho affirmed, poking your nose to startle you before you realised he too had been on another planet.

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tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @katzline @kiwihrt @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @his-angell @2minstan @skzoologist @lovingchan @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria @theo4eve @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Sevika x Reader Headcanons

The concept of Sevika, Isha, and Jinx being like a family is rotting my poor gay little brain. So I'm writing this XD (woah... found THIS in my drafts?????????)

Pronouns for reader: She/Her

Relationship type: Established relationship

General Idea: Headcanons I have for being apart of the found family of Sevika, Jinx, and Isha as Sevika's girlfriend.

Content Warnings: Modern AU, this is so self-indulgent it actually hurts, *gasp quiver quiver* L-L-L-LESBIANS?!?!?, Canon-Divergent ("ISHA AND JINX AREN'T DEAD!" I scream as I rock back and forth in a straight jacket.), you're honestly barely in this ngl, it's also Hella short

Jinx whooshes around the hallway with her socks. She ended up getting Isha to participate in this activity. It drives Sevika wild, but you think it's hilarious.

You guys USED have a family game night... ya know? Play some family Mario Party, maybe some Mario Kart... yeah, that was until you had to ban it.

It wasn't Sevika OR Jinx's fault. The controllers just MAGICALLY flew into the TV! -_-

Speaking of video games, everyone in the house has their favorite games.

Isha's is Minecraft. She likes to play survival, but plays creative sometimes too. She definetly has a world for each mode.

Jinx really likes Splatoon. She thinks the characters are cool and she likes to shoot ink at people. Plus, she really likes the music. She plays SO much splatoon. Her hours on the game are almost frighteningly high.

Sevika plays games like CoD, Dead by Daylight, and Stardew Valley. Yes. Stardew Valley. She kept it hidden for a while, but one day, you came home early from work, and sure enough, Sevika was on the couch harvesting crops.

Nobodies gonna believe you though.

Everyone sits together at dinner. Isha makes sure of that. If Jinx goes to eat her dinner in her room, Isha grabs Jinx's wrist and silently begs the blue haired girl to stay.

Speaking of Isha... NOBODY can resist that girl.

There's been so many times you guys have tried to tell her no... it rarely ever happens. It gets to the point where Jinx, oftentimes, has Isha ask for things cuz she knows that she'll probably get it.

And Isha KNOWS it too.

But who can resist that little face????????????????

[sonotdaiisy]

MAKE UP OR MAKE OUT? ⸺ Minji x reader

Minji and y/n had never gotten along, but what happens when they are paired up for a project forcing them to get along and interact and maybe even kiss…..?

GENRE ⸺ fluff, enemies to lovers

WARNINGS ⸺ fluff, jealousy and mention of being possessive, kissing (def), a post after 2months (to prove that I’m alive), requested

WC ⸺ 4.5k

You and Minji stood facing each other, your eyes locked in a tense stare. You were both students in the same photography class, and you'd been assigned to work on a project together.

The problem was, you and Minji couldn't stand each other. You thought she was arrogant and entitled, while she thought you were lazy and uncreative. The tension between you was palpable, and you could feel the air thickening with hostility.

"What's the project about?" Minji asked curtly, her voice dripping with disdain.

"It's a photography portfolio," you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral. "We need to take a series of photos that showcase our skills and creativity."

Minji snorted. "I don't need to showcase my skills. My photos are already amazing."

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with."

Minji's eyes flashed with anger, but she bit back a retort. "Fine. Let's start brainstorming."

You and Minji sat down at a small café, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city. You'd decided to meet up and discuss your project, hoping to come up with a cohesive plan.

But as you started brainstorming, it became clear that you and Minji had fundamentally different artistic visions. You wanted to create a portfolio that was edgy and avant-garde, while Minji was pushing for something more traditional and commercial.

"I don't understand why you're being so stubborn," Minji said, her voice rising in frustration. "My idea is clearly better."

"I'm not being stubborn," you replied, trying to keep your cool. "I just think that your idea is boring and unoriginal."

Minji's eyes flashed with anger. "My idea is not boring," she said, her voice icy. "It's just more refined and sophisticated than your silly, artsy concept."

You felt a surge of annoyance, but you tried to take a deep breath and calm down. "Look, can we just try to find some common ground?" you asked, hoping to diffuse the tension.

Minji raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure that's possible," she said, her voice dripping with skepticism. "But I'm willing to try."

You nodded, feeling a sense of determination. "Okay, let's do it. Let's find a way to make this project work."

As you sat there, sipping your coffee and staring at Minji, you couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for her. She was stubborn and infuriating, but she was also passionate and driven.

And as you looked into her eyes, you saw something there that gave you pause. A spark of creativity, a glimmer of inspiration.

Maybe, just maybe, you and Minji could create something amazing together.

As you and Minji continued to work on your project, you started to feel a sense of camaraderie with your partner. Despite your initial differences, you'd found a way to work together, and your project was starting to take shape.

But just as things were going smoothly, a new challenge emerged. A rival photography duo, consisting of two students from a neighboring school, had entered the competition. They were known for their cutting-edge style and their ability to push the boundaries of photography.

The rival duo, consisting of a boy named Taeoh and a girl named Jiwon, was confident and charismatic. They exuded an air of superiority, and it was clear that they were determined to win.

Minji's eyes narrowed as she watched Taeoh and Jiwon set up their equipment. "We can't let them win," she said, her voice low and determined.

You nodded in agreement. "I know. We need to step up our game."

Minji turned to you, a fierce glint in her eye. "Let's do it. Let's show them what we're capable of."

You grinned, feeling a surge of adrenaline. "Game on."

Together, you and Minji threw yourself into your project, determined to outdo Taeoh and Jiwon. You spent long hours brainstorming, shooting, and editing, pushing yourselves to the limit.

As the competition heated up, the tension between you and Minji began to dissipate. You started to see each other in a new light, as partners and allies rather than rivals.

One day, as you were working on a particularly tricky shot, Minji turned to you and smiled. "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually starting to enjoy working with you."

You grinned back at her, feeling a sense of warmth and connection. "I know exactly what you mean," you said. "I'm starting to think that we make a pretty good team."

Minji's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Maybe we do."

As you continued to work together, you started to realize that your feelings for Minji went beyond mere partnership. You were starting to develop feelings for her, feelings that you couldn't quite explain.

But as you looked into Minji's eyes, you saw something there that gave you hope. A spark of attraction, a glimmer of interest.

Maybe, just maybe, Minji felt the same way.

As the warm evening sunset cast its golden glow over the classroom, you and Minji worked together to capture the perfect shot. Minji had set up the camera and tripod, carefully adjusting the settings to ensure that the photo would be nothing short of breathtaking.

You, on the other hand, stood behind the camera, your eyes fixed on the viewfinder as you waited for the perfect moment to take the picture. The sunset was a kaleidoscope of colors, a swirling mix of oranges, pinks, and purples that seemed to dance across the sky.

Minji stood beside you, her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before you. But as she gazed at the sunset, her attention began to wander. She found herself noticing the way the fading light seemed to bring out the colors in your eyes.

Your eyes, Minji thought to herself, were truly captivating. They sparkled like diamonds in the sunset, shining with a warm, golden light that seemed to draw her in. Minji felt a flutter in her chest, a sudden jolt of awareness that caught her off guard.

Is she attracted to you? Minji wondered, the thought slipping into her mind like a whispered secret. She felt a surge of surprise, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

But Minji quickly shrugged off the feeling, telling herself she was being ridiculous. She was focused on the project, not on developing feelings for her partner. Besides, she'd always thought of you as just a classmate, someone she tolerated rather than admired.

So Minji pushed aside her doubts and focused on the task at hand. She watched as you expertly framed the shot, your fingers moving deftly over the camera controls. You took a deep breath, your eyes locked on the viewfinder, and then you pressed the shutter button.

The camera clicked, capturing the perfect moment. The sunset was frozen in time, its colors vibrant and alive. Minji felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing that you'd taken a truly stunning photo.

As you reviewed the shot on the camera's LCD screen, Minji couldn't help but steal glances at you. She noticed the way your hair curled slightly at the nape of your neck, the way your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled.

