#as much as I like this design I don’t think I could do a more flushed out version without losing my mind

[vantetaes]

PARENT TEACHER CONFRENCES🫧🥂

TEACHER!NANAMI X MILF BLACK FEM READER

SUMMARY!!! hardworking single mom yn is called to meet with nanami, her sons fourth grade teacher to discuss his performance.

WARNINGS!!! aggressive tones, cursing, penetration, oral (f receiving), mirror sex, affirmations, sensual, praises, 6.2k

the school hallways are eerily quiet, the usual chaos of children’s laughter, teachers and coaches directing the younger kids to class, and hurried squeaky footsteps replaced by the hum of fluorescent lights overhead. you stride through the marble floored corridor, the sharp click of your black heels slicing through the silence.

your grip tightens around the structured leather of your designer handbag as you reach the door labeled with big black lettering MR. KENTO NANAMI.

you knock twice, before using your entire body weight pushing the wooden door open without waiting for an invitation.

nanami looks up from his desk, his expression unreadable behind his gold square-framed glasses. he’s put together, wearing a clean tan suit. the matching jacket lay carelessly over the back of his chair while his white button up pressed shirt sleeves rolled up just enough to hint at forearm muscle, tie loosened just a fraction. the gold chain he wore underneath barely peeking through to catch the beams of sunlight coming through the large windows.

his whole aura screams methodical, disciplined, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes when he meets your gaze. something unreadable.

“ms. l/n, i’m surprised. thank you for making the time.” he greets, standing as a courtesy. his voice is deep, smooth, but there’s an undercurrent of exhaustion beneath the professionalism.

you set your bag down on one of the two brown leather chairs before seating yourself across from him, back straight, chin tilted slightly upward. nanami watched as your blazer tightened around your frame as you fixed your posture. your sheer stockings with lace cuffing your thigh give the man a tease, revealing with the way your mini pencil skirt rose up to crease at your hips. the simple gold jewelry necklace that hung around your neck, being fixed by freshly manicured french tips.

and the one thing he could never forget about you, you smelled like homegrown vanilla and looked like you were moisturized by gods.

“i always make time when it comes to my son, mr. kento. let’s get to the point.” your tone is crisp, practiced, the same one you use when working around the most elite of clients and workers the same. although it never mattered to nanami. outside of those aura you present, he knew you’d crumble.

“it’s about yuji. he’s a bright kid. engaging , compassionate. but i’ve noticed a pattern of distraction in class. his assignments are often rushed, and while he excels in physical activities, he struggles to focus during lessons. i’m concerned he’s not reaching his full potential.” he exhales slowly, measuring his words. his hazel eyes lock onto yours for a moment, trying to gather an expression.

“so what are you saying? that my son is a problem all of a sudden?” your brows knit together, irritation beginning to bubble beneath your skin.

“not at all, in fact i love having him in my class. i’m saying he needs more structure. more consistency.” nanami doesn’t flinch, his gaze steady. he goes to grab a manila folder, with your sons name right on the front.

“you think i don’t provide that? do you know how hard i work to make sure yuji has everything he needs?” you fold your arms, nails tapping against your sleeve, leg beginning to jump. the small sound of your heel connecting with the flooring filling the uncomfortable space.

there’s a flicker of something in his expression—understanding, maybe, but not pity.

“i’m not questioning your dedication as a parent, ms. l/n. i see how much yuji adores you. but children, especially ones as energetic as him, need more than just material stability. they need presence.”

your jaw tightens. presence. as if you haven’t sacrificed enough. as if you haven’t built an empire just so yuji never has to want for anything.

“i’m present-” you say, voice quieter now, but still firm. “i show up. the amount of money i spend on this crappy little private elementary school, i should be the one signing checks.”

nanami slightly adjusts his glasses, tapping his finger along the opening of the folder. instead, his body shifts backwards in his chair, placing the cream folder in front of you. clasping his hands together, a small, tight line smile crosses his face.

“the amount of money you donate to helping your child’s future doesn’t impress me. do with that what you will. i didn’t mean for you to feel as though i was attacking you, ms. l/n. just bringing light to the situation.”

sitting forward in your seat, you lean over. your nails drum against the polished wood of his desk, slow, deliberate. his eyes can’t help but to draw down to your exposed cleavage. watching your necklace sway with your movements.

“you assume a lot, mr. kento.” your voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it now, a sharpness honed from years of speaking over men who thought they could talk over you.

“you see a distracted child and immediately think it’s a lack of structure. you see a working mother and assume it’s a lack of presence. tell me, do you make the same assumptions about fathers?”

“i don’t assume, ms. l/n. i observe. and what i’ve observed is a boy who looks over his shoulder every time he accomplishes something. searching for approval that isn’t always there.” nanami doesn’t blink, doesn’t waver. instead, he leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the desk, his expression unwaveringly calm. you could smell the mint wafting off his breath.

“that’s not fair.” heat flares in your chest, something dangerously close to guilt threading through the frustration.

“it’s not about fair.” he says evenly.

“it’s about what’s real. yuji is brilliant, but he’s restless. he’s eager, but inconsistent. i don’t doubt for a second that you love him. but love and attention aren’t the same thing. help him or you’ll run him right into the ground.”

your lips part, ready to retort, but the words catch. because a part of you knows he isn’t wrong. knows that between early-morning meetings and late-night conference calls, between international flights and back-to-back negotiations, there are missed dinners, forgotten bedtime stories, moments you can’t get back. you work so he doesn’t have to struggle. but in doing so, maybe, just maybe, you’ve made him fight for a different kind of survival.

but admitting that feels too much like surrender.

“you’re out of line. i don’t think the dean would enjoy hear about how you spoke to their cash cow.” so you straighten, tilting your chin up just enough to remind him who you are.

“maybe-” nanami exhales slowly, pushing a hand through his blond hair. his voice remains maddeningly level.

“-but if i don’t say it, who will?”

silence stretches between you, thick with something unspoken. outside, the distant sound of a basketball bouncing against pavement echoes through the hallway.

“enough of this. i have to make it home for yuji. i appreciate your concern for my son but from now on, please mind your own business.”

collecting your purse and the folder, you stand up, straightening out your outfit. nanami stands also, watching as you flip your bouncy curls behind one ear, the skirt still high and teasing. nanami watches as your tiny frame shuffles over to the door, a smile sigh leaving his lips.

you grip the door handle, pausing just long enough to steady yourself. the conversation lingers, the weight of it pressing against your spine, taking in a deep breath.

infuriating.

