#also i barfed a little lol

[thebestofthebestofthebestof]

Probably shoulda skipped the wine lol

[sentientsky]

a tiny little ficlet based on this lovely comment from @queer4cryptids on this post! (i accidentally made it angsty, i’m so sorry!! but there’s comfort and gay yearning in there, i swear!) when the night falls low and settles against the side of the Earth; when the the dark begins to carry a certain weight, he shifts his stance. he lets himself breathe air he doesn't really need into lungs that exist simply by virtue of his inclination to breath. it's the same pattern Crowley's watched unfold a hundred million times times over—the stretching of a thread until it frays, three women, a set of blades; a wicked inevitability carried in the lines of time-weathered hands.

and still it never changes, never lessens the welling of grief that builds and breaks in his chest, that stagnates and stratifies like layers of sand upon gravel upon so many eons since he first fell from the sky and lost the right to mourn a woman hungry only for bread and a little kindness.

he leans back against a headstone, swallowing down a familiar hollowness. the sparrows have all taken root in the knots of tree trunks. the moon blinks back at him, clouds swaying like an eyelid closing to sleep.

he turns his face away from the light, sucks in breath for which he still has no need. the rough-hewn granite is going to scuff his coat; he knows this with the certainty of having lived in a world full of serrated edges for so many years. and yet he doesn't care. Crowley can't find it in him to give a damn because finally, finally he's there. he's there and he's real and tangible and it's been eleven months, two weeks, and four days since he's last felt the warmth of angelic skin so close to his own. not that he's been keeping count, of course. and Aziraphale's got that faraway look again. the one pressed into the lines of his face in the aftermath of a flood that tilted against the sky; the same one Crowley saw in the stark daylight of a death warrant unfurled and stamped with the name of the holy Mother herself. it's the same, hollow, teeth-gritted look Crowley himself wore as he stood on a hillside reeking of freshly-cut wood, bearing witness to yet another child of the Almighty thrown to the wolves. Aziraphale turns, then, and blue eyes meet black lenses meet amber-gold. "Crowley—" Aziraphale manages, choking it out in a half-whisper, like it hurts—like it scrapes his throat with bits of barbed wire. and, just like that, something in him is breaking and the oak trees are all whispering dangerous things and still, still he can't find a version of this story in which he doesn't lean closer, doesn't press himself forward into air that smells of earl grey tea and old books and something celestial and hallowed and holy underneath it all. and as though he's drowning—as though the moon doesn't watch them with a flickering gaze and the trees can't hear the brush of skin meeting skin—Aziraphale presses his fingertips to the side of Crowley's wrist. he moves no further. the air holds still, time seeming to freeze around them. it's intentional, he realizes; it's fire and it's heat and it's utterly fucking terrifying. even now, so far above ground, Crowley can nearly feel the weight of hellish eyes on his back. a shudder runs the length of his body. and yet. in the atomic space of that hungry, desperate, throat-baring yet, he turns his hand, trembling, to the side. he finds the angel's touch like a bird bearing North—like a compass forever calibrated to a single, fixed point.

"I know—" he rasps. “Angel, I know.” he twines his fingers with Aziraphale's, and it's positively electric. every cell in his tragically, wonderfully human body has turned pure gold, conducted and galvanized and sparking. a sharp, stilted inhale; a quiet anticipation carved out in the space between their pressed hands (and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss...). the graveyard is still. the grief is there, still. the grief might always be there. but the sharp edges dull, the welling in his chest grows steady and slow and gentle. and the world becomes a little less difficult to bear with the two of them holding it up.

[cerealmonster15]

ok lore updated for this bitch

like half of it is just relationship drama which is EMBARRASSING but i mean. what else am i here for really. the other stuff is way harder to explain but god i tried!!!!

[beauzos]

My Mother plushie collection grows larger>:3c

[shastafirecracker]

the core, fundamental flaw in trigun stampede is that this vash would not do deadly dodgeball head

[reshinless]

☆ ❝ 𝐢-𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫. ❞ ⋆ hsr x reader

synopsis. taking your v-card woahh!!!1!!!

warnings. virgin!reader, mirror fucking (or wtv its called, blade's prt), making out (jing yuan's part), nsfw and sex in general idk what else to warn u abt

author's note. bad writing alert barf ew!, also to the people calling me lyn or sea in my inbox i think you guys are funny /pos lol

pairings. blade, jing yuan, luocha, gepard.

blade likes the idea of him being your first. especially about how innocent you are, it turns him on!! corruption kink go crazy, and definitely when he sees you so dumb on his cock. type of guy to tell you that your hole is made for him, because it is! the way you take him so well.. and especially when it's the first cock you'd ever bounce on?! waa please it makes him so horny, makes him just want even more of you!! his long-lasting stamina doesn't help you out at all from endless rounds of your poor overstimulated hole. the pretty little claw marks on his back from fucking you makes him proud when he looks up to see them in the mirror, he's the first person to ever make you do that, why wouldn't he be proud?

jing yuan falls in love all over again when he hears you are a virgin. so incredibly happy and smug to be your first. it's up to you if you want it to be vanilla or rough, just forever proud to be someone as precious as you's first. start out probably with a makeout session! probably real messy with it, and slowly his kisses trace down somewhere else.. gives head so well :33, does it messily on purpose and he gladly show off his cum covered tongue and swallow your load infront of you!! the loudest sounds ever too.. especially when he got you bent over his desk just all wet and ready to take in his cock, and letting his cock, be the first inside you!!

luocha.. hmm.. will make your first the best, will treat you right with his huge cock, probably mostly vanilla, depends when you mentioned to him that you're a virgin, i guess? just takes it slow with you, it's your first time so, he wants to make it at least somewhat romantic, and something you can remember and label it pleasuring. makes sure your pleasure come first. out of everything it's you who matters the most to him, but.. if you really want your first time to be something that you really couldn't walk over, sure. he'll be rough as hell, just if you ask, but when he's really into the moment, you won't be able to slow him down, and will go as rough as he wants to. remembers to sort of apologize after that though.. help

gepard probably is also a virgin, but it isn't uncommon for him to go lowkey rough. still remembers you are his biggest priority, in terms of pleasure, and in general. just wants you to feel good, let his cock be the first to make you feel like that. probably the kind of guy that jerked off to this kind of moment. just you using his cock for your own pleasure, but he knows you wouldn't really be the type of person to do that. probably that kind of guy to put you into a mating press and just vent out his frustration from work all into thrusting his mean cock into your overstimulated hole!

i'll probably make a part 2 of this soon !!

[p1hypen]

TERRIBLE TWOS — P. SUNGHOON

SYNOPSIS! A rash decision on your end causes you and Sunghoon to break up. What you think is for the best turns out to be the complete opposite, actually. Cue two years later when a random encounter with your ex forces you to revisit past feelings that has never quite fully departed from either of you. PAIRING! Chairman!Sunghoon x Fem!Reader WC! 11.4k (Got carried away)

GENRE/CW! Exes getting back together, fluff, slight angst if you squint, smut (fingering, brief mentions of fem oral receiving, sunghoon has a 7 inch cock; i headcanon that, unprotected sex, missionary, creampie, lots of tongue kissing), swearing, reader is in denial just a tad bit, ft. non-idol!yunjin, reader is a struggling fine arts major, etc. MDNI

A/N: originally, i intended for this to be a simple one shot but it somehow turned out to be greater than that in the end lol. this was also my first attempt at writing smut; i've always wanted to try it but damn is it kinda hard. i feel like the title doesn't match or capture the story as good but whatever-- it used to be called 'seasons,' yet that didn't make sense either so... terrible twos it is! i hope you enjoy <3

“Y/n?” 

A trace of uncertainty laces the man's voice, his mind racing with the possibility that he might have mistaken a stranger for someone from his past. Internally, he winces at the prospect of this awkward mix-up, dreading such an encounter with a random person. He clings to the hope that his intuition proves accurate.

Could it really be her? Amid the bustling crowd, she always managed to stand out, an unmistakable aura surrounding her. Her presence eclipsed even the most vibrant of settings, radiating a unique energy that outshone a field of flowers.

When he tentatively calls out her name in a hushed tone, she spins around on her heel, and for an ephemeral moment, Sunghoon feels as though he's stepped into a scene from a classic romance film.

Time stills and so does he. 

Each of your movements steals his breath away. The way your hair dances in harmony with the wind, and how your eyelashes cast the most delicate shadow upon your high cheekbones. Your gradual unveiling leaves him struggling to swallow past an inexplicable lump in his throat. 

Sunghoon notices the moment your eyes widen. Behind those enchanting orbs, he discerns a flicker of nostalgia and a touch of melancholy. During your time together, he had the uncanny ability to read those emotions hidden within the depths of your eyes.

“Sunghoon…” You say no louder than a mere whisper that could easily get lost in the summer’s wind that passes through the both of you. 

Your heart throbs in your chest. The biological response is far too overwhelming that you can feel your stomach tying itself in double knots. You think you might need to be pointed to the nearest bathroom so you can barf up the swarm of butterflies that disturb your system. No doubt, does crossing paths with an ex whom you share a long history with manage to do that to you. 

“H-how are you?” You’re the first to strike up a conversation despite that being Sunghoon’s unspoken responsibility. 

How am I? Sunghoon has to brace himself to collect his messy thoughts. 

“I’m pretty good, and yourself?”

His response is curt and short. In any other setting, he would have elaborated on his answer but he wasn’t sure how much information was too much to reveal to an ex regarding the state of his well-being. You nod at his words, not really expecting much nor having high hopes that he would give you more to work with in this conversation of playing catch-up between an ex. 

See, your relationship ended amicably, with both of you acknowledging that the spark kindled between you two had faded out. With your mind elsewhere, too focused on your academics (so you like to say), and Sunghoon preparing to inherit his family’s business, there was little room for romance in either of your daily routines. Your typical weekend dates were swapped out for meetings with major corporations and other soon-to-be-chairman-related activities so that he could fully understand what the rest of his future held for him. 

Even though you missed having your boyfriend's undivided attention, you refused to act as a temporary roadblock that prevented him from making significant progress. Despite your heart and brain being at war with each other, you made the conscious decision to slowly back down from being his lover and tucked your face in the pages of your academic textbooks.

With Sunghoon too busy to even acknowledge that his girlfriend was distancing herself from him, you were the first to come forward, bearing the news that breaking up would be the optimal solution to your and his fading presence in one another’s lives. 

That night when you bid goodbye, he felt half his heart shatter inside of him. Little did you know that you carried the other part wherever you went, but now that you were no longer capable of sheltering that missing piece, it almost made him want to die inside more than just a tad bit— a lot, actually.

He pretended to play it cool as your back turned to him and he watched you retreat to your car, feeling both helpless and defeated. With an unflinching countenance, a tightly clenched jaw, and fingers gripped at his sides, Sunghoon longed for his feet to have chased after you, preventing your departure from his life. He yearned to undo whatever had driven you away, to rewrite his mistakes and reshape your shared history.

Sadly, not even the first star in the sky he saw at night could grant him something as demanding as that.

On the contrary, had those things happened, he wouldn’t be here today on a Thursday afternoon rekindling a connection that got tossed up in the air and fell through his fingertips.

“I—“ Before you get a chance to deliver your sentence Sunghoon’s hold on your arm prompts him to draw you to his chest. 

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, eyes simultaneously widening for the second time thanks to a certain ex. You look up at the taller one with crinkled brows. A mixture of confusion and a looming feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach that hasn’t quite left, tugging at your heartstrings. His intoxicating scent of Dior Sauvage is all too overwhelming for your nose to take in. You swear your head could start spinning any minute now. 