Minji felt that flutter in her chest again, the same sensation she'd experienced just moments before. She tried to brush it off, telling herself she was just being silly.

But as she looked at you, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more between you, something that went beyond mere partnership or friendship. Minji felt a sense of wonder, a sense of possibility that she couldn't ignore.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the classroom in a warm, golden light, Minji realized that she was seeing you in a whole new way. She was starting to notice the little things about you, the things that made you unique and special.

And as she stood there, watching you review the photos on the camera, Minji felt a sense of excitement, a sense of anticipation. She wondered what would happen next, wondered if she'd ever find the courage to explore these newfound feelings.

As the days went by, you and Minji continued to work on your project, pouring your hearts and souls into every detail. You'd grown closer, your mutual respect and admiration for each other's skills and talents blossoming into a strong partnership.

One evening, as you were reviewing your photos, Minji turned to you with a thoughtful expression. "Hey, can I ask you something?" she said, her voice soft and introspective.

"Of course," you replied, curious about what was on her mind.

Minji hesitated, her eyes searching yours as if seeking permission to share her thoughts. "I was just wondering...what do you think about me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a surge of surprise, unsure of how to respond. But as you looked into Minji's eyes, you saw something there that gave you pause. A deep vulnerability, a sense of uncertainty that touched your heart.

"I think you're an amazing person, Minji," you said, your voice sincere. "You're talented, driven, and passionate about your work. And...I think I'm really starting to enjoy your company."

Minji's face lit up with a radiant smile, and you felt your heart skip a beat. "I'm glad to hear that," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "I have to admit, I'm really starting to like you too."

As you smiled back at Minji, you felt a sense of connection that went beyond mere partnership. It was as if you'd crossed a threshold, entering a new realm of understanding and mutual respect.

Just then, Taeoh and Jiwon, the rival photography duo, walked into the room, their eyes scanning the space with a mixture of curiosity and competitiveness. Minji's eyes narrowed, her expression tightening with a hint of animosity.

But you just smiled, feeling a sense of confidence and camaraderie with Minji. "Hey, guys," you said, waving at Taeoh and Jiwon. "What brings you here?"

Taeoh smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "We just wanted to see how the competition is doing," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And I have to say, we're not impressed."

Minji's eyes flashed with anger, but you just chuckled, feeling a sense of amusement at Taeoh's antics. "Well, we're not trying to impress you," you said, smiling at Minji. "We're just trying to create something amazing."

Taeoh snorted, but Jiwon just rolled her eyes, looking unimpressed. "Whatever," she said, turning to Taeoh. "Let's just focus on our own project."

As Taeoh and Jiwon walked away, Minji turned to you, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I think they're just jealous," she said, smiling.

You grinned back at her, feeling a sense of solidarity and shared purpose. "I think you're right," you said, nodding in agreement.

As you continued to work on your project, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. You and Minji were creating something special, something that would showcase your skills and talents to the world.

And as you worked together, side by side, you couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and possibility. You were starting to realize that your partnership with Minji was more than just a collaboration – it was the start of something truly special.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden light over the room, you and Minji decided to take a break and grab some dinner. You walked to a nearby café, enjoying the cool evening air and the sound of birds chirping in the trees.

As you sat down at a small table, Minji turned to you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I have an idea," she said, a sly grin spreading across her face.

"What is it?" you asked, curious.

Minji leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let's sneak into the school's rooftop garden tonight and take some photos of the city skyline. It'll be perfect for our project."

You felt a surge of excitement, your heart racing with anticipation. "That sounds amazing," you said, grinning.

Minji smiled back at you, her eyes shining with excitement. "I knew you'd be up for it."

As you finished your dinner and made plans for your midnight adventure, you couldn't help but feel a sense of thrill and excitement. You and Minji were about to embark on a journey that would take you to new heights – literally.

And as you looked into Minji's eyes, you saw something there that gave you pause. A spark of attraction, a glimmer of possibility.

You wondered what the night would bring, and whether your feelings for Minji would continue to grow.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm orange glow over the school, you and Minji made your way to the rooftop garden. You'd been planning this sneak attack for days, and you were determined to get the perfect shot.

Minji led the way, her eyes scanning the hallway for any signs of teachers or security guards. You followed closely behind, your heart racing with excitement.

As you reached the stairwell, Minji turned to you and grinned. "Ready for this?" she whispered.

You nodded, your pulse pounding in your ears. "Let's do it."

Minji pushed open the door to the rooftop garden, and you slipped inside, finding yourselves in a tranquil oasis. The garden was filled with lush greenery and vibrant flowers, and the view of the city skyline was breathtaking.

Minji set up her camera, while you took in the sights and sounds of the garden. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the sound of birds chirping in the trees.

As Minji began to snap photos, you couldn't help but notice the way the fading light brought out the colors in her eyes. They sparkled like diamonds, shining with a warm, golden light that seemed to draw you in.

You felt a surge of attraction, your heart racing with excitement. But you pushed the feeling aside, focusing on the task at hand.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the garden in a warm, golden light, Minji turned to you and smiled. "This is perfect," she said, her eyes shining with excitement.

You nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. You'd pulled off the perfect sneak attack, and you'd gotten some amazing photos to boot.

As you packed up your equipment and prepared to leave, Minji turned to you and grinned. "Thanks for tonight," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I had a blast."

You smiled back at her, feeling a sense of connection and camaraderie. "No problem," you said, your voice low and husky. "I had a great time too."

As you walked out of the garden, side by side, you couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and possibility. You'd shared a special moment, a moment that would stay with you forever.

And as you looked over at Minji, you saw something in her eyes that gave you pause. A spark of attraction, a glimmer of possibility.

As the days went by, you and Minji continued to work on your project, growing closer with each passing moment. You'd developed a strong partnership, anticipating each other's moves and working together seamlessly.

One day, as you were working on a particularly tricky shot, a girl from your class, Sooyoung, came over to chat with you. She was a friendly and outgoing person, always eager to strike up a conversation.

Minji, who was busy adjusting the lighting, couldn't help but notice the way Sooyoung was laughing and smiling at you. She felt a sudden pang of jealousy, a spark of emotion that caught her off guard.

At first, Minji tried to brush off the feeling, telling herself she was being ridiculous. But as she watched Sooyoung and you chat, she couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease.

Why was Sooyoung flirting with you? Minji wondered, her mind racing with questions. And why did it bother her so much?

As Sooyoung walked away, Minji felt a sense of relief wash over her. But the feeling of jealousy lingered, refusing to be ignored.

Minji tried to focus on the project, but her mind kept wandering back to the conversation between you and Sooyoung. She couldn't help but wonder if you were interested in Sooyoung, if you were attracted to her outgoing personality and bright smile.

The thought sent a pang of discomfort through Minji's chest. She didn't like the idea of you being with someone else, didn't like the thought of you smiling and laughing with another girl.

As the day drew to a close, Minji realized that she had to confront her feelings. She couldn't keep ignoring the spark of jealousy that had ignited within her.

But what did it mean? Minji wondered, her mind racing with questions. Was she really attracted to you, or was she just feeling possessive?

As she packed up her equipment and headed home, Minji couldn't shake the feeling that her emotions were more complicated than she'd initially thought.

The day of the competition finally arrived, and you and Minji were more than ready. You'd spent countless hours perfecting your project, and you were confident that you had a winning entry.

As you set up your display, Minji couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and admiration for you. You'd taken charge of the project, leading the way with your creative vision and technical expertise. And now, as you stood confidently in front of your display, Minji couldn't help but feel a sense of awe.

The judges began their rounds, and you launched into your speech and presentation. Minji watched, mesmerized, as you effortlessly explained the concept and inspiration behind your project. You spoke with passion and conviction, your words painting a vivid picture in the minds of the judges.

Minji couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and ownership as she listened to you speak. She'd played a crucial role in the project, of course, but you'd taken the lead, and your vision and creativity had brought the whole thing together.

As the judges asked questions, Minji stepped forward, providing clear and concise explanations that complemented your own words perfectly. You worked together seamlessly, like two parts of a well-oiled machine.

