#I saw the book in the background in one of the project photos on his website

[lifewithroseglasses]

Learning that my ex launched his design business with his best friend is sweet and I’m proud of him 🥲

[luvneymar]

(1) LOVE TO HATE ME — NEYMAR JR

— SUMMARY: You & Neymar both were booked for a suggestive underwear photoshoot, the only problem? You both hate each others guts.

PARINGS: young!neymar x female!reader & young!lucas paqueta x female!reader

NOTE: any examples doesn’t not represent the race, body type or skin-tone of the female lead.

— “Yes! Just like that! A bit more slutty and you’ll be perfect!” The casting director yelled at you from the background of your Calvin Klein campaign, You laughed hearing the last part as you posed on the set strutting your body in different ways.

In the recent years of you becoming a rising star in both the athletic world & the modelling world you’ve been booked & busy with these kinds of activities & activities. The one thing that sold the most was your partner shoots with another male athletes or actors.

The first time it happens it was by total accident when the director doubled booked 2 models at the same time but seeing how much money it brought in for you & the companies, you had to basically expect for some handsome famous guy to come & sweep you off your feet.

As you were posing the casting director stopped the photographer as he walked onto the set to whisper something into your ear,“Darling you know how much I love your smile but, we don’t need it here. Look fierce! Look alive! Look sexy!”

He begun to adjust your facial expression by pulling your bottom lip out just a bit to create a naughty but nice type of pout along with curling your eyelashes a bit more to make them look “doe-y” at one angle then “siren-y” the next.

Once he backed away and resumed the shoot you took his advice & begun to pose is much more suggestive ways; ways that your mother would’ve smacked you for if she saw the magazine you’d be front & center in.

“Lovely! That’s what I’m looking for!” He yelled out waving his hands around in an attempt to hype you up.

Soon the flashes stopped as he turned to the photographer looking at the photos he took to approve them, he sent an approval nod his way signalling the standby staff to clear the set & hand you a robe.

As you walked off the casting director engulfed you into a hug patting the back of your head, “You did great today, your next set is in your change-room. As you know that’ll be your collaborative project. Get excited”

You both exchanged cheek kisses before your waddled to change-room feeling exposed & quite cold actually. As you opened the door you immediately searched for the clothes you were going to wear.

Except you only found a pair of pants & the iconic Calvin Klein underwear, not a shirt in sight. You begun to look around trying to see if your shirt was misplaced. Or at-least a bra; you never signed up for a topless shoot.

“My set missing a—!” As you walked out of the change-room holding the “outfit” you were supposed to wear you locked eyes with non other than— Neymar Junior. Neymar fucking Junior.

The Neymar Junior who broke your nose in Secondary School, The Neymar who cut your hair in middle school, The Neymar Junior Santos who tripped you in the halls. That Neymar Junior.

“He’s the super hot athlete? Oh, just kill me now.” You yelled out throwing your arms in the air as you spun your heels speed walking towards your change room grabbing your manager by the arm digging your nails into his arm.

As you slammed the door you shoved him into the couch throwing the clothes on the table as you flopped down beside him, “Seriously? Seriously! You hyped this up so much I thought I was gonna do a shoot with the Stephen Curry.”

“Just listen—” He tried to explain, you slammed your finger onto his mouth signalling him not talk as you shook your head side to side very slowly with an evil scowl on your face.

“I’m having a moment here! I specially said anyone but him! Did you know he broke my—!” You explained flailing your arms in the air as you fell over on the couch resting your head on the armrest.

“Yes I know you’ve told the story a million times and more, to be fair you weren’t all the kind to him either.” He cut you off as he stood up from the couch, “I tried to reason with them but you both are very popular on the internet. You even have fanclub—”

“Ew! Don’t even mention that to me. I’ll just suck it up & hold my breath till I die on set & blame him for 1st degree murder.” You grumbled swinging your legs off the couch as you sat back up staring right at the wall blankly.

“Your loss. I personally think he’s kinda cute—!”

“Get out!” You shrieked throwing your pillow at him as he rushed out of the room laughing at your reaction. You got up & begun pacing around the room chewing on your thumb nail as you pondered about how you could even do this.

You weren’t even worried about Neymar as much as you were worried about your long-term boyfriend Lucas Paqueta seeing this. You half naked pressed against another man; his best friend according to the concept photos you were given.

“I’ll just explain it to him later. He knows how much I hate him anyways!” You took a deep breath shaking off any negative thoughts you had lingering in your mind as you begun to get dressed.

It didn’t take long since all you had to put on was a pair of underwear, jeans, & a pair of nipple covers. Thankfully they ate last provided you with that seeing as how you felt as if you were about to film a porno.

You walked towards the mirror hands held on your breasts as you looked up and down at your attire embarrassed look melted onto your face. “Neymar Junior is going to see my boobs.” You muttered out, in disbelief.

“Neymar Junior is going to see, my boobs! As you took in the fact you begun to laugh uncontrollably at the irony of the situation, your arch enemy since your birth is going to be touching your boobs; a place only a select few were even allowed to see.

You wiped the small tears forming at the corner of your eyes due to excess laughter as you pulled out of your phone from your pocket feeling it vibrate from a text that read.“We’re ready for you.”

You sighed saying a small prayer before walking out of the change-room hands covering your chest, as the shoes you were wearing made noise the casting director along with Neymar turned their heads to look at you. “Woman of the hour!”

“Yeah.” You nervously chuckled as you slowly made your way to the edge of the set, despite taking literal baby steps you made it there in a shorter time than you’d like, as you stood there staring straight ahead right past Neymar’s eyes that didn’t leave your body.

“Did you look at the concept photos?” The casting director asked you as you completely zoned out all the background noises, your heart begun to pound as you took in that this was really happening.

“Yeah I did.” You muttered out as you turned your head slowly towards the director awkward smile on your face as you felt Neymar’s gaze being branded onto your skin.

“Well we’re scrapping that one, this is what the first pose will be.” The casting director handed you a photo face down already making you suspicious, when you flipped the photo your eyes nearly flew out of your sockets.

“What the fuck is this!” You whispered shouted in disbelief as to what you were seeing, not only were you going to be literally topless, Neymar’s head was going to be resting: on your breasts.

You hadn’t even noticed that his hands were going to be resting on your ass. “We are not filming a porno! You’ve gotta change this now.”

“This is what is going to sell. It sold back then it’ll sell now. Come one darling, just this once. For me.” He pleaded with you grabbing you by your shoulders.

“No! Not unless you pay me millions! Even if you can You’re gonna owe me. Big time. largely.” Hearing that the director smiled at you before ushering you onto the set where you stood awkwardly beside Neymar who had a stupid smirk on his face. “Alright places everyone.”

Once you heard that you grit your teeth and furrowed your eyebrows as you eased onto the floor of the set, you hesitated before crawling into Neymar’s lap hands hovering just centimetres away from his waist with him doing the same cringing away from your body.

Just before the photographer begun to take photos the director begun to yell once again,“Ugh no no no! Hands on her waist, hands on his waist, look seductive, look like you want to fuck each other!”

You grew goosebumps just hearing that as you muttered under your breath “ew”, you rolled yo ur eyes looking away from Neymar’s annoyed gaze, “This is an underwear company! you’re advertising underwear! hands off your sides and pose!”

“Don’t think I’m enjoying touching your repulsive body, I’m doing this because I have too.” He muttered under his breath emphasizing the “repulsive” making your skin crawl.

“Your breath stinks.” You replied pinching him in his side as hard as you could, seeing him wince in pain gave you a weird boost of satisfaction, as you both bickered with the occasional pinch coming his way you both tuned our the director till he yelled.

“I’m not paying you both millions to look like constipated scorpions! Positions! Now!” He yelled out using the paper in his hand to fan his forehead which was sweating quite heavily, hearing him be so angry out of nowhere frightened you enough to relax just enough to look natural.

Once you both had relaxed easing into each other the rest of the set had gone smoothly with minimal arguing from both of your sides; especially your side since you were quite literally topless. “Wonderful Job guys! Your cheque’s will be emailed to you shortly.”

Once the set was clearing out you stood there waiting for your robe to be handed to you as you shivered, the studio was a lot colder than you had realized. As you were standing around you noticed Neymar hadn’t left quite yet & he was looking a bit red.

“Ew, Are you blushing? I know I have great boobs, but no need to get embarrassed y’know? I’m sure your girlfriend—”

“My God, Will you just shut up?” Neymar shouted at you as he begun to scratch his skin, little blotches of red begun to show on his skin— not that you’d notice them of course.

“Shut up? Did you just tell me to shut up? Do you want me to rip your jaw off? Or did you forget who you were talking too? You turned your body to face him as you looked him up & down with disgust & annoyance in your eyes.

As you were cussing him out you didn’t even notice he hadn’t given you a snarky response back or just pushed pasted you like he always did confusing you, as you took a closer look at him you noticed he was developing a skin rash; hives.

“What the fuck? What type of rash are you developing?” You asked as you backed away wrapping your robe around your body tightly, watching him scratch his body frantically grossed you out enough to just leave the set & go back to your change-room.

Just before you were able to set foot into your room you heard a loud boom, along with a shriek alarming you greatly. As you rushed towards the noise you were met with Neymar breathing heavily on the floor with his assistant all over him trying to find out what was wrong.

A crowd gathered around him as some people were calling the ambulance while others were helping in anyway they could, as you stood there looking at him try to take in a breath you spun your heels turning back to your room.

“What the absolute fuck is going on?” You muttered out backing away from the crowd as you slipped back into your change-room slamming the door before locking it, you slid down the door trying to figure out why that was happening.

As you wondered it had finally hit you, recently you were gifted a body-care set that was based upon real strawberries giving you a long lasting strawberry scent all day— the only problem? Neymar was severely allergic to them.

TAGLIST: @watersquirtpewpewboomm @neymaruposts @aniya7 @foolsarehome @abluvions 💕 (send a reply to be added to the taglist!)

ON HOLD

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[yuurei20]

Hi! I saw how some of your more recent posts discussed TWST more on the production side of the game and I was wondering if you knew anything about the artists who work on the game? Like the people behind the cards, backgrounds, and the models. I really love the art in the game and I've always wanted to know who the people behind it were.

I've been especially curious about the artist or artists behind the Broomquet cards regular and groovy art, but I wasn't sure where to find that out.

Hello!

Yes! If you visit the credits page in-game, there is a list of the names/aliases used by Yana's five creative assistants!

・Hioki Jun

Information: "Affiliated with creative studio D-6th. Responsible for writing/supervising event scenarios and vignettes for the game app 'Disney Twisted Wonderland.'" (ref: hmv.co.jp )

Hioki is also the author of the two Twisted Wonderland novels.

A search for "Hioki Jun" does not turn up any other work that they've done outside of D-6th, so this might be a pen name.

・Hazuki Wakana and Kowono Sumire

Information: Yana explains that Hazuki and Kowono "...are staff members involved in art production for background settings, cards, and more in the Twisted Wonderland app," in addition to being the illustrator and designer of the Heartslabyul and Octavinelle arcs of the ongoing manga series.

There do not seem to be any SNS accounts or other published works associated with the names "Hazuki Wakana" or "Kowono Sumire," so they might be aliases for use in their work with D-6th.

Yana says that they are both also staff members that have been working with her on her manga, Black Butler, for many years, and Hazuki is listed (along with Hioki Jun and Sorano Tsuki) in the credits of that manga. (There is a reason why "Hazuki" is being spelled "Haduki," but that would get into a looot of language talk.)

The two artists will sometimes have messages to fans posted through Yana's Twitter account, like at the conclusion of the Heartslabyu arc and the start of Octavinelle.

・7

Information: Was not able to find any information on the creative assistant using the pen name "7."

・Sorano Tsuki

Information: In addition to being a Black Butler collaborator and filling an unspecified role in the Twst game, Sorano is also one of the artists in the second anthology manga (far right, the story featuring Stargazer Trey and Deuce). I was not able to find anything else published under the name "Sorano Tsuki."

The Bloom/Broom Series

Yana says that she participated in concept design, costume design, and card art direction of the Bloom/Broom series, but the flowers used were special bouquets designed specifically for each character by a professional flower artist.

It is not specified that the flower artist was someone on the D-6th team, so it might have been someone that they brought on specifically for that one project.

In an episode of Twisted Radio Station it was explained that each bouquet is physically crafted and then reference photos are taken. They said that the illustrations are very detailed, with every petal and leaf individually drawn.

Bonus - Osakabe Wataru

Twst's logo designer / user interface designer / emblem designer / icon designer (etc) Osakabe Wataru designed the characters' personal emblems and club emblems that can be seen on their letterman jackets in the Birthday Jacket series.

They also contribute to the novels and manga (both serialized and the anthologies), other published works such as all three visual books and the Design Note, designed the logo for Twst Channel and anniversaries, the logo and emblem for the Night Ravens music group and do the monthly rotating advertisements in Tokyo Station.

Osakabe is a prolific graphic designer and, unlike Yana's assistants, their other work is very easy to find. Their website and portfolio are here:

[stayandot8]

One Day...

Genre: fluff

Relationship type: idol!Chan x actress!reader, best friends

Important Contents: Thank you for the idea, anon. It may not be exactly what you asked for but I couldn't get this scene out of my head. I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Who knows? Maybe there'll be a part two. We all know I love to write a part two... 😉... lmao that felt like an 'xoxo gossip girl' moment. someone save me

WC: 2.1k

masterlist l Part Two

Me: You promised to run lines with me. I’m outside, let me in

Chris: You have no manners. What if I wasn’t home and security saw you and forced you to leave?

Me: Let me in or I’m sending Minho that photo we took for Halloween last year.

“Okay, okay. No need for the big guns, alright?” As expected, Chris opened the door within seconds of my thumb hitting send. 

“Go big or go home.” I retorted, traipsing in through the doorway and planting myself on the couch. 

“I’d rather you go home. Don’t you have anyone else to run these with?” He shuffled over to me, sporting his trademark athletic shorts and black t shirt. So he’d been working? What else is new? 

“Are you saying that in your friend’s time of need, you won’t help her?” I flung myself across the couch with a delicately placed hand on my forehead, draping over the furniture. I heard a huff of air from the man in front of me as he was fighting his own smile. I sat back up, fighting one of my own. “Come on, Chan. I really need your help. I finally booked a serious drama after months of hosting stupid TV shows and this could be my breakthrough to be taken seriously. This could lead to some serious stuff one day! But I just can’t get these lines right on my own. I just peek at the paper if I mess something up and it ruins my whole flow. I need a scene partner. Please?” I gave him my biggest doe eyes and a smile so sweet it should’ve been used in Felix’s brownies. And like always, it worked. 

Chan rolled his eyes as he plopped down next to me and held out his hand for the stapled sheets of paper. I perked up, rummaging through my bag for the rumpled stack and placing it in his outstretched hand. He brought it to him and scanned the page, every so often lifting the top to scan the next, his brows drawing closer and closer together.

“This is a love scene!” He threw me his best disgusted face and dropped the pages in the space between us like it may bite him. 

“Do you know how hard it is to play a love scene when there’s no one acting in front of you? Acting is all about response, reactions. I can’t act if there’s nothing to react to!”

“You can barely a-”

“Don’t even finish the words I know you don’t mean.” I deadpanned to him, setting my jaw. He threw his hands up and at least had the decency to look mildly ashamed. 

“It was a joke. You know I think you’re great. The best.” He smiled at me, that tight-lipped smile he always had when he wasn’t saying the full truth. I always would mean to ask but he would change the subject too quickly. Like now. “What’s your character like anyways? I’ve never heard of this director before.” 

“Oh, the director’s name on the script isn’t the real one. It’s a fake that they wrote in so no one would know who was actually doing the project. Even I don’t know who it is. We start shooting in two days and I’m dying to know. I bet it’s someone super famous, someone no one would expect to do a project like this. Maybe a famous action director or something like that.” His lips were tucked into his mouth, fighting more laughter. I slapped his shoulder. “Stop laughing! Stop shitting on my dreams, okay? Just start at the top when you’re ready.” I shook out my limbs to loosen up and prepare for what was supposed to be the height of the series. The male love interest had just entered the airport where the female lead was leaving the country, taking a job offer elsewhere. He was calling her name, trying to find her and he spots her and runs to her. At least, this was the background I was giving Chan as his eyebrows rose higher and higher the more I went on. 

“Why doesn’t he just call her?” I rolled my eyes with such vigor, I strained them just a tad. 

“This drama takes place in the late 90s. They didn’t have phones like that. Now start reading where that line is drawn.” I closed my eyes to focus on the moment. I could see it in my head, on display in front of me. I was leaving my home, my country, to chase after my dreams. Or what I thought were my dreams, until I heard my name being shouted throughout the airport.

“Juna! Juna!” Chris whisper-shouted. He really was barely any help.

I mimed turning my head to where the source of the noise came from. There he was. My lover. My heart started racing. 

“You can’t just leave me like this. I won’t let you.”

“You have to let me go. This is my dream.”

“Are you sure about that? What about everything you said to me last night? And every night before that?”

“I meant it all. But I have to do this for myself. I owe it to her.”