He’s so close to you. You’re so close to him. If someone were to come by and accidentally bump into you, you would be pressed up against his chest, breaking what limited distance is keeping you two apart. 

A bike rider disrupting pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk whizzes by, obnoxiously ringing the bell attached to their handlebar as if they aren’t to be blamed for riding on the concrete pavement, and it’s only then do you realize that Sunghoon was protecting you from getting hit. His body relaxes once he declares that it’s safe for you to comfortably stand in the open from any oncoming obstructions. 

“Sorry… acted on impulse.” His grasp on you immediately retreats to the inside of his pant pockets and you swear that his touch leaves a ghosting sensation on your skin. 

Sunghoon refuses to meet your lingering gaze, eyes averting to some random couple walking their dog across the street from where the two of you are standing. It’s almost funny how he fully believed two years ago that one day both of you would be exactly like that: dog owners who take their beloved fur baby on walks together and enjoy the simplicity of the little things that a relationship has to offer. 

“It’s okay, thank you,” You murmur, unsure of where things should go from here. 

A beat of silence comes and goes before Sunghoon has the chance to take the initiative to prove he’s different from his past self. 

The past self you witnessed throughout the duration of your shared romanticism. The past self who failed to convince you to stay because he never wanted you to leave his side. What he wanted was to work things out and to understand what he could do to change and make things better for the two of you.

Even if that meant you breaking up with him first to realize this.

“Listen, why don’t we…” He suddenly starts. Sunghoon analyzes your face and when your features evidently show that you’re all ears for what he has to say, he takes a deep breath to compose himself. “Get dinner. Together.“ 

Although the question comes out more like a demand rather than a request, you’re slightly taken aback because you were almost certain Sunghoon probably resents you for the breakup— at least that’s what you tell yourself— and that he doesn’t want any business involving you entering his life for a repeat performance. The only different thing is that you’re his ex.

Can you blame him? It was so sudden.

The concealed hurt he tried to mask but failed to do so when you told him you wanted to end things, hoping it’d be left on good terms, rambling about how much you do and will continue to care for him no matter what he does in life or who he chooses to love after you. It seems you did more talking than he got the chance to, and Sunghoon wasn’t sure if you had this all planned leading up to that moment, or if he should’ve seen it coming. 

Whatever it was, Sunghoon could never hate or repent you, but you’re no telepathic mind-reader and wouldn’t know how he feels about you now unless you asked. 

Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you ponder the idea of sitting in a fancy restaurant with Sunghoon and sharing a long conversation over an expensive meal that is highly overpriced for its ridiculously small portions. 

“On one condition,” You quip. Sunghoon gestures for you to keep going and you clear your throat. “No five-star Michelin places, okay? I just want a simple dinner to make up for lost time.” 

The older male chuckles, nodding his head sensibly. If there’s one thing Sunghoon learned about you is that you were never hard to please and preferred the opposite of a high-end luxury lifestyle that he naturally grew up with. 

“Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 8, how’s that sound?” 

“That’s perfect but um—“ you purse your lips. “Do you… Do you still remember where I live?” 

“Of course. It would take a lot more than time and distance apart from each other, for me to forget your every being.”

Sunghoon leans in to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The underlying intimacy hiding beneath his actions has you contemplating what the course of your relationship would have looked like for the two of you, had you not broken up with a man as sweet and thoughtful as him.

Was calling it quits between you two a mistake? Should you have stuck it out just a little longer? 

You can only shove those thoughts to the farthest point in the back of your mind and recenter your focus to the handsome ravenette. 

Sunghoon, sporting a warm grin that gradually grows into a pearly white showcase of his perfect teeth and adorable canines, makes it worth marveling if second chances are a thing that people still stand by. 

The next evening, Sunghoon unexpectedly arrived at your front door 20 minutes ahead of your readiness. While you were trying to situate yourself into your cami dress that paired well with the current season, a knocking sound coming from the entrance to your studio unit startled you in its wake. You tapped on the screen of your phone to check the time and crinkled your nose when the numbers staring back at you read 7:40. 

Sunghoon’s habit of arriving for an occasion earlier than expected was not unusual for his character. The taller's mannerisms crept into other facets of his social life after years of being trained to believe that "early is on time" and "on time is late." However, 20 minutes ahead of schedule was definitely new to you, and part of you can’t help but think if this is stemming from anxiety or if that’s just you projecting your nerves onto his much early arrival. 

“Just a sec!” You struggled to reach for the zipper to your dress, stress-sweating due to the pressure of having to rush through the rest of your routine.

After what felt like a millennia you finally managed to seal yourself shut into your attire and scurried to the front door where poor Sunghoon was waiting for you to answer.

“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t get to the zipper of my dress and I don’t think me flashing you or my neighbors in semi-public is socially acceptable.” You awkwardly laugh, strands of hair sticking to the back of your neck and forehead from the accumulated sweat you managed to produce. 

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head at your guilty tendency to overshare too much information for the dramatics.

“No worries. I know I showed up earlier than expected. Don’t worry about me, do what you need to do.” He smiles softly and for a second it almost slips your mind that you’re no longer romantically involved with each other. 

Oh, how you wish you could leap at him and smother the dashing man with kisses all over his Greek god-like, beautiful face…

“Here,” The taller unveils a bouquet of flowers that he attempted (underline, attempted) to hide behind his back. In reality, you could already see bits of it peeking out but chose to play coy about the item he was holding back from giving you. 

You fawn at the striking arrangement of tulips that come in different shades of the prettiest of pinks. Tulips. Of course, he would remember that those are your favorite. His words from yesterday ring in your ears, and believing them, you truly start to confide that Sunghoon could never boot you out of his memory as easy as a snap of his fingers.

“The prettiest bunch of flowers for the prettiest girl.” Sunghoon cautiously says, unsure if that would be stepping a line. To be fair, there isn’t an official handbook on what you should or shouldn’t say to an ex— except for some of the more common phrases; whatever that may be.

You let out a lighthearted laugh at the bold, yet cheesy, compliment and invited Sunghoon into the safe haven of your apartment, ignoring the way your heart practically skipped a beat when he said that. 

He’s been here on plentiful occasions so he’s really no stranger to the arrangement of your flat and could probably draw out an entire floor plan if he wanted to. At one point he almost committed to the thought of moving in with you, but you were a firm believer that it would be best if he stuck to the minimalist mansion he decorated himself; it was passed down to him from none other than his father. Needless to say, Sunghoon was a pouty puppy that day.

“I’m almost ready I promise.” You say. “I just need to add some finishing touches and then I’m all yours for the night.” Immediately your hands fly to your mouth when realization dawns on you about the delivery of your words. 

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, and luckily, you miss the faint smirk that tugs at the corner of his plump lips teasingly.

“You know what I mean!” You panic, waving off the metaphorical atmosphere that surrounds both of you.

You excuse yourself and escape to your room as the tips of your ears start to flush with embarrassment.

Once the door leading to your bedroom shuts behind you with a mellow thud, your back presses up against the surface of the entryway. A loud sigh that you weren't even aware you were repressing since Sunghoon arrived breaks out past your tinted lips. With your mind a foggy mess and your heart threatening to leap right out of your chest, you’re under the impression that you resemble the stereotypical anime school girl the way your entire demeanor changes when you’re around him. 

But that’s the thing.

It’s only Sunghoon. 

It’s just Sunghoon.

So what if you guys dated in high school and partially during college? So what if he was the first and only guy you’ve been with, and even though you have no one to compare him to, he would still be the best ex you could ever have? So what if you regret breaking up with him because you got ahead of yourself and refused to be transparent with him? 

So what if you want him back…

You pat both sides of your cheeks to wake yourself from a philosophical dilemma. you refuse to go down a rabbit hole of emotions especially when you’re about to go out to dinner. 

You shuffle through your wardrobe in search of a certain pair of Converse that a special someone gave to you as a birthday gift. When you find it neatly stored away in its original packaging and the box that it came in you’re almost too eager to slip your feet into the collar of the Chuck Taylor’s.

You halt in your steps when you reach your vanity and grab your everyday bottle of perfume, spritzing one pump, then two, then three, and four more of the floral scent, that you’re showering yourself in it at this point.

When you've deemed that you’re completely ready and satisfied with your appearance for the evening, you exit the inviting comfort of your cozy chambers. Sunghoon’s back is facing you as you ascend into the living room. You can’t make out much of what he’s doing and he’s seemingly too preoccupied to notice your footsteps stalk across the wooden paneling. His neck is craned downward looking at something on the decorative table where you have a neat arrangement of framed pictures. 

“You still have this?” He turns around revealing the photograph that he was referring to, now in his possession. There’s a distant glimmer of emotion that you can’t quite make out peeking around the curves of his irises. 

You let out a resigned sigh. 

You’ve been caught red-handed for leaving a single trace of the past out in the open. 

Of all the furniture and miscellaneous objects that collect dust on different surfaces in your flat, Sunghoon chose to go for the photograph of you and him standing under a cherry blossom tree in Ilsan Park. Your arm was hooked around his waist and his was wrapped around your shoulder. The brightest of smiles stretched across your faces as petals danced around you. It was the perfect moment captured in stillness and you wish you could leap through pictures to relive that special day. A distant memory that feels like it happened not too long ago.

“I couldn’t get rid of it. It’s— That’s one of my favorite pictures of us.” You simply explain. 

It was true, because out of all of the selfies, candid photos, and other pictures you shared together with Sunghoon, your date to Ilsan Park remained your number one core memory as a couple. 

You watch intently as Sunghoon places the photo back where it originally belonged on the console.

“I think that’s one of my favorites, too.” He says as a matter of fact. “That or the one where we went to Lotte World and wore matching uniforms together.” The taller laughs.

You giggled, the recollection of your amusement park date flashing across your mind. You dragged him to go on each and every attraction with you as he stumbled in your tracks, struggling to keep up with your social battery. You felt like two high schoolers in love at the ripe age of 20 because being with Sunghoon gave you the impression that you were your 15-year-old self again. 

“I like that one as well! I thought I looked pretty cute in that uniform.” You grin sheepishly.

Sunghoon chuckles and it causes you to whip your head to survey him. His eyes crinkle before they’re no longer crescent and back to their original doe-eyed shape. 

“You’re still cute, y’know that?” 

The comment sends your heart ablaze along with the blood that rushes to the surface of your cheeks. You can only hope that the thin layer of makeup and blush you applied is strong enough to camouflage the effect that sunghoon has on you. It’s no secret that he was always a smooth talker and still is. It makes you wonder if he’s ever used that flirtatious skill on other women he’s come across after you— or if he has. 

You tut your tongue at him and reach for your crossbody purse draped on the couch that you lazily tossed aside yesterday after coming home. 

“Ready, m’lady?” Sunghoon twists the knob and pushes the front door open, supporting the weight with his broad frame to keep it from closing in on you two when you exit. 

“Wait!” You pip, halting in your steps. You briskly retreat to your room and grab the bouquet of tulips you left on the side table next to your bed. 

You scurry over to Sunghoon, cradling the arrangement of florals like it was your baby. The haired boy opens his mouth to say something but you’re too fast to retort, 

“I wanna show it off. They’re too pretty to be left at home.” 

He nods and motions his hand for you to leave the unit first. The taller gives himself a mental pat on the back for inquiring in a floral shop before coming to retrieve you for dinner.

Tulips are a girl’s best friend, after all. For you, at least.