The judges nodded, impressed, as you and Minji fielded their questions with ease. You could tell that you'd made a strong impression, and Minji's confidence grew with every passing moment.

Finally, the judges announced the winner, and you and Minji held your breath as they revealed the results. And then, you heard the words you'd been longing to hear: "And the first-place winner is... Minji and Y/N!"

You and Minji erupted into cheers, hugging each other tightly as the audience applauded wildly. You'd done it – you'd won the competition!

As you accepted your prize, a trophy and a certificate, you couldn't help but glance over at Jiwon and Taeoh, your rivals. They looked stunned, their faces pale with disappointment.

Minji, on the other hand, was beaming with pride. She grinned at you, her eyes shining with happiness, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and fulfillment.

You'd worked together, side by side, to create something truly special. And now, you'd been rewarded for your hard work and dedication.

As you walked offstage, trophy in hand, Minji turned to you and whispered, "We make a pretty good team, don't we?"

You smiled, feeling a sense of camaraderie and connection. "We definitely do," you replied, your voice low and husky.

Minji's eyes sparkled with amusement, and you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for the two of you. Would you continue to work together, creating new and exciting projects? Or would you take your talents in different directions, pursuing solo endeavors?

Whatever the future held, one thing was certain: you and Minji had created something truly special, something that would stay with you forever.

As you walked offstage, basking in the glory of your win, Minji turned to you with a mischievous grin. "Hey, want to celebrate this weekend?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What did you have in mind?" you asked, playing along.

Minji's grin faltered for a moment, and she looked away, her cheeks flushing with a delicate pink. "I was thinking we could grab some ice cream or something," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You teased her, trying to get a rise out of her. "Oh, Minji, are you asking me out on a date?" you asked, your voice dripping with amusement.

Minji's face turned bright red, and she smacked you on the head, her eyes flashing with mock anger. "No, dummy!" she exclaimed, laughing. "I just wanted to celebrate our win, that's all."

You chuckled, rubbing your sore head. "Okay, okay, I get it," you said, grinning. "No date, just ice cream."

Minji rolled her eyes, still laughing. "That's right," she said, smiling. "Just ice cream."

The weekend rolled around, and you met up with Minji at the prescribed park. She stood up to get the ice cream, leaving you to wait for her on the park bench.

As you sat there, watching the people walk by, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. You'd grown closer to Minji over the past few weeks, and you were starting to realize that your feelings for her went beyond mere friendship.

Minji returned with the ice cream, a big smile on her face. "I got your favorite flavor," she said, handing you a cone.

You took a lick, savoring the sweet, creamy taste. "Mmm, thanks," you said, grinning.

But as you were eating, disaster struck. Your spoon slipped from your fingers, falling to the ground with a clatter.

You pouted, feeling a pang of disappointment. "Aww, man," you said, sighing.

Minji laughed, finding your reaction adorable. "It's okay, I'll share mine with you," she said, holding out her spoon.

You smiled, feeling a sense of gratitude towards her. "Thanks," you said, taking a bite of her ice cream.

As you ate, you couldn't help but notice the way Minji's eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She was so beautiful, so full of life and energy.

At one point, you opened your mouth, expecting Minji to feed you. She looked at you, surprised, but then she smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

She fed you a bite of ice cream, her spoon touching your lips. You felt a shiver run down your spine, a spark of electricity that seemed to jump between you.

Minji's eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you just stared at each other, the world around you melting away.

It was a moment of pure intimacy, a moment that seemed to speak volumes about your feelings for each other.

As you pulled away, Minji's spoon still touching your lips, you couldn't help but wonder what it meant. Were you and Minji something more than just friends?

The question hung in the air, unanswered, as you continued to eat your ice cream, the tension between you palpable.

But for now, you just savored the moment, enjoying the sweet, creamy taste of the ice cream, and the warm, fuzzy feeling that seemed to be growing between you and Minji.

As you finished the ice cream, Minji looked at you for a while, her eyes searching yours as if seeking something. You, on the other hand, were oblivious to her gaze, too busy admiring the view in the park.

The sun was shining, casting a warm glow over the lush green grass and vibrant flowers. Children were laughing and playing, their joyful shouts and giggles filling the air. It was a peaceful, serene atmosphere, one that made you feel grateful to be alive.

But Minji's gaze was not to be ignored. She looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat, her eyes burning with a passion and sincerity that took your breath away.

You turned to her, sensing that something was amiss. And that's when you saw it - the look of determination, of vulnerability, of hope.

Minji took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort. And then, in a voice that was barely above a whisper, she spoke the words that would change everything.

"I have something to tell you," she said, her eyes locked onto yours. "Something important."

You felt a surge of curiosity, your heart racing with anticipation. "What is it?" you asked, your voice low and husky.

Minji's eyes searched yours, as if seeking reassurance. And then, in a voice that was trembling with emotion, she spoke the words that would capture your heart forever.

"I think I might be falling in love with you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt like you'd been punched in the gut, your breath knocked out of you. But it wasn't a painful feeling - it was exhilarating, liberating.

You looked at Minji, your eyes locking onto hers. And then, with a smile that came from the heart, you spoke the words that would seal your fate forever.

"I'm already there," you said, your voice filled with emotion.

Minji's face lit up with joy, her eyes shining with tears. "Really?" she asked, her voice trembling with hope.

You nodded, your heart overflowing with love. "Really," you said, your voice filled with conviction.

And then, in a moment that was both tender and passionate, Minji leaned in and kissed you. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a kiss that sealed your love forever.

As you kissed, the world around you melted away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the magic of the moment. It was a kiss that was both sweet and passionate, a kiss that left you breathless and wanting more.

And when you finally pulled away, gasping for air, Minji smiled up at you, her eyes shining with love.

"Does that mean you're my girlfriend now?" you asked, your voice filled with excitement.

Minji laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Yes, of course, silly," she said, her voice filled with love.

And with that, you sealed your fate forever, your love growing stronger with every passing moment.

[navyiera]

T!TS

vi x fem!reader

tags; smut, fingering, brat taming, dirty talk, established relationship, oral fixation (vi) teasing, lots of nipple play, dom!vi, sub!reader.

a/n: i realised that some of y'all really wanted it when i opened my mail so here it is. Just part 1 so it's the boring part. I kinda had to rush it so it's messy and it sometimes doesn't make sense and reading this back made me realise how little the reader speaks but i've got actual papers to write so i left it as it is. Lets imagine that reader doesn't speak much (please) anyways tq for so much interaction on my Cait fic!! Caitlyn smut coming up. Yessir. Also mdni.

“Violet!” you call, your voice dripping with a mix of impatience and entitlement. The silk sheets pool at your waist as you sit up, hair mussed from sleep. You’re used to getting what you want when you want it—and Vi? She knows it.

But she doesn’t answer.

You pout, your perfectly manicured nails drumming against the nightstand as you huff. Throwing on one of Vi's oversized shirts (the irony isn’t lost on you), you stomp toward the kitchen.

There she is, in all her composed glory. Her hands wrapped in bandages, her sharp jawline illuminated by the morning sunlight, and she’s wearing that smug smirk that always makes your stomach tighten. Vi doesn’t even look up as she leans against the counter, sipping coffee like she owns the world—and you.

“Did you not hear me call you?” you demand, folding your arms.

“I heard you,” she says casually, setting her cup down. Her eyes finally meet yours, dark and unwavering, and you suddenly feel smaller.

You narrow your eyes, determined to maintain the upper hand. “Then why didn’t you come?”

“Because,” she starts, pushing off the counter and sauntering toward you, “I’m not at your beck and call, princess.”

Your breath catches as she closes the distance. You can’t help but take a step back, but the cool granite countertop digs into your spine, trapping you. Vi leans in, her hands bracketing your hips, and the scent of her cologne makes your knees weak.

“I think someone needs a reminder of how things work around here,” she murmurs, her voice low and commanding.

Your bravado falters. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t play coy now.” Her hand trails up your thigh, her touch firm enough to leave no room for argument. “You’ve been a brat all day, and I’m done indulging it.”