“ms. l/n.” his voice stops you, low and deliberate.

“what now, nanami?” you inhale slowly before turning, arching a brow.

he watches you for a moment, arms crossed, expression unreadable. then, with the same frustrating composure he’s had all evening, “-i was too hostile.”

you blink, caught off guard. “excuse me?”

“i should have approached the conversation differently. more patience, less provocation.” he exhales, adjusting his tie, more out of habit than necessity. then, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, “let-let me make it up to you. dinner.”

there’s a pause. sharp, charged.

then you laugh, a short, disbelieving sound.

“is this your way of apologizing?”

“it’s my way of offering a reset.” his lips twitch slightly at the corner, just slightly.

“would your wife be okay with you taking out a parent?”

“no wife. just me and you.”

you study him, searching for any sign of insincerity. but nanami is firm. there’s no arrogance in his offer, no expectation, just a quiet confidence that irritates you almost as much as it intrigues you.

“interesting, well. bold of you to assume i have the time. yknow, with me being an absent mother an all.” you say smoothly, tilting your chin up.

“bold of you to assume i’m not willing to wait, just like today.” he counters with a laugh without missing a beat.

the air between you shifts, charged with something neither of you acknowledge outright.

“send me the details, mr. kento. i’ll think about it.” finally, you smirk, pushing the door open.

you don’t wait for his response as you walk out, heels clicking against the tile, but you don’t need to. because for the first time tonight, you let him have the last word.

-

nanami: dinner. friday. 8pm. send me your preference, or i’ll choose.

you: you assume i’m free.

nanami: i assume you’ll make time.

you: bold of you.

nanami: so i’ve been told.

you: fine. pick the place.

nanami: i already have. i’ll send the details.

you: don’t disappoint me.

nanami: i wouldn’t dare.

read 6:25pm

-

soft jazz hums through your bedroom, blending with the quiet rustle of fabric as you smooth your dress down in the mirror. the dark red silk pulling just right at every curve of your legs and waist. here, in the warm glow of the vanity lights, with yuji bouncing on his heels beside you, you allow yourself a moment of softness.

“mom, you look so cool!” he beams up at you, eyes bright, his excitement buzzing through the air like electricity.

“you really think so, baby?” you turn to him with a warm smile, cupping his cheek gently, watching as the boys eyes lit up like a christmas tree from the affection.

“yeah! like a superhero!” he nods enthusiastically.

“you’re too sweet.” you laugh, pressing a kiss to his forehead, immediately wiping off the faint outline of your lip combo.

behind you, mrs. okoye, yujis nanny, watches with a fond smile but says little, just straightening a few things around the room as if to give you this moment.

“but why are you dressed up? where are you going again?” yuji tugs at your hand, using his other to grab his stuffed bear.

“remember the meeting i had with mr. nanami?” you crouch to his level, smoothing a hand over his messy curly hair.

“when you got mad at him?” he scrunches his nose, pulling the stuffed animal closer.

“we had a discussion. and now, we’re having dinner.” you chuckle.

“so you like him now or are you guys just gonna talk about me, mommy?”

you smirk. “we’ll see.”

the doorbell rings. yuji gasps dramatically. “he’s here!”

before you can stop him, he dashes ahead, excitement bubbling over. he bolts around the corner, dropping his toy along the way. you shake your head fondly, grabbing your clutch and the brown bear and making your way to the door. when you open it, you blink, momentarily caught off guard.

nanami stands there, looking effortlessly composed. navy blue slacks, black button up sleeves pushed up just enough to hint at the veins decorating his forearm. the gold necklace fully visible unlike earlier. but what surprises you isn’t how good he looks. it’s the massive bouquet of red roses and baby’s breath in his hand. the red and white flowers somehow glistening in the moons light.

he stares at you in awe. the way the red dress compliments the rich brown of your skin. he admired how well you layered the gold and diamond jewelry, your warm house lighting catching the gleams perfectly. he loved the way the dress held you, how he could see the outline of your already hard nipples against the silk fabric.

“good evening, ms. l/n.” his voice is smooth, steady, but there’s something almost hesitant in the way he holds out the bouquet. “these are for you.”

“you bring flowers to all your parent-teacher meetings, mr. kento?” your eyes flicker from the flowers to him.

“only when i come on too strong.” his lips twitch, just barely, scratching the back of his neck.

before you can respond, yuji tugs at your dress. “mom! look, flowers!”

“i see that, baby.” you smile, accepting them with one hand while ruffling yuji’s hair with the other. then, turning back to nanami, you arch a brow.

“you’re trying very hard to be charming.”

“is it working?”

you tilt your head, considering, before turning toward the nanny.

“mrs. okoye, put these in water for me? and uh- make sure he’s in bed by 9 at the latest. he has a test monday, his brain needs the rest.”

“but mommy!”

“no buts, that’s how i ended up in this dress in the first place.”

mrs. okoye nods, taking them with a small, knowing smile. “of course, dear.”

“mom says you’re not gonna annoy her tonight.” yuji grins up at nanami.

nanami crouches down to hear the boy more, then glances at you, amused. “is that so?”

you smirk, stepping past the threshold. “we’ll see.”

-

the restaurant is warm and intimate. a few candles provide low lighting casting a golden glow over dark wood and crisp linens. it’s elegant, but not in the way that feels forced or ostentatious. it’s intentional, curated. something made to make you feel something.

nanami is composed, though somehow his tie discarded somewhere between the car ride and now. he looks, relaxed. or at least, as relaxed as a man like him allows himself to be.

“you chose well, i expected something more- predictable, if im being honest.” you say bluntly, running a finger along the rim of your wine glass, the red liquid swishing.

“ah, so you expected a steakhouse.” he lifts a brow, swirling the amber liquid in his own glass.

“no but i expected something safe.” you smirk.

he exhales, the closest thing to a chuckle slipping through his lips. “i don’t play safe.”

you study him for a moment, letting the words settle between you. nanami is measured, meticulous, but never passive.

“oh? you ordered for me?” the waiter arrives, setting down your plates with quiet efficiency. you glance down, amused.

“i made an educated guess.” nanami sets his napkin in his lap.

“i assume you don’t waste time on things like scanning menus when you already know what you want.”