Coincidentally dinner happens to occur at the one restaurant you frequently visited when you and Sunghoon were dating. It was a simple ma and pa spot only locals in the area knew of. They were popularly known for their cold noodles and ginseng chicken soup. You like to think of it as a secret only two of you know about and continue to gatekeep it from your friends or families from ever coming across of it. 

The owners grew familiar with both of you through your frequent visits and friendly conversations. your rapport with them resulted in a warm welcome every time you returned, often accompanied by a generous discount as a token of their appreciation. Since your last visit to their restaurant, a while has gone by, and you both have been overdue to make an appearance at the restaurant.

“Aigoo, Sunghoon-ah, it’s been so long!” Mrs. Kim exclaims, wearing the biggest and brightest smile that brings out the crinkles in her complexion when she notices two familiar faces. “And Y/n, it’s good to see you too!” She turns to you with the same mien still permanently plastered on her face. 

You bow your head. Her contagious smile has you mirroring her grin. 

“Come, come, sit.” She waves her hand for the two of you to follow in her trail as she leads both of you to your— undesignated but designated— table that you and Sunghoon would constantly sit at.

Before you even have a chance to pull out your chair, Sunghoon beats you to it with surprising swiftness. The aged wood scrapes gently against the floor as he courteously pulls the chair back for you. A warm smile tugs at your lips as you appreciate this chivalrous gesture, unable to contain a soft giggle of delight. 

Mrs. Kim watches the interaction between the two of you and smirks, completely out of the loop that you have broken up; still under the assumption that you’re both dating to this day. Who could blame her when in her eyes you were the perfect missing piece for one another in this world like you were made for each other from the start. 

“The usual?” She asks despite already knowing the answer to her question. 

“Yes please,” Sunghoon nods.

He sits after folding his blazer in half so that it can rest neatly on the chair's backrest. To add some fuel to the flame, he unbuttons the cuffs to his long sleeves and rolls them past his forearms so that they stop an inch below his elbows. The expensive watch that rests snugly on his wrist glistens, almost blinding you. You’re reminded that the man sitting across from you is responsible for an entire company under his name and capable of powerful things.

You gulp. You feel like you’re watching something you shouldn’t be and instead take an interest in the condiments that are pushed to the side of your table. 

Soy sauce, vinegar, napkins… 

When you think that you’re ready to re-center your attention onto Sunghoon once your racing heart has calmed down from its high, the taller has his eyes closed as he combs his fingers through his hair. His lips are parted ever so slightly and there’s a shine to his plush tiers.

He has to be doing this on purpose now.

You watch the way his Adam apple bobs when he swallows and you swear it should be a sin to look this effortlessly good in warm overhead lighting. 

You huff, a little too audibly for the male across from you to hear and his doe eyes flutter open. The sudden eye contact catches you off guard and you’re struggling to maintain yourself from the tension your mind is projecting. You shift around in your chair trying to find a more comfortable position.

This is going to be a long dinner.

After Mrs. Kim returned with your delectable dishes, the food vanished quickly as you guys delved into stories and shared the exciting highlights of your respective journeys. You and Sunghoon spent the rest of your meal at the table reminiscing about the past two years including the many ups and downs you’ve dealt with.

You learned that a month after your breakup, Sunghoon’s father officially stepped down, handing over the reins of the company to his son as the new successor. The ravenette confided in you, revealing that even though he had been groomed for this role his whole life, the transition wasn't as smooth as he had envisioned. The weight of responsibility felt overwhelming. Taking charge of a major company brought with it a level of pressure he had never experienced before. The expectations were high, both from the company's board and the employees who had known him since he was young.

As he grappled with the complexities of his new position, Sunghoon couldn't help but reminisce about a simpler life. He missed the carefree moments he used to share with you, the laughter, and the ease of his unannounced visits when he would turn up at your door with snacks he bought from the corner store and canned beer. 

Eventually his determination and drive to persevere kept him standing strong in the face of these obstacles. With his family behind him, a supportive workforce, and you in the back of his mind, he knew he had people to look back on and make them proud. 

You praised the older for his character development, gushing at his transition from uncertainty to confidence, while sympathizing with the initial troubles he first started off with. Being a chairman at his age is bound to weigh heavily on his mental and emotional health, and you can’t help but wish that you had stayed by his side through it all in order to be that support pillar he needed at immediacy.

“So, what about you? I didn’t really get to hear your answer yesterday.” Sunghoon asks.

You blinked. “Me? Well, uhm…” 

A bubble of insecurity creeps into your stomach. Your mind races through a mental checklist of your own achievements, or rather, the lack thereof, especially when compared to Sunghoon’s impressive journey. While your lives have taken very drastically different paths, you can’t shake the feeling that at the end of the day, the two of you are worlds apart from each other. He’s the chairman of a highly respected company. And you? You’re just a college graduate with a bachelor’s degree in fine arts. A pursuit that feels miles away from Sunghoon’s milestones. 

During the period that he was absent from your everyday life, all you managed to build was your art portfolio, which you eagerly sent to numerous galleries in a desperate bid to gain recognition as a struggling artist. Rejection letters became an all too familiar sight, each offering the same hollow praise— impressed but not interested. Those were dark times, where self-doubt loomed large.

Thankfully, your situation started to improve when you summoned the courage to step out of your comfort zone. You took to social media, opening art accounts on Instagram and Twitter, and sharing your artistic odyssey on TikTok. Yunjin, one of your closest friends and best friend since middle school, commissioned you to paint a mural inside a cafe she was working at. “I begged my boss for this to happen!” She said enthusiastically over the phone the night she asked you for the favor. Everything to you was a leap of faith, a glimmer of hope that prompted you to fully believe in the light at the end of every tunnel. 

In spite of your situation turning out for the better, it was impossible to ignore the inescapable sense of solitude and loneliness that clung to you like a shadow. It followed you everywhere you went. A mental reminder that, no matter how bright life was starting to seem, you still felt trapped and not completely content with yourself.

You convey these exact thoughts and feelings to Sunghoon in a messy ramble, hoping that this unintentional therapy session you’ve turned dinner into won’t scare him off. You can only hope that you’re not ruining the evening with a sob story of another art kid struggling to make a name for themselves in a society, where choosing art as a career path is at a greater disadvantage in comparison to your stronger counterparts. 

When you find yourself coming to the end of your rant, a wave of silence washes over the table, and you grab the nearest cup of water to gulp from. Ignoring the condensation that sweats around the glass and soils your palms. Your eyes look everywhere, purposefully avoiding Sunghoon and the tragic visage he’s probably giving you right about now.

“Y/n, look at me.” 

You raise your head, complying to his soft demand. 

“I’m proud of you,” he begins, and in that instant, a surge of emotion that has been suppressed for far too long wells up within you. “It takes a lot of courage and willpower to continue to follow a path you’re uncertain of.” The comment makes Sunghoon chuckle dryly, closely reminded of himself, shaking his head. “But look at you, you’re doing so great.”

The warmth in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes— they combine like a gentle storm, and suddenly, tears brim your eyes, begging to spill over. Your vision is splotchy and you refuse to blink, save for ruining your mascara. You weren’t planning on being an emotional wreck tonight, especially over dinner with your ex.

“I understand how hard it must have been dealing with those struggles alone, and I wish I was there by your side to help support you when it happened.” Sunghoon continues. He pauses to take in a breath before resuming, “But I’m here now… I’m not going anywhere, and if you’d let me— I want back into your life again, Y/n.”

A solitary tear breaks free, followed by another, and then another, until suddenly your eyes unleash a torrent of waterworks like a relentless downpour from a stormy sky. You hide your face in a handful of napkins you hastily grabbed, unaware that Sunghoon got up to move from his seat and slipped into the chair next to yours. His touch catches you off guard but you immediately relax as he guides you into his embrace, allowing you to hide yourself in his arms; your face tucked away in his chest. He caresses your hair, his slender fingers thread through your styled locks as he lulls you to comfort from your shaken state.

The two of you stay rooted in that position until you confidently and mentally reassure yourself that you are okay; you’re going to be okay. Your breathing has calmed down from its high and returned to a normal, healthy rate as your tears subsided and are non-existent.

No longer conscious of your makeup— a matter far from substantial to care for anymore— you wipe away the mess around your eyes. Black clumps of mascara and some concealer transfer onto the napkin. Seeing the stains garner a weak laugh to emit from you. Sunghoon cranes his neck to survey what you’ve become engrossed with. He sees the ruined makeup and laughs lightly into your hair. 

You’re thankful that there aren’t many customers dining in tonight and that it’s just you, Sunghoon, and three other parties who are far too busy drinking, conversing, and laughing amongst themselves to acknowledge the young couple tucked away in the corner.

Mrs. Kim leads both you and Sunghoon out of the restaurant with a warmth akin to a grandmother bidding her grandchildren farewell, her heartfelt wish for your safe return home evident in her loving smile.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Kim. Thank you, again, for another delicious dinner.” Sunghoon bows at a 90-degree angle and the formality stirs a boisterous laugh from the frail old lady. You mimic his actions, also expressing your gratitude for the lovely meal and free dessert she served to you guys ‘on the house.’ 

“When you guys come back I better see a wedding ring on her finger, Sunghoon-ah.” Mrs. Kim scolds lightly. You almost choke on your own saliva at the remark, coughing awkwardly to cover up your bewilderment. Sunghoon does his best to maintain his composure for the sake of the elder’s oblivion.

“You guys disappear for two years and still no diamond in sight. I was hoping some big change happened!” She clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth, crossing her arms.

Sunghoon dips his head again in an apologetic manner. “You and Mr. Kim will be the first people we come to with a wedding invitation.” 

You whack the taller’s arm giving him a what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about look, eyebrows scrunched with perplexity. The last thing you want is to continue to feed into Mrs. Kim’s false reality that the two of you are still a couple. Who’s to say that Sunghoon isn’t actually on the same page as you and everything is just a facade? I mean, sure, he’s been flirty here and there, bought you flowers, comforted you at dinner, and practically asked you to take him back… 

Your trust in Sunghoon has clearly waned, a result of your fluctuating self-confidence that leads you to confide in the pessimistic "what ifs." Your clouded judgment and self-doubt gnaw at your thoughts, casting doubt on the possibility of a reunion between the two of you. 

Sunghoon ignores the daggers slicing at the left side of his face and the buzzing pain you inflicted on him from the harsh impact of your hand. His digits dig gently into your side, drawing you closer to him. You stumble ever so slightly and flash an unconvincing awkward smile to the old lady.

You situate yourselves into the driver and passenger seats of his Hyundai Ioniq. You’re quiet when you pull the seat belt over your upper half, and for the first 10 minutes, not a single word was uttered from either you or the male sitting behind the wheel. Your mind loiters as you watch the building lights illuminating the dark troposphere of Seoul whizz by at 2x speed.

You and Mr. Kim will be the first people we come to with a wedding invitation.

Yeah right… You almost roll your eyes but catch yourself prolonging the idea of a hypothetical engagement and wedding ceremony with Sunghoon as your groom. 

Would he have gone down on one knee to propose to you had both of you remained lovers? 

You shake the contemplation loose from your prefrontal cortex. 

“Is it okay if I roll the window down?” You’re the first to break the ice. Sunghoon nods, his attention still focused on the road in front of him. Without looking, his fingers find the car’s air-con button to turn it off and he gives you the ‘go’ to proceed with your desire. 