Her lips brush against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You want to act spoiled? Fine. But you don’t call the shots, sweetheart. I do.”

You swallow hard, your heart racing. “Vi, I—”

“Shh,” she cuts you off, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye. Her gaze is predatory, and it makes you feel completely exposed. “Be a good girl for me, and maybe I’ll forgive your little tantrum.”

You nod, your defiance melting into submission under her piercing stare. Vi smirks, satisfied, and tilts your chin up with two fingers.

“See?” she whispers, her lips ghosting over yours. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You don’t get a chance to respond before her mouth captures yours in a kiss that’s equal parts possessive and tender.

"Turn around, baby." she gives your bottom lip a bite before using your hips to turn you around. Vi kisses the back of your neck in delicacy, and she grabs your jaw to make you look up at the mirror infront of you.

"See that chair?" Vi whispers into your ear and all you've got in you is to nod, she pulls back and gently pushes you forward. She's got ideas and you know it.

"Bend over it for me, hm?" she pretends to ask but her tone is more demanding than interrogative. If you get everything the way you want it, Vi gets whatever she wants from you.

She walks over as you do as she says. Her hand coming up to tap your behind, your ears, cheeks and back turning red from embarrassment.

"Can I?" She asks and she pulls the waistband of your underwear, making it snap against your skin when she lets go. Vi doesn't wait for an answer before she's pulling your panties aside.

"Hah! Look at that" her fingers trails between your folds, leaving a slick sound that causes her to smile.

You gasp when she pushes your head further down into the cushions, she kisses the back of your neck, then pulls the neckline of your (her's) t-shirt and bites your shoulder.

"I think I know just what to do with you," she puts a hand to your hips, sending waves down your spine. Vi is quick to throw you over her shoulders and carry you to your bedroom. She'd fuck you in the kitchen but that's something for sometime later.

Your hair sprawls on the pillow as you get thrown down with a faint thud, Vi moves over to you and eyes you up and down before shifting between your legs, placing soft kisses on your abdomen.

"Vi, I—" you start but get cut off by a slap on the plane of your stomach, she grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up so that youre sat on her lap

"Ah ah, did I tell you to speak, dollface?" she's getting closer as she says this, until she wraps her strong arms around your waist, holding you securely on her lap as you sit facing her. With no time wasted, she leans down and takes one of your sensitive nipples into her warm, soft mouth.

A whimper leaves your lips, your hands coming to hold onto her shoulders only for her to take them and hold onto them behind your back, earning another whine from you.

"Mhm I know, baby" Vi murmurs, her voice muffled against your breast. "If you behaved earlier, I would've let you touch me."

She suckles diligently, her tongue laving over your tender nipple as she holds your arms back with one hand. Vi's free hand travels to your your other breast, cupping and squeezing the soft mound. She starts to knead and massage the supple flesh tenderly, her thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling your other nipple between them.

"Mhng! Please— d-don't bite." You plead but she just bites harder in response, creating an aching friction to the peaks of your tits. Vi switches to your other nipple, suckling it roughly, as she continues to fondle and caress your breast.

"Don't tell me what to do." Vi murmurs, pressing kisses to the valley between your boobs, she lets go of your hands and trails her fingers towards your inner thighs, making sure her nails are dragging and digging into your skin.

"mnmh vi–"

Vi smirks against your skin, the vibrations of her amusement rumbling through you. "Yeah?" she replies, nipping at the swell of your breast. Her hand slides higher, fingertips brushing maddeningly close to your aching core.

"Such a brat." Vi's voice is a low, husky rasp, sending shivers down your spine. "You think you deserve to be touched just because you want to?"

Her nails dig into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, leaving red crescents in their wake. Vi's other hand continues its relentless assault on your sensitive nipples, pinching and rolling the stiff peaks until they throb with need.

Vi's fingers dance along the edge of your panties, not quite touching where you need her most. She looks up at you, her eyes dark and intense, a wicked grin playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Beg for it," she commands, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Beg for me to touch your pretty little pussy."

When she hears nothing more than a whimper from you, her thumb presses down on your clit, circling the sensitive nub with maddening pressure. Gosh she drove you insane. Vi leans in, her lips brushing against yours as she speaks.

"Go on, baby. Why're you hesitating, hm?"

With a gulp, you close your eyes, swallowing your pride and ego. You needed this afterall, didn't you? "P-Please?"

Vi chuckles darkly, amused by your feeble attempt at pleading. "That's it? How disappointing." she taunts, her fingers still teasing maddeningly along the damp fabric covering your core.

She leans in closer, her breath hot against your ear as she whispers, you could tell she was enjoying this moment of having the upperhand. "Try again, maybe I'll listen"

Vi punctuates her demand by slipping a finger beneath the hem of your panties, the tip of her fingers just barely grazing your slick folds. She doesn't push inside, instead tracing your slit with a feather-light touch that has you squirming with need.

"Come on, dollface. I don't have all day." Vi coaxes, her voice an impatient mumble.

Her other hand continues its relentless assault on your breasts, kneading and squeezing the supple flesh, pinching and rolling your nipples until they ache deliciously.

Another breath, another try, another plead, "I—" the words reman stuck in your throat.

Vi hums in acknowledgement and nips at your earlobe, tugging on it with her teeth before soothing the sting with her tongue. She tightens her grip on your wrists, pinning them above your head as she looms over you. Her other hand slips fully inside your panties, a single finger teasing through your slick folds.

"Don't waste my time, baby." Vi scolds, her voice low and disapproving. She circles your entrance, not yet delving inside, as if daring you to try harder. You know it's a lie because she'd fuck you all day yet you believe her just in that moment.

At your continued silence, Vi crushes her lips against yours in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue. She swallows your whimpers and moans, refusing to let you make a sound until she allows it.

Breaking the kiss, Vi's eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, leaning in at the sound of your mumble, "Hm?"

"Ple— nothing"

She rolls her eyes and presses a single finger tip against your entrance, the slightest bit of pressure that has you clenching around nothing, aching to be filled. You still had a massive ego so you still protested against her requests.

Now she was pissed, she started this for shits and giggles but your stubborn and bratty behaviour was getting on her nerve. She loved you. Yes. But as someone who had to work for everything in her life, this attitude was got gonna be tolerated.

"Need'a lesson? Sure, I'll fucking give it to you." Her jaw clenched before roughly shoving two fingers knuckle-deep inside your dripping cunt. They pump in and out at a punishing pace, curling against that special spot inside you that makes your toes curl, her thumb finding your clit and rubbing merciless circles over the sensitive bud.

It is when she kisses down your neck when you break, you needed that closeness, and she gave it to you unknowingly, you didn't want her to be genuinely mad at you but she is and yet she still cares to not hurt you.

"More, please?" It's quiet but you said it. And it counted for Vi, she would've done worse but seeing the look in your eyes stopped her. Despite her tough act, she was a pushover when it came to you.

Vi smiles at your attempted plea, her fingers never ceasing their relentless assault on your dripping cunt. "Finally," she sighs, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Took long enough."

She scissors her fingers inside you, stretching your walls as her thumb rubs tight circles around your throbbing clit. Vi leans down to capture your nipple between her teeth, biting down just hard enough to make you yelp before soothing the sting with her tongue. (oral fixation evidence)

"I think there's more for you to say though," she murmurs against your tits, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine. Whimpers turn to moans, and the air is starting to get hot.

Vi's other hand releases your wrists, only to grab your hip in a bruising grip, holding you in place as she grinds her palm against your aching core. She pistons her fingers in and out of your clenching heat, curling against that special spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids.

"Please, Vi!" you cry out, too far gone to care about the desperation in your voice. "Please fuck me. Please? I'll be good? P-Promise!"

Your hips buck against her hand, chasing the pleasure only she can give you. Vi chuckles, the sound vibrating through you as she redoubles her efforts, fucking you harder and faster with her fingers.

"That's it, baby. Take it," she murmurs, her eyes glaring into yours, almost in validation for how she's doing a good job at making you feel good. Because deep down Vi needs that and if she has to fuck you till the sun rotates twice. She will.

strap!vi part two.