“you assume a lot about me, nanami.” you lean back in your chair, regarding him with interest.

he meets your gaze without hesitation. “i’ve observed things about you since i’ve started teaching yuji.”

the corner of your lips lifts slightly.

“oh yeah? and what else have you observed?” you take another sip.

he cuts into his meal with precision, not breaking eye contact with you.

“that you’re sharp. decisive. used to being in control-” a pause. he places his glass between his lips, taking a quick sip. then, casually “-and that you rarely let yourself slow down ever.”

your grip tightens just slightly around your fork, tongue picking at the inside of your cheek.

“what else?”

“you’re stubborn. too scared to let anyone in. you think too much about what matters right now and not how it’ll affect your son or his growing up-“

“oh! so now you’re a therapist?”

“ha- ms. l/n, i’m not saying this to be rude. i’m just a teacher.” he takes another sip of his drink. “but one who pays attention.” he starts eating, eyes staying on your frame.

you exhale through your nose, shaking your head. “yuji talks too much.”

“he adores you.” nanami actually smiles at that, small, barely there, but real.

“he’s a good kid.” the warmth in your chest is immediate, but you mask it with a slow sip of wine.

“he is.” nanami leans forward slightly, forearms resting on the table. “-and he wants more of you.”

your jaw tenses, and he catches it, because of course he does.

“did you ask me out to berate me? you think i don’t know that?” your voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it now. you pinch the bridge of your nose, eyebrows furrowing.

“i think you know. i think you hate that you can’t fix it as easily as everything else in your life.” nanami doesn’t waver.

the honesty of it stings. not because it’s cruel, but because it’s true.

you inhale slowly, setting your glass down. “do you always talk like this over dinner?”

he tilts his head slightly. “would you prefer small talk?”

you hold his gaze, weighing the challenge in it.

then, slowly, a smirk curves your lips. “no.”

he nods once, as if he already knew.

the conversation shifts, flows. work, travel, books that neither of you have had time to finish.

the tension doesn’t leave, but it changes, settling into something less combative, more intimate.

at some point, the plates are cleared. at some point, your wine glasses are refilled for the fifth time. at some point, you realize you’re enjoying this.

and at some point, nanami sets his glass down, watching you with that same measured gaze, and says,

“would you let yourself slow down? just for a little while?”

the question hangs between you, heavier than the air, lighter than the wine.

and for the first time in a long time, you don’t have an immediate answer. in all your tipsy, deep talk with the man, you’d actually started to enjoy the way he was looking at you. how protective and smart he was. how much he cared about a child that wasn’t even his own.

-

the drive to nanami’s place is smooth, the city lights blurring past as the car hums through the quiet night.

nanami’s apartment is quiet, warm in a way that surprises you. large windows take up a vast majority of his walls. pure marble countertops, redwood flooring. ambient lighting coming from his carved baseboards.

“jesus, how much does teaching actually pay?” upon entering, the much taller man wastes no time bending down, hands tracing the outline of your body as he carefully removes your expensive heels, placing them to the side and grabbing a pair of slippers from the adjacent shoe rack. carefully sliding them on you, letting you adjust, he walks you over to the bar stools.

“i’ve been teaching a long time, ms. l/n-“

“shit, maybe i should quit my empire and start. and please. call me yn.”

a record hums low in the background, something slow and rich, filling the silence between you.

he moves with his usual precision, reaching into a fully see through cabinet. pouring two glasses of whiskey without asking, handing you one with a steady hand. his fingers brush yours, just for a second, and it’s enough to make something flicker beneath your skin. you take a sip letting the heat settle in your chest.

“let’s move to the couch.” he walks from behind the island, helping you off the high bar hair and leading you by the small of your back to his sleek black couch.

“such a gentleman, who would’ve thought.” you joke, leaning back against the couch.

“you expected something else?” nanami sits beside you, not too close, but close enough.

“i expected something colder.” you tilt your head slightly, studying him. his lips pressed to the glass yet his eyes are focused on the way your dress creased at your waist.

“i’m not as rigid as you think, im sorry about earlier.” his lips quirk, just barely. finally taking a drawn out sip, he places his glass down on one of the sleek black coasters.

“no?” your gaze lingers on him over the rim of your glass.

he exhales, slow, watching you the way he always does, like he’s considering his next words carefully.

“no.”

-

you’re curled into the couch now, one leg tucked beneath you, nanami sitting close beside you, his hand resting on your knee, thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles against your skin. the city lights below flicker and shine through the darker space. it felt really natural in a sense.

“so, yuji? are you still in contact with his father or-“

your eyes widen as you place the rim of the glass to your lips, drinking in as much of the liquid as you could. already feeling the affects of the wine from dinner and the two glasses of aged whiskey tenfold. your head drops, your bouncy hair covering the sides of your face.

“woah, im sorry if it’s early-“ shaking your hand, you finish off the drink. placing the glass back down.

“i mean, what really is there to say? he got me pregnant, decided he didn’t want to have a wife or a son. left. pretty simple.”

nanamis eyes crease at the side a little, watching as your expression began to falter.

“i won’t bring it up again, im sorry.”

“it’s not your fault. i knew you’d get curious eventually.”

the rest of the conversation flows easily, the whiskey loosening the edges just enough. you talk about work, about travel, and nanami listens intently, his attention never wavering. at some point, the distance between you shrinks, you can feel the warmth radiating off him.

“that’s in a week?” he asks, the coldness of his ring sliding across your now exposed thigh.

“a week? i wish! that’s a day to day schedule.”

“holy shit! i’d rather double the size of my classes.”

your glass is fully empty when he reaches out, his fingers brushing a stray curl from your cheek, tucking it behind your ear.

you pause, breath catching just slightly. “what are you doing, nanami?”

his touch lingers, his thumb ghosting along your jaw. “just checking on you.”

his voice is quiet, deep, pulling you in like a slow tide. you should say something sharp, something to deflect, but you don’t. instead, you hold his gaze, letting the moment stretch, letting the tension coil tighter between you. the pad of his thumb rubs across your face gently.

“you always this bold?” you murmur, tilting your chin up just slightly.