The tempered glass descends and you’re immediately greeted with the beating rush of the summertime air. You giggle and rest your arms on the weatherstrip trimming of the Hyundai, your head poking out like an excited dog who’s riding in the car with its tongue hanging from its mouth. You close your eyes, taking in the wind that messes with your hair and brushes past your skin. It’s enough to transcend you into a different headspace, almost forgetting that you’re in a moving vehicle and not on some speedboat skidding across the water in Europe.

Sunghoon looks your way, unable to suppress the natural smile that lights up his face whenever he sees you. You truly are a surge of energy he needs when he wants to uplift himself if he’s feeling down. You’re his happy pill— so much so, that he wishes he could keep a chibi version of you for him to carry in the pocket square of his suits and let you rome on the wooden surface of his office desk to help him get through the work day. It’s silly and love-sickening, but Sunghoon only knows how to act a fool with you around him. 

His fingers drum against the padding of the steering wheel, waking you from your daydream. You hadn’t realized that you’ve already made it back to the city and are soon approaching your apartment complex. Your neighborhood is only a couple of turns away from your current destination as the two of you sit at a red light. You roll the window up, at least it was fun for the duration it endured. 

When he pulls up on the side of the street in front of your building, you try to find some lame excuse to stay with him for another minute longer, not wanting to say goodnight to him. You’re scared that this evening will be a one-off event and you'll return to your old ways, enveloped once more in the arms of self-isolation that consumes you completely.

Your grip on the door handle tightens. 

“Sunghoon,” you shift your view in his direction. “You don’t mind walking me to my front door, do you?” 

The male smiles with his eyes.

“Who am I to not accompany a lady when needed.” 

Sunghoon makes quick work to unbuckle himself from the driver’s seat and rounds the front of the car to open the door for you. He holds out his hand for you to take, which you generously do so, and grants him the unspoken permission to whisk you away into the levels of your residential building. 

The elevator ride is a close resemblance to the trip back to your place, however, there’s a contrasting atmosphere waiting to burst like a champagne bottle and spill over. Sunghoon’s holding your hand the entire way and you don’t resist the notion. 

When you approach your unit at the end of the hall, you fish for your keys that are sitting at the bottom of your bag. Sunghoon’s hand slips out of your grasp and you almost whine at the loss of his warmth and touch, but you know he’s only doing it for you to use both free hands to ultimately unlock your door. The click! of the lock coming from the other side is an indication that you can push past the door once the knob is turned.

You stand there, hesitant to enter your own home. 

“I guess— this is it?” You murmur tentatively to yourself and the taller. You rock on your heels purposefully stalling time as you force both him and yourself to stare a little longer at the iron numbers detailing your front door. 

You let out a rigged breath.

“Tonight was great. The longest I’ve been out of the house in a month, really.” You cringe pathetically at the confession knowing that a month ago Yunjin was the one who pulled you out of bed to get some fresh air and sunlight because you were hiding away like a vampire. "Thank you... Sunghoon, for treating me to dinner and spending the evening with me..."

He remains stoic and unusually quiet, making it challenging to decipher what he’s thinking or feeling. You wish you could enter his mind to get a glimpse of how his brain functions. You’d hate to seem pitiful for hoping that his advances from today were, if at all, genuine.

If what he said at dinner was coming from the heart.

As you contemplate what might be your last encounter with your 'the one who got away,’ Sunghoon astounds you with yet another trick up his sleeve, when he secures your wrist in his delicate grasp. Forever one step ahead of you, his lips collide with yours in a passionate fervent. The only appropriate reaction that you can give him in response is to return the kiss with just as much fervor. The strap to your purse slides off your shoulders and lands below you with a little thud thanks to Sunghoon’s antsy hands pushing it out of the way.

He cages you against the surface of the door, your back bumping into it when he forces the distance between your bodies to dissipate. Bothered by the tiny gap that prevents you from being as close as you possibly can to him. The only active barrier is now the layer of clothing he’s wearing and the tiny dress that nearly clings to your every curve. He can’t wait to impatiently rip you out of it and slip in a “I’ll buy you a new one, princess.”

Your hands find sanctuary in his soft hair. How you missed tugging at their roots when he’d go down on you in bed, on the kitchen counter, and in the shower with your one leg supporting your entire weight as Sunghoon made the other side dangle over his shoulder. Those positions are tempting, and biologically the flashbacks of your sexual activity with the male feed into the expansion of your slick that gradually soils your panties.  

You squeeze your thighs together. The pressure of your inner fat is an empty feeling of pleasure that you wish Sunghoon could replace with his tongue, fingers, cock, or all three one at a time. The male notices this cry-for-help and trails his right hand down the sides of your waist. He stops at the lace hemming of the cami dress, bunching the material to provide easy access to your mid-thigh. His fingers dance on your skin, traveling upward ever so slowly in an antagonizing fashion that almost infuriates you for his teasing manner in the heat of the moment. 

Sunghoon reluctantly breaks the kiss. The evidence of your already smudged matte lipstick has left a faint trace on his plump tiers. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, mouth ready to latch onto the sensitive area he knows best that will cloud every crevice of your mind with nothing but want and lust. At the end of this night, all that you will know is how to be his obedient cocksleeve like the good girl he’s conditioned you into.

The sound of someone clearing their throat on the opposite end of your apartment’s hallway is akin to a record player scratch. You’re grateful that the construction workers, or whoever built this place, designed the structure of your building to be a certain way so that the split-off point from the elevator wasn’t a simple corridor style where you could see both fire exits at each side. Instead, it was more so a wide V-shape. 

In other words, no one really caught you and Sunghoon in semi-public eating one another’s faces. 

You stop to share a quiet laugh with Sunghoon and ultimately enter the safe space of your flat, out of your neighbors point of view where they could have had a free, front-row seat to some juicy content. The door closes behind you, you can barely get out of your shoes and make it past the front step leading to your living room when Sunghoon’s haste to have you underneath the sheets with him in your bed has you stumbling backward. He catches you before you can register that you would have fallen onto your ass against the hardwood. His lips serve him well, contributing to the situation as a distraction that redirects your every inner thought bubble. 

Sunghoon casually kicks off his shoes, adding them to the haphazard pile alongside yours— the least of his concerns at the moment.

The kiss from outside repeats itself, and this time, Sunghoon can contently resume what he intended to do had another tenant not interrupted the mood. But the voyeurism exploration kink in him would have liked either sequence of events. 

His tongue traces a wet stripe up your neck, sending a shiver cascading down your spine. You dully bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the whimper that is sanctioned at the back of your throat, trapped by a surge of lust and anticipation. Sunghoon’s mouth ghosts over the shell of your ear, and his hot breath tickles. 

“I wanna hear you, baby.” He slurs. “Don’t be shy on me now.” 

Sunghoon’s lips sheathe that sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to gasp. Your shoulders tense at the foreign feeling of his mouth on your body, and you’ve forgotten how good it was to receive a hickey. You relax under his touch when he gives the soft fat of your waist a reassuring squeeze.

His canines graze your skin while he sucks on the same patch, switching interchangeably to lap his tongue at the area when he begins to see a blossom of red and purple hues mix together, creating the prettiest bruise that would surely take more than a couple of days to fully heal. You groan when his teeth apply the right amount of force onto your flesh, leaving indents in their wake. His perverted mind relishes in the fact that only he is capable of marking you in ways that no other man could ever come close to.

He steps back to fully appreciate his canvas, that is you, and the absolute masterpiece that you are to him.

He leans in, pressing another kiss to your lips, this time with a gentler, more tender spirit, devoid of any sloppy motions. It’s delicate, a striking contrast to the heated lip-locking session the two of you were entranced with just moments ago on the other side of your apartment door. His larger palms cup your face as the pads of his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks, making you feel loved and cared for.

Sunghoon lures your tongue into his mouth, clamping his lips around the muscle. He suckles at it, eliciting the cutest whimpers that he missed hearing from you since you’ve been gone. 

“Hnngh… Hah,” you pry yourself off of him, a string of your shared saliva connects the two of your equally moist lips. 

Your puffy lips shimmer in the moonlight streaming into your livingroom, as if the moon itself decided to play a starring role tonight. You squeeze his bicep, noticing that the muscle has doubled in size since you last touched it. You peer up at the taller through your eyelashes and Sunghoon has to conceal his primal instincts from fucking your throat with his raging hard-on. 

Your fingers graze the fabric of his long-sleeve collar, tracing delicate patterns across the black tie donned around his neck. Something about being able to witness a man up close in a suit never failed to provoke a flood of arousal from overwhelming your erogenous zone. Specifically, Sunghoon. It’s a shame— not really— that it eventually has to come off. With a deft touch, you begin to unravel the four-in-hand knot, a testament to Sunghoon’s meticulous self-preparation. The silk unravels, revealing its intricate texture beneath your fingertips. 

You assist Sunghoon in removing his suit jacket next, observing it gracefully descend to the floor. You briefly wonder why he's so nonchalant about leaving such an expensive garment on the ground, but he dismisses your concern with a wave of his hand. After all, as a chairman, he has the means and privilege to easily replace such clothing items.

You decide that it’s your turn to take the lead for once and initiate another heated session of sultry lip service. Your mouth kisses Sunghoon’s with primal hunger. Teeth clash, and you see no remorse for your hostility sponsored by pent-up sexual frustration and longing for some sort of relief that only Sunghoon can render. 

In a poor attempt to unbutton the last layer of clothing that shields Sunghoon’s upper half, your fingers fumble with the small disks that are fastened by the slits. You whine frustratedly against his lips once you realize you’re not making much progress. It is incredibly hard to multitask when your tongue is being manhandled by his.

“Here, lemme do it.“ Sunghoon mutters in a low growl. 

He tears open the placket just like he would to a bag of chips, and the buttons you were struggling to relieve him of pop off in ease, taunting you for your lack of efficiency at getting him out of his attire. He wriggles his arms free from the restraints of his sleeves and shrugs the apparel from the summit of his shoulders, allowing the ruined piece to join his suit jacket on the floor.

“Your turn, babe.” 

He twirls you around, your back fully pressed against his front as the tent in his pants pokes at your globes. The thrill of his length nestled between your ass spurs you to grind yourself on him, a staggered exhale of his hot breath fans the curvature of your trapezius, prickling your skin. The cotton material of your underwear cultivates a sticky sensation the longer you stay trapped in it.

“S-shit baby, you’re a fucking tease.” Sunghoon grabs your chin, forcing your head to turn his way so that he can seize your lips in an inconsistent kiss. Alternatively, it’s a tongue duel of him wanting to shove the muscular organ down your throat.

“A-ahh,” You moan helplessly.

He yanks the zipper of your dress. The item peels off of your bust, exposing your bare skin and naked torso simultaneously. You have to wriggle your hips past the remaining fabric in order to fully reveal your bare figure to Sunghoon— besides your damp panties that is.

“No bra today? It’s almost like you were expecting this to happen…” Sunghoon taunts.

“N-no…” You squeak, shaking your head.

“No? Use your words baby.”

You turn to face him, your perky mounds that come into his view are a sight for sore eyes. Even in the dark and scant amount of natural lighting from the celestial object in the night sky, is Sunghoon competent at reading your flustered features. How you manage to be cute yet look so lewd all at once is beyond his comprehension.

“I-I didn’t wear a bra because I thought it’d be easier to go without one.” You mumble, telling the truth.

“That’s better,” Sunghoon coos. He pecks your cheek and you smile at the reward.

“Eeek! S-Sunghoon!” You burst into a fit of shared laughter and giggles when said name scoops you into his arms, your body cradled against his chest, as your legs dangled over his one arm while the other supports your back.