“So you’ll throw away everything we have for - Wow, this guy’s a dick.” My head snapped to the boy beside me who was looking at the pages in his hands more closely. “He’s asking her to stay with him in the small town that she hates, just for him? Instead of following her dreams?”

“Yes. And then she leaves anyway and he follows her instead. Keep going.” I faced forward again, to the scene I had imagined. 

“Good! Good for her.”

“Yes. Yes it is good for her. Keep. Going.” Another sigh filled the room. I drowned it out again, going back into the scene. 

“So you’ll throw away everything we have for what? A stupid promise you made when you were twelve? You’ve grown up now. You’ve changed. You’ve changed me. Shouldn’t that count for something?”

“It’s not enough anymore. Please let me go, you’re only making this hurt more.”

“So I’m not enough for you, is that it? Is that what you tried to tell me last night?”

“It’s not you that isn’t enough. It’s this place. I need to go and see the world. See new places, meet new people. This city was what I needed two years ago. You’ve helped me see that. Now I need to go. My plane leaves soon, please don’t make this harder than it already is.” I could see it, my eyes filling with tears as he reaches for my hand and says the one thing I need to hear, the one thing he’s kept from me this whole time…

There was a long pause where there should’ve been words. I was shaken from my scene, waiting for Chris to say the next part. When he didn’t, I slowly looked over to him. He sat frozen, staring at the page. “I’m not saying this.”

“Why?” My tone was incredulous. 

“No one says things like this in real life.”

“Just because you’ve never been in love or had a girlfriend does not mean you know everything about it. In fact, it means the opposite.”

“But I know men. And they don’t just outright say things like this. It’s ridiculous.”

“Christopher, read me the line or so help me, I will make so much noise that I will wake up your entire building.”

“It’s not my fault you like to study your lines so late into the night.”

“That’s the only time you’re awake and free.”

“I wasn’t actually free, I was working on our new-” He was cut off by my sudden movement to his kitchen area. I started opening the cabinet with the pots and pans when he started fluttering the pages at me. “Okay, okay! See? Look, I’m ready to read now. Should I start here or somewhere else?” I nodded, satisfied, and returned to my seat. 

“Start a few lines back so I can work up to it again.” A small ‘so dramatic’ under his breath before he continued, which I dutifully ignored. 

“So you’ll throw away everything we have for what? A stupid promise you made when you were twelve? You’ve grown up now. You’ve changed. You’ve changed me. Shouldn’t that count for something?”

“It’s not enough anymore. Please let me go, you’re only making this hurt more.”

“So I’m not enough for you, is that it? Is that what you tried to tell me last night?”

“It’s not you that isn’t enough. It’s this place. I need to go and see the world. See new places, meet new people. This city was what I needed two years ago. You’ve helped me see that. Now I need to go. My plane leaves soon, please don’t make this harder than it already is.” 

“Even if you are the only thing in this world that makes me want to breathe? The only thing I want to do is be near you. Everyday. It is the only thing I look forward to. You are the only thing in my life that makes sense. Please don’t take it from me.” He pulls me closer for a kiss, which I allow. A final kiss. A final goodbye. Before I cup his cheek and turn away for good, one last tear trailing down my face. 

“I think I might be sick.” Chris and his upturned lip were still looking at the page. 

“Well, you’d better find a toilet then and let me read my lines in peace.”

“Is that all the practice you want to do? Are you sure?”

“If you’re going to make fun of my script, then yes. That’s all the practice I want to do. I’m just going to go over it a few more times in my head then I’ll leave.” I crossed my arms as I sat back, snatching the script back from him and gluing my eyes to it. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t making fun of you, you know that. I ‘mhm’d loud enough for him to hear without letting my eyes leave my script. “Okay then. Stay as long as you want. I’ll be in my room if you want to do it again. If you get done early, I’d love to show you a song we’re working on. It’s going to be a good one.” His voice went up an octave, knowing that teasing me with new music would definitely pull my forgiveness from me. And damn it, it always worked. 

“Okay, fine. But I want you good headphones!” I smirked at my pages, feeling triumphant for the umpteenth time in our friendship. I heard him shuffle back into his LED-lit cave and creak the door, leaving it cracked for me. Without the company of another person, my eyes suddenly felt very heavy. Okay, maybe just for a second…

Famous last words…

*

Where did that girl go? Did she leave without saying goodbye? Was I too harsh on her? I knew that joke was too much. God, Chris, you take it too far sometimes. 

I shuffled out of my room half an hour later and listened for any noise coming from the living room. I heard none. I called out her name. The first word for love I had ever known.

No reply. I ventured deeper until I heard the faint snores I’d come to love, becoming a constant for many years. Peering around the corner to see her slumped against the back of the couch with her mouth open and eyes shut, I shook my head as the Uncontrollable Grin took over. The same one that appeared when I saw her face the very first time. The one that fought its way onto my lips whenever she was near. Everyone else noticed it. But not her. She still had no idea. 

I somehow moved her to lay on her side without waking her, grabbed a blanket from my room, her favorite one, and threw it over her. Even asleep, she had too much strength. Taking the script from her hands was harder than it should have been. My work was beckoning to me again but I was drawn to her, as I always had been.  Watching her chest rise and fall in the darkness, the moon basking her in its light, I could see it. All on display in front of me. She, just having put the baby down for bed, if we had any, and not being able to make it to the bedroom, collapsing on the couch from exhaustion. I would carry her to the room and tuck her in, kissing her before I would have to go back to the studio. 

One day, I thought as I flipped the light switch.

One day.

masterlist

[camp-sky-heaven-on-earth]

Welcome to Camp Sky

Camp Sky is Camp Half-Bloods brother camp for the Chinese Demigods.

We are located at Flower Fruit Mountain.

To get to Flower Fruit Mountain, you gotta travel to Luoyang City in China and Ring the shrine bell that is labeled "Heavens Gate" or "天门" and Sun Wukong will come pick you up. If all gods are busy a spirit will open a portal for you to enter the camp that way.

DO NOT RING IF YOU ARE NOT A DEMIGOD THE SPIRITS THAT GUARD THE SHRINE WILL DEVOUR YOU RIGHT ON THE SPOT.

Greek, Norse, or Japanese demigods has to ring the visitor bell (the tiny one next to the main 天门 bell)

We usually do not have quests -our brother camp usually takes care of those- But if so we send the oldest/strongest to accompany the chosen one for the quest.

This blog is run by @yue-the-moons-child/@koiyan-hades-kid-with-a-system

Now let us introduce the camp councelers! (if any photos changed from the last time you saw it, it was because the artist doesn't like reposts of their art)

Sun Wukong

arts in order by: @ shadow_painter and @ T0ffeeC0w on Twitter/X

Yoyoyo! I'm Sun Wukong, the monkey god of trickery, the activities director of Camp Sky, and the main rallyer of Chinese Demogods My partner in crime is Macaque, and my own children. Call on me for any help if I ain't busy

Why I'm here? I may have pissed off the Jade Emperor again and the Gold Star of Venus had to save my ass again and for my punishment, I had to help with Nezhas Camp. Bullshit if you ask me so I dragged my partner in crime with me.

Nezah

arts in order by: @ FedoraGato on Twitter/X and @ SweetDrxmz on Newgrounds

I am Nezha, God of victory, courage, success, and power, patron god of children and filial piety, and creator of Camp Sky. I oversee the camp and its residents. I ensure all are taken care of, claimed promptly, and safe from harm. If you need my assistance, you may find me in my temple or at the pond.

Why did I make this camp? I was tired of seeing Demigod kids being deserted and left by my fellow immortals, so I created this camp as their heaven on earth.

Macaque

arts in order by: @ StariiKat and @ shadow_painting on Twitter/X

I am Macaque, the nearly omniscient being that can hear all. I can hear the past and future do not play with me here. I am Sun Wukongs partner in crime that he dragged along to help with HIS punishment. Should honestly get him back for that. I am in the shadows too so eyes and ears are everywhere. I am the monitor and punisher of the camp, but for the little kids, I do shadow puppetry for them.

Why am I here? Sun Wukong did something stupid. Aren't I dead? Readers of the original Journey To The West books may remember that Sun killed me for impersonating him, but he dragged me out of the underworld to help him in his consequnce. Honestly, before then he popped by in hell to talk after he chilled the fuck out about that incident and we've been buddies ever since.

If you wanna be part of Yue's adventures you can submit your OCs to @yue-the-moons-child or straight to this blog!

Before you do, we have ground rules and a template

No opness, unless it's Sun Wukong kid you can put a smidge of opness but not too much-

No romance with any of the gods please they will remain platonic-

demon ocs are accepted :D

just have fun :D

Name: Height: Godly parent: Claimed or unclaimed: Powers: Preferred weapon Personality: Physical description: (Optional) Background lore and plans for lore: (Optional) Picture of your oc:

This blog is a product of My fanfic/Expansion of the Riordanverse: Yues' Legends of the Stars

This camp and Most of its characters are my product and any impersonation of me, any planarization or modification of my work or characters are strictly prohibited.

Some OCs in the works are submitted to me to use or I have been given permission to use them in my work.

[moo-blogging]

Hi Moo !

I'm sending you another message to send you all my support in this difficult time for you. Remember that you can always take a break whenever you want. Just because you are "doing nothing" doesn't mean your day was for nothing. It is important to take time for yourself, and you can always do the things you had planned to do on another day. You go at the pace you want.

When I saw your response to my message, I thought that a real bouquet is always better than a fake one :) I spent the afternoon making a little bouquet for you, searched through many books, and involved my whole family in this project lmao. I was very happy to do this, so please don't feel guilty about the attention.

Here's the famous bouquet :

And the flowers have special meanings for you (I had to deal with the season and the available flowers unfortunately)

The big purple flower is an iris, it symbolizes the hope and courage I want to bring you. The orange flower in the centre is a marigold, it promotes joy, creativity and the will to succeed. In these difficult times for you, I wish you to be happy and healthy. Daisies are a symbol of affection. The dandelion flower wishes for lasting happiness, to survive all challenges and difficulties, and for wishes to be granted. And finally, on the left and background of the photo, the pale yellow flowers are freesias, they signify trust, gentleness, friendship.

These are all things I wish you. I will look at this bouquet and think of you :)

Have a good night, and good luck with work!

Aslantes! You are too kind to me I'm going to cry 😭😭😭 thank you thank you thank you thank you so much for the flowers! It has been a long time since someone did something nice for me thank you so much

I rarely look into the meaning of flowers because I'm a firm believer of "you love what you love" and even thorns are beautiful to some people. But this is so lovely of you and your family to go through the trouble to get me this bouquet of meaningful and beautiful flowers, I wish I could hold it in my hands

I hope all the best things in life goes to you and your family. You have a kind and loving soul. I wish you happiness, health and peacefulness.

Thank you, Aslantes, thank you so so so much. Love you 💕

[hobiebrownsluver]

diaries of a burnt out highschooler: meet the students !! pt. 1

loading...

student files opened!!

"and if i failed to earn blue ribbon, how could i ever be forgiven? tell me, what love would still be given, from you?"- top of my school, katherine lynn-rose

name: reiji kawasaki

age: 16

likes: sleeping, headphones and music, coffee, his hoodies, looking through random topics at midnight, novels and manga, history, and affirmation and validation (mostly academically)

dislikes: loud noises, spacing out, unable to sleep though he has done many activities in trying to do so, staying up at night doing assignments/reviewing, his dad, and being compared to his dad.

background:

born as the only son of seamstress Ayane Kawasaki and Ryota Kawasaki, a Business Analyst, Reiji was raised almost solely by his mother, rarely seeing his father at any point in his life, he described his father as a workaholic who was only there for him financially, not even participating in Reiji's graduations, sports day, and even birthdays, with Ryota barely even being there for his wife as well, and never being there for her emotionally, it is recalled by Reiji that he once found his mother crying in the dining room alone due to Ryota not being there for Reiji, it is also noted by Reiji during this time that he barely saw his mother truly smile, though she constantly smiled around him, that there was a heavy form of tiredness and sadness in her eyes opposing her smile, which caused Reiji to try and do anything in his power as a child to see his mother truly smile at him even once.

one day after coming home perfectly passing a quiz in the second grade, Reiji ran up to his mother excitedly exclaiming his achievement, once his mother checked the paper, Reiji finally noticed for once that his mother was smiling truly, seeing the fulfillment in her eyes and hearing her cheerful voice and embracing him so eagerly, seeing this, this caused Reiji to constantly pass his classes with top marks, always finding fulfillment in seeing his mother truly happy, always treasuring his mothers smile during graduation photos once he was rewarded with his medal(s).

somewhere during this time, reiji would meet tadashi due to tadashi's mother asking services of reiji's, this would cause them to usually being influenced to talk to each other by their mothers, which unfortunately would result in them either slightly arguing or not talking at all. this would change once reiji brought his favorite book at that time, i am cat, which was also a favorite of tadashis', causing them to bond over it and create a friendship with each other, which would carry on to high school now as best friends, though only talking through text due to tadashi's new social life and many school activities.

personality:

Reiji is noted by his teachers and classmates as antisocial and reserved, rarely speaking if not spoken to by Tadashi or the teacher, and due to this, unintentionally comes across as intimidating and uncaring for those around him, due to this, nobody has come up to him for years if not for a school project. It is also noted that Reiji usually using sarcasm as his humor, usually rolling his eyes mentally when something annoys him, even his eyes coming off clearly to what he's probably telling you.

however, Reiji is not fully antisocial, usually becoming talkative to those he's around, however knowing when to shut up and stay quiet, his topics usually going by random, from his sudden interests in certain things, to his hobbies etc.

however, outside the eyes of everyone around him, Reiji is a desperate people pleaser, mostly to his mother, desiring her to be as happy as possible while making her forget the pain his father is causing her for as much as possible, due to this, this also caused Reiji to be heavily self-reliant, as he never asked anything from his mother, only relying on himself as he would see himself as a burden when he asks for the smallest things and help, this would also apply to his friends, never asking much of them and would deny any sort of hand from them though his situation would heavily need it at times.

this validation also caused Reiji to barely care for himself either, losing sleep to studying and reviewing for the next exam or test, and due to his tiredness, would forget his basic needs, forgetting to shower at night during weekdays, this would be much more common on weekends, usually staying inside his room sleeping in, only partaking in his needs when his mother or friends remind him too, it is also noted that he loathes being compared to his father, being highlighted once one of the teachers told him that he reminded them of his father who had the same "anti-socialness" as him, which caused him to politely shake his head and deny such things, stressing once alone that he may become him one day and hurt the people around him like what his father did to Reiji and his mother.

trivia:

reiji is an intp.

reiji's favorite foreign food are nuggets.

reiji's comfort food is taiyaki.

reiji is a gay demisexual.

reiji usually commits typos and would be lazy to correct them at times.

he peels off his mouth's skin and would usually zone out in school and in his room when he's not sleeping.

it is implied that if reiji had the choice of choosing between his father and mother, he'd choose his mother with no hesitation.

tysm if you read all of this !! i wanted to share more of my oc's here for no apparent reason lol while also using these as my highlights when i finally write the story hehe

i'll make the two other protagonists, tadashi and kyomi's profile later !! i hope you liked this and see you next time !!

mika out !!

pls note that none of these pictures or dividers are mine !! they all belong to their respective owners and the only original items in this post are the oc and profile, tyy !! <33

[k00295837]

Gallery Visit

6-02-24, RAH, Part 2

The second artist who's work particularly struck me during this gallery visit was John Kindness. In his book, 'The Odyssey', Patrick T. Murphy says that Kindness has an "insistence on a wide vocabulary of styles and methods to create his art", which is evident in the multitudes of disciplines I saw in Kindness' display. He is an admirable artist for having such range and ability to explore his theme in so many different ways. From mosaic, to gouache, to porcelain and even boat oars, he reaches a multitude of media in that exhibition.

Two things really struck me when I was at the gallery, the first being a subtle but sharp sense of humour in Kindness' work. In the first image that follows is a photo of ceramic potato chip bags that say 'Poseidons, Doomed Sailors', imitating a brand name and food product line. The second and third images are photos of 'Death of the Suitors', the second photo being a blown up image of a section in the middle-right of the painting that reads 'Fuck-ing-Hell' in a meat/bacon-looking substance on skewers. The last image is a photo of 'Telemachus's Old Toy: Dad', from the Greek mythology story that Telemachus and his father, Odysseus, killed the suitors of Telemachus' mother and Odysseus' wife upon returning from war in Troy. Written by Robert McDowell in Kindness' book, John Kindness is 'never without a compelling sense of humorous irony and paradox', which I whole-heartedly agree with.

The sly humour in all of these are fantastic to me. My 'Disrupt' project featured a type of humour that I could only hope was paralleled to the whiplash reaction one experiences when admiring Kindness' artwork about an ancient mythology with such niche and slapstick humour. I was left the exhibit wondering if I could still incorporate this element into the current Movement project.

The second thing that occurred to me in Kindness' artwork is the cultural influences. This exhibition is very obviously centred around the theme of Greek mythology and Kindness' influence from James Joyce's 'Ulysses', it is prevalent in almost every single piece in the room. Upon getting a closer look at the collection, I began to see influences from elsewhere in the world. He uses contemporary practice to discuss traditional themes, which I think is a beautiful combination in his case.