[womenwoso]

Thank you so much for the kind words on my last fic. It's really appreciated. Thank you to @helen-with-an-a for being amazing and proofreading. Hope you enjoy and requests are open. Please send in ideas.

Hard questions

Mapí León was perched on the edge of the sofa, her eyes showing her exhaustion after a long day of practice. Fresh from a shower, her damp hair was wrapped in a towel when Clara burst into the room, her little face beaming with excitement.

“Mamí!” Clara exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “I saw a picture of you in your Spain jersey at school today! You looked so happy, like me when I play football with you and all my tias. When do I get to play with them again? Why don’t you play for Spain anymore, do you not love Spain?

Mapí paused, Clara was in the stage of asking questions constantly, but this question hung in the air like a heavy cloud. She had anticipated this moment. Clara was getting old enough to ask tough questions—ones that carried a lot of history, choices, and feelings that Mapí had kept to herself but she hadn’t expected this question just yet.

For a brief moment, Mapí was silent, just gazing at her daughter, who was looking back at her with wide, innocent eyes, eager for a response.

“Clara, honey,” Mapí began gently, pulling her onto her lap, “It’s not that I don’t love playing for Spain anymore. I’ve always loved it. I still do.”

Clara tilted her head, clearly puzzled. “Then why don’t you play with my tias? You’re the best player! Tia Ale plays for Spain, so does Aita, Patri, Jana and Irene. All the girls play for a country there's a lot of countries more than just Spain. It's so cool. ”

Mapí let out a soft laugh, gently pushing a lock of hair away from Clara’s forehead. “You know, being the best doesn’t always cut it. Football is more than just skills—it’s about the teammates, the environment, and how you feel … on the inside.”

Clara looked puzzled, her little brain trying to process the information. “But … but you’re amazing, Mamí! You helped Spain win! Why wouldn’t they want you anymore?”

Mapí felt a weight in her chest. She had kept the real reasons for stepping back from the national team to herself, not wanting to overwhelm Clara with the complicated details. But now, her daughter deserved honesty, even if it was tough to share.

“Sometimes, Clara,” Mapí said, her voice thick with feeling, “sometimes the people in charge don’t treat you the way you should be treated. They don’t do their jobs properly and might end up hurting people. They might not recognise your worth. And when you feel that way for too long, it gets hard to keep going. When something like that happens, iIt hurts. And when something hurts, you have to think about what’s best for you.”

Clara paused, clearly processing everything. Mapí could see the little gears working in her brain. “So... you left … because they were … mean? … to you?”

Mapí gazed into her daughter’s eyes, so similar to her own, feeling a pang in her heart. “Sí carino, something like that. But it’s not just about being nice. It’s about feeling valued and … and being respected. Football is all about teamwork, but it is also based on trust and support. When those things are missing, it gets really tough to keep playing.”

Clara seemed to ponder this for a while, a little crinkle forming in her brow. Finally, she asked, “Are you going to go back?”

Mapí offered a gentle smile, a blend of sadness and hope shining in her eyes. “I’m not sure, nena. Sometimes, people need a little time to heal before they can return to something and sometimes you have to step away so the changes that need to be made can happen. Right now, I’m focusing on Barça and making sure I’m in a good place, where I can be the best version of myself …  the best Mamí I can be for you. I can’t promise I’ll ever play for Spain again, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love the game or my country. I do. Always.”

Clara looked up at her mom, her tiny hands resting on Mapí’s arm. “I want you to play for Spain again. I want to see you in the jersey.”

Mapí’s heart warmed, her daughter’s words reminding her of the love that kept her going every day. “Maybe one day, pequeña. Maybe one day.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the heaviness of their talk hanging in the air. Mapi realised that Clara didn’t grasp everything completely, but she could see the love and hope shining in her daughter’s eyes. And honestly, that was enough for now.

With a gentle kiss on Clara’s forehead, Mapí pulled her in for a tight hug. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my biggest supporter. That’s what really counts.”

Clara beamed, resting her head on her mom’s shoulder. “I’ll always cheer for you, Mamí. Forever.”

[currentfandomkick]

Ridiculous idea below:

Duke can admit to feeling bad about Danny being left with the zombies that everyone became during an Arkham breakout. He didn’t mind hanging out with him when he had the time, but he does have the day shift and is the only one with it.

The visit was pretty random, and no one really was focusing on a ‘why’ Bruce’s cousin Jack sent his son there, or why the kid had asked to go.

Because Danny didn’t care for the rich part. Boy was working poor through and through and winced when prices were mentioned. Duke understood, as did Jason.

He did note that Jason and Danny had some weird tension between them, but that wasn’t his business.

And Danny didn’t care for Gotham. When Duke asked why he came for a visit, Danny had mentioned his sister wanting him to have more family, but Jazz hadn’t come along to bond with them too.

Duke had most of his initial theories scorched as why this random relative may be visiting, and one of the looser idea confirmed on day ten.

“Fuck me this shit never comes out.”

Duke opened Danny’s door without thinking.

Danny was bleeding green. Neon green from his hand. There was red in there too. But a lot of green.

“Fuck me—Alfred shouldn’t have to put up with this crap.”

“Danny,” Duke began slowly, closing the door behind him.

Things were making sense. When they first met Danny had been a bit spooked about the question about the scar on his arm and up his neck. The others said there wasn’t one, and Duke dropped it. His future sight was acting up pr something about a possible future.

It wasn’t the future. Past event. One that made Danny meta.

Did his parents know? Was this them brushing it under the rug, planning to cut off support? Or was Jazz predicting that option and sent Danny to them as a possible safetynet for him?

Danny winced, deer in headlights and shoved his comforter and hand behind him.

“Heeeey Duke, how was your shift?”

“It was okay, you need any help with the paper cut and stain?”

Danny was twitchy now. Probably hadnt planned on telling them. Made sense—Duke knows he’s the only one Danny hung out with since coming here.

“Uh, it, it doesn’t come out. And i have to use the Fenton Fishing Line or else the bandages dissolve.”

Duke nodded along, slowly grabbing his phone and put it on speaker.

“Hey Alfred, can you help me stitch up Danny? He’s like me but different meta gene expression.”

“Right away Master Duke.”

“Thanks Alfred.”

Danny looked cornered, but Duke pulled him to the bed and sat him down. “Hey, its okay. Bruce has seen me accidentally flashbang the house because i was half awake and spooked when one of them showed up over my shoulder? Most he’ll do is get help for controlling any secondary abilities you have and accommodating it with medical BS from the family doctor. He’s cool. You’re safe.”

Danny was clearly shutting down. Fear response or overwhelmed—signs of quiet panic attack. Shit.

“Just breathe with me, okay? In two three hold two three out two three.”

Duke stayed with Danny as they kept on going. He knew telling Bruce was important, but that’s not what Danny needed.

“Some of the family was there when my powers started up. They are cool with it—even the weird vision thing i have. I’m going to guess that scar on your arm isn’t visible to you?”

“…not if i don’t transform.”

Duke nodded at that, glancing over at Alfred as he came in and assessed the situation.

“Master Danny, may I see the wound?”

“Just wear heavy duty gloves… my blood can uh, dissolve things depending on what i eat and i was not tracking my acid intake.”

“Very well. Does this happen often?”

“No, cardboard got me when i was opening a package. Friend sent me a care package.”

Alfred hummed, taking the spool of fishing line and threading it before he began to stitch up the side of Danny’s finger.

“That is very thoughtful of them.”

“Yeah, Sam and Tucker sent me some things i kind of need—less uh, ectoplasm in the air that i can process than expected.”

“That you can process Master Danny?” Alfred prodded carefully.

Danny looked to Duke.

Duke nodded.

“I sort of hadn’t run into corrupted ecto before and uh, purifying it is harder than i thought. So my friends sent some that i can take without my stomach eating itself or my blood canibalizing itself and my organs start shutting down.”

Duke’s stomach clenched at the thought.

“Which is, not good. I can make a purifier but i needed them to send parts and ecto until then. I can usually make my own but uh, not able to now for reasons.”

Duke nodded along. “Like make like cookies or make like vitamin d?”