“Just practicing when we’re both walking down the aisle at our future wedding.” Sunghoon jests.

Tenderness fills your eyes when you look up at him. He’s joked about the hypothetical conception of marriage twice in the night that you’re fully convinced it wouldn’t be all that bad of an idea. Given that both of you are ready and first rekindle the status of your relationship, of course.

Sunghoon grins. There’s a gentle kindness to his pearly whites, and you reach up to press a chaste kiss to his jawline.

He relocates to your bedroom. Gently, he lays you down on the bed, your body propped up on your forearms, bearing the weight of your upper half. With an unwavering gaze, you study Sunghoon closely, every detail of his expression and every nuance of his presence.

His eyebrows knit and meet in the middle, fixated on undoing his pants to escape from their restraints, followed by his underwear soon after. His stiff member rebounds off his lower abdomen, precum leaking from the mushroom tip. A satisfied exhale leaves his mouth. He stalks over to you with a sly smirk, towering your smaller frame when he crawls on top of the bed, his knees plant themselves into the mattress and his additional weight dips the space where you lay.

You whine when his length ghosts at the expanse of your inner thigh, suspense and arousal continue to bubble inside of you. Sunghoon murmurs for you to lay back. “Make yourself comfortable,” were his initial instructions before hooking the waistband of your panties with his fingers and dragging them below your legs. The undergarment was tossed to the side.

You nibble at your bottom lip and screw your eyes shut when a slender finger circles the perimeter of your labia.

“You’re so wet babe,” Sunghoon purrs.

Your breath hitches at the back of your throat when he slides his index finger through your inner lips, gathering an abundance of your slick to bring to his mouth for a taste. Both eyes flutter open in time to witness Sunghoon suck at the digit drenched with your arousal. The sight is sinfully lewd, nearly too much for you to handle. Your face reddens and you fight the inclination to hide behind your hands.

“You taste so good, too.“ He licks at his lips. “Wanna try?” Sunghoon cocks his head to the side, and you can’t find it in you to turn down his offer when he looks so innocent— yet acts like the devil himself when he’s overcome with lust. You nod your head with approval.

His duality needs to be studied at Harvard, you think in the back of your mind.

Sunghoon plunges his index finger past your hole, triggering your back to arch an inch off the bed. He chuckles lowly and watches as your hands grab desperately at the sheets beneath you to steady your sanity. The singular digit curls inside of you. Your unforeseen shock is vocalized in the form of a moan and Sunghoon repeats the motion several times.

“O-oh my god—“ You gasp.

The ravenette withdraws his finger and taps at your mouth, signaling you to open. You submit to his implicit dictation. Your lips encase his pointer, tongue swirling around it like a piece of sweet candy you’re tasting for the first time.

You bat your eyelashes prettily and moan. “Mmmh…”

“Dirty girl,” Sunghoon sniggers. He retracts his finger and you let it slip past your mouth with a ‘pop’ sound.

“Can you please give me your cock now?” You plead with a pout, doing your best impression of an endearing set of puppy eyes.

Sunghoon chuckles. “Let me at least prep you first, baby. How long has it been since you’ve had someone’s cock inside of you, anyways?”

You part your lips but close it just as quickly. To be candid, you've never been one to actively immerse yourself in the 'I'm single' scene. Your only foray into it was with Yunjin, roughly three weeks after your split with Sunghoon. The two of you ventured to a club, but it proved to be a brief endeavor. Within two hours, the fifth shot became a catalyst, turning you into an unending fountain of tears.

“Y/n?”

“Huh? Oh. Sorry…”

“I’m sorry baby. Did I overstep your boundaries?” Sunghoon cups your face with his right hand, his eyes scan yours, sincerity and concern laced in those chocolate orbs of his.

You stifle a giggle. Of all boundaries he could have crossed he draws the line at asking for your body count and not him fingering you.

“What? What’s so funny?” He asks.

“Nothing just… I think it’s ironic you ask me that now and not before we did all of this.” You motion to your bare bodies when you say ‘this.’

Sunghoon’s ears redden.

“But don’t worry, Hoonie.” You hook your arms around his neck and pull him closer to pepper his face with several reassuring kisses. “I don’t mind it all. Now can you please fuck my brains out!”

Your ex (whatever he is to you at this point) throws his head back to share a quick laugh, shortly pressing his forehead against yours.

Without warning, he buries three fingers in your pussy; your hips twitch at the sentience. They slide in and out without strain and together the two of you watch as he finger fucks your hole to “prep” for his cock. The squelching noise of your juices fill the room in addition to your moaning, and Sunghoon confronts a hurdle of his patience wearing thin, wanting to fuck you senseless.

His digits leave your hole and you whine immediately at the loss. Sunghoon uses the mass quantity of slick as a substitute for lube to lather on his angry cock. He shuffles against the bed, forcing your legs even further apart to fit himself in between them. The stretch burns your muscles but is soon forgotten when the tip of his length is rubbing your folds, occasionally bumping your swollen clit which generates a needy whine.

Sunghoon’s face screws with ecstasy when his shaft inches past your entrance. Your walls hug his length and he whimpers at the tight muscles that suffocate his erection. You squirm under him, tensed and breathing heavily. It’s hard to relax when seven inches feel like it’s splitting you in half after a long hiatus from sex. Sunghoon notices your discomfort and stills his hips from pushing further, allowing you the necessary time to adjust.

“Sorry baby, I know it’s been a while. You can take it, right? Like the good girl you are?”

You nod. He kisses your forehead, cheek, and lips to soothe your anxiety, using his lips as a distraction to keep your mind from zoning in on his cock. He seizes the opportunity to fit the rest of his length inch-by-inch, and you feel like a virgin all over again when the burn of his cock stretching you open is almost too unbearable.

“Sshh, it’ll be alright, baby.” He wipes away a loose tear. “I’m gonna move, tell me when and if it’s too much, okay?”

“O-okay, Hoonie…”

Steadily, Sunghoon recedes his hips, cock following in suit, just enough for the tip to be the only thing that your pussy clenches on. He snaps forward, your boobs jiggle at the motion and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head when he repeatedly thrusts at a steadfast pace. The pain you were once scared of is no longer a fear you have to worry about, as pleasure is the only thing you know how to feel.

“F-faster, harder, p-please Hoon.” You fight through broken moans to let your voice be heard.

“Shit—“ He curses.

Sunghoon’s fingers dig into the plush fat of your waist while his other hand presses into the space of your bed next to the side of your head. His eyebrows knit, focused entirely on increasing the speed of his thrusts. He continues to piston fuck your pussy, abusing your hole in the utmost gratifying procedure. Your thighs jiggle each time that his balls slap against your skin. Everything reminds him of an amateur homemade video he’s seen from other couples perform on Pornhub. He’ll have to ask you some other day if you’d ever be open to filming your own tapes to watch back.

“Mmh, right there, Hoonie.” You sigh dreamily, locking your legs around his waist and linking your ankles together. “You’re fucking me so good— Aah!” A high pitch squeal slips from your vocal box when his tip probes at your G-spot.

“F-fuck,” Sunghoon leans in close, relying only on one forearm to hold himself up from crushing you with his entire weight. He hides his face in your boobs, tongue flicking at the sensitive bud that hardens in response. He persistently thrusts deeper, his cockhead pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Hnngh… Y-yes, yesyesyes!” You chant. Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, scratching gently at his scalp and tugging whenever his mouth would suck or massage at your breasts. “You’re gonna— make me c-cum!“

Sunghoon’s unrelenting despite your warning. He can feel your walls clamping around his shaft, signaling your impending orgasm, and it taunts him to force himself deeper within your warm cavern at every jerk of his hips. Your hands fall to his biceps. Nails digging into his skin as your face distorts into extreme pleasure.

“I’m so close too, baby.” He groans. “Just.” Thrust. “A.” Thrust. “Couple.” Thrust. “M-more!”

“I’m cumming! I’m c-cumming—“ Your hips tremble with a frenzied urgency as your pussy pulsates around Sunghoon’s cock. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp and a long, impassioned moan escapes your lips. The sheer intensity of the moment leaving you incoherent and lost in ecstasy.

Sunghoon twitches inside of you. “Hah— you’re so— fuck!— s-sexy,” He grunts. Your head thrashes at the overstimulation of his length continuously pumping into you and you push at Sunghoon’s chest weakly, crying on his cock for him to slow down. You whine, whimper, plead for mercy so that your pussy can recover from the intense orgasm you just experienced not too long ago. In spite of that, he ignores your pleas and concentrates on finishing. It isn’t until white ropes of cum are shooting at your walls when his thrusts start to get sloppier and progressively come to a stop.

“Fuck.” Sunghoon exhales through gritted teeth. Both of you are a panting mess trying to catch your breaths as your chests rise and fall synchronously. The ravenette pulls out slowly and he groans when he sees his seed spill out of your hole, it closely reminds him of those hentai comics he’s read through illegal websites.

“I’ll get something to help clean you up.” Sunghoon lifts his weight from the bed but you reach for his forearm to grab him. You don’t have to say anything for him to understand that you don’t want him to leave your side. He brings a hand to yours, the pad of his thumb grazing the hills of your knuckles soothingly. “It’ll be fast, I promise.”

Not even 30 seconds has gone by when he re-enters your room with a damp cloth. He wipes at the areas where a mix of your cum and his seed litter your skin with sticky residue. He discards of the ruined cloth before joining you in bed where you welcome him with open arms. He plops down next to you and you turn to lay on your side so that you can get a proper view of his handsome face in post-sex afterglow. You reach out to gently touch his moles that adorn his features. The moles you missed seeing as the first thing in the morning when you’d wake up with him by your side. He grins lazily and cranes his neck to bring his lips to your forehead.

“Sunghoon…?” Your faces are merely inches apart from one another. Though the close proximity is not a foreign situation— especially after just having sex— you speak to him with a hushed tone.

“Yes?” He inquires.

“At the restaurant, you implied that you wanted to get back together again… Is it true? Do you really mean it?” Your lips are quivering and you mentally berate yourself for being so soft hearted in these types of scenarios where emotions are high, vulnerable, and transparency is called upon.

Sunghoon breathes shakily. “I really mean it. I miss you, Y/n.” He tucks away loose strands of hair that fall on your face. “These past two years without you have been hell. The first couple of months were so bad, I almost reconsidered being the chairman for father’s company so I could fight for us. Fight for you. I’m sorry if that part of my life got in our way as a couple, and I wish I had made more of an effort to be around you.”

You sniffle, “It wasn’t just your fault. I should’ve communicated instead of thinking I know better and that I thought what I did was for the greater good— because it wasn’t. And you’re right, the two years I spent without you were awful. I never wanna go through that again.”

Sunghoon loops an arm around your waist and guides your head to bury against his chest.

“We don’t have to.”

Morning rays gently infiltrate the room as Sunghoon stands before the full-length mirror in your shared master bedroom. His voice carries across the space as he greets his loving wife, 'Good morning, Mrs. Park,' while he meticulously adjusts his tie.

You stir in bed. The unwelcome intrusion of sunlight forces you awake despite the supposedly blackout curtains you requested when you first moved in with Sunghoon. You sigh in irritation. Dismissing the hope of another ten minutes of sleep, you push yourself upright, your arms stretching above your head, accompanied by a vibrant yawn. Sunghoon, amused by your morning ritual, chuckles softly.

“Still sleepy?” Your husband turns to face you after successfully finishing the Windsor knot of his tie. You blink away the fog of grogginess from your eyes and grin when you get a clear vision of your husband clad in his usual work uniform.