This painting, 'Penelope & Telemachus', instantly struck me as having a resemblance to Egyptian relief wall paintings. The layers of figures in the background, the flat painting technique, the way the animals and people are posed all screamed an ancient Egyptian inspiration to me.

[canirove]

Red & Blue | Chapter 35

Author's note: We are approaching the end of "Red & Blue", but don't worry, because there is more Mason coming in November. And in the company of a certain Portuguese with arms the size of my head 👀

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━         

“Dear God, breathe!”

“Imf brifin.”

“No, you are not. Eat slowly, please.”

“Fine” I say. “But I am hungry, and this tastes so good.”

“I know it does. But I only want to have to take you to the hospital when that little one decides is time to come to the world, not because you’ve chocked while eating chocolate.”

“I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“Are you eating well?”

“Yes, Eliza. I am eating well.”

“Because you are planning on playing again once the baby is born, right? You are not retiring yet.”

“I am not. Besides, I live with a football player. I eat healthy even if I don’t want to, and all this will be burnt later” I say, giving my pastry another big bite.

“Pilates? Yoga?”

“Mounting.”

“Mount… Oh. Oh!”

“Oh indeed” I say with a big smile.

“Let’s talk about something else, shall we?” Eliza says, her face turning a bright shade of pink. “The announcement.”

“Yes, that.”

“What do you guys want to do?”

“We thought an Instagram post would be enough.”

“Maternity shoot?”

“God, no. I hate those, they are so… Yeah, not for me. But Mason has been taking random photos of the me and the bump, so one of those will do.”

“And the caption?”

“I don’t know. Something simple, nothing cheesy.”

“Ok. Send me some of the photos you like and the caption, and I’ll discuss it with his team.”

“Really? Is that necessary?”

“This is something huge. It isn’t like when you go somewhere for the holidays. We can’t risk posting it and then seeing that there is some underwear on the background, a grammar error…”

“I don’t make grammar errors” I say all proud.

“Just in case. We don’t want to give people any reason to be mean or send hate. Not with something like this.”

“The haters will find a way to hate, they don’t give a shit about anything or anyone. But yes, it’ll be for the best.”

“And then we have you know who…” Eliza sighs.

“Oh, the conspiracy theorists that believe Leah and I are together and Mason is just a beard… I hope they don’t follow the scary route others have, and start saying this is all fake and that the baby is a doll.”

“They’ll probably say it is your baby with Leah, and that Mason is the sperm donor.”

“Or Aaron.”

“I’ll make sure to keep an eye on the comments.”

“Great. Are you gonna eat that?” I say, pointing at the other pain au chocolat on the table.

“All yours. But promise you will eat it slowly.”

“I promise” I say before devouring it in just a few bites.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━        

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━         

"Ay, ¡pero mírate!" Sandra says, hugging me. She and Marco have come to spend a couple of days with us in London now that La Liga is on their Christmas break. "Last time I saw you, you were barely showing!"

"And now, look" I say, caressing my belly.

"Two months left, right?"

"Yep."

"Are you ready for it?" Marco says, also giving me a hug.

"I think I am. Mason, on the other hand..."

"He's freaking out, isn't he?" Sandra says.

"Kind of."

Instead of spending most part of his free time playing golf or video games with his friends, he's now using that time to read books about pregnancies and babies. And when he is online, he's constantly watching videos, reading more, and searching and buying everything we may need. Or not.

"Can I check the nursery?" Sandra asks. "Seeing it on videos isn't the same as in real life."

"She's been looking forward to it since we got the plane tickets. I think she's more excited about that than seeing you" Marco says.

"Hey!" she replies, hitting him on the arm. "I'm excited because this is a very special project. It is my first nursery, and I don't usually work through facetime, I visit the places I'm decorating. I must make sure everything is perfect for the little one."

"If you say so... Ouch!" Marco complains when Sandra hits him again.

"C'mon, I'm also excited about you seeing it for the first time" I say, grabbing her arm. Since Sandra works as an interior designer, I asked for help with the nursery. I had no idea about where to start.

"Oh my God, it's perfect!" she says once we walk into the room, checking every detail. "And the wallpaper! So much prettier in person!"

"I love it. Now I kind of want the whole house to be covered on it."

"The rest of the house looks great the way it is, don't touch anything" she says, threatening me with her finger.

"The hanger with all the little shirts is so cute" Marco says.

"Mason loves it."

"He is the one who put the Chelsea one first, isn't he?"

"Yep. And when Leah comes to visit, it's the Arsenal one the one that magically shows up first."

"I can see them fighting over the shirt the baby must wear" Marco laughs.

"Oh, that's already happening. Sometimes Declan also is involved and... Yeah. So I've told them that those stay on the hanger, and the only one that gets to be worn is the England one. That makes everyone happy."

"Unless they start arguing about the name or number on the back..."

"Marco, don't give them ideas!" Sandra says.

"I knew it could happen, so I said no name or number. Besides, only Mason and I know the name."

"Which I think is very rude. Not telling your dear friends about the name... What if I want to get you something with the name embroided?" Sandra says, checking the wardrobe. "But look at all these little outfits! You better send me photos every single day."

"I will, you aren’t the first person who asks for it. I see myself making a group chat just to send photos of the outfits.”

“Baby influencer” Marco says.

“Have you decided if you will show the face on social media?” Sandra asks.

“No, not yet. Mason is dying to be able to go out and do the walk around the pitch at the end of the season like he’s done with Summer. He’s said that it is a dream he’s always had, to do that with his kids. Same if he wins something. And whether you like or not, there will be photos and videos online. So I guess we’ll see how things go, and how comfortable we feel.”

“Good” Sandra says. “Now let’s take some photos of this beautiful room. Will you allow me to post them on Instagram?”

“Of course! I know how much it means to you.”

“You are the best” Sandra says, giving me a quick hug.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━       

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

(cruel) summer || tom holland x reader

a/n: well...this took me a lot longer than I expected. I can only apologise for how long this has taken, especially since the absolutely wonderful @glahmouur​ requested it so many months ago. I hope you’re still excited to read, and that I’ve done it justice for you. clinging onto the last of these summer vibes before my favourite time of year - and hopefully plenty more writing to come over the next couple of weeks! I’ve missed you all so very much. enjoy x  word count: 3735 (oops) warning: swearing, gross paparazzi, little bit of angst summary: it’s the summer of your dreams with your favourite people, something was always going to try and ruin it

The trip had been booked for months.

Tom, Harrison, Harry, Tuwaine and yourself. Mexico. 

Two whole weeks. 

No interruptions. No work. Just pure bliss. 

And, it was shaping up to be the most perfect break.

The first couple of days since you had landed included a lot of amazing food, sightseeing around the quaint picturesque villages and cultural landmarks, tackling hiking trails and joining in on the sports activities set up for you and the boys on the crystal white beaches. 

Your favourite part however, was the amount of quality time you got to spend with Tom. Both of you were considered workaholics, and you loved your jobs, but it meant that for the majority of the year you were in separate locations working on your own individual projects.

You both deserved, and needed, this break.

The timing couldn’t have been better, as across the two weeks you would be celebrating your 23rd birthday. Birthdays weren’t always something you and Tom could share together in person, but you would always make it work with FaceTime calls and the promise of a do-over when you were together again. 

“Hey!” 

You tore yourself away from the soft paperback that was resting warmly against your thighs.

“Hm?”

You look up at your boyfriend, strong arms hauling himself up against the hot paved edging of the pool. He shook his wet curls out of his hair, droplets springing from the tips. Tanned, freckled shoulders peeked out from beneath the water. The sun, strong and intense, commandeered the bright blue skies. A far cry from the cold, rainy weather you’d left back home in the UK. You were unwilling to make your way back to your hotel room in the sticky heat for your forgotten sunglasses, and were instead using your hand as a shield from the glaring rays. 

“The water looks good on you,” you flirt, smiling across at him from your position on the reclined sun-bed. 

He grins back at you, cheekily. 

“It’ll look better on you. Aren’t you coming in?” 

You pointed to the book nestled between your legs, “I’m reading, plus the water is freezing.” You teased him, training your eyes back onto the page. You heard brief splashing alongside the laughter of the boys as they continued to play their water basketball game. 

A shadow blocks out your sun, dripping water onto the hot concrete. 

“Yeah, no. Sorry, but that’s just not going to cut it birthday girl.” 

Before you had a chance to take in his words, Tom had scooped you up from your position on the sun-bed. The light droplets from his wet, messy hair chilling your tanned skin. 

“Tom! No! Put me down! What are you doing?” You laughed, lightly kicking your legs, “Wait, at least let me put my book down first.” 

You felt the grumbled laugh against your body, as you gently tossed your book onto the lounger. 

“Okay, go ahead.” 

He pressed a sloppy, wet kiss on your mouth - your hand knotted in the back of his wet, tangled hair as you pushed for more.

“Love you.” He said, before dropping you into the pool with a splash. 

“You suck, Holland!” You shouted back to him, once you’d come back up for air, shaking water out of your ears and trying to scoop your tangled web of hair out of your eyes as he laughed, eyes twinkling. ****

You continued to watch from your perch on the side-lines, legs tracing patterns in the water whilst the sun beat down across your back and shoulder blades. The boys continued to mess around in the water. Your book had been long since abandoned on your sun lounger, pages now curling with the heat. You couldn’t contain your laughter when Tuwaine jumped on Tom’s back, Harry on Harrison’s so the two teams could race from one end of the pool to the other, legs peddling in what seemed like slow motion under the water; raucous fits of laughter emanating from both parties as your cheered on your boyfriend.

You couldn’t help but be automatically drawn to Tom, his smile so wide and eyes creased with laughter as Tuwaine casually slung his arms over his shoulders. His hair was completely dishevelled from the water’s attempts to flatten it entirely. You could see a smattering of freckles breaking out across his nose, complete with a small shock of pink on his cheeks as he was officially branded by the sun. 

“Hey, pretty girl – forgive me yet?” Tom whined, swimming up to the edge to meet you. He gently pulled your legs further into the water, sliding himself between them, wrapping his arms around your waist as your legs wrapped themselves around his. 

You laughed, pushing against his broad shoulders.

“Not sure yet. I’m thinking about it.” 

He gave a toothy grin before peppering a small cluster of kisses against your lips, “You look so good.” He mumbled quietly against your mouth.

You rolled your eyes at him, before returning the kisses.

“Oi, get a room you two!” You laugh as Tom covers the front of you, ultimately taking the hit of water from Harry.

He gives you a light squeeze round the waist, and a soft kiss on the cheek whispering a quick, “Hop on.”  

Wrapping your arms across his warm shoulders, you eased yourself fully into the water, feeling the immediate chill up your sides before wrapping your legs around Tom’s waist. Leaning forward against his back, he held onto the backs of your thighs – propelling you both through the water.

As you arrive next to the boys, you lightly floated away from Tom and were pulled into a one-armed hug by Tuwaine. As Harry held up a fist for you to bump against, you flicked your wrist just under the surface of the water – splashing him as payback.

Tom tread water with the cheesiest grin on his face as all the boys’ eyes immediately trained on you.

“Come on then, what’s this ‘mermaids’ game you were talking about – and how do we play?” ****

The air con hummed lowly, wispy curtains gently blowing in the cool breeze from the open balcony doors. The ocean twinkled in the late afternoon sunshine. You were sprawled out on the large king-sized bed wrapped in one of the hotel’s fluffiest white towels, legs dancing in the air behind you. Lounging on your front, wet curls drying in the cool air you could hear the faint sound of spraying water from the en-suite shower. It soothed you as you continued to follow the written words on the pages of your, now slightly wrinkled and rough to the touch, paperback.

Your phone vibrated from the opposite side of the room, plugged in and charging atop the rustic, vintage vanity table where your new camera, battery pack and Tom’s wallet had all been left.

The camera had been a special gift from Tom which he’d surprised you with on your birthday, celebrated only the other evening. He’d been so giddy the morning of. The carefully, yet haphazardly, wrapped parcel had protruded just slightly from under the bed in the hotel room you shared, where he’d attempted to hide it. You pretended you hadn’t noticed. Puppy dog eyes shone as he eventually handed it across to you, surprising you in bed as the sun was going down, casting golden specks across your bodies, as he whispered a soft ‘happy birthday’ against your lips. Beaming at you once he saw your sheer shock and joy at his thoughtful gift, he had kept the first photo you’d taken in his wallet from that evening. Just the two of you - both sleepy shadows, full from all the sweet lemon sponge cake that has been especially ordered up to your room - cuddled together, legs entangled as you fell into each other’s embrace.

You’d all taken a boat to one of the smaller islands for a special celebratory dinner the next evening; where Harry had surprised you with the battery pack, his smart quick-thinking leaving Tom with a pink blush upon his cheeks. You thanked him with a smile, the rest of the crew spoiling you rotten with drinks and food. As the boys parted ways, you and Tom had waited around for the sunset, high off the sparkling, sweet tasting wine you’d both consumed all evening – bewitched by each other’s titillating company. A small wrap was knotted around your waist, as you had all stayed in your beachwear, black bikini top on show as a server snapped a picture of you both with your new camera per Tom’s polite request. The sun burned low behind you both, it’s vibrant orange glow glistening across the water towards the cove. 

Posting the photo in your wine induced haze, you captioned it with a simple 23 and a golden heart before tagging Tom in the blurry, sepia quality polaroid.

You knew the vibrating would be your phone going into overload. A common occurrence that happened anytime you posted a photo with your boyfriend, the hordes of fans coming in full throttle to interact in some way.

Leaving it to buzz in the background, you turned your attention to the bathroom door opening. Tom stepping out as he shook his wet hair, towelling it dry as it stuck up in multiple directions haphazardly.

“Come here.”

You sat yourself up, legs crossed beneath you as he walked over to you – that soft smile high on his lips.

He sat on the end of the bed as you brushed through his temperamental curls, “Please leave it curly,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his tanned shoulder blades, running your hands through the brown locks.

“We’ll match.” He said, turning to you as your hands fell back into your lap.

“Would it be too much?” You asked, as he gently tucked a rogue drying curl behind your own ear.

“Oh definitely. But I love it.”

With that, he pushed forward. Noses brushed as you both relaxed into each other’s embrace, mouths eagerly seeking out each other, the sweet smells of lotion and ocean spray engulfing you both.

****

“Right, it’s my round! Get your orders in!” 

The whole group hollered at Tom, who pressed a firm kiss onto your forehead as you tilted it upwards towards him, his two hands cradling either side of your head. Your eyes closed involuntary at the warmth before you turned to watch him leave the table and join the small crowd up at the bar. Dressed in a tropical patterned shirt, unbuttoned and billowing just slightly due to the aircon, you took a minute to admire him from afar. He worked hard to look the way he did, muscles contracting and relaxing again with each breath. 

You pulled the thin material of your summery dress down further, eager to cover up some of the bare skin you had on show after seeing Tom’s. You paled in comparison to the web-slinging actor, and sometimes if you focussed on it too much you couldn’t understand why such a gorgeous man would be interested in you. 

“Hello. Anyone in there?”

A hand waved in front of your eyeline. Shaking your head, you returned your attention back to the table where the boys were trying to mask their laughter. 

“She can’t take her eyes off him for two minutes. Outrageous.” 

“What? I’m on holiday, leave me alone!”  

Tuwaine smirked slightly, as Harrison patted your arm reassuringly.

“Why did we agree to have a couple on this trip again?” Harry complained cheekily, grinning his cheesy grin at you. You reached an arm across the table and pushed a hand against his forehead, playfully shoving him back.

“Shut up, you love me.”

As Tom came back with the tray; a colourful array of cocktails, shots and ciders, the group continued to laugh and joke around, cheers-ing to your recent birthday and to the remainder of their holiday under the heat of the Mexican sun. 

**** “Uh oh, incoming Tom.”

Everyone was rosy cheeked as they tumbled out of the restaurant, laughing and giggling as the sun cast its low golden glow over the glistening blue waters. Waves gently caressed the edge of the shore as you revelled in the drunken clinginess of your boyfriend, and the support and love of your friends. 

You walked with Tom - the pair of you in your own little bubble, as he tucked you into his side, his arm slung casually across your shoulders as you wrapped yours around his waist. You could hear the thumps of his beating heart beneath the now buttoned up fabric of his shirt.

As the words spilled from Harry’s mouth, catching you all off guard mid conversation, Tom whipped his head round; immediately sobering up as his arm tightened around your shoulders. You peeked over his.

Behind a cluster of people, the striking black camera was obvious as the paparazzi pushed forwards, eager to catch a glimpse of the web-slinger himself.

You felt a brush of cold air sweep over your body, the hairs on your arms rising like tiny pinpricks as little goose bumps littered your skin. You straightened up, unwrapping yourself from Tom’s side.

“You okay?” He murmured into your ear, eyes hardening as he focussed on the path ahead of him whilst navigating the drunken, bustling crowds.

You nod.

“How did they even find us?”

You could sense Tom’s frustration and anger at the situation, resting a comforting hand on his arm. You knew what this meant, if the paparazzi had caught wind of where you all were, it wouldn’t be long before they figured out where it was you were staying and you couldn’t imagine that they’d leave Tom alone for the rest of his trip.

“I posted a photo the other night. Someone could’ve recognised the restaurant.”