“not usually.”

you find yourself leaning forward, falling into the man’s smell. his blonde hair beginning to loose its shape from the day, falling in front of his face. jokingly, you remove one of the fallen strands, pushing it back up into the style before. he leans forward fully, finally connecting your lips.

it’s slow at first, testing, like he’s waiting for you to pull away. when you don’t, he deepens it, his hand slipping to the nape of your neck, fingers threading around your skin as he pulls you closer. he tastes like whiskey, warm and smooth, and something unmistakably him.

your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, gripping him as he presses against you, his other hand sliding to your waist, guiding you into him. the way he moves is controlled, deliberate, like he’s savoring every second. with your back pressed to the arm of the couch, you could feel the hunger radiating off the man.

when you break apart, you’re breathless, your pulse thrumming beneath your skin.

“tell me if this is too much.” he murmurs, his lips grazing your jaw.

you shake your head, a small smirk playing at your lips. “you think i don’t know what i’m doing?”

nanami exhales a quiet chuckle, his lips brushing yours again, softer this time, slower. “you’re a headache.”

“you like that, though.” you hum, trailing your fingers up his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

his grip on your waist tightens. “i do.”

then he kisses you again, deeper, hungrier, like he’s done pretending this isn’t exactly where the night was always meant to end.

his other hand finds your waist, pulling you fully against him, his grip firm, unyielding. he kisses like he does everything else. controlled, intentional, like he’s taking his time memorizing the way you taste, the way you move against him.

you sigh against his lips, your hands moving to his shirt, fingers slipping beneath the fabric to find the warmth of his skin. his breath hitches slightly at the cold touch, and the sound sends heat pooling low in your underwear.

“you always this damn patient?” you murmur impatiently against his lips, teasing.

nanami exhales a quiet chuckle, though there’s an edge to it now, something unraveling at the seams.

“not always.”

you smirk, your nails dragging lightly down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch.

“then don’t be.”

his restraint cracks.

nanami moves without hesitation, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulls you into his lap, settling you against him. the shift has you gasping softly, and he takes advantage of it, his mouth trailing along your jaw, down the column of your throat, lips and teeth and tongue leaving a slow-burning path in their wake.

you tilt your head, giving him more access, helping him out by hiking the skirt of your dress up to your hips, showing off your matching red lace panties. your fingers threading into his hair, tugging slightly. he groans against your skin, low and deep, his hands sliding beneath the fabric of your dress, fingertips teasing against bare skin.

“yn-” he breathes, voice rough with restraint, forehead resting against your collarbone. “-tell me you want this.”

you guide his face back up, meeting his gaze, dark and heavy with desire. your fingers brush along his jaw before pulling him back in, your lips barely grazing his as you whisper.

“i do.”

whatever tension was left shatters.

nanami stands effortlessly, lifting you with him as he moves through the apartment, his mouth still on yours, his hands gripping you like he has no intention of letting go.

when he reaches the bedroom, he presses you against the doorframe for just a second, just long enough to look at you—really look at you.

“last chance.” he murmurs, though his hold on you says he already knows the answer.

you smile, slow and knowing, fingers tracing down the buttons of his shirt before slipping one free.

“shut the hell up and fuck me, nanami.”

nanami doesn’t hesitate. the second the words leave your lips, his mouth crashes into yours, all slow-burning control unraveling into something deeper, something more desperate. he carries you effortlessly across the threshold of his bedroom, his grip firm but careful, like he’s savoring the way you feel against him.

the room is dimly lit, the city lights outside casting a soft glow through the windows, but you barely register anything beyond the warmth of his body, the way he moves, the way he kisses you like he’s been waiting for this—like he’s been holding himself back for too long.

he sets you down gently on the edge of the bed, the fluffy black duvet puffy up as you sit. but before he can pull away, you tighten your grip on his shirt, keeping him close.

“uh- don’t act shy now.” you murmur against his lips, fingers making quick work of the remaining buttons.

nanami exhales sharply, his hands settling on your thighs, thumbs pressing slow, deliberate circles into your skin.

“trust me, shy is the last thing i am.” he says, voice low, rough with restraint,

you smile, trailing your hands down his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath your fingertips. then, in one smooth motion, you push the shirt from his shoulders, letting it slide to the floor. disappear into the floor from the nights darkness.

your gaze sweeps over him, taking in the broad planes of muscle, tattoos littered across his skin. the faint lighting contouring his abs. your fingers trace over, your touch featherlight.

“you stare a lot.” he murmurs, amused.

you hum, tilting your head as you drag your nails lightly down his torso. “i like what i see.”

his breath stutters just slightly, and before you can tease him about it, he leans down, capturing your lips in another deep, lingering kiss. this one is different. slower, heavier, like he’s savoring every second, every sigh, every way your body reacts to him.

you let him, melting into the warmth of his touch, into the way his hands slide up your sides, tracing over fabric as if debating whether to remove it.

“nanami.” you murmur against his lips, impatient now.

he exhales a quiet chuckle, lips trailing along your jaw, down the column of your throat, pressing slow, deliberate kisses against your skin.

“hmm?”

“stop teasing.”

he pulls back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. then, his hands move. slow, steady, as he starts to undo the zipper of your dress.

“uh uh uh, say please.” he murmurs, lips curving just slightly.

you arch a brow, amused despite the heat pooling low in your core.

“you’re pushing your luck.”

nanami smirks, fingers trailing over newly exposed skin, making you shiver.

“and yet, you haven’t stopped me.” he muses, voice dipping lower. with ease, he slips the dress from around your waist, gently pushing your body back to lay down in the warmth of the comforter.

his lips trace soft kisses down your collarbone, nipping slowly at the skin. you gasp, head falling back into the mattress, enjoying the feeling of warmth coming from the man’s breath. he proceeds down, planting kisses down to your exposed chest, tongue faintly sliding over your swollen buds.

“oh! fuck nanami, i’m gonna hurt you.” propping your body up on your elbows, he pushes you right back.

“fine, since you wanna be so impatient.”

dipping down, he picks you up, tossing carefully you so that your head rest on his massive pillows. crawling up to you, his lips pepper kisses. down your sternum, under your breast, kissing slowly down your torso, planting one first one to your belly button.