“Mmm… you’re so handsome.”

Sunghoon's face lights up with a genuine smile, touched by your kind words that always seem to set the perfect tone for his day. He approaches your side of the bed with a confident saunter and takes a seat beside you.

“Any plans for today, my lovely wife?”

You can't help but giggle at his endearing habit of calling you 'wife' and 'Mrs. Park.' It's become a sweet tradition between the two of you, a reminder of your loving bond that has grown since your wedding day. You twist your hand to observe the silver band that ornaments your ring finger. The diamond twinkles back at you in the bask of the light.

“I think Yunjin and I are getting brunch, then we’re going shopping right after, and later in the evening we’re gonna drink some wine and paint as we gossip about our husbands.”

Sunghoon laughs. “You’ve got a busy day ahead of yourself then.” He nudges your side playfully and you giggle. “Don’t forget to fit me into your schedule. Let’s go out for dinner tonight.”

“Cold noodles and ginseng chicken soup?”

“Where it all started.”

You envelop yourself in your husband's embrace, showering him with affectionate kisses. Starting from his moles and moving to both cheeks, his nose, forehead, and, ultimately, his irresistible lips, you express your love and absolute adoration for him with each tender peck.

“I love you, Mr. Park.” You murmur against his plush tiers.

His fingers delicately sweep aside the loose strands of hair obscuring your face, as he lovingly takes in every captivating feature, examining them with deep worship.

“I love you more, Mrs. Park.”

Two years ago you and Sunghoon sealed the knot in California. The ceremony took place at the Alila Ventana wedding venue, perched on a cliff along the rugged coast line of Big Sur. It offered a dramatic landscape, nestled amidst towering redwood trees, and a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean; the perfect picturesque backdrop for photos and videography. The outdoor spaces, gourmet dining, and coastal elegance were truly significant factors of your reception.

Sunghoon kept his promise to Mrs. Kim when the time came to send out the wedding invitations. Her excitement was beyond words as both of you entered the restaurant, radiating a newfound delight. Her gaze immediately fixated on the sparkling diamond ring on your finger— the same one she had scolded him for, which was now complete.

Come time to exchange your vows, Sunghoon's heartfelt declaration to cherish and devote himself to your love made it extremely difficult to keep your makeup in tact. Yunjin, your appointed maid of honor, had to step in to hand you tissues one after the other. The audience laughing to themselves at your showcase of emotions.

True to his words, Sunghoon carried you bridal style as he stalked down the aisle. Your families and friends cheering from their seats, their joyous applause resonating through the air. The warmth of their smiles and the happy tears in their eyes mirrored the love that enveloped you both in that moment.

Since then, life with Sunghoon after marriage was anything but dull.

[rawrlands]

I think my barf with people who do a more "canon" Ink personality is less "dang they made him annoying for what" because when I think about that I actually still really like his personality. I don't like how they make characters around him act, like why does everyone seem to hate the guy for having fun {in context of being silly and not doing like hatecrimes}

I mean even in Comyet's art they never say that people actually hate Ink like he has friends and family and at most people get a little annoyed when he doesn't understand certain things, I think the only one in canon who actually dislikes him is Dream and that's not even really "hate" or annoyance just more offputt-ness

I hope people know what I'm talking about since this is pretty niche, also no hate to anyone who does this it's perfectly fine!! It's just a personal pet peeve lol

[bluemurray]

If Quaritch is fully Na'vi (or transitioned/transformed/etc) - he would probably be the first to have some coverings bec of his preference of not just going with just a strap (and comfortability lol).

Quaritch in his Avatar body is 20 years old (close age as Jake from what I have read) but his mind is experienced. Probably fitting as one of the leaders but still a little clumsy in certain areas.

In my perfect world- him and Jake would be awesome as partners that leads a tribe (also being another extended parent of Spider). Jake always surprised how much care and love Quaritch gives to Spider, being affectionate and all yet when it comes to him, it is all glares and hisses.

.

.

<Another quick doodle barf bec I read this somewhere about Jake and Quaritch and I couldn't find it no more like i dunno if i've read it on ig or twt or youtube *sigh* 🥲 >

[hoshigray]

A Pricked Hand to Hold

Just thinking about h*lding h*nds with Miguel for the first time bc I'm still fucking soft for this man (like it's so bad).

An: Yup, it's been three weeks, and my infatuation for this man has yet to falter (or that movie in general bc I've seen it like 5-6 times already, and can't get tired of it). This was meant to be a little smthn, but I just wanted to get my soft aggression out of the way. Also, tysm for 1k followers again!! Like fr, y'all are too sweet :') Sacrificed sleep to get this done, sooooo hope you guys like it!! If there are spelling/grammar errors, my dumbass will take care of it tmrw bc I need to take a fckin nap right tf now ahhhhhh— Also! Gonna make an ATSV masterlist later today, so I'll be sure to link it when it's done!!

Cw: Miguel x reader - fluff - h*nd h*lding (barf) - the reader is implied to be in college (at least age 20) - you and Miguel aren't together [yet] but the pining is strong in this one! - Lyla and Jessica teasing you lovestruck idiots lol - you accidentally prick yourself with your lead pencil, but no blood or injuries - ayo you and Miguel almost kiss tho??

Wc: 2.1k

As usual, it was a busy day at headquarters. Many anomalies have been captured for Margo to send back home, Spiders helping other Spiders fight off evil-doers and placing them back in their universes, and Pavitr having a scare nearly revealing his identity to his girlfriend, Gayatri.

Then there's you, sitting at a table doing your homework that needs to be finished for the lecture tomorrow. But you're not alone. In front of the table are three others discussing matters of their own. Lyla is giving new information about another anomaly that needs to be captured before going home, and Jessica's leaning on her motorbike listening to her pixel friend. Right next to her is another taller person listening along as well.

Miguel O'Hara — leader of the Spider Society and the man you've been pining for a while now.

You've been working here for a few months, taking in Margo's shifts or helping Lyla relay messages to other Spiders across the multiverse. At first, you've tried to keep it simple and only see it as a job. But the more you work here, the closer you get to others...and your boss, Miguel, is no exception.

Things started short and blunt with him between you two — just simple greetings and exchanges of the necessary information. But then there was a time when the man was in HQ for far too long, probably sacrificing too much sleep and time to eat that day. So, you got him something from the cafeteria and a little note telling him to "Take care of yourself, leader!" before going home.

From that day on, you and Miguel got closer slowly but surely. Not only does he appreciate you reminding him to take breaks or grab something to eat, but he also checks up on you whenever it's your shift, talks to you on his breaks, or eats dinner with you whenever he has a chance (or when he's not stressed out).

And how you talk to each other is much more comfortable and personal. Sure, you're still respectful of his position and are aware of his duties, but it's always a guilty pleasure when he spends his little free time with you. Unfortunately, you've developed feelings for the tall and brawny Spiderman due to this.

You know how complicated it is to have feelings for someone, especially within the work field, so this is something that you have no faith in whatsoever. But for some reason, you can't help but think something between the two of you is starting to bloom...and based on his actions, maybe Miguel feels the same way as well? Lyla and Jessica tease you, saying it's plain to see that even Pav fangirls about you two.

".../n."

However, for a man like him, is such a thing possible?

"Y/n."

Your thoughts vanish as you turn to the person calling for your attention, just to find it's from Miguel. The two women are nowhere to be found, probably tending to other matters you didn't catch because of your overthinking.

"Yes!" you stutter a reply. Oh God, I hope I didn't make him call on me so many times...

"Done with your homework?" He asks while coming to your side of the table.

You give him a nod, fidgeting with your mechanical pencil. "Yeah, I took care of the stuff for my classes tomorrow. Now I just got a paper to finish by Friday...What about you? Gonna head out soon?"

"I would, but I gotta stay here in case Jess needs backup for the mission. She just left to fix up her bike before she goes."

A chuckle sneaks past you, and Miguel swoons at the sound of it. "Are you sure you wanna do that? Didn't Lyla keep bothering you the last time?"

You can tell he reminisces the time you recall; his sigh and a shake from the lead confirm so. "Yeah, well, when is she not bothering me."

"Heard that." The woman appears in front of him quickly before disappearing again, leaving Miguel a little puzzled before a slight scowl paints his face. Yet it's not so bad when he sees you laugh at the interaction.

"I swear," your giggles wear down, but your smile remains. "It's like you two are siblings or something. But that just means the pestering comes from a place of love."

He hums at your words. "Yeah, love..."

For the past few months, you've been a reoccurring theme in Miguel's life that he thought he'd never experience again. From the day he met you, he figured keeping his distance and maintaining an appropriate work relationship would benefit him. But he was a fool to challenge your beauty and welcoming aura whenever you entered the scene. Especially your kind gestures, starting with the food and your little note for him.

It was apparent then that avoidance would do more harm to himself than good, so he spent his days getting to know you more, understanding you more, appreciating you more...and worse, loving you more.

An emotion such as love has been something that's only brought up painful memories and anguish. And for that reason, Miguel has chosen to dedicate his life and being to doing something he's good at — his job protecting the multiverse. Because, in his eyes, it's the only thing he seems capable of. Not love.

...However, whenever you look at him, speak to him, or smile at him, Miguel can't fight the twinge of his heart longing for something — longing for you. And he knows he isn't the only one who thinks so since Lyla constantly ridicules him about his "schoolboy crush," just like a sibling.

Nonetheless, he still doesn't go far from the talks you share with him or the times you eat together in a friendly manner. Because that's what he and you are comfortable with, and he wouldn't want to break it. Yet he can't help but wonder what would happen if he was just a little more selfish.

Be more selfish and pursue you...without losing you.

"OUCH!!"

Without hurting you.

Miguel's thoughts are immediately halted when he hears your hurtful cry. You drop your pencil and grab your finger as you wince through the pain. And he wastes no time coming to your proximity to examine what happened. "What!? Something wrong?"

"Ahhhh, yeah, I'm fine," You reassure him with an attempted smile. "I just accidentally pricked myself with my pencil."

"Let me see."

The words take a long to register before the man takes your hand in his, the back of your hand resting on his palm while he surveys your fingers. He then sees a tiny circle indent on your middle finger. "I don't see any pieces of lead."

"Oh, thank goodness," you exhale in relief. "Because I don't think I'd survive tomorrow if I did. I got three lectures that day!"

Miguel chortles at your comment, and it has the beat of your heart quicken. "So sorry for you."

Your smile is still prominent. "Thank you, Miguel."

"Don't mention it."

Silence follows those words, yet they're substituted with gazes between you and the man. The twinge on your lips slowly dissolves the more you lose yourself in his burnt amber eyes. The same goes for Miguel, who still has your hand in his.

The internal turmoil in his mind doesn't ease at that fact, incapable of deciphering whether to let go. And when your hand slowly reciprocates the hold — turning it for both palms to face each other — his breath hitches.

"Miguel..." his name appeared in a whisper, only for him to hear. Your breathing goes shaky when he replies with his fingers intertwined with yours. And you notice him take a tense gulp, easing your nerves to know that he's also nervous.

He knows he shouldn't be this close to you as it could jeopardize the relationship you have spent all these months building and maintaining together. However, this is the first time he's been so close to you, touching you. And his heart pushes him to want more.

He knows he shouldn't...but curiosity is an intriguing dance. That's why he slowly leans forward to you.

And you go rigid by the notion...yet your eyes are drawn to his lips, and you follow suit by going inward. Eyes close, letting the moment take place for itself.