“Vitamin D. Its uh, complicated. Either be around my friends or stargazing does the trick. Sometimes being with my parents or helping the ghosts back home does it too.”

Duke catalogued the ‘ghosts’ part for a later date.

“Anything else you may need while here?”

“…do you have heating blankets? Sometimes my abilities go real icy and i stop producing heat and ice over. I only overheated one time after getting hit with a lot of lightning and no way to cool down.”

The Nappers

Dpxdc Prompt #10

Danny was really excited to spend the summer with his second cousin(?) he didn't really remember, but apparently Jack Fenton's cousin was Gotham billionaire Bruce Wayne, a serial adopter.

Jazz had discovered the connection and gave him a call to see if he'd mind Danny staying over for summer because Danny decided he was going to tell his parents at the end of summer about his ghost problem, and Jazz wanted him to have a safety net.

He didn't really have a big family at home, with his parents being largely... absent and Jazz moving to Gotham for college. It would be great to be in a house that wasn't empty again.

Now if only his newly discovered family could stay awake long enough for Danny to talk to them.

"So how's living with our cousins?" Jazz asked him through his Fenton-phone. He flopped onto his bed and groaned.

"They're all seem nice but I haven't really seen enough of them to know yet."

"Danny, you've already been there a week, shouldn't you know them at least a little bit? You usually warm up to people quickly, as long as they aren't trying to kill you."

"Man I kinda wish they were out to get me, then I'd probably see more of them than I have already."

"..."

"..."

"Okay Danny walk me through our family, and what you know so far about them."

"Well first there's Dick, he apparently lives in Bludhaven and supposedly comes back to Gotham to visit fairly often, haven't seen any of him yet though."

"Then there's Jason, I've seen him come over after dinner a couple of times, but he's seemed in a really bad mood and I'm getting weird vibes from him so I haven't talked to him much yet either."

"Cass, Steph, Tim, Damian, and Bruce are the ones that actually live here at the manor and outside of when I first arrived I haven't actually seen them awake enough to talk to me. Anytime I've caught a glimpse of them they're taking naps and I'd feel bad waking them up, Tim especially (he looks like he needs the rest)."

"What are they, nocturnal or something?

"That's what I thought too! But the Manor is even more dead during the night than the day. If I had wanted to live with a bunch of zombies I'd have spent summer in the zone, not come all the way here."

"The only people that have stayed awake long enough for me to actually get to know them are Duke and Alfred! Duke's great, but he seems to have a day job so I only see him for breakfast and dinner and any time I can catch him before he sleeps after. Alfred's amazing, but he already has so much to do around the Manor, I feel bad bothering him."

"It is only the first week you're there, and there was a huge Arkham breakout your first day so everybody around Gotham is a bit tense while the Bats are trying to recatch everyone. Could you give it another week for me? See if it'll be an option for if our parents react badly?"

"For you, Jazz, I'll give it another week, but I can't just trade one empty house for another."

"Thanks, little brother."

"Love you, Jazz, bye."

Danny hung up the phone and sighed, he new there was something off with his cousins, but he couldn't quite place it. Constantly napping, disappearing during the nights, but always on guard when they were awake.

He had a week to figure it out, but if he didn't there'd be no real lost love. He'd come up with some excuse, stay with Jazz for the summer or something. If his parents reacted badly and he didn't have this safety net, it'd be difficult sure, but Danny and Jazz would figure it out.

Danny thought it would be nice to have some other family that had his back for once, but hey, maybe he just had shitty luck when it came to blood relations.

[carnalcrows]

HOW TO STEAL A MAN (AND HIS GROCERY LIST)

pairing: gi-hun x top male reader

synopsis: When Gi-hun’s late-night cat-feeding routine attracts a stalker with a cart full of cat food and questionable social skills, chaos—and maybe romance—ensues.

content warnings: 18+, top male reader, stalking, blowjobs (reader receiving), missionary, unprotected sex, breeding, creampie, reader wants to get gi-hun pregnant asap, age gap (reader is in his 20s and gi-hun is in his 40s).

word count: 2.2k

A/N: ty anon for the request!! i had fun writing this one

Seong Gi-hun’s life wasn’t glamorous. Every evening, after whatever sorry excuse for a day he’d had, he stopped at the corner store, bought a packet of cheap cat food, and made his way to a run-down alley to feed a scruffy stray. It was the one bright spot in his life, and he looked forward to it more than he cared to admit.

What he didn’t know was that someone else looked forward to it too.

That someone was you.

You first noticed Gi-hun a few weeks ago while wandering through the neighborhood. At first, you thought he was just some random guy lingering in the alley, but then you saw him crouch down and pour food into a chipped saucer. His voice was soft as he spoke to the stray cat, coaxing it to eat.

It was... oddly endearing.

From then on, you couldn’t help yourself. You started following him—not in a creepy way (okay, maybe a little creepy)—but you were curious. Who was this man? Why did he care so much about a stray cat?

Your fascination grew, and soon, watching him feed the cat became part of your routine. But you wanted more than to just watch. You wanted to talk to him. To know him.

One evening, as you watched Gi-hun walk into the corner store, you got an idea. A foolproof, albeit slightly unhinged, plan. You hurried inside ahead of him, grabbed every single packet of cat food off the shelf, and went to pay, ignoring the cashier’s confused look.

When Gi-hun arrived at the pet aisle, you lingered near the exit, pretending to browse.

“What the…?” Gi-hun muttered, staring at the empty shelf. He rubbed the back of his neck, sighed, and turned to leave, only to almost bump into you.

You were standing there with a massive bag filled with cat food packets.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” you said, pretending to be startled.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re the reason the shelf is empty?”

“I feed a lot of strays,” you said innocently, though the amusement in your voice probably gave you away.

Gi-hun raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “You think I could buy one of those off you? There’s a stray I feed every night, and now I’m empty-handed.”

You pretended to think about it, then smiled. “I’ll give you one… if you let me come with you. I’d like to meet the cat.”

He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line as he considered your request. Finally, he sighed. “Fine. But don’t scare it off, okay?”

That’s how it all started.

What was supposed to be a one-time thing turned into a routine. Every evening, you’d meet Gi-hun at the corner store, walk with him to the alley, and sit on the curb while the stray cat ate. Over time, you learned bits and pieces about him: his failed marriage, his gambling problems, and most importantly, his love for his daughter, Ga-yeong.

“She’s all I have left,” he admitted one night, his voice soft.

You nodded, unsure what to say. It was clear how much he cared for her, even if he didn’t always show it in the best ways.

As weeks passed, you also got to know Ga-yeong, who was surprisingly cool for a kid. She started teasing her dad about how much time he spent with you.

“Are you two dating yet?” she asked one evening, smirking as she watched you and Gi-hun prepare dinner.

Gi-hun spluttered. “W-what? No! We’re just friends.”

“Sure, Dad,” she said, winking at you.

You laughed, enjoying how flustered he got.

One rainy evening, you were at Gi-hun’s apartment again, helping him cook dinner. The kitchen was small and cramped, but it felt cozy with the two of you working side by side.

As you chopped vegetables, you glanced at him. “You know, you’re not half bad at this.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I’m just saying,” you teased. “You’re full of surprises.”

Gi-hun smiled, but when he noticed you staring, his brow furrowed. “What? Do I have sauce on my face or something?”

“Nothing,” you said, setting the knife down. “I just… I’ve been wanting to do something for a while now.”

Before he could ask what, you stepped closer, your heart racing. Gi-hun froze like a deer in headlights, his hand awkwardly holding a ladle full of stew.

“What are you—”

You cupped his face with both hands and kissed him.

At first, he didn’t move, his eyes wide with surprise. But as you pressed into him, his shoulders relaxed, and the ladle clattered to the counter. Slowly, tentatively, he kissed you back, his lips warm and soft against yours.

It started gentle, careful, like he was afraid to mess it up. But as the seconds ticked by, something shifted. He leaned into you, his hands nervously gripping your waist, pulling you closer. You smiled against his lips, enjoying how hesitant he was, even as his breathing grew heavier.

“Relax,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his. “You’re doing fine.”