It was during your worried ramble that the shouting started, camera-wielding men desperate to get a photo of Tom.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault, okay? Let’s just head back.”

Your heart was racing as you were led through the dimly lit cobbled streets of the small village, losing Tom’s hand you were flanked by Tuwaine and Harrison – Harry hurrying up ahead with Tom. The camera shutters were getting louder and louder, the constant clicking ricocheting off the stone walls surrounding you as you attempted to block out the shouting and the grabbing hands of the people around you. The once happy, bustling streets now felt claustrophobic.

It was so easy to forget who Tom was in regards to his public image and celebrity status when you were together. Forcing you to recall that he wasn’t just your boyfriend, he was suddenly an A-list celebrity, ‘Spider-Man’ himself. Back home you could easily be together in public without too much attention – only having to accommodate for the occasional fan photo or dinner interruption. Premiere’s and special events weren’t so bad because the press was supposed to be there, and whilst extremely intimidating, you understood it was part of the job.

You noticed Tom and Harry slip down a small alleyway to the right, a blink and you’ll miss it move – as you and the boys continued up the cobbled paths to the main street. It was a distraction technique discussed every time the five of you went out together and had to deal with any irritating situation.

“They said they’re getting a car, and they’ll meet us back at the hotel.”

As Harrison organised your transport, you reached the main road – twinkling lights from the city and the roaring of cars sweeping past you. The paparazzi slowed behind you, their shouts less desperate now that it was obvious Tom was no longer with the group. Their frustration was obvious as they all grouped together, scanning through the photos that they had managed to sneakily take.

Then there was a stupid comment.

As the paps brushed past you all, one leaned in far closer than you had anticipated, stabbing a pointed finger straight into your chest and leaning in close.

“Think you’re so special. Girl like you. So many other beautiful girls out there.”

Whilst the language was slightly broken, you pieced enough together before Tuwaine stepped in front of you both.

“What the hell man! Fuck off, you’re just a bully, why don’t you just leave her alone, yeah? Pick on someone your own size!”

You grabbed at Tuwaine’s arm, shaking your head in silent surrender.

“Just leave it. It’s okay. It’s not worth it.”

“I just hate them so much. Never let anyone have a bit of privacy. Constantly looking to bring people down, and start fights - assholes!” He shouted down the road at the small cluster of men as they continued on their way, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, “I’m fine. They’re just mad they didn’t get their picture. Let’s just get out of here. Should probably make sure that they don’t follow us back to the hotel.”

Harrison came jogging over, hand beckoning to follow him to a sleek black car parked just around the corner.

“Car’s here,” He paused for a minute. Noticing your smaller stature and Tuwaine’s puffed out chest and frown, he tilted his head, “We all okay?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Let’s go.”

Smiling a small, grateful smile you gave Harrison’s arm a comforting squeeze before sliding onto the black leather seats.

***** “Can’t even give us a couple weeks off. I love this job. But I would pack it all in if it meant that paparazzi just fucking left us alone.”

“Tom. Think we should call it a night.”

Harrison nodded over at you. Whilst your body was curled into Tom’s frame, your eyes unfocussed, having found a spot on the wall to gaze into as the boys all had a drink in the private hotel lounge.

You didn’t want to admit that the photographer’s words had any impact. And you really didn’t want to bring down the light-hearted, fun energy that your vacation had been full of. You were usually so good at brushing off any unwarranted comments, which were usually inevitable seeing as your boyfriend had such a large fanbase. There was no way everyone was going to like you, and you could cope with that. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been doing so for ages now. But whether it was the alcohol you’d already consumed, or something else – you just couldn’t stop thinking about what the man had spat at you.

Tom’s body shifts beneath you, holding out a hand for you to take as you both rise from the luxurious chaise. Shaking your head out of your daze, you smile softly as you grasp his hand and haul yourself up.

“We’ll see you guys tomorrow okay. Thanks for tonight boys, and sorry for ruining it.”

“Tom, you didn’t-” Tom waved them off with a shrug, before sliding his arms across your shoulder and entwining your fingers at the other side.

“Night guys.” It came out as more of a whisper, as you processed to walk with Tom up to your floor, your head nestling gently into his collarbone.

****

The hotel room was suffocating.

You lay on your side, facing the firmly locked balcony doors. The room was cold. The air conditioning incessant with its obnoxious whirring. There was a rustle. The thin cotton sheets slide across your body as Tom hops in next to you.

“I’m sorry.”

His soft words caused your entire tension-filled body to exhale.

“Tom.”

You turned to face him. His eyes were closed, tiny creases etched into the space between his eyebrows. Tom didn’t like being vulnerable, you knew he was staving off his true feelings – the striking anger that was coursing through his body. Gently smoothing the creases out with your fingers, he leaned ever so slightly into your touch.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault.”

You pressed a soft kiss on his brow bone before settling in next to him, bodies warm to the touch.

“I love you. You know that, right? Whatever they’re all saying, it’s rubbish.”

The lump in your throat that you had been impressively swallowing down all evening came back to the surface, the pressure building.

“How did you know?”

He shrugged.

“I saw some of the comments.”

The pictures had been released pretty quickly. By the time you had all arrived back to the hotel they were already circulating across the internet, which people took as the perfect opportunity to hurl insults at your social media pages.

He shifts his head to the left to look at you, eyes softening.

“Hey. You can let it out. It’s just me. C’mon.”

You curl further into him, as his lips caress your forehead.

“People suck.” You mumble into his chest as he wraps himself around you, lightly trailing his fingers up and down your arm, the skin bursting with tiny goose bumps. You revelled in the soothing comfort.

“Sometimes I just forget. I forget that there are thousands – maybe even tens of thousands - of people out there who just don’t like me,” Tom squeezes you that little bit tighter, “And it’s okay. I don’t mind, really. I just wish they didn’t have to be so vocal about it – about how I look, how I act, how I dress. About whether I’m good enough.”

“You are good enough. You’re more than good enough. You’re amazing.”

Your lips pull up into a small smile as you look into those concerned brown eyes.

“You’re biased.”

He let out a small huff, chest vibrating beneath you, “Am not.” He sighed, those fluffy brows saying a thousand words, “I’m supposed to make all that crap better, not make you feel worse because of some so-called fans on the internet, and those stupid idiot paps; I’m so sorry.”

“Maybe if you just…weren’t so damn attractive. That would help.”

You both laughed.

“Oh, really?”

You nodded, as he pulled you in, peppering more soft kisses along your temple until he made his way down to your mouth.

“You’re ridiculous. And beautiful.”

Another kiss.

“And smart.”

Another kiss.

“And kind.”

Another kiss. “And I am so in love with absolutely everything about you. You’re enough. You’re everything.”

You felt your eyes glossing over. Scrunching your nose to avoid an onslaught of overdue tears, you felt Tom move beneath the covers – his arms wrapping around your torso, his curly messy hair resting on your stomach.

“I love you too.”

[notnctu]

through the lens ❀ l.jn

❀ lee jeno x fem!reader ❀ genre - slow burn, smut/mature content, fluff (romance?), slight angst ❀ details - photographer!jeno, model!reader, college!au, shy!jeno but he aint shy in bed, strangers to fuckers!au ❀ word count - 8k (this is the longest thing ive ever written) ❀ warnings - nude modeling, swearing, oral (f/receiving), some sweet love makin’ ❀ brief synopsis - jeno asks you to model for his internship project, but little did you know, it was going to be a nude photo shoot.  

❝ jeno was too shy to hold eye contact, but he stared at you endlessly through the lens. ❞

❀ a/n - hihihi this is author doie❀ ! im bad at writing smut so pls dont hate me ah ha lol i tried my best i also dont model/do professional photography so really apologize if i butcher any terms lmaoo the only thing i am is that im in college and im shy

Jeno had applied to almost a hundred internships and almost close to none returned with an offer, even after a whole month of waiting. He absolutely needed to start building his portfolio before the beginning of his senior year of college. The embarrassment of possibly graduating without any experience loomed over the desperate boy. 

Photography had been more than a hobby to him, to the point where he wanted to take it seriously. His parents weren’t the most supportive of an Arts major, but that couldn’t stop him. Jeno saw the best through a camera lens. He had a special eye for beautiful moments and the impressing urge to capture it forever. 

It was too late to change his major, if he wanted to graduate with all of his friends. If he wanted to be successful, he had to act on it now. 

The swoosh! of a new email startled the sleeping boy. He stared at the brightly lit screen, reading the words over and over again to make sure it was real. Jeno was so enthralled with excitement that he scrambled out of bed to wake up his roommate, Jaemin.

He shook him so violently that the sheets fell from Jaemin’s warm body. “Dude! I got an internship!” He spoke with incredible glee, a wide smile couldn’t leave his face.

Jaemin groaned and had to hold Jeno by the shoulders to halt the boy from causing the room to spin. “Why--What is going on?” He dazely rubbed his tired eyes to blink at his giddy roommate.

The screen blinded Jaemin as it was shoved too closely to adjust. “Whoa--,” he pushed it away and shut his eyes, “--repeat what you just said one more time.” Jaemin held a finger up and Jeno grabbed it, jumping onto his best friend’s bed.

“I got an internship. Someone got back to me.” Jaemin returned the same excitement the moment he processed his words. He shot up in bed and hugged his friend tightly. 

“Wo-w, dude! Congratulations!” The two boys hurried on their feet to cheer together. There was no concern for the rest of their housemates, only celebration that roared throughout the entire night.

+

Truthfully, Jeno had no recollection of applying to this studio. It could have been a random link on a job scouting website, but he couldn’t be more grateful. An internship was long overdue and Jeno had been itching to get some recognition for his craft. 

“Hello, I’m Lee Jeno.” He bowed slightly at the receptionist, who had a stern stare that made him feel vulnerable. The first thing he noted about the office: white and minimalistic. 

Jeno’s specialty was landscape photography. His aesthetics consisted of black and white filters, city lights, dark mood lighting, and background commotion. He enjoyed capturing chaos the most, a scene where more than one thing was happening. The only reason being that there was more to look at. 

“Nice to meet you. The name is Lee Taemin, but you can call me what you please.” A young, lean man strolled his way towards Jeno with a wide grin and his hand for him to shake. Taemin was slightly shorter than him, but his stylish, expensive boots made up for his height. He had to be only a maximum of five years older than Jeno as Taemin appeared relatively youthful. 

Taemin’s firm grip pulled Jeno along inside the studio. A small gasp escaped from Jeno which earned robust laughter from the older man. “I hope you can break out of your shell soon. There is no room for timidness around here, Mister Lee.”

“Please, you can call me Jeno.” He smiled, quite awkwardly at the beautiful man. 

The tall glass windows, the concrete, gray floor, the white doors that lined the hallway, had to be all too predictable. Jeno envisioned this is what high class must look like. It was the pristine, bright feeling and the smell of vanilla that lingered distastefully. There was chatter behind the closed doors --- mainly directing, and high praises. 

The only off-put was that photographers worked behind closed doors. From the few studios he has visited previously, photographers often worked in open spaces due to lighting fractures or the ability to roam more freely. 

“I’m actually very ecstatic you signed up for the internship, since you do seem a bit on the younger side.” Taemin gestured toward the sofa in the middle of his massive office. Jeno sat across from him. Water was already placed on the glass coffee table that separated the two. A laptop was opened to face Taemin.

Jeno slyly rubbed the condensation from his palms on his jeans. Taemin’s stare bore deep into the shy boy, who had to break eye contact from time to time. “I know.” Jeno chuckled nervously, “thank you for getting back to me. I was really hoping to gain work experience through mentorship.” 

Taemin nodded at everything Jeno was saying. His face being completely expressionless. Jeno sipped his water to regain moisture in his dry throat. Taemin was more intimidating than he was anticipating. “Sounds great. Happy to have you here. It might be a small business, but the experience is worth investing in. Every photographer who has come in and out of my building has found their forte. Let’s say, it’s eye opening.” 

���That’s exactly what I was looking for actually.” As scared as he was of this mysterious man, he really enjoyed the comfort the environment radiated. 

Taemin leaned forward and squinted at the screen. “I noticed in the portfolio you sent that you don’t have any portraits or any people, in general, in your photos. Do you have any works with people? Since this is a studio of fine art nude photography.”

Nude. Jeno practically choked on the last remaining spit he gathered. Taemin acknowledged the boy’s shocked reaction and tilted his head curiously, “you did know that I specialize in contemporary fine art nude photography, right?” Unfortunately, Jeno did not. 

Jeno cleared his throat, “yes, of course. I wanted to challenge myself.” He had to lie, there was no other way to cover up his disbelief. This internship was the only hope left for him to gain something. Though, even the thought of shooting a naked body made him anxious.

He hated how timid he was. His friends and family say otherwise, mainly for the reason that Jeno automatically lit up behind a camera. In all honesty, he hid behind it. It was the only safe place that Jeno knew what he was doing. However when it came to real life situations without it, he lacked the confidence to be himself.

As ironic as it was, he hated being seen. He liked to be the background character in his own life, because the main character took too much of a toll. It could also be his deafening insecurities and lack of self esteem, but Jeno didn’t mind not being the center of attention.

“You like a challenge?” It was more of a statement rather than a question. Jeno caught a glimpse of the twinkle in Taemin’s dark eyes. “Then for your first task, I want you to show me that you can take on this role.”

Jeno scrambled for his phone to jot down notes. “Send me an emotional portfolio, model of your choice. They could be a friend of yours that you feel comfortable seeing naked. It must include a variation of headshots, full body, and body details. It must also be raw and unedited photos. I want to see if you have the eye for the art to capture these types of images.”

“When would you like it by?” He stammered, completely winded at the sudden project that unloaded on top of him. 

“Next Friday, and you’ll present it to me here in person. Feel free to use this studio if you don’t have a place of your own with equipment. All you need to do is book a room with the front desk. Any other questions?” The sound of the laptop shutting caused Jeno to look up at the brilliance in front of him. He needed Taemin to help him succeed. 

“Why do you take nude photography?” 

Taemin was unable to stop the laughter that erupted into the room. “I don’t run a pimp business or sell soft core porn, if that’s why you’re staring at me so funnily. What I make is an art masterpiece, it has nothing to do with physical features or desires. It’s the pure emotion that clothing distracts from. Clothing conforms the model into an aesthetic, and while that works for editorials, it won’t be a consistent thing here.” 

Jeno nodded understandingly. Overwhelmed and lost at words. He was unsure what he had gotten himself into. Where was he going to find a model on such short notice on such lewd conditions? He was really going to need to step out of his comfortable zone, in his photography and social skills. 

Taemin stood up and extended his hand once more. “I take pride in my art, so I hope you, too, start finding that in your own.” 

+

Jaemin held his stomach from the endless laughter, tears welling up in his eyes. “Nud-Nude photography? And you didn’t know?”

“Jaemin, keep it down.” Jeno whispered and cautiously peered around at the few people flooding into the small lecture hall. “I don’t want everyone in our club to misunderstand and think I’m some creep.”

His best friend straightened up in his seat and placed his hand on Jeno's slumped shoulder, “first of all, you’re a complete idiot for not researching. Secondly, it’s an art form. If you really got yourself a shady, rated R internship, I would’ve told you to drop it instantly.” 

His spirits were slightly lifted, but he was still struggling with who he should ask to model for him. As much as he’s already seen of Jaemin, being his roommate, he honestly would rather leave the rest to imagination. Jeno wasn’t purposefully searching the room for a candidate, but he could not stop his eyes from drifting.

He spotted the most attractive side profile that sat two rows below him. He shook his head to make sure he was seeing her correctly. Peering around, he looked for another possible face to shoot. But oh god, how she caught his eye every time she even slightly moved.

You smiled happily with your friends by your side as your club’s executive board members introduced this year’s goals and events to attend. It had to be the smallest amount of alcohol still running in your system that caused you to giggle every time guys tried to turn around and hit on you.

“Why don’t you focus on our club members instead?” You smirked at the smug older boy, who had poorly attempted to grab your attention. “I think this information is important to you. These events could help you develop your social skills to be much better.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but your girl friends scoffed by your side.

He got up in disbelief and quickly walked out of the room. There was a brief pause at the sudden movement, but the announcement carried on per usual.

Jeno impatiently waited for the club meeting to finally be over, so he could talk to you. The longer it dragged, the more his confidence was subsiding. “I’m heading to study, wanna come with?” Jaemin poked at Jeno’s knee.

“Yeah, but you can go ahead first. I need to talk to someone.” His voice was shaky and his throat went so dry. Jeno’s shifty eyes scanned the room, hoping no one saw how nervous he was acting.

Jaemin’s eyebrows lifted suspiciously, “who? I didn’t even know you talked to anyone who came today. Donghyuck and Renjun aren’t here---”

“--her, Jaemin... her. I’m going to ask her to model for me.” Jeno motioned his head. His heart beating faster at seeing a small grin appear on your face from a comment someone made.

Jaemin hummed, “good luck with that, bud. I’ve got two shoulders for you to cry on after.” The extra hint of sarcasm only made Jeno sweat nervously. He was seriously doubting his decision, but it wouldn’t be a challenge if he didn’t do it. He knew he’d regret it more if he didn’t just ask you. 