"Ready, Miguel?"

Nevermind.

Both eyes open immediately, and locked hands are withdrawn from each other. Miguel puts on his mask quickly, but you could still see a slight flush of pink on his cheeks and ears before they were covered up. You straighten yourself and look to the other side of the table to see Jessica on her motorbike entering the scene.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

"Oh—" the woman spots you two before Miguel stands straight up, and she doesn't try to hide the smile that creeps on her face. "Oh. Was I interrupting something?"

"No." You two say in unison. Jess only lifts a brow through her yellow goggles. You continue with an explanation while you pack up your stuff. "I accidentally pricked my finger with my mechanical pencil, so Miguel checked it out to see if I had any lead on it."

"Ooh, yeah, those aren't fun. Basically like a splinter." Before Jessica could say more, Lyla appeared in everyone's line of sight.

"Good, you two are still here." She jumps around between Jessica and Miguel. "The anomaly we discussed earlier has jumped to another dimension as predicted; better get them now so we can go home."

The two nod while you get up from the table with your backpack. "Good luck out there, guys." You address the older three before exiting for the night, and they all say their goodbyes to you.

For a few seconds, your eyes linger on Miguel. Despite the mask covering his face, his gaze was intense and palpable. Without saying a word, you let your eyes say your final words before turning to leave.

Miguel still watches you leave until he's unable to spot you through the dark hall. And unfortunately for him, he can feel two pairs of eyes on him. He mentally prepares himself before looking at the two women who harbor shameless grins. "What's with the faces?"

Lyla and Jessica only share a look amongst themselves and shrug before answering him. "Oh, I don't know, Miguel." The pixelated woman darts close to the man. "What's with your face?"

"Wh-What are you—"

"C'mon now, Miguel." Jessica cuts him off. "Seems like something more was going on than just a pricked finger."

He sighs. "Well, you're wrong. Because that's all it was." The two share another look with each other as their smirks go higher.

"Oh~, my darling Miguel," Jessica changes her voice to a higher pitch and daydream tone. "I wish you luck on your mission and that you return to see me tomorrow~."

"Don't you worry, my wonderful Y/n," Despite Miguel's eyes narrowing at Lyla's terrible impression of his voice, she still acted out the role. "I will return to you unscathed and have you in my loving arms in no time~."

"I don't talk like that." The two women chuckle at his blunt statement. "How old do you think I am?"

"Old enough to look like a man but still scared to talk to your lil' crush." Jessica crosses her arms with a matter-of-fact attitude, her smile itching broader when Miguel rolls his eyes through the mask.

"Ay, por Dios, can we please open the portal already?" The poor man can only take so much teasing from the two, making him feel like he should've left with you instead.

Lyla giggles one last time before Jessica uses her watch to open a portal to the desired dimension. "Whatever you say, lover boy." The portal opens, and a flash of colors and shapes contrasts with the dull room. Jessica is the first to go, Miguel following right behind her.

Even when going on his mission, his mind can't stop thinking about you and the moment you shared together earlier. It was a risky thing to have happened, and he scolds himself for letting such a thing happen. Miguel knows he isn't a person for love, for it's something meant to be destroyed by his very touch. You are no exception; the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. He loves you too much to put you through that.

But then the compliance and willingness you've expressed in holding his hand surely meant that you wanted something more, right?

If Miguel were selfish enough, he'd use that as a hint. A hint to look forward to what other things you'd allow him to express to you.

If he were selfish enough, he would plan to approach you tomorrow in the right way.

If he were selfish enough, he'd test out the waters more and finally let this "love" flourish into something better.

[celestie0]

custom font colors tutorial

note: this is for my bb @tobaccosunbxrst but also just wanted to post it to public for anyone curious on how to do custom fonts w html on tumblr. i originally made this tutorial privately for my mutual @certainlysyko so apologies for the silly choice of example text that i used lol. anyways.

so as we know, tumblr only has the following default color options for text:

but what if we want some other cool colors like coral pink or cerulean blue or barf green?

to do custom fonts, it’s very simple, but it needs to be done on pc/laptop (cannot be done on app). we are going to start with a post:

then, you’re just gonna change whatever word that you want the custom color for into one of the tumblr defaults. you do this by just selecting the text with your cursor and then tumblr’s default colors pop up. you can change into any of them, this just establishes the code in the html and makes it easy to spot

then you're going to go to the little settings thingy at the top right of the post (the settings wheel) and click on this drop down, then click on "html" which will switch it to html

now it's in html. this looks very simple bc there is only one statement here. i’ll touch on how to deal with more lengthier blocks of html code later. but for now, note this section only:

<span class="npf_color_rachel">

this is ALL we need to work with in the code

we're going to change it from

<span class="npf_color_rachel">

to

<span style="color: #[hex code]">

so, for example, something like

<span style="color: #81b7ce">

note. you can also just copy paste the lines above so you don’t have to type it out

soooo all we did was delete the class=npf_color_rachel part and just replaced it with style=“color: #[hex code]

and here's the preview! all done :)

this is the website i use to find the hex codes. a hex code is basically those codes after the hashtag so like #81AACE (don't forget to input the hashtag)

now, for those lengthier posts i mentioned, you can use ctrl+f and search the word "color". it will show up any place on the post where you have a colored font (so do this after you’ve already changed all the places you want custom colors into default tumblr colors, like in the 1st step)

this way, you can easily find the places with <span blah blah> that you need to edit

here is an example of that in one of my posts:

and yeah! that’s basically it. disclaimer, i’m not a software engineer nor so i know much about tech haha, this is just for tumblr aesthetics

alright peace out! 🧚‍♀️✨ hope this is helpful

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE ERASERMIC X READER

It's been over a month since Hizashi and Shouta kidnapped you and you were going crazy out of boredom and with nothing to do. They assured you that living with them wouldn't be THAT bad since they could take care of your every need and you would never have to work again. 

To top it all, you were also quirkless but having a smart brain didn't exactly help either since hizashi and Shouta made sure to destroy all possible means of escape for you. They rarely ever punished you and most of the times, punishments included leaving you isolated for a few days and having your favorite things take away from you (YES, even the CAT!) but to be honest, life with them wasn't ALL bad... they were nice and caring towards you, in a sickly manner of course that sometimes made you want to barf

You were sitting on the bed that you shared with your captors and you were watching a movie on Netflix on your laptop. You were bored out of your skull and weren't focused on the movie. You missed your old life dearly and you've always wanted to be an author and get your work published. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head and you immediately started typing away on your laptop

After a few days, you finally decided to post your work online on Wattpad since you had a Wattpad account and you were an author there (Lol, I feel like I'm breaking the 4th wall). It had asked you to log in but failed even after you entered your password repeatedly. You decided to check your email to see if there was something wrong and when you entered your email id, you couldn't log into THAT too

''Hizashi, why am I not able to access my email?'' you screeched from the couch that you were sitting on while Aizawa and Mic were making breakfast for you. They came out of the kitchen sat next to you, cuddled you and Aizawa said, ''Now now kitty cat, don't tell me you don't know WHY we disabled your email now do you?'' 

''You. did. what?!'' you asked in a steely calm manner since you knew it would be pointless to waste your voice against them. ''Aww.. come on little songbird, don't be like that. We did it for a very good reason and it's for your safety. Who knows WHAT sort of emails you'll be getting from WHAT sort of people. They could try stealing you away and you would be in GRAVE danger without us and that's why you need ONLY us'' Hizashi chirped like he was explaining why he couldn't play with you 

''But.... I just need it for something. I swear I won't try contacting anyone! You guys can even be next to me if you want'' you pleaded with them as they traded curious and worried looks. ''Kitten, do you have a fever?'' Aizawa asked placing his hand on top of your forehead. ''Leave me alone, I'm fine'' you said grumpily

''What do you even need an email for anyway?'' asked Hizashi all curious like. ''Well, I've written a story and I want to publish it online so people can read it'' you said. Silence. That was NOT a good sign

After a few seconds, you heard Hizashi laugh and say, ''Oh you mean that action story which you wrote? It was quite good and amazing. Shouta and me liked it but tone down the violence all right baby? We don't want our precious little darling getting all violent thoughts now do we'' and started cooing

''Wait.... how did you guys even read it?'' you asked them confused as Aizawa said, ''From your laptop of course. You can't hide anything from us you know kitty cat'' and pet your head 

''So.... is it a yes?'' you asked them slowly. ''NO'' they both said in unison as you looked at them with sadness in your eyes and asked ''WHY NOT!?'' They hated seeing you sad. It broke and shattered their hearts into a million pieces, but they had to be firm with you

''We won't stop you from writing your stories and books. In fact, we'll encourage it but why do you want to share with the other underserving SCUMBAGS and filth who don't deserve to read your beautiful work?'' asked Aizawa. ''That's true and besides the internet is getting to be dangerous place nowadays so I think we'll have to limit your time of use on your laptop. We don't want to affect your health and it's all for your safety of course'' chirped Yamada enthusiastically as you leaned back in Aizawa's touch, silently crying as Hizashi wiped your tears away 

You were 100 percent sure that now they would CERTAINLY change the laptop password or make you use the laptop under their supervision for a limited time or not even LET you use it... but what could you do? You were helpless and powerless against these so-called pro heroes who wanted to save you from all the ''dangers'' in the society and you couldn't do anything but follow their rules and abide their conditions 

''Now come on and have some breakfast'' chirped Yamada and dragged you towards the kitchen as you saw Aizawa eyeing the laptop suspiciously. You knew you weren't going to use it any time soon, that was for SURE......

[oneforthemunny]

hi! this is so silly lmao but my birthday is on tuesday the 21st (barf im turning 25) BUT if your requests are open, i was wondering if you could do a little eddie blurb (any one of the eddie’s i love them all sm) dealing with the readers birthday and how she doesn’t want to make a big deal of it (she secretly wants to but shhh) because aging is freaking her out but eddie makes it special and calms her down (this is soooo not self indulgent at all not in the slightest that would be soooo silly and crazy)

so sorry if this request is like so vague i’m just going through it fr! i love your work ive been binging it so much lately. no worries at all if you can’t get to this. okay i’m going to shut up talking now. love u!

happy happy birthday!!!! i've been saving this one for you <3 also 25 is so fun!!! anything but 23 truly. for this... i'm going with mafia!eddie lol. hope you enjoy!!!

"Baby," Eddie hummed, rounding the corner with a telephone note in hand. "Rosie said you got a call to confirm your appointment with Dr. Crothers?" His eyes met yours carefully, bleak, but scanning.

"Are you feeling alright?" He pressed, looking at you through the bathroom mirror. Your rigid posture, how you froze- even for just a moment- when the name was mentioned. Eddie didn't miss it.

"Yeah," You nodded, fingers brushing over your brows, smoothing them into place. "I- It's not that kind of appointment."

Eddie paused, waiting for you to continue. "What kind of appointment it is then?" He pressed, voice even and calm. "You're- You're not-"

"-No." You shook your head quickly. "No, I-I'm not. It's just for botox, Ed." The heat rushed to your cheeks, head ducking down to your chest.

"Botox?"

"Yeah, just a little bit. I-I read that you're supposed to get it early before you start really showing signs of aging, and it will help you not look so old in the future." You were rambling, heart buzzing furiously.

"You don't look old, baby." Eddie shook his head lightly, shoulders dropping.

He knew what this was about. You'd been off since the start of the month- your birth month. A whole month where all Eddie wanted to do- and did do- was spoil you, smother you in affection and drown you with gifts. Instead, you'd been cold, reserved.