“I—I don’t—” he stammered, but you cut him off with another kiss, this one deeper, more insistent.

Gi-hun let out a muffled sound of surprise, his hands fumbling as they slid up your back. His inexperience was endearing, and it only made you want to kiss him harder.

Somehow, the two of you ended up pressed against the counter, the dinner long forgotten. Gi-hun’s hair was an absolute mess from your hands running through it, and his cheeks were flushed a deep red.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours.

“Good,” you said with a grin, leaning in to steal another kiss.

The smell of burning stew eventually snapped the two of you out of it, but not before you got one last, lingering kiss. As Gi-hun scrambled to salvage dinner, muttering curses under his breath, you leaned against the counter, watching him with a satisfied smirk.

“I like you,” you said casually, making him freeze mid-stir.

He turned to look at you, his expression somewhere between flustered and incredulous. “You think?”

“I know,” you corrected. “And I think you like me too.”

Gi-hun sighed, his lips quirking into a small, shy smile. “Yeah... maybe I do.”

You laughed, reaching out to tug him back toward you. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Your mouth found his once more, and you slowly lifted the man onto the countertop. He yelped in surprise, and you used the opportunity to slide your tongue, relishing in how he tasted.

His hands gripped onto your shoulders, while you held his waist, steadying him. You slowly trailed butterfly kisses from his jow to his neck, stopping at his Adam’s apple before lightly nipping on his ear lobe.

Gi-hun was still quite unsure of what he was supposed to be doing, not having engaged in such…activities for far too long.

“You do want to do this right? We can stop the moment you tell me to,” you said to him, your tone soft. After a second of pondering, he gripped your shoulders with determination, and latched his mouth right onto yours.

You took it as a sign to continue, and slowly broke away the kiss to close the stew before continuing to have your way with him.

You slowly picked him up from the countertop and carried him to the couch, revelling in how surprised you were. Carrying those giant bags of cat food was worth it.

You laid him on the couch gently, its base creaking with the sudden weight. Gi-hun hastily pushed your pants down, tugging at the strap for a few seconds before it made way. Your cock sprang out, hard and leaking.

His eyes widened, and he looked up at you. Your eyes were soft, letting him know that this didn’t have to continue if he didn’t want it to.

Before you could say anything, he licks a stripe across your length, savouring the musk emitting from the base. You let out a groan, gripping onto his hair–but not too tight; not yet.

You let him experiment with your dick, leaving small kisses along the underside, while his hand moves up to clutch your balls, heavy with your seed. He wonders to himself on how your cum would feel inside him, and the thought makes his ears burn a bright red.

“Don’t take this long darlin’, wanna please you too,” you mumble, wanting him to speed up just a little bit.

He slowly wraps his pretty lips around the tip of your cock, making you let out a garbled moan. His mouth was just so, so warm.

“Breathe through your nose baby, that’s it,”you cooed, watching him struggle to take your length all the way.

He slowly bobbed his head up and down, savouring the precum hitting the back of his throat. Your moans were getting louder and louder, to the point where you had to muffle the noises with the back of your hand. The walls of his house were quite thin.

Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes as he struggled to swallow you whole. Your grip on his hair had gotten significantly tighter, as you push his head to take you all the way. His garbled mumbles did nothing but send vibrations straight up your dick, turning you on even more.

“So good f’me baby, I’m almost done,”you groan before releasing your grip on his hair and pulling out of his warm throat, before ejaculating all over his face. 

He looked up at you in shock, his face a mixture of tears, sweat and semen. It truly was a sight to see. Your dick stood right back up.

His eyes widened, but before he could say anything, you quickly turned him around on the couch, his ass up towards you.

You pulled his pants down, along with his boxers, to reveal his tight hole, clenching around the cold air. He hissed when he suddenly felt a finger at his hole, slick with lube (where did that come from).

“This might hurt a lil’ bit,” you said before slowly pressing your finger into his hole. His back arched with the intrusion, the pain mixed with the pleasure going straight to his cock, the tip red and weeping.

You slowly added another finger, watching as his ass practically swallowed them whole as you pumped them in and out.

After adding a third finger, you deemed that he was prepped enough to be fucked. He already looked out of it, that was a different thing altogether. His shoulders were slumped and his elbows were the only thing keeping him upright.

You positioned you cock at his entrance, and slowly slid in, groaning at how tight and inviting his hole was, as if it was made just for your dick.

Gi-hun let out a loud moan, it was almost pornographic. He had never felt this full in his life– your cock was almost ripping him in half!

You bottomed out all the way to the hilt, and you slowly started to move, whispering dirty nothings in the older man’s ear.

“How does it feel, getting fucked by a man half your age, hm?” Gi-hun could only blabber at this, his brain could no longer form coherent words as his mind was so focused on how your cock was hitting the right spot with every. single. thrust.

You felt his hole mould into the shape of your cock, and every time you hit his prostate, his moans got more high pitched. One of your hands caressed his stomach, and you were surprised to find his belly bulging with every thrust. He squealed when he felt it, his brain was feeling so empty. 

“Y’know Gi-hun, your daughter must be quite lonely, considering that she is an only child. Wanna give Ga-yeong a sibling?” you teased, to which he could only moan, his head filled with the thought of you making him pregnant with your seed. The thought didn’t seem too bad.

To this, you lifted him up and sat on the couch with him on your lap, his back to your chest. You lifted his legs up in such a way that every single time you lifted him up and dropped him back on your lap, your dick would hit places he didn’t even know existed.

He threw his head back, eyes rolling to the back of his head with the vigour of your thrusts, fucking into him like you were an animal in heat. At this point, it really felt like you were trying to get him pregnant. A man couldn’t biologically get pregnant, but all rational thought had flown out the window, and who said you couldn’t try?

As your thrusts started to stutter, you knew you were at a climax, so when Gi-hun came with a cry, painting his abdomen white, you pushed into him all the way to his imaginary womb before coming undone with a loud groan, painting his gummy walls a pearly white.

You kept your cock in him for a while, letting him relax. His hole clenched and unclenched around your dick, while only spurred you on even more.

Gi-hun turned around to face you lazily, but with surprise, as he felt your cock harden in him once again.

“We can’t stop yet love, I need to give you a baby after all,” you smirked before pushing Gi-hun back down onto the couch.

He was fucked.

And somewhere out there, a stray cat was probably wondering why its dinner was late.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.

[thewisestdino]

MS Paint Spotify Request Retrospective

I did 19 in total this year!! I think next year I will try and cool down how many I did. I got these done while working insane hours at my holiday retail job, during the holidays so I had a lot of family/friend obligations, and did a little traveling in the middle. Plus I had a fair amount of freelance projects between all of this - whew. It was a fun way to unwind at night but man oh man.

And I think a big reason for the less amount and longer time period is the amount of effort I put into each piece. For example - heres a crowfeather request I did the first time I did this challenge versus now. I don't think this change of effort makes the pieces better or worse per say, but it does change the scope I can do and stories I can tell.

I tried to focus on different compositions, colors and storytelling for this years pieces. I also got to do a few more fandoms - aftg, wof, and warrior cats. Warrior cats will always be the most popular here but its fun to branch out. Decided against including supernatural and mlp this year because I thought it would be too much.

I kept track of requests in my sketchbook - if you want an idea of how many different requests I got. (i read them all, track them all, but I cannot do them all. I appreciate all the sweet messages I get with them though!)

I didn't like a lot of pieces I did this year (as per usual), BUT My person favs this year are these two >

Anddd Heres the playlist:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/54XBggmYpO50fwIxGm1UdJ?si=be5c5024fe674c0d

Did you guys have a favorite piece? Pick up any new songs? I always love doing these requests so I hope yall enjoyed too

[dailyrothko]

what drew you to Rothko? Do you have a favorite Rothko painting? Have you seen it in person?

I think it's an interesting question. I don't really know what draws me to anything, it usually doesn't have a linear voyage into my consciousness. I did go to museums as a young person and I am sure I saw Rothko paintings before I was aware who it was. You know how it is, something about it speaks to you and there you are.