“how pretty they are, hm? just for me?” his voice raspy and hiding hunger, you let out a small sigh, fingers grasping onto the man’s blonde locs.

his head dips between your thighs, mouth pressing against your clothed cunt. a slight hum comes from his chest, letting his head fall to one side as his eyes look up at you, drunkenly.

without further hesitation, he pulls your panties to the side, tongue immediately collecting your slick that pooled. this was the most intimate you’ve been in a man since yuji was conceived. and god did it feel good.

his hands hook around your legs, holding you open in a middle split while one hand held the lingerie to the side while the other rubbed slow, agonizing circles into the swollen nub. he uses his tongue to slowly pump in and out of your throbbing hole. in the darkness of the room, all you can see is stars and made up shapes floating around in the void. tears pooling at the corners of your eyes as you feel nanami begin to slowly suck at your clit, plump lips wrapped gently around while the tip of his tongue spells out his name. his middle and ring finger pushing and pulling out of you, the sounds of wetness filling the room.

your mouth open, head thrown back into the pillows, and fingers grasping onto the man’s head for dear life, he ate you like he was starving. like a wild beast. everytime he removed his lips from sucking, using his fingers to curl up inside you, fucking your gummy walls.

“nami- oh! i’m gonna cum!” he knew it. he felt how tight you were getting around his fingers. how you were pulling him in now.

“you’re so beautiful, do it. make a mess on my fingers.”

that was enough to have you throwing your arms around the man’s neck, pulling him into a hug as the coil in your belly burned.

“shit! oh fuck.” he let you hold onto him for a few seconds before he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, watching as you frown from the lack of touch.

instead, climbs off the bed, uses his abs to wipe his hands off. he swiftly undoes his leather belt, unbuckling his slacks and tossing them somewhere else in the room. almost hopping right back onto the bed, he climbs back to your limp frame.

“you okay?” he asks, removing a few strands of hair sticking to your forehead.

“mhm.” you give him a weak thumbs up, letting your hand fall against his chest. he leans over, placing a swift kiss to your lips.

“i know you can give me another one though.”

and maybe that’s how you ended up here. bent over his sink, watching as he fucks you passionately. one hand gently around your throat, holding you up, and the other dug securely into your waist. his strokes are slow, sensual. but the way he was looking at you. his eyes got darker, body seemed to get bigger, and he was fucking you in front of his mirror.

“i knew you could take it, hm? say ‘i’m all yours’.” he watched you in the mirror as your makeup smudged and began to run down your face.

“i’m all yours, nami!” you cry out, feeling full from his length.

“mhm, good job baby. now say ‘im a great mother’.” you shake your head before he stops you, halting his movements and staring at you in the mirror. lips pressed against your ear, eye contact never stopping.

“was i asking you? say it.” you whine, trying to fuck yourself into his length, only to get met with a slap on the ass.

“say. it.”

“i’m a great mother!” he rams back into you, causing you to hunch over the counter. eyes still on the mirror as your breast press against the cold marble. he’s relentless, needy. his hand presses into your back as he fucks into you.

“yes you fucking are baby. let me give you another one.” he didn’t know what he was saying. all he knew was that seeing you, bent over his counter, eyes rolling to the back of your head, drooling. he never wanted to stop. he never was going to. he could feel the climax building, watching and feeling as you came undone under him.

“i’m gonna cum baby, oh fuck!”

-

it’s a short drive to his school, and before long, you’re stepping out, holding his hand as you walk him to class. yuji doesn’t mind- not yet, at least. he swings your arm between you both, talking about his favorite cartoons and how he’s going to beat his friend at some game they play during recess.

but as you reach the door to his classroom, his chatter slows, his fingers curling around yours a little tighter.

you glance down at him. “what’s up, baby?”

“you’re gonna be okay today, right?” he hesitates, then looks up at you with those big, earnest eyes.

you blink, caught off guard.

“of course. why wouldn’t i be?”

“sometimes you look tired after you drop me off.” he shifts on his feet, playing with his fingers.

your chest tightens.

you crouch down so you’re at his level, cupping his little face in both hands.

“baby, i’m always okay. especially when i get to come home to you, you hear me? you’re my favorite person in this whole world. i’m always okay when im with you.”

he nods, his tiny hands resting over yours.

“promise?” his voice small.

you lean in, kissing his forehead.

“i super promise.”

a throat clears behind you.

you already know who it is before you turn, feeling the weight of his gaze before you even meet his eyes.

nanami stands in the doorway, his usual crisp attire perfectly in place, though there’s a softness in his face when he looks at yuji and a different kind of softness when his eyes flicker to you.

“good morning, yuji.” he greets first, as always.

“morning, mr. nanami!” yuji chirps, then glances back at you.

“mommy’s happy today.”

your lips part slightly, surprised at his boldness, but nanami only nods, as if he already knew.

“good,” he says simply, then meets your gaze, something unreadable flickering behind his glasses. “i like seeing that.”

your breath catches for just a second, but before you can respond, yuji tugs on your hand.

“okay, mama, you can go now. love you!”

you exhale a quiet laugh, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

“love you more, baby.”

he runs inside without another glance, leaving you standing in the doorway with nanami, his presence steady beside you.

you glance up at him, tilting your head. “you always this charming first thing in the morning?”

“only with you.” he exhales softly, almost a laugh.

“dangerous habit, mr. kento.” your heart stumbles, but you cover it with a smirk.

nanami hums, hands in his pockets. “so i’ve been told.”

you roll your eyes, shaking your head as you take a step back.

“see you later, nami.”

“looking forward to it.” his lips twitch into a smile.

you turn, heading back down the hall, but you can still feel his gaze on you.

and for once, you don’t mind being watched.

© vantetaes. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. ageless/blank blogs dni.

[steddieas-shegoes]

if you fall, i will catch you

for @steddielovemonth day 2 using Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper

rated t | 855 words | no cw | tags: high school, prom, slow dance, flirting, open ending but assumed getting together

🪩🕺💃🪩🕺💃🪩🕺💃🪩💃🕺🪩

Prom is stupid.

Steve didn’t even want to come. He didn’t have a date and nothing is more embarrassing than showing up to prom alone. Even the nerds come as a group, dancing and laughing together.

His mom made an appointment for his suit fitting and he couldn’t really explain to her that there was no need. She still thinks he and Nancy are on track to be married when Nancy graduates high school. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he’ll probably die alone.

Okay, that’s a little dramatic. He’s probably not gonna die alone.

But he may die unhappy, and that’s worse.

Most of the music hasn’t been terrible so far, at least. Only one slow song played and no one seemed interested in dancing to it.

Steve’s a fucking wallflower at his own prom. He never saw this coming.