Once the meeting was dismissed, you wanted to get out of the room before the heavy rush into the hallways. Unfortunately, a few frat guys pulled you into their conversation and chatted up a storm. Your friends played into their foolery, but you stopped paying attention when they asked for your numbers.

There was a faint tap on your shoulder and you turned to see who the culprit was. You didn’t seem to know him, because you would’ve remembered such a demeanor. His eyes were glued to the floor behind you and his shaky hands ran through his brown locks. His shyness was quite endearing, yet alarming since you weren’t sure why exactly he had approached you.

“Yes?” You asked curiously.

The moment Jeno heard your delicate cadence, he melted like a popsicle left out in the sun. He peered up, but quickly reverted his eyes to the white tiles when he noticed how beautifully you stared at him.

He counted his breathing to calm his rapid heart beat. He cleared his throat to introduce himself, “I’m Jeno. I’m a third year Arts major, um-- I was just--- I know we don’t know each other. I wanted to ask, uh-” Jeno was horrified at how he stammered over his own words. His cheeks burned with a red glow, and if he couldn’t look you in the eye before, he definitely couldn’t now.

“Hey, see you later.” One of the bulky frat guys called and you waved back weakly. 

A guy who had been chasing you endlessly scoffed at the pitiful sight and smirked at you, “see you at my house tonight? Been missing you in my bed lately.”

“Thought you would’ve guessed the reason why I stopped coming around.” Jeno heard the sting in your remarks and the disbelief in the male. 

You honestly could have left, Jeno knew that. But you stayed and waited patiently for him to finish. Jeno could tell how strong you were just by your intimidating aura that practically suffocated him by standing in close proximity to you.

You sighed and reached to grab your jacket on the folded seat, “look, Jeno. It’s nice to meet you and all, but I gotta get going.” 

Shockingly, the shy boy reached out to stop you by your fingertips. His touch lingered before he dropped your hand quickly. “I’m sorry. Are you free this Monday?”

“Uh, that depends. If you’re asking me on a date, then I’m busy.” Rolling your eyes, you weren’t sure why you still stayed to listen to what this random stranger had to say. If it were anyone else, you would’ve walked away the moment he asked if you were free. However, you acknowledged his timidness and the courage he must have mustered up to approach you.

Jeno shook his head violently, completely in shambles from that type of misunderstanding. “Not a date. I need someone to model for my portfolio photos that my internship assigned. It’s actually very important to me because it’s the first internship that responded back to me when I had applied to so many a whole month ago. Basically, I really need this and you because I think you’d be perfect to take pictures of. Oh-- wow! That sounded very bad --- uh --- what I meant is that your facial proportions are perfect and---”

“I’m free Monday.” You cut off his endless ramble and gestured toward his phone. He handed it to you without any hesitation and you typed in your number. “Text me the time, place and what I should wear.” 

“Oh actually, it’s a nude photoshoot.” Your eyes doubled in size, completely offended by that statement.

Jeno felt the sudden shift in the air and brought his hands up to block himself, “to be more clear, it’s a contemporary fine art nude photography studio. The pictures are pieces of art and to be seen as that only. I have no intentions or ulterior motive to sleep with you, see you naked or sell, leak your nudes for the profit of your body. But, I understand if you no longer want to do it because it sounds super strange now that I am explaining it.” 

Your shoulders relaxed and the fist that formed unraveled. You exhaled deeply, “I’ll do it. We can talk more about it on Monday and I get to leave on my own accord if I don’t feel comfortable. We work on my conditions.” Picking up Jeno’s chin, he was absolutely petrified at the forced eye contact and your incredible, powerful gaze. He was mesmerized by the fire in your eyes, and if he stared any longer, he could’ve lost himself in them. 

“Of course.” With that, you dropped his face and left without another look back. Jeno looked down at his phone and the new contact name, (Y/N). It had slipped his mind to even ask what your name was and he slapped his face in utter stupidity. “Do better, Lee Jeno.” It was a remainder to himself to, hopefully, be better the next time you two speak.

+

Monday, 3:03 PM. 

Jeno paced back and forth in the brightly, lit white room. He was trying to find any blinds or curtains to cover the tall windows of the high rise building. It should not be too much of a problem, the extra lighting was a positive. Jeno was only worried for your comfort of the openness. 

There was a soft knock before Jeno practically tripped to open the door. His breath hitched at the sight of your bare face. This time, you were the vulnerable one. Jeno only saw purity, yet impressed at how your tired eyes still managed to bid him a soft smile. He admired your uneven complexion, and the sparse moles that dotted your skin. 

“Okay, so you want to see me naked now or later?” Filled with jokes, your voice was light and airy this afternoon. There was a bit of a contrast from the first time you two met. Softer, enchanting, almost ghostly. 

Everything in the room was white. The mattress on the floor had a white comforter and white sheets. The backdrop. The walls. The hardwood floor. The only color was the blue sky that the tall windows let in.

“Here’s a robe. You can change in the bathroom.” Jeno scratched the back of his neck and his eyes wandered everywhere, but your’s. 

“Would you be okay with me just taking off my clothes in here?” You saw the light tint of pink cover his face, and spread to his ears. You examined more of the shy boy’s embarrassed face, finally getting a really good look at him. Jeno was very attractive, and you could only imagine how beautiful he must look if he fully faced you.

Jeno fiddled with his camera strap, “only if you are okay with that.” Clearing his throat, he stood next to the window to give you some privacy. “I’ll go over what I plan on doing. I’m going to take photos of your face details, parts of your body, full body, and portraits. You can lay down on the bed and I’ll direct you in poses. Have you modeled before?”

He was scanning the bustling city below his feet. Cars zoomed quickly and crowds of tiny people flooded the streets. He brought his camera up to his face, not being able to resist the urge to capture such a thrilling sight. 

“If Instagram counts, then yeah. Professional model gig would be a no. Nude photography is a definite no, unless we are talking about being filmed during sex.” Jeno chuckled, while also holding the camera steady and stealing a few moments to keep for himself.

For a strange reason, being naked for a non-sensual reason felt even more vulnerable. Laying on the soft fabric, you felt oddly exposed and slightly more reserved. You’ve had countless strangers see you naked. Men were sexually desiring to see a sexy picture. You were always lusted after, but this feeling of nakedness was special.

“Are you ready?” Jeno gulped, finally setting the camera down. 

You hummed cheerfully. Your heart was leaping out of your chest as the boy shifted slowly to face you. As he turned, you noticed he had his eyes sealed shut, which caused a small laugh to erupt. “Jeno, you have my permission to open your eyes and to look at me.”

Holy shit, he was trembling with an inexplicable fear. The camera was slipping from his sweaty hands. His mouth was as dry as the desert. Jeno’s pounding heart was loud in his ears. 

Jeno has seen his past girlfriends laying naked in bed, but this situation was too different. When he saw you laying there in absolutely nothing, he was overwhelmed, yet astounded at how graceful you appeared.

There was no exchange of words and no exchange of eye contact. He towered over your lying figure and shakily brought the camera to his eyes. He selfishly wanted to capture your elegance. Through the lens, he saw all of you: the curve in your eyelid, your curled eyelashes, the small mole next to your soft lips, the sharp color of your eyes, the way your hair frames your face.

This was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. You were comparable to the arts found in popular museums. Your body lines were enticing and an impressive shape. Your breasts pooled on your chest, the round nude nipple in the centers. Your details had to be sculpted by gods, who took their sweet time making you. You were a true masterpiece. 

Confused, Jeno felt a huge mixture of emotions. Was he aroused? Was he infatuated? Did he just fall in love with a complete stranger? He recognized the same thrilled feelings he felt taking landscape photos. With each click, he grew more excited with how beautiful the photos were turning out.

“Sit up and rest your chin on your left hand. Lean your weight on your right leg.” Jeno’s direction was clear and firm. There was no evidence of a smaller tone he usually spoke in. Sitting up, you placed your elbow on your upper thigh to steady your chin. Jeno had already gotten down to floor level to you. 

Without the camera that separated you two, it had to be the first time he faced you completely in such close proximity. There was so much to admire about Jeno. He remained concentrated on his craft, but it was actually very sexy to see his dedication. It was almost like he was a whole new person, like all the shyness drifted away. 

Jeno couldn’t take his eyes off of you. It wasn’t simply your beauty that amazed him. Your confidence made everything easy. There was something about your blank stares, when he asked for an emotion, you portrayed it perfectly.

“Can we talk while you shoot?” Your sudden voice startled the photographer. He lowered his camera and his gaze automatically wandered off behind you, which didn’t go unnoticed. He nodded after a short pause and the shutter noises continued.

“Why did you choose me as your model?” 

Jeno peeled away from the device, “because you’re you.” He didn’t even know what that statement meant. It wasn’t like he knew you before the first time he asked you to model for him.

The corners of your lips dipped down, drawing an evident frown. Click. Jeno loved that image especially. It was a simple way to get real, authentic facial expressions. He marveled at the photo, but registered the reason behind it. “I wanted to ask you the second I saw you. I just knew that I wanted you.” 

“But you don’t know me.” 

Jeno looked through the lens once again, welcoming a full view of your stunning attributes. He spoke in a low voice, “then, let me know you.” Click. 

It would be the biggest lie to say that you weren’t aroused by Jeno at the moment. He was cool, without trying to be. He really did shine when he had a camera to work with, like a star to a dark night. While he had a distinct demeanor off the bat, you enjoyed unraveling the rest of him. He was, also, the first man you met that didn’t seem sexually driven by a naked woman in his presence. 

You had to resist every urge to push the camera away and share the few seconds of his entire gaze before it wandered away. You wanted to rock his world, he was so innocent and beautiful. You wished to wreak havoc on him, have him show you how much he wanted you. 

+

You anticipated an awkward photoshoot, but Jeno made you feel safe and comfortable. He made sure to adjust the temperature when goosebumps rose on your arms and when your nipples became painfully hard. He never touched you or came too much into your personal space. He always asked for your permission. 

Nude modeling was a new experience for you, but you were surprised at how much you liked it. or how much you liked Jeno taking your photos. He sat next to you on the bed when you put on your articles of clothing and panned through several shots to satisfy your curiosity.

Leaning close, your head ducked to see the photos. A gasp escaped your lips when you saw just the first few. “Is that really me?” The pictures made you feel an abundance of emotions, you felt what they reflected. Sadness, melancholy, happiness, confidence. You didn’t know images had that much power to make you feel that, especially photos of you.

Jeno nodded, smiling so wide that his eyes turned to moon crescents. He was so in love with the results. He found respect for Taemin’s craft and he was right, he might’ve found a new forte to experiment with. “I can send you the photos digitally too, if you want them.”

“Maybe I’ll print them out, frame them, and gift it to every horrid man who has tried to flirt their way to my body since they want to see it so fucking bad.” 

Jeno peered over and saw the tiny glimpse of pain in your orbs, “why would you give horrible people what they want?”

“So they can finally shut up and leave me alone. Plus, this is art and if I tell them it’s actually me, maybe it’ll change their minds to start treating me like it.” 

He held his palm up and almost immediately, your fingers filled the spaces between his. “I’m going to need you to start treating yourself as fine art.”

“Keep taking more photos of me and I just might start thinking I’m Mona Lisa.” Your laughters blended nicely into each other. There was mutual mental acknowledgement of the happiness you were both feeling.

Jeno never let go of your hand, and there was a short moment of comforting silence where you two sat in each other’s existence. You were the one to break it, “are you doing anything after this?” 

He shook his head. “Well then, you’re mine for the rest of the night. We’re going to pretend we’ve been close friends since first year and eat take-out on my bed because that’s what I need at the moment.” 

+

“I know you respect my body and see this as an art form, but I’m genuinely surprised that you didn’t feel aroused at the slightest.”

Jeno didn’t even realize how much time had already passed being you. You two ate and chatted as if you’ve known each other forever, as if the friendship wasn’t established several hours ago. It felt safe and right, like you two belonged in each other’s existence and nowhere else mattered.

He felt warm inside from your hearty laughter and courage, like he was watching a painting come to life or a photo in movement. You were smitten over how endearing and complex he was. He was more than what meets the eye and that alone drew you towards him.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” Jeno paused to watch your reaction, “in the most respectable way, I was somewhat turned on. But! Before you trail blaze me for being just like every disgusting male in your life, I genuinely didn’t have any sexual thoughts during the photoshoot. That was all professional and it will continue to be like that.” 

Getting up from your bed, your mind was working at lightspeed to process his confession. Jeno was fast to pick up someone’s personality, what stood out and what was kept hidden. He knew quicker than anyone else that you were not someone to offend because you were a strong, straight forward woman.

His personality breakdown went like this: you knew what you like, you knew you were going to get what you want, you enjoyed flirty banter (with people of your choice), you weren’t afraid to be blunt, or kick someone’s ass. You carried yourself with confidence that graced your every step, which makes anyone attracted to you instantly. Bold, confident, sexy had to be what came to mind whenever he thought about you. 

Nonetheless, he really liked you as a person. He could pat himself on the back all day long for just approaching you, but he knew the real reason as to how this all happened. It was you saying yes to a stranger’s odd photoshoot. You made him the luckiest man in the world. 

“Continue? Are you looking for excuses to keep seeing me?” You smirked and Jeno’s voice grew small. 

“I--- uh, well,” there goes the nervous stammering, “I know the conditions were a one time thing, so I understand if you don’t want to do it again.” As the night had progressed, Jeno gradually began to hold eye contact and actually looked at you directly without the help of seeing you through a lens. This was the first time he broke it. 

“Hey now, I’m messing with you, Jeno.” He had been sitting on your floor, at the end of your bed. You crawled on your elbows to reach him, and to hold his chin to face you again. Deja vu. “I’d love to get naked for you again, and again, and.. as many times as you want me to.” 

He stared at you with his mouth hung open in disbelief. His eyes scanned your beautiful face to see your lips pull back into a mischievous smile. Gulping, he swallowed every ounce of courage he had left. “You don’t have to say it like that.” He tried to remove your grip, but it latched onto his hand. 

“You’re finally looking me in the eye, sweet thing. I don’t think you realize how much I had been wanting that from you.” You caressed his cheek, rubbing small circles on his texture. 

“What else do you want from me?” His implication sounded suggestive, even if his curiosity was innocent. 

Your hot breath brushed against Jeno’s lips. “I can show you.”

Jeno, the one and only college guy who has seen your naked body in a non-sexual context. Jeno, the shy, sweet boy who appreciated and recognized you as a form of art. Jeno, the talented and skillful photographer, who consistently made sure you felt comfortable. Jeno, the only person in the world who you’d model nude for. Jeno, the dazzling character behind the camera who you wanted more than anyone else you’ve ever met. Lee Jeno.

He seemed like he was inching closer, already tilting his head to fit your’s. You smiled to yourself, seeing that your words were received well. Diving in, your lips swam together fervently. 

The poor boy found himself lost in your enchanting, alluring gaze. He let the trance consume him, selfishly kissing the art he admired so dearly. A small part of him felt the guilt and confusion that began to rise. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly wished to feel your lips on his neck, or run his hands across your hot skin. He swore these thoughts were not present earlier. 

A small pop! and Jeno held your shoulder to pull away. “I’m sorry, did I do something?” You asked, honestly concerned that you were taking more than you deserved. The least you desired was to hurt Jeno, who had been nothing but nice and sweet.

“(Y/N),” you could listen to your name roll off his tongue all day, “I feel somewhat guilty. I don’t want things to be misunderstood.”

“Which would be?”

“I don’t want you to think I coerced you into being my model just because I had intentions to sleep with you.” Jeno was already gathering his things, but you hopped off your bed and placed a hand on his chest. “Because that’s what it’s starting to look like at the moment.”

“Was that something you did though? Did you have those intentions?” Your stare bore right through him. The warmth of your hand relaxed his racing heart.

“Never, (Y/N), I would never do that to someone.” Your hand traveled down to grab his belongings and tossed it back onto the ground. 

He silently watched as you took off your pants, and stood in front of him in your underwear. “Then, we’re fine. I know your intentions have always been pure. But truthfully, Jeno, seeing you focused while you worked sparked something in me. You don’t understand how aroused I got and how badly I wanted you to fuck me on that bed.” His hand trailed up your exposed thighs, finally touching your softness. “You’re the one guy I wanted first, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt that.” 

“I-- I don’t know what to say.” His cheeks revealed how embarrassed he was, but his dark, lustful eyes were telling a different story.

A smirk fell upon your face, “then don’t say anything.” 

Jeno devoured you, inhaling the light hint of vanilla that still lingered. He hoisted you onto your mattress and kissed you like his life depended on it. His antsy hands roamed your free range, exploring, holding, gripping the parts he marveled over. Small moans from the back of your throat encouraged him to continue.

No one has ever kissed you with the amount of passion Jeno did. It was gentle, with enough vigor to cause your panties to dampen. It wasn’t sloppy, where previous guys had a problem of missing your mouth entirely and slobbered your chin. 

His lips worshiped you, highlighting your good sides. Flashes of the photoshoot popped into Jeno’s head as he left purple marks on the places he loved capturing the most. He pushed up your shirt, exposing your chest to him again. His tongue circled around your hard nipple as he made sure to give the same amount of attention to each one. 