As a young teenager, I listened to Ornette Coleman. This was in addition to other stuff I liked like Bob Dylan, the Buzzcocks, Brian Eno, Desmiond Decker, etc. I did not have a single friend that liked jazz, especially THAT kind if jazz. It may have been entirely for the fact that I went into a record store and bought this record

I bought it because it looked to me like these people were serious about this endeavor and I should take note. I brought it home and it made sense to me. And it was similar with Rothko, I know by age 14 I made Morris Louis, Rothko and Pollock Easter eggs and not many years after that, I had this poster in my room

It may have been the minimal aspect that got me. It was so different from all the other art I knew.

I don't have a favorite Rothko painting though yesterday I did link some ones I like. Now I have seen a large number of his paintings in person, but of the first I was conscious of seeing up close was this one:

and it definitely was pretty cool.

It's a puzzle to discern why people like things. You can really admire an artist's work and then find out you hate every artist they champion.

It's a little different when you're young and what your taste is. is also a way of sorting out your peers and making friends. You find connections, we all like Evil Dead, or we like the Clash and hate Phil Collins. It's a way weeding out and identifying yourself.

Later on, I think you get open to the idea that it's more individual, and, importantly, that that's allowed. In a sense you have kinship with people because they have the soul to cultivate their interests. You don't both have to like the same exact things. Every artist has good and bad work and I think we accept that more later in life when you get them off a pedestal and it doesn't diminish them, there's often things to love even in the bad work, you just wouldn't die as many deaths for it.

The best friend to have is an enthusiast. I often say the same thing, so forgive me, but the way I look at it is, it's not about one artist or one art form. We're all just trying to be amazed.

[fandomsfordays21]

My "Ink Sans" AU

So, I've had this idea for a while, but I'm sharing it now due to my mutuals @mrgrimreaper1 and @t3m1 encouraging me, and because they shared their own ocs. (Go check them out Sketch!Sans is pretty cool)

Basically, I was thinking a bit too hard about Ink's backstory, and I started feeling really bad about the others in his universe. This was especially true for his Papyrus, since he was the only other person in _____!tale that showed any form of emotions.

Then I got onto a train of thought about Ink's creator specifically. We know they dropped the idea of Ink's universe when drawing became a chore, leaving the sketches unfinished, but nothing else about them. I got to thinking, what if Ink's creator was to come back? What if they came back and finished I _____!tale after Ink was gone?

That brings us to Sketchtale, also known as the Completed Concept AU for those outside of the UTMV.

For the basics, Sketchtale is the universe that _____!tale was supposed to be, or at least a reworked version of it. The Creator, after a long while, rejoins the Undertale Fandom and decides to revisit their unfinished au from all that time ago. The name "Sketchtale" is meant to reference that it was left as a sketch for a long time.

Sketchtale is a universe based entirely off of art and multiple art forms, each area of the Underground being based off of certain mediums.

Ruins: Sculpture, carvings, engravings, mosaics.

Snowdin: Graphite and colored pencil, crayon, marker, charcoal.

Waterfall: Watercolors, paints of any variety, resin.

Hotland: Glassblowing, pottery, metalworking. (Art done with/using technology is also found here, but it's more common around the CORE and is not the main art medium.)

New Home/The castle: Knitting, sewing, crotchet, quilt and clothes making.

I'll make posts about individual characters later, but Monsters as a whole have some unique qualities that are important to know.

Monsters in Sketchtale have colored SOULs, with each monster having 1 or 2 unique colors. These colors are not Traits, like they are in Humans, and are instead types of Magic. Each color has specific abilities, with having more than one color being both rare and powerful. (Most bosses in the game have dual-colored SOULs.) A monster who has absorbed 7 Human SOULs gains a special, incredibly powerful SOUL type, called a Prism SOUL or God SOUL, that can use all colors at once.

A Monster's Magic will express its color(s) by binding to one or more specific utensils or mediums, which will be used in battle. (Imagine every Monster in Sketchtale as having their own Broomie, or having the specific paint magics.)

I'll have a separate post with diagrams and charts once I draw them, but I hope this post is clear enough to understand. This is just a very basic rundown of the AU, so if anyone has questions or wants specific details about Sketchtale, my askbox is open.

This is kind of a half-baked idea for now, so things are open to change and I will have to finish developing certain details and characters, but I'm willing to keep working if you guys like this idea. I have a lot of cool stuff planned for the Sans (Doodle) and Papyrus (Sketch) of this au and some angst ideas that I'm excited to share, so stay tuned!

[ofdarklands]

since i leave work a bit earlier this week and i had fun last time, i thought we could do another raffle!

i'll leave it open until i leave work in uh, 6 hours or so. no making me draw mitr'a this time 🫵🏻! i already draw him enough by myself... unless the idea is really cool i guess. some other character of mine is fine though, if you have no other oc or topic you want to pick

aside from that, same details as last time, but for this second raffle please reply something with lantern in it instead!

i am aware this isn't the best posting hour but i want there to be enough time… guess we'll see

[rpmemes-galore]

Gracie Abrams : The Secret of Us album ... sentence starters

"I'm not proud."

"I love you, I'm sorry."

"I feel like I could die."

"I push my luck, it shows."

"I was a dick, it is what it is."

"I can't pretend that I'm sorry."

"Is this how you see me now?"

"I know everything they don't."

"You'll be my favorite mistake."

"It took all of me to walk away."

"You felt nice for a bad decision."

"I felt good about you 'til I didn't."

"You're the risk, I'm gonna take it."

"I've lived a lot, I've loved and lost."

"I might not feel real, but it's okay."

"God, I'm jumping in the deep end."

"You had the wrong idea about me."

"You're the saddest, but a good kid."

"That's your prize, that's your prize!"

"Did it just to hurt me, make me cry."

"Don't love you yet, but probably will."

"Don't worry, I know I'll see you again."

"I guess it's always funny until it's not."

"Calm down, maybe, baby, calm down."

"Trust me, I know it's always about me."

"Watch this be the wrong thing, classic."

"You could be bad, but I wanna find out."

"Smiling through it all, yeah, that's my life."

"Here's to hoping you're worth all my time."

"I'm a walking contradiction, and it shows."

"Said that I was fine, said it from my coffin."

"I hate when we fight, sucks when we fight."

"Know you had a girl, but it didn't work out."

"You were the best, but you were the worst."

"I said I lied to your face, you can suck it up."

"We could die here together, I’d do it happily."

"You promised me this was real, but it wasn't."

"I know what you arе, brighter than the stars."

"Said I wouldn't do it, but I hunted you down."

"You don't know how to step outside yourself."

"You start to let me in, but then you shut it off."

"You can just talk, and I'll stare at your mouth."

"I don't got a single problem with provocative."

"I laughed the second he tried to call my bluff."

"Guess I'm just scared of you shooting it down."

"This isn't what you want, it's only how you feel."

"I'm thankful you don't send someone to kill me."

"I hope that you get everything you could ask for."

"Was I just a placeholder to fill the hole inside you?"

"I had a backbone made of glass, and then it broke."

"You promised me that you'd call, but you never did."

"If she's got a pulse, she meets your standards, now."

"You really thought you would get what you wanted…"

"But I get the point, I see it all, you're something else."

"Don't you know the vibe? Don't you know the feeling?"

"There were nights I skipped out sleepin', 'cause of you."

"All my friends, they tried to stop me from wanting you."

"And if history's clear, someone always ends up in ruins."

"But I think that it's sweet, yeah, I think that you're sweet."

"I told the truth… oh, but you didn't like it, you went home."

"But I was never meant to listen, not until I found a reason."

"And all I did was right by me, I heard that almost killed you."

"Are your conversations cool? Like, are you even interested?"

"When did you slip through my fingers? Did I ever have you?"

"Got me where you want me, in your palm… it's almost funny."

"Got what you demanded, picture-perfect like you planned it."

"You never read up on it... shame, you could've learned something."

"And what seemed like fate… give it ten months and you'll be past it."

"And I can't lie and claim confused when I know just what happened."

"Held my breath for your reaction like the first time that we happened."

"And I hope you know I don't think you're a bad guy, that you're damaged."

"I've never craved someone's attention as much as yours, thought I should mention that."