He figures he could probably escape within the next few songs, no one would even notice his absence. He makes a mental plan to wait until one of the parent chaperones walks back to the other side of the room.

Then he’s off.

He manages to escape to the hall behind the gym, the one that leads to the auditorium and drama class, not the main building of the school. No one should be back here. It’s the perfect escape route.

“Never thought I’d see the day when King Steve is trying to escape prom,” a voice says from the end of the hall. The music from the gym is echoing in here, but the voice is much louder. It’s familiar, too. “Miss Wheeler too busy with Byers to dance?”

It’s Munson. Steve sighs.

“Why are you even here?”

“It’s my senior prom, too! Or should those of us not graduating not be allowed?” Eddie walks closer and Steve sees that he’s actually dressed up. It’s not a designer suit like he’s been forced into, but it’s nice. Eddie looks…nice.

“Wait,” Steve registers what he actually said. “Not graduating?”

“Yep. Apparently quadratic formulas are crucial to my development and I cannot enter society until I understand them.” Eddie kicks his foot across the tile, leaving a scuff mark from shoes that have probably been waxed beyond necessity. “And I guess dissecting a frog and turning in homework may have helped.”

“But aren’t you pretty smart?” Steve thought he was one of those dungeon dweebs like Dustin. Dustin’s the smartest person he knows, without a doubt, kid or not. He thought all the nerds who play that game were like that.

“Sure, I’m smart enough,” Eddie scoffs. “But I don’t play by their rules. I forget to do homework. I argue.”

“But if you know the stuff, they can’t fail you.”

“Ah, but they can. I don’t have the Harrington name to convince them to change a D to a C. It’s all good. Everyone expected it.”

Steve’s brows furrow, forehead creasing as he thinks about how many things people expected of him that won’t happen.

“Just because people expect it doesn’t mean you have to give it to them,” he says.

Eddie’s eyes widen and he seems shocked by Steve’s words. But the shock wears off quickly. Steve wonders if he imagined it.

“Right you are! Very wise words from the king,” Eddie bows dramatically.

Steve laughs.

Eddie glances up, tense until he realizes Steve’s not laughing at him, just at the entertainment. He stands straight and holds out his hand.

“I do believe such wise words should be repaid with a dance,” Eddie puts on a fake British accent, nose pointed to the sky, smirk playing on his lips.

Steve thinks this must be what it’s like to be charmed by someone.

“A dance?” Steve asks. “Here? With me?”

“It would be my honor,” Eddie loses the accent and turns his head back down so he’s looking right at Steve’s eyes. “Miss Lauper wrote this song just for us, after all.”

Steve’s confusion grows until he hears the song coming from the gym. He can only imagine how awkward it must be in the gym while some couples slow dance with chaperones watching their every breath. He reaches out and takes Eddie’s hand.

“The honor is mine, sir Munson,” Steve tries for an accent like Eddie had previously, but it falls flat.

Eddie pulls him close, but hesitates before he puts an arm around his waist. Steve feels breathless all of a sudden, like they’ve rocketed into space and he forgot one of those astronaut suits. He nods, giving permission for Eddie to take the lead.

When Eddie pulls him closer, they’re almost flush against each other.

Steve’s heart is racing.

“I didn’t know you were weird,” Eddie admits quietly. It sounds a lot like admiration. He’s swaying them back and forth gently, and Steve finds it’s easy to lose track of everything but the way Eddie’s hands rest on his body. “It’s nice to see you, Steve.”

It’s a lot more than what it sounds like.

As Cyndi Lauper plays, Steve wonders if this is how his prom was always meant to be spent: in Eddie Munson’s arms, falling.

[springsketches]

The Deity of Fluctuation and Balance was a monarch that stood above everything, keeping it all together. A deity forever fair but always internally at odds. A being that represented change and stagnation, stability and inconsistency, a walking contradiction. Despite the internal arguments, there was always a calmness and peace. Many compared their existence to that of time, forever changing yet forever the same. It was something they agreed on.

One day a mortal requested an audience, the deity struggled to make a decision despite how many mortals they let in who had requested an audience before.

“We shouldn’t bother, they never listen. Nor do they have anything to say worth hearing out.” Said the part of change.

“That’s a little cruel, justice would not exist if it wasn’t for a mortal speaking to us. We should at least hear them out. You always like to see if mortals have changed, why not here?” Argued the one of stability. Stability was always known for their kindness and mercy.

“I don’t know.” said change “Something…something about this one specifically feels…off. But you have always been more fair than I would be on these matters. That’s what I love about you. Let’s hear them out.”

Little did they know, this one act would leave them forever changed. Erase their very existence into one of irrelevance for a different story.

One fate cruelly punished for his mercy by turning him into a monster, pressured into initiating the violence he refused to dish out by the very mortal he gave a chance with the blade that split him in two.

The other getting to keep her monarch status, but trapped in a prison for who knows how long, forever alone. And at the expense of being forced to be hunted by the very being that once kept them close together.

Heya. I kinda realized that we don’t talk enough about how the long quiet and the shifting mound were once the same being. I decided to make some concept art of what I think they looked like when they were the same! I hope you like it and the little scenario I made! Maybe I’ll do a more flushed out version of this design, but probably not. I’m probably just gonna do the smaller/mortal version of this.

[luvvictoria]

Just thinking about Experimental Combat Android!Ghost — a machine built for war, cold, precise, and lethal… until you come along and start making him glitch.

Android!Ghost – A classified military experiment. Ghost isn’t just a machine; he’s the machine. The most advanced combat android ever built, designed to be faster, stronger, and deadlier than any human soldier.

Android!Ghost - " Machines don’t feel." – That’s what they told you when you were assigned to work with him. You were supposed to monitor his efficiency, his combat skills—not question why he sometimes hesitates before pulling the trigger, or why his responses sound too… human.

Android!Ghost - The "Glitch" – At first, it’s subtle. Ghost starts reacting to you in ways he shouldn’t—his head tilting slightly when you laugh, lingering when you touch his armor to make adjustments. But then, it escalates. He shields you when he should be prioritizing the mission. His voice lowers when he speaks your name. His grip tightens when someone else gets too close.

Android!Ghost - "I was built to kill. Not to want." – Ghost isn’t supposed to feel things like possessiveness, protectiveness, or the deep pull in his circuits whenever you look at him like he’s more than a machine. And yet… he does.