Jeno knew he was too shy to hold your intense stare, but getting to know you during and after the photoshoot, he could see the softness in your gaze. He was, now, able to see all of you. The sight of you through the camera was addicting enough, so finally taking you all in was more than satisfying. 

Your hands ran through his hair as he kissed down your torso. His thumbs hooked the waistband of your underwear, and peeled it off your body. You gasped as the cold air from your apartment grazed against your exposed figure.

Jeno paused to admire your glistening pussy, “would it be okay if you let me make love to you?”

Your heart burned, not out of embarrassment, but at how he still managed to ask you for your permission in the sweetest way. You rested your weight on your elbows, “no one has done that before, would it actually make me want to fall in love with you?”

“It wouldn’t be too bad. I have a lot of love to give and you look like a person who deserves all of it anyways.” Jeno’s finger ran over your wet slit and rubbed your clit slowly.

Your moans filled the room as the electric jolted throughout your veins. The wetness grew, seeping out of you like a waterfall. Jeno dropped down to his knees, and lifted your legs on his broad shoulders.

“Are you usually this wet, baby?”

Chuckling, you smiled at his bold choice in using pet names, “Just for you.”

He hummed, chiming at how he liked your answer. Spreading you open, his tongue met with your swollen bud that begged for his licks.

His tongue darted side to side, up and down and in result, your back arched in pleasure and a darkness clouded your mind. His name and mindless profanities streamlined their way out of you as Jeno ate you out in such a precisely delicious way.

Grabbing a fist full of hair, you pulled him closer, even if there was no more space to fill. Looking down, you two exchanged glances before he thrusted a finger into you. Your hips bucked harder as he eased in another one.

Jeno curled his fingers in search of your sweet spot and found it when a deep moan escaped your throat. His fingertips rubbed and pressed into your plush flesh, causing you to practically scream and squirm in his mouth. 

He suckled your clit and fingered you simultaneously and quickly. The pleasure was overflowing and you released his hair to grip your sheets below you. Your legs shook and trembled as he had no caution to stop.

“Please, I’m going to--” you could barely talk due to your face contouring to the splurge of pleasure every single time Jeno rubbed your spot. “--to explode.” 

He had to take back what he thought earlier in the day. This was the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid eyes on. The whole scene played like from one of his favorite films. It felt like he was giving his photos life. Your body twisted and turned, accentuating the curves of your lines. 

Jeno had become painfully hard against the fabric of his jeans, but seeing you fall apart because of his minimal movements exhilarated him. “P-Please, don’t stop.” A breathy moan followed suit and your thighs tried to press themselves together. Jeno didn’t allow it, his free hand hooked underneath your left thigh to pull one side away from his cheeks.

Your high gradually grew so tall that it all eventually came cascading down. Your legs shook violently and sat up from the euphoria that took over you. Jeno prolonged your buzz and you screamed loudly, having to bite down on your fingers to stop yourself from angering your neighbors.

Jeno drank you up, letting your wetness cover his chin and drip down his knuckles. He pulled away, at last, and you took deep breaths to control your heavy breathing. It was like Jeno knocked the wind completely out of you. 

He stood up and you saw the outline of his hard bulge straining itself through his jeans. The next scene was quite animalistic. You, still embodying your high, sat on your knees and unzipped his pants with your needy hands.

“Now, it’s your turn to get nude for me.” You whispered, tauntingly. Jeno groaned when you reached down and gently pulled him out. He stepped out of his clothing, all of it. His shirt was lost in the corner and his bottoms were scattered over your floor. Mirroring his actions, you took off your last piece of cloth.

Jeno was built. Though his biceps did not go unnoticed during the photoshoot, you were surprised at the lines of muscle that sketched his body. It made your mouth water, seeing his extremely hard dick stand against his toned abs. His red tip fell just below his navel. Jeno only kept getting better as the night continued on.

Pulling him closer, his hand found their way to the back of your head as you aligned your mouth to the wetness that spilled from his tip. “I want to make you feel good.” Jeno’s hoarse voice made your knees weak.

Peering up, you batted your eyelashes at him fondly. “Just a little taste?” You begged, having to hold his shaft with both of your hands because of his thickness. Your tongue was already stuck out, your hot breath causing the tiniest bit of sensation for him.

He nodded and his eyes were trained on you. He didn’t want to miss any second of your kitty licks. You flattened your tongue against his warmth, dragging it up to the top. The saltiness hit your palette as you swirled around his redness. “Oh--” Jeno threw his head back and bit his lip, “--lay on the bed now.” 

You smiled sweetly and gave his member a quick kiss before reaching for a condom in your drawer. Jeno climbed onto your bed and situated the rubber comfortably. You laid on your back and he was fast to pull your legs around his waist. 

He lined himself at your entrance and eased his tip in slowly. Squirming, you craved him to fill you up to the brim. He leaned down to kiss you, letting your tongue lap with his. It’s your hands with the mind of their own when they flew automatically to hold his face whenever you wanted to deepen the kiss. Then, Jeno stretched himself all the way in and he caught your gasp with his lips. He groaned, feeling the mess he created merely minutes ago. 

His hips moved so easily with your wetness, but he went slow. Dragging out each pull and then, pushing himself back in roughly. “Jeno!” Your body jolted up the bed each time. His body fell over yours to hold you intimately, letting you bury your face into his neck. Your lips latched themselves onto his sensitive skin, painting a purple sunset. 

Jeno’s arms snaked underneath your thighs as he pressed them to your chest, folding you almost into a ball. Your mouth hung open as he fucked you harder, rougher, deeper yet keeping the tempo rhythmically slow. At this point, you could feel his hits in your gut. Your weak hands gripped loosely around his strong wrists that held your legs down. “You’re pussy is so tight and holy shit---, you keep getting more beautiful.”

A familiar burning sensation set in your chest as you saw how concentrated his face had become. You were so fucked out that you could barely speak, “you—” his hips mercilessly slammed into you powerfully, enacting a low moan every time he reached your sweet spot. “—keep surprising me.” His actions came to a halt and he stared deeply into your soul. 

You whined, wiggling your hips for any friction. He held them down into the mattress, knowing his grip was strong enough to leave a mark. “I told you, I was going to make love to you tonight.”

“I’ve already fallen for you.” You said breathlessly, tracing the side of his face and pecking his lips softly. 

“You don’t understand what you’re doing to me by saying those things.” He whispered and pushed his entire shaft to fill you to your brim. 

You yelped his name and gripped his shoulders, but he wasn’t done yet. “Show me how badly you wanted me the first time you saw me.” Jeno blinked at you in slight shock. 

As he continued to hold the deep gaze, he kept pushing his dick further and further into you. He was balls deep, almost impossible to keep going. He fucked you without the need to pull out, just burying his cock deeper into your wet pussy. You exclaimed, moaned, cussed at every push. Holding the stare was more than enough to lose yourself all over him again. 

Jeno was drunk with the image of your fucked out expression and every time the mixture of pleasure and pressure caused your eyebrows to crease and mouth to open release sensual sound. He had been trying his best not to come undone, to fixate another climax for you.

The feeling of you wrapping tighter and tighter around him drove him insane. “Give it to me, please.” Your muffled plead called for his release, but he could feel that you were close to your second.

Jeno sat up on his knees and pulled you into his arms where your thighs fell over his. You groaned at the empty feeling, though it was quickly replaced with a gratifying moan when he inserted himself again. Your arms dangled around his neck, foreheads touching intimately. 

The fucking eye contact again, how could you get enough of it? You giggled, amused at how different Jeno was when he eventually opened up. He wrapped his strong arms around your back and thrusted his hips up into you. The way this man made you squirm, scream, and shake were nothing you’ve experienced before. 

He smirked, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek when he went rampage on your pussy. “Not laughing now, are you?”

You whined in pleasure, brushing your fallen strands of hair out of his face. “Shut up before I make you.” 

“Then I’d rather keep going.” Kissing up his jawline, you lead your way to his pout. His kisses intoxicated you with his passion and madness, like the most intense part of a symphony, or when the bass drops after a long build up in a song. 

Jeno sped up, ramming up into your slick pussy over and over again. He even brought your hips down to match him, guiding you down as he went up. The headboard was knocked against the wall, your windows steamed up, cries of pleasure from the both of you created the ambiance, the smell of sex filled your lungs. Jeno reached between your bodies to furiously rub your clit to where it felt almost raw. It all sent you into the clouds, the familiar queasiness settled in your lower half.

Your eyes rolled back and your back arched, having to pull away from the desirous kiss with Jeno. “I’m cumming!” You announced before the tension unraveled, causing you to see absolute white. The second wave was much more uncontrollable, Jeno felt you squeezing radically around his dick as he tried to fuck you faster to prolong the feeling.

Your legs shook around his and your upper body went limp with pleasure. You reached the peak of the mountain and it came crumbling down underneath your toes. It was catastrophically enthralling, to the point where you physically felt something leave your body.

“Oh shit..” Jeno stopped his motions at the sight of you squirting over his lap. He pampered your torso with fluttering kisses, hoping to calm your spastic body. “...baby, are you okay?” He asked with a bit of concern of how lack of life you seemed. 

This man just gave you the best climax in your whole life and he asked if you were okay? Regaining your senses, you sighed a small yes to reassure him that he didn’t actually murder you. Hopping off, you pulled the condom that restricted him.

He hissed when you cupped his balls in your palm. “Cum, my sweet thing.” You purred and Jeno’s hand pumped his member aggressively. You leaned in to help, sucking the tip and flicking your tongue over his slit. 

His other hand gripped your neck, causing you to drip on your sheets. Jeno was panting and with every tug, it became louder. He seemed so desperate to release that it made you smile to be the reason behind it. “Can you lay down,” A grunt followed his question, “please.” He huffed.

“Because you asked nicely.” Smirking, your back hit the sheets and you opened your legs to give Jeno a view. He situated himself above your stomach, as he fucked his tight grip.

“I’m cumming---” He couldn’t look any more amazing. With a final moan, the white streaks streamed out in short sequences. It landed across your abdomen, over your nipple, and pooled around your belly button. 

Bringing himself back to reality, Jeno stepped back to marvel you, his masterpiece. The white streaks coated your purple skin and your chest rose fast to catch your reality. Gazing upon your naked body, he was utterly infatuated with all of you. He was so in love with the sight of you that not a single photo could capture the beauty that you were. 

Jeno pondered the thought of how merely a day changed a small part of him. You were life changing, addicting, an incomparable character that he felt like he’s known forever, and now, couldn’t live without. It was the taste of your juices on his lips, your sweet melodic music that was your voice, your daring smile that enticed him to never peel away from you. It was simply you. 

He leaned down to rub his knuckles against your cheek, planting a lovingly peck on your forehead. “I’ll go start the water for you.” 

+

Jeno anticipated the reaction of his mentor. He found himself at the same scene he was when he was first given the task. Taemin sat across from him, hunched forward to analyze his new set of photos on his laptop. Raw, unedited photos of you, your body, your details. 

The hum of the air conditioning droned on, driving him mad. Jeno needed one reaction, but Taemin had been silent and expressionless for the past ten minutes. Whenever he did move, it was to click through to the next picture. 

Suddenly, he shut it closed and stood right up. Jeno, panicked, did the same. Taemin stuck his hand out and Jeno hesitantly grabbed it, incredibly unsettled and unable to read the older man.

Taemin received it firmly, giving Jeno a good handshake. “Welcome abroad, Lee Jeno. I expect even more great things from you.” 

Jeno registered his delightful mood switch and he was fast to follow up, “my photos, --- you --- like them?” 

Taemin nodded generously, patting Jeno on his shoulder. Taemin reached up to tap his own eyelids. “What you can see, is very special, kid. You’re an artist and I’m here to recognize that for you. It seems to me, you can do more than take pictures of sidewalks.” 

Jeno smiled happily, his eyes disappearing from joy. He couldn’t wait to tell you about it. 

The rest of the week, leading up to Jeno’s appointment, had felt nothing short of blissful moments together. You and Jeno spent almost every waking minute together without the cost of your friends’ time. He walked you to your classes, some even being across the campus from his own. You accompanied him for meals, even sitting in his lectures to just be with him.

There were no words that established what you two had become to each other. Jeno wasn’t looking for that anyways, in fact, he somewhat liked the ambiguity. If only he could tell you how making love to you made him begin to actually fall for you.

You were never one to hold a serious relationship, but you found a small want for that festering in Jeno. It was hard to admit to yourself, but Jeno saw you for all that you were. He truly saw you, whether it had been through a lens or through his own eyes. He captured your rawness and you were able to find vulnerability around him. 

He ran to you, where you sat in the lobby waiting for him to finish his meeting. Peering up from your phone, you noticed the beaming smile on the boy’s face. You couldn��t hold back your own grin, seeing him apparent with so much joy. “I’m guessing good things?”

“I got it, (Y/N)!” He jumped into your arms and you laughed at the sudden affection. “He loved my photos.” 

“I didn’t doubt it for one second. You’re an artist, Jeno. You create masterpieces that make even someone like me, feel like art.” 

Jeno hugged you closer to his chest, giving you a tiny squeeze. Pulling away to face you, his eyes examined your outstanding grace. You knew what he was already going to say, but simply wanted to hear him say it. “That’s because you are art.”

[my-plastic-life]

A Feudal Fairy Tale

The time has finally come. This is a project that has been in the works for 11 months, started last November. If we’re being technical, it could be considered a project 17 years in the making considering I first had the idea randomly in high school.

It’s no secret that I’m a massive fan of Inuyasha. I owe a lot to the series. It’s the first anime I ever saw, and it’s what introduced me to the entire anime and manga genre, sparked my interest in Japanese cultures and customs, and has even helped me make some amazing friends. My collection began in high school with the Toynami action figures, and since the release of the show’s sequel (Yashahime) in October 2020, my collection has tripled with new figures, jewelry, and other merchandise.

I also had the 12″ collector’s edition doll in high school, and when I got him in the mail (this was back before eBay had PayPal, so we had to get and send a money order before he even shipped), I was thrilled. I then thought, “You know, he needs a Kagome doll to go with him!” But that was it, and Inuyasha went into a display case, where he stayed for all these years. Until Yashahime dropped.

At that point, I knew I wanted to make a Kagome doll to go with him. I’d made some custom dolls already at this point, so I thought surely I could pull this off. Of course, being a perfectionist with a touch of OCD is both a blessing and a curse...

But at last, this idea has become a reality! In honor of the anime’s 20th anniversary, the manga’s 25th anniversary, and the premiere of the sequel’s second season, meet my one of a kind Kagome Higurashi doll in one-sixth scale! Along with all her props! Posts showing behind the scenes progress photos are coming soon!

Oh, and I’m nothing if not authentic... all these backgrounds are actual scenes from the anime, printed out from paused TV screens!

Traveling through the well:

She loves her bike!

Wearing the Shikon No Tama necklace, walking through Kaede’s village:

Wearing the necklace with the broken jewel:

Counting the sacred jewel shards (yes, they’re in the bottle - the world’s tiniest bottle of sacred jewel shards!)

Hit the mark!

Shooting a sacred arrow:

Time for ninja food! Inuyasha has his favorite, instant noodles!

Next up: Dry potatoes! Kagome is like, “Excuse you, but someone else may have wanted some of those chips.”

“SIT, BOY!”

Red thread of fate: " An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break."

“Where we first met.”

“I wanted to see you.”

Diorama display (this is inside a bookshelf covered with plexiglass):

Thank you to all who contributed to making this doll come to life! This wouldn’t be possible without you!

CREDITS: Reroot by Paradise Doll Designs School uniform by elenpriv Priestess outfit by FabHat Backpacks (large and small) by MiniMichCrafts Face paint by me Bow and arrows by me Quiver customization by me School books by me Bike customization by me Sacred jewel shards & bottle by me (bottle was ReMent) Well made by me (with help from my dad and hubby!) Sacred tree by me Shippo by my friend Samantha Rash

[bokunosimpfiction]

Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt 3

A/N: Since y’all demanded a plot that’s what you’ll get. Will it be good? No. I’ve never written anything with a plot in my entire life. Ever. Not even when I did Nanowrimo or whatever. I just bullshitted the whole thing. Like I’ll do with this fic. Y’all are going to have to remind me to update because I have the attention span of a goat. I’ll try to update this on Saturdays??? IDK at this point. ALSO, WHY THE FUCK IS THIS SO POPULAR?????????? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NOTES THIS HAS ON AO3???? 69????SIXITY FUCKING NINE??? I HATE EVERYTHING MY LEGACY WILL BE READER CALLING HEISENBERG DOOFSCHMIRTZ I HATE EVRYTHING DSHFUGSADFJ

Synopsis: You have totally, %100, given up on escaping. Totally. You haven't been gathering supplies for one, final last hurray. Nope. Totally not. All you have to do is persuade Heisenberg of that so you can change your mind at the last minute. Y’all know the trigger warning for this series but if you don’t tw:kidnapping (implied)

Taglist: it’s exclusivly @localdepressedvampire​  so if you want to be on it for just this story or for all my pieces fill out the google doc in my pinned post or dm me and I’ll put you on it. :)

             You’ve made a breakthrough in your long-term plan of escapism. Even with the mini escape attempts that were really about exploring the factory and less about actually trying to get out, you hadn’t made a lot of progress: until now.