"You don't have to do that." Your voice was soft, eyes dropping to the counter. "I'm twenty five-"

"-Exactly." Eddie rolled his eyes, scoffing lightly. "What's the matter? You're still young. Still hot." He muttered, tattooed hands brushing over your jean clad ass, squeezing your right cheek gently.

"Stop." You giggled gently, his lips finding your neck, nose buried in the perfume soaked skin- perfume he'd just bought you- lips sucking playfully at the sensitive skin.

"What's wrong?" Eddie muttered, arms heavy around your waist, an anchor that pulled you into him, steadied you. "Why are you being like this?"

You let your head rest against his shoulder, deflating in his hold. "I just feel weird." You mutter. "Getting older is weird. I still feel like I'm seventeen sometimes."

"Well, I'm glad you're not." Eddie snorted lightly, grinning at you through the mirror, squeezing your sides to make you squeal. "Glad you're twenty five. I hope you always get older with me."

You blushed, head lolling to the side, looking up at him. "You're sweet."

"I mean it." Eddie muttered, nose brushing over yours. "Not everybody gets to get older. A lot of people around me would've given anything to get older, keep having birthdays. It's not a bad thing."

You knew he was talking about his mom, maybe Jacob- his old business partner and friend.

"Besides, on birthdays," Eddie grinned, pulling away gently. "You get gifts."

"You do that all the time." You mumble, letting him pull you out of the bathroom, tugging on your hand, leading you to the stairs.

"Yeah, but not like this." Eddie grinned, that glint of devious excitement in his eyes, leaving you spinning.

He covered your eyes with his hands, a side stepped kind of dance into the sitting room, off of the garage.

"I told you not to get me anything else." You laugh, hands on his wrists to steady yourself while he guided you. "You already got me too much."

"Yeah, you're gonna like this one though, baby. Promise." You could hear Eddie's smug grin through his tone. "Alright, Gare."

There was a shuffling, a grunt of struggle from Gareth, and for a second- you really were clueless what Eddie could have possibly gotten you.

Then you heard it.

The faint whine of excited struggle.

The gasp that tore from your chest had Eddie flinching. You shoved his hands off your eyes, blinking to clear your vision, when you saw Gareth.

Standing in the middle of the room.

Wrangling a squirming, excited puppy in his arms.

"You-You didn't." Your hands flew to your mouth, eyes shining up at Eddie. He stood proudly, smile beaming with joy.

"The shelter in Bedford called last night. Gareth went and got him this morning." Eddie shrugged. "Happy birthday."

You took the excited, squirming puppy from Gareth, a sweet, baby Doberman that looked just like his brothers but with floppy ears that were too big for his size- it made your heart melt.

"Oh, look at you. You are so precious, yes you are." You cooed, nose nuzzling into the soft fur. The puppy whined excitedly, licking at your cheeks, clawing up your shoulder to get closer to you.

"He's so sweet!" You squealed, hugging the puppy closer. "You're so sweet." You look at Eddie, love drunk and starry eyed.

"Anything for you, beautiful. You know that." Eddie muttered, finger hooking under your chin, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. Well, part of a sweet kiss, until the puppy was licking at the both of you. Eddie snarled, wiping his face dramatically, your pouting glare stopping him from snapping.

[f1nalboys]

OMG. I love the tod headcannons. Would you ever do ian sleepover headcannons?

HELLOOOO ANON sorry this has taken so long, i do apologize and i hope its fun to read!!!!

WORD COUNT: 916

WARNINGS: not proofread, weed mention, ians a perv on occassion, mostly fluff

ok number one i need a sleepover with this guy NOWWWWWW

ian refuses to call it a sleepover. you two are hanging out, chilling, that’s all. if he spends the night then thats just what happens, it totally wasn't his end goal

i truly believe ian sleeps better in anyone elses bed than he does his own not for any particular reason he just loves the feeling of being on vacation and being in a different bed counts to him fr

he comes over with nothing. like deadass the clothes on his back and maybe some weed IF UR LUCKY 

he also tends to show up ‘just for a bit’ and makes a big show about sighing at the time and being like man…. i wish i didn’t have to leave but its almost time for bed……..

like girl just ask to sleep over who cares

anyways he really hates Planned Sleepover Activities

no pillow fights, no truth or dare, no spin the bottle (this can and has been done before with him, he just has to be in the mood,) no bloody mary, etc

now, of course, if he really really really loves you, he’ll do all those things and more. he is going to COMPLAIN though. like, to the point where it’s almost unenjoyable. 

he does love a good spa day though…. you ask him to put on a fuzzy robe so you can put a face mask and cucumbers on him and he’s jumping for joy lowkey

and he lets you paint his nails and stuff and he doesnt care if its messy or bumpy or if you don’t put a top coat on it, he just loves that youre doing it for ihm

ANDDDD its the quietest he’ll be. youll look up at his face and hes staring down at you with such a sickeningly sweet love sick grin that its almost enough to make you barf and he won't say a single word until youre done

and even then he’ll just go “its great baby, thank you.” heheh

like 3 hours later he’ll go “you got a lot of nail polish on my skin, god damn.” and you’ll look over and hes very methodically picking it off of his skin lol

anyways. when hes over he just wants to chill genuinely 

ian is interested in getting chinese food or pizza, getting super fucking high, and having movies or music in the background while you guys talk

and he really only does one on one sleepovers, siblings or family excluded. if you invited another friend to sleepover at the same time hes gonna be in the corner like ugh…..sigh……eyeroll…..ugh…..what no im fine its whatever……sigh…..

ian is super handsy as is but when he gets tired hes worse

you’ll know hes ready for you two to go to sleep when hes suddenly attached to your back, arms around your waist and head in your shoulder

ian loves sleepovers that are simply for you two to get shit done

like ian has to rework an art piece? hes coming over and youre finally gonna clean your room.

he tries to sleep in his regular clothes all the time (he does it at home i fear to say) so if youre against that you HAVE to have some spare clothes for him. or let him sleep in his underwear but then he’s gonna get that dumb stupid sexy grin on his face and ask if youre trying to get him naked 

which like yes ian i am but not like that….yet

waking up with ian is great if you get up before him because hes all cuddly and sweet and murmuring in his sleep and you can just stare and admire him

if he gets up first hes waking you up but hes also fucking with you

he shakes you awake and is like BABE YOU OVERSLEPT FOR XYZ!!!!! and you jump out of bed and hes like haha got you just kidding

or he draws on your face or arms if youre a heavy sleeper and he can get away with it

AND he takes photos of you sleeping all the time on his shitty little flip phone and he never tells you about it

until like weeks later when youre hanging with him in the car eating food and he laughs and turns his phone around to show you a picture of you slumped over, mouth open, drooling.

but hes a menace

hes like well im up so i need you up to????

like god bless erin for dealing with him 

but you dont have to worry about it much, he normally sleeps in if hes able to but depending on when he went to bed, he could get up before you

and good luck trying to go back to sleep because hes hitting you with pillows and squashing you and talking until you just roll your eyes and sit up

and then hed smile and go omgggg good morning sleepyhead LIKE SHUT UP

overall, ian is a fun guy to have a sleepover with if you just want to chill, not if you want to do activities if that makes sense

but hes never going to ASK to spend the night (unless youre in the car with him about to get dropped off and hes kissing you and get handsy and THEN he’ll be like babe…. cant i just hang out :((( like sigh…. of course you can bae

[rius-cave]

Do you think Adam’s attraction to Lucifer is the first time Adam has found himself attracted to a man? Or has he been with men before?

Also would you think Adam is Gay or Bi after being with Lucifer?

*slaps Adam's ass* this man can fit so much repressed homosexualism

Adam was too homophobic to sleep with any men before Lucifer. I think he PROBABLY felt attraction here and there to more affeminate guys, but as soon as he finds out they're men, he's like UUUHHHH BARF, NO

I do, however, enjoy thinking about the little headcanons that's been coming up here for a while about Michael and Adam having a thing in Eden lol

Adam would be bi. I thought about it and considered other sexualities too, but he definitely strikes me as a guy that likes both men and women in different ways (he's not gender blind like, say Husk) but he is definitely attracted to women too, no question

[jingledbells]

Hey, I saw those replies you were getting to your Billford post and wanted you to know you're not alone in the slightest. So sorry to see people dogpiled on you like that. :(

Honestly, I think a lot of folks who wanted to ship Billford anyways were just glad to latch onto The Book of Bill to give the ship legitimacy. Which is odd, because the book does just the opposite: it shows how even MORE horrible Bill was to Ford (and other people).

People can write it off as "oh fun tee hee we're just joking it's just a cartoon" but I don't know, it just makes my stomach churn. If lighthearted "tee-hee" was their only goal, then... how come none of them make lighthearted jokes or art about Filbrick throwing Stan out of the house? Or Pacifica's parents controlling her with a little bell? Or Gideon trying to forcefully make Mabel love him in creepy ways and trying to make it cute? Or Bill and the Native American shaman he literally drove to suicide by fire? Or any other example of abuse or toxic relationships in the show?

These people need to ask themselves, if drawing art and making jokes about how cute Mabel and Gideon's toxicity was seems ick to them, then... why doesn't Ford and Bill's relationship/friendship cause similar ick vibes in them? Because what Bill did to Ford was waaaaaaaay worse than what Gideon did to Mabel.

And people can write it off as, "Oh, Bill and Ford are just interesting to me.". But why? Like, when I've personally discussed topics around abuse in Gravity Falls, it's been "hey, I see the way the writers depicted this, I think this is interesting, let's analyze how the abuse affected the characters negatively and why the abuser abused".

But that's different from, "UWU Gideon's still so obsessed over Mabel, tee-hee *draws art of him imprisoning her*". Or their version, "UWU Bill's so obsessed still over Ford, tee-hee *draws art of him imprisoning Ford*". These people aren't writing deep, analytical posts about BillFord for the most part, at least that I've seen. It's all "UWU cute divorce sexy toxic men kiss now lol".

Here's the answer: A. people are riding the wave of popularity from the book and just mind-sheeping about it without thinking about it, B. or they think BillFord is hot. That's it. That's why they don't do the same with Gideon and Mabel, or don't make jokes about Filbrick or Pacifica's parents, or Bill with the shaman. Because there's no sexy to be derived from it (or at least I hope frickin' not, yikes).

They can ship what they want, but the way they dogpiled on you was shameful. You were just pointing out how the way people are turning an abusive relationship into a cute little divorce joke that leans into sexy art at times makes you feel ick. You have every right to feel that way about BillFord.

tl;dr: You got attacked because people are mindless (and have horny monke brain in some cases), you pointed out the mindlessness, they got offended, and how dare you point out that it's neither sexy or funny. If anyone dogpiles on you again, ask them why they're not also making jokes and UWU cute shipping art about Bill and the shaman, or making jokes or art about Gideon's obsession with Mabel. Or ask them what they think about the fact that Bill admitted he's his species' equivalent of a preteen in TBOB, because yes, let's ship a preteen demon who abuses a middle aged man. Much funny, much hot (/barf).

They can say "it's just a cartoon, I know it's toxic, I wouldn't like it in real life obvi", but they won't be able to explain why they latched onto BillFord instead of literally any other abusive dynamic in the show. If they say Filbrick abusing the Stans isn't funny, Pacifica's parents abusing her isn't funny, Bill fooling and harming the shaman isn't funny nor cute, and Gideon obsessing creepily over Mabel isn't funny nor cute...

Then why is it funny and cute for Bill and Ford?

^^^