Android!Ghost – What if he chooses to evolve? To overwrite his own code? To become something beyond what he was programmed to be—for you?

This could be SO good with a mix of tension, slow-burn, and that delicious dynamic of “machine built for destruction, but somehow, he only softens for you.” 😏 IDK IDK BUT LIKE THINK ABOUT THIS !!!

Android!Ghost is built like a war machine. Advanced nanotech alloy plating, reinforced joints, enhanced reflexes—he’s stronger, faster, and near-indestructible. The ultimate super-soldier.

Android!Ghost's voice is deep, modulated, and just slightly too perfect. There’s a smooth, synthetic quality to it—like a ghost of a real voice. But when he speaks your name, it sounds… softer. Less programmed.

Android!Ghost has no heartbeat. No warmth. But when he places a gloved hand against your chest, his fingers linger, pressing—as if he’s trying to understand what it means.

Android!Ghost can see in the dark, detect heat signatures, and process thousands of calculations in seconds. And yet… for some reason… he still watches you like he can’t predict you.

Android!Ghost's face is a blank metal mask with faintly glowing optics. But when he looks at you, his gaze lingers a little too long. His processors stall for half a second too much.

Android!Ghost who shouldn’t be protective. He was programmed to protect the mission—not individuals. And yet, when a bullet flies toward you, he’s in front of you before you can even react, taking the hit like it’s nothing.

Android!Ghost doesn’t breathe. But sometimes, you swear you hear something like a sigh—an artificial exhale when he’s near you. Like a machine trying to imitate what it once was.

Android!Ghost never questioned orders—until you. The first time you ask, “Are you okay?” after a mission, he hesitates. His AI stutters. “I do not require… concern.” But something in him doesn’t process that answer as correct.

Android!Ghost starts favoring your commands. Technically, you’re not his superior. But when you say, “Ghost, stand down,” he does—even when HQ is still yelling for him to attack.

Android!Ghost studies your expressions. You tell yourself it’s just a quirk in his AI, but when you frown, he tilts his head—adjusting. Learning. Like he wants to understand.

Android!Ghost recognizes your footsteps. Out of a whole base of soldiers, he knows when it’s you walking in. His systems pick up the pattern immediately—his synthetic muscles shifting, adjusting.

Android!Ghost's reactions to you are… different. You lightly smack his shoulder one day, jokingly, and his whole system lags for 0.4 seconds before rebooting.

Android!Ghost should not dream. And yet, there are nights when he powers down and reboots with data fragments he does not recognize—memories that feel too human.

Android!Ghost's grip is gentle with you—always. He could crush a skull with his bare hands. But when he touches you? He calibrates his strength to the softest pressure.

Android!Ghost never lets you walk into danger alone. He was not programmed for fear. But the thought of losing you makes something in his systems glitch—his servos locking up, refusing to let you go forward without him.

Android!Ghost's voice softens when he speaks to you. At first, you think it’s just your imagination. But no—his tone modulation shifts only for you.

Android!Ghost who one day, overrides his programming. The mission demands he leave you behind. But instead—he grabs you and runs. His directives be damned.

Android!Ghost chooses you over the mission. That’s when the military realizes: he’s defective.

Android!Ghost's creators want to reset him—to wipe whatever has made him too human. But he resists.

“You cannot take me from her.” His voice crackles. His systems struggle. But he fights back.

Android!Ghost goes rogue. And you? You’re the only person left in the world that he trusts.

I'M GOING FERAL WOHHHHH

[yourislandgirl]

*:ꔫ:*ₓₒ LET ME TREAT YOU ˚ ༘♡ੈ✩ || 박종성 x fem!reader || drabble

— KISS ME, DON’T SAY NO series

summary: jay was a giver, he always has been. so when your darling boyfriend decided to treat you with his new pay check, you were as grateful as always, but you soon decide that there were more important things than a new pair of jeans

genres: fluff, romance, non-idol!jay x non-idol!reader, est. relationship

warnings: attempts at humour, the smallest hint of angst, potential to feel guilt bcs jay is too good for this world

[archive]

“I might try this one on too.”

Jay smiled, gesturing for you to let him hold the jeans.

His first pay check had just arrived and your boyfriend had surprised you with a trip to the mall and a nice lunch.

You felt like you’d already splurged enough on the delicious affogato at the cafe but Jay had insisted that you both treat yourselves to some new clothes. And you desperately wanted a new pair of jeans.

“Jay, I swear, it’s impossible to find one that fits exactly the way I want.” You had about four different styles of denim pants hung over one arm as you sifted through the hangers for more options.

Jay was designated with the task to keep track of which jeans seemed closest to your desired style.

You had your back turned to him but you could still hear your boyfriend sigh a little, leaning against the wall as you continued your hunt.

“Love,” he called out, “how about you start trying some of these and see if we can eliminate some options.”

You waved a hand as a gesture for him to wait a second. “I just need one more!”

Jay scoffed a laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sure. Sure. Whatever you say.”

“Mhm.”

more under cut !!

After staying silent for a few moments, Jay cleared his throat. “If these jeans fit anything like the ones you’re wearing right now, then I guess it’ll be worth it.”

You gasped, flicking your head to the side, “Park Jongseong!”

Heart racing at the sound of his laughter, you turned away hastily to grab the last pair of jeans in your size before rushing off to the trials rooms.

“Goddamn, slow down.” Jay followed behind you, his long strides helping him catch up in no time.

A smirk creeped onto your face and you shook your head involuntarily at the way Jay pulled you closer by your waist, walking in tandem as you reached the last stall.

“Here.” He handed you the pile you considered ‘Pile 1’ aka the jeans that you were hoping and praying would fit you because they looked perfect. He proceeded to take ‘Pile 2’ off your hands. “Gimme those, and I’ll be right here if you need me.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Thanks baby,” you whispered, before sliding the curtain shut.

Out of the four jeans you’d brought into the trail room, three fit you quite nicely, but one in particular, was perfect. So much so that you couldn’t help but poke your head out (followed by a quick laugh at Jay’s startled expression) before asking him to come inside.

“So, what do you think?”

Jay dropped the jeans he was holding onto the trail room seat, his eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated between you and your reflection in the mirror.

You turned a couple times to glance at yourself, extremely satisfied with the way they fit.

“You look great,” Jay smiled, his eyes closing slightly into half mooned crescents. “You definitely need to get these.”