             Well, two, really… Okay, maybe 1 ½. Firstly, you found a sawed-off two-barrel shotgun. With ammo. In fact, there was a various amount of ammo around the factory, but no actual gun. Until now. The second discovery, which is nowhere near as useful, was a window. Which was probably 50 or more feet up from the ground. You didn’t get a chance to inspect it that much, considering as soon as you saw it and got a glimpse at the far-off ground, you had to run again from Lycans.

             Which gives you a basic idea of a way to escape. You knew where the ammo was, you knew where the gun was and had a route to the edge of the building, and hopefully could find stairs at the end of the hallway. Now all you had to do was find a time where you could be gone long enough to get a decent head start before, he notices you’re even gone. Even when he was in the workshop, he kept a close eye on you, keeping you in arms-length to the point where it taxed on both of your mental health.

             And even then, in that chair in the small room, you watch him work in the finer details on something the size of your head and torso. You try not to look at the phone in your lap, he doesn’t even know you have it, much less how great the reception is in the building. How did he not know about his old phone that was still working fine? Oh well, he doesn’t need to know you’re looking at memes and reading feel-good wolf-star fanfic on ao3.

             The best idea you had was to leave him while he was asleep, but there were two some issues with that: he clung to you like his life depended on it, your back to his chest and arms around you almost tight enough to keep you awake; it was dark as hell in the hallways of the factory as is, but it would be impossible to navigate safely with the lights; and the Lycans were most active outside at night, which was where you were trying to go. They’ve tried to eat you before as they show no discrimination on food.

             The only way to get a good enough head start would be to leave while he didn’t notice you were gone, and wouldn’t notice for a long, long time. And that when it hit you. The only time he ever left you by yourself was when he had to deal with the other three lords. And while he left you in that basement that you originally woke up in, you had memorized your way out and found that going up five flights of stairs took you to that faithful widow.

             Would you have enough time to explore and look for an actual exit/entrance, or should you play it safe and find a way to go out that window. You wanted to laugh to yourself, you’d never think that going down a 50ft plus drop would be considered safe, but here you were, kidnapped and held hostage by one of the people your late grandmother warned you not to associate with, or even go near. The letter you received directly quoted “the four lords and their mother, Mother Miranda, are not to be approached or associated with at any costs. You’ll know them when you see them, they smell like death and money. See them and run.”

             You can’t help but find that ironic, considering that you did try to run, heeded her warning, and still faced the consequences that were far worse than she had warned you about. You regretted coming here, to this small village, when you first arrived: no friends, and even those you tried to approach held you to her standard and expected them to be just like her. You were far from her kind and optimistic nature (at least that’s what you heard of her; you hadn’t even known of her whereabouts until she was dead).

             Even the duke, who had helped smuggle you into the village, didn’t seem fond of you. It was a shame, you tried so hard to impress him. But he saw you to a point where you could easily reach her old cottage without having too many issues, turned his cart around, and left without a good-bye. It bothered you to no end that your only companion for about a year or so was an elderly outside cat and the creaking noises the walls made at night.

             And then the cat died and not even a week later you got kidnapped. You never considered yourself lucky, but damn if that wasn’t the worst streak of luck you’ve had in a long time.

             You pretend to turn a page in your book and scroll through your Instagram feed, seeing friends having fun at the beach, or studying at the library, or your old best friend taking selfies in provocative clothing to your ex-boyfriend. Did she forget he cheated on you? She wasn’t always the smartest, but she brought that heartbreak upon herself. You see a photo of your mom, she had posted a picture of a black and white photo of her with her mom, you’re guessing, you have no idea who that old woman is.

             This is the last photo I had with my mom before she died. We lost contact after I moved out. I wish we parted on better terms, Nana.

             She’s in a prairie dress, holding an ancient-looking key in one hand, and the other wrapped around her mom, a middle-aged woman with long hair in two braids and a face that had too many stress wrinkles. You guess your mom was as bad as you were in college. The background looks dreary. You would have guessed it to be the quality of the photo if you hadn’t recognized the house behind them as the house you lived in used to live in.

             The loops on the handle of the key look familiar. You spread your fingers apart to zoom in and see the blurry engravings on the side. It was the payment you gave to sneak into the village. You thought it was a worthless family heirloom at most and found it strange that he had even found interest in the key, or even valued it deeper than money in general. Maybe this photo or other photos of you and your family would help out.

             Why is that key suddenly piquing your interest? Were you that bored, as to sit there and think about a key that was at least twice your age? A key that you didn’t even have. You needed a hobby besides escapism and rejecting your captor’s sexual advances. You look up at him again, only to find him leaning against the desk, hat off and sunglass placed on his forehead, his gaze on you. It wasn’t his normal piercing one, that studied you and calculated your every move, but soft and lazy. His current gaze was dreamy; he was daydreaming about you. You found that equally undaring s it was unnerving.

             “Karl.”

             “Yes, Sweetiepea?” Honestly, what the fuck.

             “Firstly, why are you staring at me like that? Secondly, that is the most disgusting way to use that pet name. I need to take a shower after you called me that.”

             He chuckles light-heartedly. Even his softer more genuine, happy chuckles are booming and loud. “Okay… Sugarplum!” And he busts out laughing.

             Clearly dodging the first question and focusing on the second. You can’t believe you gave him ammo for his annoying-you-gun. And you thought you’d grown immune to most of his… less-savory traits. Were you growing used to him? Next thing you know you’re going to like him and develop Stockholm syndrome!

             “You’re a shit head, hobo magneto…” You turn your head away and let your hair cover half your face so he can’t see you smile. You’ll miss him when you escape and get the duke to smuggle you back to your home in Bucharest. But only a little. Just because calling Heisenberg these names are funny.

             “Why don’t you call me by my name, I know you know it.”

             “You sure about that?” You quip back.

             “You’ve lived with me for at least two months now!”

             “Hm…. I think I know your name! It’s uh…” You are totally faking not knowing his name. “It’s… Heidi Carlson? Yeah, that sounds about right!”

             “It’s Karl Heisenberg!”

             “Quit being so silly, Heidi! Maybe it’s nap-time!” This was a little too fun.

             He looks back at his project for a moment and genuinely considers it. “I know you’re being antagonistic but you’re probably right.” And with that, he walks towards you and goes to scoop you up. You have to shut your book quickly in order for him not to notice the phone in between its pages before you let him pick you up.

             He immediately notices that. “Are… Are you sick?”

             “No! Of course not!” Because you genuinely aren’t sick, and he’s already up in your business as-is, you don’t need him dotting on you because he thinks you’re sick or something. You’ll go fucking crazy.

             “You’ve put in zero effort into anything remotely physical since your last little failed escape attempt.” He gave it a little bit of thought. “You’ve given up, haven’t you, and you’re just depressed about it aren’t you?”

             You want to say no, you really do, but if Heisenberg thinks you’ve given up on escaping, perhaps it’ll give you enough space to plan the big one. The reverse heist so to speak. “No- I… okay maybe I have but I still don’t like you.

             He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good girl. Now let’s get us that well-deserved nap.”

             You plug your nose and turn away as a joke. “You’ve gotta take a bath first, you smell like oil and sweat.” You don’t fight it, because you have to play the part, but you still have to act a little bit like yourself.

             “Okay, fine doll, but don’t think you’ve escaped my barrage of affection, because as soon as I get out of the shower-“

             You bonk him. And he looks at you so confused before he smiles and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. You try to hold the bile back in your mouth and lean forward and peck his lips before leaning back. You failed at trying to not visibly gag.

             “Ew… I can’t believe I just kissed you.”

             “Well, I guess someone caught feelings… Didn’t they?”

[runwithwolvcs]

You Know I'm No Good - four

First Day

Warnings: mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of sex

[photo of Tallulah and Lina]

don't call me kid, don't call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

Tallulah was the first one awake in the morning, the sunrise just peeking through her blinds as she laid in bed on her side, staring at the wall. She struggled to get back to sleep and tossed and turned, feeling an uncomfortable pit in her stomach that she decided had something to do with it being her first day at La Push Tribal School.

Starting a new school in the second semester of her senior year did not bother her as much as it should have, what concerned her more was that she was walking into a school that never gets new students, let alone mid semester. All eyes were going to be on her, and she was sure that some of them had already conjured up their own preconceived notions of her. Oh the joys of small town gossip, she thought to herself as she climbed out of bed, grabbing her clothes for the day. She told herself that making friends was not a must here, because as soon as she graduates she will be back in Seattle with her old, real friends, living the life that she wants to live. She could let herself be picky, or else she’ll end up with a Josie, who seems trustworthy on the outside, but isn’t in the end. Tallulah rolled her eyes at the thought itself, if that's how she wants to be then so be it.

Tallulah quickly changed into her black tank and oversized flannel shirt, before pulling on her jeans, she tried to tame her hair without ruining her natural waves into a frizzy mess. She wasn't one for much makeup, especially not for school considering the frequent rain on pacific northwest.

Rushing downstairs to the kitchen, the uncomfortable pit curbing her appetite, Tallulah settled on just coffee, as she poured it into her mug she had grabbed from the cupboard, she heard footsteps entering the kitchen. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Lenna out of the corner of her eye, all dolled up as if she were going to Paris Fashion Week.

“I heard about what Josie did.” Lenna stated as she searched through the fridge, “you’ll get used to it.” This made Tallulah scoff audibly, “get used to being thrown under the bus for doing absolutely nothing wrong beside talking to some guy I’ve never even met before yesterday?” she asked sarcastically, turning to face her younger sister, mug in hand. “No, well, yes. It just means she did something she doesn’t want to get in trouble for, so she throws gasoline on someone else's fire to make it seem bigger than the one she started.” She keeps her eye on the tall, raven-haired girl as she closes the door, “She means well Tally.” I bet, she thought to herself. Maybe this is what sisters do, and she's the one that's being unreasonable. To be fair, she's never had to deal with someone snitching right in front of her face to her mother. At least she had the guts to do it at the dinner table.

She watched as Lenna looked over her outfit, making a face that Tallulah couldn’t quite comprehend, “is there something wrong with my outfit?” she asked, eyebrows raised in challenge. Lenna shook her head, “Nope, not at all. Between that, the tattoos and the nicotine addiction, I’d say you’ll fit right in with a few groups at school. I can point them out if you’d like, I heard dad tossed your vape maybe you can snag one today.” Tallulah shook her head before taking a sip of her cooling coffee, “I can make my own friends, and I’m not addicted” she fought the urge to roll her eyes again as their dad walked into the kitchen, clearly dressed for work. “Tally, Lenny, ready for school? Dakota picked up your sister already this morning, something about a project that's not finished yet” the short laugh that came from Lenna did not go unnoticed by Tallulah, but she said nothing, nodding her head at her fathers question. “I have to go to a tribal meeting tonight with Kira, so it’s going to be pizza for dinner, Lenny can pick it up on her way home from work, right Len?” he asked as he filled his to-go mug with coffee, even though he really wasn't asking, “Tal,” he said, looking directly at his eldest daughter, “I know this has been a big change in just a few days, but you’re doing great kid, but let's keep those rules in mind when making friends today,” clearly referring to something she has no clue about. “So, you mean I can’t skip school and sneak Paul through my window while you’re gone?” she joked half heartedly. She had no intention of ever speaking to him today, but seeing the looks on Lenna and their dad's face was probably the best start to her day she was going to get. She finished off her coffee and placed her mug in the sink, grabbing her book bag from the counter and heading to the front door, yelling ‘kidding!’ over her shoulder as she left, while her dad yelled ‘have fun!’ right back at her.

Tallulah drove in silence to the school, following the directions Josie had shown her during their day out, for once wanting to be early. She wanted to scope out all her classrooms beforehand to minimize the amount of interaction she would have to have with anyone in order to just keep her head down and float by as unnoticed as she could.

As she pulled into the small parking lot there were very few students and teachers mulling around. The school itself was small, only two stories, with a few portables that were quite run down. Nothing like her old school of 5000 students, every hallway crowded and parking lot full every day.

Tallulah parked her car and pulled out her phone from her pocket, checking the few messages she had, despite it only being 8 in the morning. One message was from her mom, wishing her well on her first day, telling her she had shipped the rest of her personal belongings that she may want or need and that she loved her. Tallulah rolled her eyes, she loved her so much she didn’t want to deal with her anymore. She checked some more of her messages and replied to those that warranted them only stopping as the incoming call notification lit up her screen.

A photo of Lina, her best friend, and her graced the screen, she quickly hit accept before placing the phone to her ear, breathing out a quickie ‘hello’. The two haven’t been able to have a conversation in days to discuss the tragedy that had unfolded the night her mom caught her sneaking into her bedroom, the dramatic gasp on the other line made her smile, “You picked up!” Lina all but shouted excitedly, before saying to someone else ‘told you she would’, clearly she wasn’t alone. “Of course I did, Li. Just because I've been shipped off to the middle of nowhere doesn’t mean I dropped out of school.” she said looking at the tiny building, that more students were now filing into. “Besides, I always answer your calls.” she stated, which made Lina laugh into the phone, “Right, right. Well I was just calling to see how you were, Kits here too.” she said and she could hear Kit bid a hello in the background, “and we wanted to invite you to this party that's happening at some club in Port Angeles next Friday. We figured it would give you some time to ask your dad if you can come or plan an escape. He can’t keep you from us forever.” she rambled, clearly excited.

She knew what club she was talking about, they had been planning on going once they had all turned 18. As exciting as it sounded, she knew her dad would never go for it, and sneaking out to Port Angeles and back would be next to impossible. “I don’t know about that, Li, but I'll try. I’m sure I could convince him to let you guys come out here if he doesn’t budge?” she asked absentmindedly, hoping she’d take the bait. Tallulah listened as Lina talked to someone away from the speaker before hearing the phone be passed to someone new, she furrowed her brows at the silence before the new speaker breathed out, “Luie.”

Xander.

The only person on planet earth who was allowed to call her ‘Luie’. The nickname started with him and ended with him. She hated the nickname when he had first started using it, he would say it in such a condescending way. Like he was reprimanding a child, but it grew on her as her relationship with him developed. They had never dated, but everyone assumed they were with how touchy-feely they were with each other. But, they both hated commitment, saying that it was the root of all sadness, and they had enough of that in their life already. As if that stopped them from hurting each other anyways. Xander was all of her firsts, first friend, first kiss, first time drinking alcohol with him, first cigarette, first time sneaking out, and first hookup. It's why she always went back to him after a fight, no matter how bad it was, all her good memories are tied to him.

“Hey, Xan” she said softly, “Are you coming to Port Angeles for the party?” he asked in a nonchalant tone, knowing she could never say no to him. “I want to..” she started, “But no promises. My dads a lot stricter compared to my mom.” Tallulah heard him grunt in acknowledgment. He wasn’t going to beg, or plead her to come like Kit or Lina would, he knew he didn’t have to. “Well, let us know, ya?” he stated, voices in the background signaled that they were most likely getting ready to take the train to school, like she would be in normal circumstances. “Oh, and Luie, have a don’t do anything I wouldn’t do on your first day.” she could practically hear the grin that she knew he had before the line went dead, he wasn’t much for formal goodbyes.

Sighing, she shoved her phone in her pocket before exiting her car, grabbing her bag off of the passenger seat and slinging it over her shoulder. She made sure to lock the car before placing her keys in her bag and grabbing her timetable as she walked towards the entrance of the school. She was too busy trying to figure out what classroom she needed to head to first that she wasn’t paying any attention to any of her surroundings. Hence why she walked head on into someone, dropping the white sheet of paper in the process. Hot hands steadying her by the arms. It felt as if she had walked straight into a brick wall, she would’ve laughed it off if it wasn’t the root of all her problems so far in La Push.

“Are you stalking me?” she asked the older man, everywhere she went, there he was. Paul shook his head with a chuckle, causing the teen to glare up at him. “Well aren’t you a little too old to be hanging around a high school?” she questioned, arms crossing over her body as the heat from his hands had made her realize just how cold it was outside once they were off of her. “Relax, I was just dropping someone off.” he stated, his voice was deeper than it was the day before, like he had just woken up. She averted her eyes from him as she could feel the blush heat to her face at how silly she must have sounded. Of course that's why he's here. She hadn’t realized he had picked up her schedule for her until he read out a name from it, “First period: Miss. Young.You’ll like her, everyone does.” he said while handing her back the slip. She nodded her head, “right, well i should go find her class then.” she mumbled as she took a step back from him, he responded by giving her the directions to the class, which made her want to question how he knew that but Tallulah wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer, so instead, she thanked him and walked away heading towards the front doors, each step closer she filled more and more with dread, wanting to turn around and get in her car and drive away as far as she could.

She turned back to where she had left Paul standing to see him still there, only now he was talking on the phone. His whole demeanor had changed, he looked rigid and frustrated. Before she turned to completely walk through the doors, he caught her eye and gave her a small smile, the feeling of dread dissipating in that moment as she entered her new school.

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Finding Significance in Simple Things | Jancy

Prompt: Future AU/Post-Canon

Words: 2364

Fandom: Stranger Things

A/N: A spin-off set a year after the [Somebody to Love] series. Could be read as a stand-alone, since they’re mostly background in that series. Tentative -verse name is “We Will Always Have Hawkins” or WWAHH-verse lol I think it just sounds neat and I got it from one the series' future chapters. Mentions Steddie and Jopper.

Summary: Freelance photography work had been coming in steadily, but after a while, Jonathan started to look for something more. One night, he heard rumors of sketchy activities that sounded all too familiar in a small town in Long Island.

-

He didn’t realize that a small place like Montauk would have this many expensive places. It was a small town east of Long Island that thrived in the fishing and tourism industry. Unlike Hawkins that didn’t really have anything noteworthy besides the so-called curse and the rest of the messed up stuff that the government covered up. What was similar, though, was the rumors behind this seemingly unassuming town. There were articles about residents reporting strange activities at the old military base, UFO sightings, random blackouts across town, clocks stopped working properly, and people going missing.

Jonathan placed the Montauk Point tour guide book down and sighed, looking at the array of articles he managed to find. It was overwhelming. While he managed to track down the connections, he still thought that Nancy would have been quicker. Nancy…

When college got busy and adjusting to life in big cities got a bit much, he and Nancy hadn’t had the chance to talk. Last time they spoke, Nancy expressed her frustrations with the school’s newspaper, how picky they were with their stories and how they always published the same people that wrote biased articles. She said that it was almost as worse than working at Hawkins Post, which was saying something.

NYU was a culture shock for Jonathan for sure. A lot of rich kids from the city that made Junior year Steve Harrington look like an innocent country bumpkin. There was also a mixture of art snobs, both elitists and nonconformists. Often, they make the same points but for different reasons. He tried to not lose sight of why he loved photography. People can lie to your face, but a moment in time can reveal many things about them. Freelance work wasn’t so bad and he used it as an opportunity to explore the city and its stories.

It was at a hole-in-a-wall nightclub where a slam poetry group was performing when Jonathan heard about the Montauk project. He snapped a photo of the next performer on stage before sitting down, getting a glass of water from the bar. There was a couple sitting next to him, speaking in hushed tones as they leaned back on the bar, facing the small stage on the other side of the room.

Jonathan took a big gulp of water and turned in his seat, eyes scanning the crowd as the performer’s voice echoed through the old dusty speakers. Many were enraptured by the performer’s voice while those on the outskirts of the tables were either zoning out or whispering amongst themselves.

“No shit!” the man sitting next to Jonathan exclaimed.

His partner hushed him, smacking his arm. “I’m serious!” they hissed, leaning in closer, “My cousin said that even the magnets stopped working. Like, how is that possible?”

The man shrugged. “Could be a coincidence. Could be something. I mean, the whole town of Montauk? There’s not even anything significant about that place.”

“Anything could be significant if something special happens to it. Who would have even given a shit about Roswell until those UFO sightings, huh? Your birthdate wouldn’t hold any significance to me if I didn’t know it was your birthday.”

“Thanks a lot, babe.”

“But, you get my point, right? This time, I know someone who saw it. The blackouts, the broken magnets, even the hallucinations.”

“Hallucinations?”

“Yeah, she said that she was walking along the beach when she thought she saw something hovering over the old air force base. Something big. It was floating in the air, then it dropped so fast that it exploded and the ground shook. Lights were flashing and everything. When she blinked, it was as if the air force was untouched, completely abandoned, and the sky was darker.”

“That’s freaky stuff.”

“Tell me about it.”

-

“Are you coming over for Christmas?” Will asked hopefully.

Jonathan glanced at his calendar marked with deadlines and events. Christmas was closing in fast, faster than he thought possible now that he was in a big city. Decorations were being put up since the end of October and Christmas parties were being organized. It was a good time to pick up work and as tempting as it was, he was really missing home. His family was everything to him and this was the longest he had gone away from them.

“And miss mom’s burnt gingerbread cookies? Not a chance,” Jonathan said, smiling at the memory of when their mom got distracted by something and forgot to check the oven.

The brothers fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of rustling papers could be heard from Will’s side. He had been working on a new art project when Jonathan had called. It took Will some time to readjust to life back in Hawkins, especially when Jonathan left, but with El and their friends at his side, it almost felt like he never left. 

DnD had been temporarily moved to Steve’s new apartment after the school had put a halt to the Hellfire Club for the time being. Eddie was bummed out about it. He worked so hard to get it made and opened its doors to all those who were lost and sought for escapism where one could shape their own narrative in a fantasy game. El was learning how to skateboard from Max when she wasn’t being a Hawkins High undercover superhero, making bullies trip on nothing or their shorts falling down in the middle of the hallway. 

“How’s it been? The city sounds crazy from how you described it,” Will said.

Jonathan huffed out a laugh, nodding. “Yeah. It feels like… everything and nothing is happening, you know? Everyone’s got their own thing going on, always on the move. When you’ve got nothing going on… it’s just nothing.”

“Are you saying that you’re bored of living in New York City?” he asked incredulously.

“No. No, it’s not that. It’s just… I don’t know.” Jonathan sat down with his chest leaning against the back of the chair. “I feel like back in Hawkins, if I don’t figure out what I wanna do with my life, then I’m stuck there. In New York, if I don’t figure it out, then I’ll be swept away.”

“So, same thing, different pace,” Will surmised. 

Now that they were older, the brothers found that their talks seemed almost at an equal footing. It was always Jonathan comforting and protecting Will, but now, he’s been seeing more and more of that wiseness that Will’s friends were always talking about. Not that he didn’t know about it before, but Will was his baby brother. He was supposed to be the one to give him advice and take care of him. Finding a friend in Argyle who, while near constantly in a stoned state, had advised that he try to lessen the burden he had placed on himself and let people help take care of him.

“Yeah. I’m just looking for something to do. Things have been getting monotonous, relatively speaking. I guess with everything we’ve been through, all these things that people find so… significant seem so trivial now.” 

“Maybe you need to find something worth putting value in to make it significant. Things almost feel like nothing matters, right?”

Jonathan sorted through the newspaper clippings he had and stacked them neatly in chronological order. He thought back to the couple at the slam poetry night, about how something wasn’t significant until something special happened to it. 

Hawkins was a place that no one even knew about until he and Nancy released the story that got Hawkins Lab shut down and the news that covered the mess at Starcourt Mall. A cursed town in Indiana. But, it was also Jonathan’s home, where everyone that mattered to him was. Well, almost everyone. 

He looked down at his palm where the scar, shining slightly under the desk lamp light, served as a reminder of the night where he and Nancy lured out the demogorgon, knowing that they could potentially die. He sometimes wondered if she ever looked at her matching scar or covered it up to forget about it.

Will knew the gears were turning in his head, going by his brother’s silence. “They’re opening up a new mall here,” he said, “Several of the local businesses are planning to relocate there. There’s even going to be a skating rink and a music stage. El’s excited about that. She managed a kickflip the other day!”

“That’s so cool. Tell her I wanna see it when I get there. No evil Russian labs under the mall this time, right?”

“Not that we know of. I’m sure that once me and El sense something, mom and Hop will catch on quickly.”

“Mom should be a detective by now. Those two make quite a duo, don’t they?” Jonathan laughed before trailing off. “How are things with them? Mom’s happy, right? No bad fights?”

“Yeah, yeah, no, she’s really happy. I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time,” Will said. “Hopper… He treats her right and… he’s cool, I guess. Hey, did you know that Steve’s debating whether he should join the police force?”

“What? No way. A police officer with a former drug dealer and murder suspect for a partner?” Jonathan tried to picture Steve in that blue uniform looking exasperated at a handcuffed Eddie wearing a wide cheeky grin and snorted. He thinks that they might actually play it up and did not want to think about it any further.

“Stranger things have happened in Hawkins.”

“Oh, don’t remind me.”

“I am the reminder.”

-

There was no point in getting a car in New York. If he can’t walk to his destination, he’ll take the subway or the bus. If he was desperate, he’d take the cab. Getting to Montauk was going to take almost three hours of sitting in one spot, then getting a cab to one of the cheaper motels. He didn’t know why he decided to go. Maybe it was the familiarity, painful curiosity. He didn’t know what to expect either. Certainly not Nancy Wheeler at the train station.

“Nance?”

She turned, her brown curly hair swishing off her shoulders. There was a thick knitted scarf wrapped around her neck and a long trench coat tied tightly by the waist. Her large luggage was by her feet, her backpack slung over one shoulder as she bounced in her high ankle boots. Her round eyes widened when she saw him and a smile automatically spread across her face. 

“Jonathan!”

The wind was knocked out of him and he wasn’t sure whether it was from the sight of her or when she slammed her body into his. His arms felt familiar around her small frame, his face aching from the sudden stretch of his lips as he felt her practically melting into him. He closed his eyes, breathing her in. Her light floral perfume, her fruity scented shampoo, and that hairspray she liked to use when her hair gets out of control.

“Nance, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be heading back home?” Jonathan asked, taking her luggage without question as he adjusted the strap of his backpack and small duffle bag.

“I was,” she said, still smiling, “But then I heard about something. Something big. I had to come and… and… I need to know what it is.”

There was that glint in her eye that he always loved. It was when she got excited, so passionate, and driven. Emerson’s school newspaper must be filled with idiots if they’re not jumping on the chance to use her stories.

“Is it the military base in Montauk?”

She nodded, grabbing his arm and leaned in to whisper, “You, too?”

He smiled. “Yeah. Wanted to take pictures that weren’t art scenes and street views for once. Think there’s an alien spacecraft? Some green people?”

Nancy rolled her eyes, walking with him towards the train. “Yeah, maybe like E.T.”

They hurried to a seat before the surge of people pushed them around and potentially separated them. They leaned back in their chairs with a sigh, taking a moment to relax and wait until everyone in the train settled for departure. Their hands were centimeters apart, but Jonathan didn’t dare to grab hers. They were on a break, a mutual decision to remain friends as they went off on their separate paths.

An hour into the ride, Nancy had dozed off, resting her head on Jonathan’s shoulder. Her left hand was slightly turned up, her matching scar on her palm peeking out. To anyone else, that scar could mean anything. Clumsiness, mostly, or accident prone. It would just be any old scar from their reckless teen years.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Nancy said softly, lifting her head slowly to look at him with a small smile.

He smiled back, bringing his left hand over next to hers. She grabbed his gently, running her smooth fingers over his scar, his own fingers giving a small twitch at the tickling sensation, before comparing them.

“Mine’s bigger,” she said, smirking.

He scoffed playfully. “Okay, it’s not a competition. I…” He trailed off as she entwined their fingers together and squeezed his hand.

“I really missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He squeezed her hand back.

She reluctantly pulled away to dig through her backpack for her journal. Of course, she already had notes about all the abnormal sightings written in neat handwriting with notes of what they knew about Hawkins Lab and about the signs of anything related to the Upside Down. No matter how many times they helped El close the portals, that wouldn’t stop people like the Russian military from trying to open it again. 

His frustration and anger of governments seeking to control something that they do not understand overrode his exhaustion from the constant fighting to keep his friends and family safe. If what’s happening in Montauk is what he and Nancy think it is, they need to stop it.

“Ready to hunt down another government conspiracy?”

“I’ll get the perfect shot if you write the perfect story.”

Nancy nodded firmly with determination in her eyes. “Just like old times.”

[jimintomystery]

The Search for Noah's Ark

Many ancient cultures had accounts of a hero surviving a divine flood by building a giant boat, but the story of Noah (Genesis 6-9) stands out, since it is included in the canon of the Abrahamic religions. For centuries, it was not unusual for Jewish, Christian, and Muslim writers to report that Noah's Ark was still sitting on the mountain where it came to rest at the end of the story. But it wasn't until the 20th century that a documented expedition went to look for it.

[Above: A man stands between Mount Ararat, where explorers typically look for Noah's Ark, and a sign for Noah's Ark National Park, the official location of the ship according to the Turkish government.]

The Bible says Noah's Ark landed in "the mountains of Ararat," without any clear indication where that would be. A 4th century Latin edition translated "Ararat" as "Armenia," popularizing that association in Western Christianity. The Armenians themselves used Greek or Syriac bibles, so they only learned of the Ararat-Armenia connection centuries later, from visiting crusaders. Thereafter, the sacred Armenian mountain Masis has been known as "Mount Ararat." Since the 1920s, the mountain has been a part of Turkey, which calls it Ağrı Dağı ("mountain of pain").

After the first confirmed ascent of Mount Ararat in 1829, it became more plausible that someone might go up there and look for Noah's Ark. But the idea wasn't taken seriously until the 1940s, when an article circulated about a Russian pilot spotting a giant wooden boat on Ararat during World War I. Supposedly, the czar ordered a thorough exploration of the structure, but then those no-good godless commies took over and suppressed the findings. The story was ultimately discredited, but not before it stoked the imaginations of American Christians that were eager to prove that the Bible was literally true.

Fascinated by the Russia story, realtor Eryl Cummings and his wife Violet devoted the rest of their lives to tracking down stories about Ark sightings. These tales typically involved American soldiers who said someone showed them a photo of the Ark during World War II, or old Armenian immigrants who supposedly visited the Ark as children. "Ark fever" heated up, though, when a sighting was reported from Turkey. In 1948, Eryl was invited to lead an Ararat expedition planned by retired missionary Aaron J. Smith. Cummings declined, however, and Smith ultimately led the trip himself the following year.

The 1949 expedition is instructive, because it sets the tone for all subsequent attempts to visit Ararat in search of the Ark. Upon arrival, Smith was beset with bureaucratic delays. Permits needed to be paid for, and local authorities rejected clearances that had been granted at the federal level. Reading between the lines, its clear to me that Ark-seekers would pay anything to achieve their dreams, and corrupt Turkish officials took full advantage of that. The team quickly depleted their funds, and didn't get to the mountain until the end of the climbing season.

It's also telling that there hasn't been a lot written about Smith's mission, not even by the Ark hunters who followed in his footsteps. It's much easier to find stories about the Fernand Navarra controversy in the '50s and '60s, or people who couldn't even prove they'd been to the mountain. And it's Eryl Cummings, not Aaron J. Smith, who came to be seen as the father of the movement. There's a simple reason for that: Smith put in the work, but he didn't find anything. Cummings, on the other hand, accumulated all of the tantalizing stories of people who might have found something, which could become a useful lead for the next expedition.

[Above: Reconciling descriptions from two purported eyewitnesses, Elfred Lee illustrates the collapse of Noah's Ark into Ahora Gorge. The gorge was formed in 1840 by a powerful earthquake, which happens to precede the earliest alleged sightings in modern times. Violet Cummings suggested that the quake was divinely ordained to reveal the Ark and usher in the Apocalypse.]

The 1970s saw a wave of books about the search, most of which derived their information from the work of Mr. and Mrs. Cummings. Violet and other writers cast the quest in an apocalyptic light, suggesting that God had hidden the Ark all this time only to reveal it as a sign that the End Times were imminent. The implication was that Noah's Ark could not be discovered until the appointed hour but, paradoxically, Judgement Day will be stalled unless believers find the ship as soon as possible.

"Arkeology" arguably peaked in the 1980s, when astronaut Jim Irwin took up the search. By that point Turkey was wary of letting amateur climbers wander around so close to their border with Iran and the Soviet Union. But the eighth person to walk on the Moon was able to open some doors and, more crucially, cut through some red tape. However, Irwin still had to deal with the punishing conditions of Mount Ararat itself. His adventures there are best remembered for the injuries he sustained, and the heart issues that made it increasingly unwise for him to return year after year.

Jim Irwin no doubt inspired a new generation of Ark-seekers, but by the late 1990s the community was bitterly divided about where to look. For thousands of years, legends suggested that the ship was in plain sight for anyone who dared to climb up and find it. But fifty years of aerial reconnaissance, satellite photography, and boots on the ground had proven otherwise. Debate intensified about whether Ararat was even the right mountain, and about the validity of other possible sites, forcing people to re-evaluate the established lore surrounding the quest. So you end up with one "arkeologist" attacking the reasoning of another, often with logic that could be extended to dismiss the entire search.

[Above: In 2010 Noah's Ark Ministries International released photos like this one, purportedly taken inside a massive wooden structure on Mount Ararat. NAMI refused to reveal the location for independent verification, citing security concerns. Within days of the announcement, former associates of NAMI came forward accusing them of staging the whole thing.]

That background of in-fighting put a damper on a 2010 press event claiming that a Hong Kong evangelical group had found the Ark on Ararat. You'd think video footage of this discovery would delight Ark hunters. On the contrary, many were as skeptical as mainstream scientists. The feuding over which Ark theories were right or wrong had left them wary, because if some flaky story captured the public imagination, it might discredit the entire movement. Which is ironic, considering that the movement wouldn't exist at all if not for an urban legend about a Russian cover-up.

At a glance, it may seem like "Ark fever" is part and parcel with religious fundamentalism, or maybe just a specific flavor of Christian anti-intellectualism. However, even some influential creationists have debunked the search for Noah's Ark. There's no scriptural basis for assuming that God arranged for the Ark to remain intact until modern times, or that it was meant to be rediscovered, or that locating it would have any bearing on the end of the world. The entire rationale for the search is that dozens of unconfirmed reports can't all be wrong, which isn't a solid foundation for an archaeology project.