You brushed your hair back, sighing from the relief of finally finding a new pair of jeans and not having to wear the same two pieces you had for years. “How much is it?” You asked aloud, turning back to let Jay check the tag.

You watched his face as the sound of cardboard brushing against his fingertips filled the small room. His expression was pretty unmoving, a simple jut of his lower lip followed by a nod.

“It’s good, totally fits the budget.”

You frowned, “Okay… What is it, though?”

“Uh…”

You twisted around to check the tag yourself before feeling your jaw drop. “What?”

Jay stepped forward, his hands enveloping yours, making you let go of the price tag as he turned you back around to face your guys’ reflection. “Don’t worry about it.”

You blinked at his nonchalance, “Jay, it’s not within our budget, it is our budget.”

“You know I can afford it,” he reasoned.

“That’s not the point!”

“Love-”

You look away from the mirror, facing your boyfriend and resting your hands against his chest. “Jay, this is your first proper pay check, this isn’t an internship anymore, you deserve this money.”

“I know that.” Jay leaned a little closer, “But I want to spend it on you.”

You pursed your lips. On the one hand, you really wanted these jeans, but agreeing to spend that much money on them — regardless of the fact that quality denim is an investment — it wasn’t fair to Jay and therefore, went against everything that you stood for.

“I’m not doing it,” you muttered, shaking your head. “I don’t need these. I want them, but I can — no, I will find a more affordable price.”

Jay opened his mouth to interject, only to be silence by your soft palm against his lips.

Your voice was just a whisper, “I don’t want you to convince me. You already give me so much, Jay. We can buy me some nice jeans another time, just enjoy the money you earned for yourself, please.”

Jay’s eyes darted back and forth between yours, you could feel the gentle smile of his lips against your palm before you removed it.

“Come here,” he murmured, pulling you closer and kissing you tenderly. “I’m not exactly happy with this,” his words came out muffled between your kisses, “But just know that I will be spoiling you soon.”

“How about you let me pick out some clothes for you and we’ll call it even?” You slid your arms around his neck.

Jay smirked. “That’s not even in any way.”

“You’ll get a hot new outfit.”

“Tempting.” He leaned forward, nudging your noses together.

a.n: second instalment of the ‘kiss me don’t say no’ drabble series !! trust cute bf jay to want to treat you when he should be the one getting special treatment :(

taglist: @oceanstide — @sheepsgf

2025 © yourislandgirl

[bigmpregnm]

Life Lessons - Part 2: The Anatomy of Fatherhood

[Story Collection] | [Prologue] [●] [Part 3🔴]

Max waited for Alan in the parking lot the following morning with a smile across his face and a milkshake in hand. The tall, muscular young man looked excited and hotter than the day before as Alan stepped out of his car. Max’s eyes sparkled enthusiastically, and his grin widened as Alan approached.

“Good morning, Professor Reynolds. You’re looking stunning today,” Max said, handing Alan the milkshake. “I thought you might like this. It’s a special blend made for big guys like us. It’ll keep you active throughout the day.”

Alan looked surprised but accepted the milkshake gratefully, unaware of the high-calorie, high-protein, and high-carb contents specifically designed for weight gain. He took a long sip, appreciating the creamy, rich flavor. Max only observed, remembering all the secret ingredients he had added to the milkshake and hoping they would make Alan’s big body much bigger.

“Thanks, Max. This is really good. A great way to start my day,” Alan said, kindly smiling at Max.

“It’s the least I can do after what you did for me yesterday.” Max smiled, his eyes lingering on Alan’s big ass in his tight pants.

Alan shivered at the mention of their intense sex session from the day before, his body still carrying the effects of Max’s massive dick buried deep inside him. “Please don’t mention that. It was fantastic, but I told you it was a one-time thing,” Alan said, thinking about his still-sore hole and bloated midsection.

“I know, but I can’t forget about it. Your ass felt so good,” Max said, stepping closer to Alan and making the older man shiver even more. “Let me carry your books to the classroom, Professor Reynolds,” he offered, grabbing Alan’s bag before he could protest.

As they walked to the classroom, Max couldn’t help but notice that Alan’s midsection still looked distended, and his shirt was tight around it. His smile grew wider, imagining the potential changes if Alan drank more milkshakes. Max could barely contain his arousal as he observed Alan’s body up and down, his dick stirring in his pants. Meanwhile, Alan drank the whole milkshake, struggling to ignore Max’s stares. He knew they couldn’t repeat the events from the day before, but the soreness in his hole only made him long for another taste of Max’s massive dick.

Alan started his lecture when they arrived at the classroom with the same enthusiasm as the day before. The students listened and asked several questions, making Alan smile. Then, one student raised his hand and asked about the homework Alan had left the day before, the one about male pregnancy. Alan chuckled and opened the space for the students to discuss the homework as they seemed eager to learn about the topic, even as a hypothetical lesson.

“Professor, I read something about a lawyer who supposedly got pregnant. He showed up at court with a huge belly, and at every court meeting, it was bigger. Then he missed a court meeting and showed up a few days later without the big belly and talking about babies. People thought he meant his wife had given birth, but some said he had the babies himself.”

Alan leaned against his desk thoughtfully, feeling the buttons of his shirt strain around his bloated middle. “Those are rumors. Unless you find something scientifically proven, this is only an interesting topic to discuss, not facts to study. If male pregnancy was possible, it would require significant biological and medical advancements, which we don’t have right now.”

Another student chimed in, “What about hormone treatments and uterus transplants? Could those make it possible?”

Alan grinned, appreciating their curiosity. “In theory, probably. Hormone treatments could prepare a man’s body for pregnancy, and a uterus transplant could provide the necessary environment for fetal development. However, I don’t think that the immune system of this man would accept the transplant and other physical changes required to support a pregnancy.”

After the conversation moved back to the regular anatomy lesson, Alan did his best to continue the lecture but found it difficult to concentrate with Max’s presence in the room. Max looked enormous among his classmates, and the sight only made Alan remember the young man’s massive dick rearranging his guts and the bull balls filling him up to the brim.

After the class ended, Max stayed behind, waiting until everyone else had left. He walked up to Alan and, with a playful smile, stole a quick kiss on his lips. Alan was left speechless, his heart racing as Max walked away. He couldn’t stop thinking about the massive muscle guy as something in his guts made him want to have more private anatomy lessons with him. Max had taught him that everything was possible. The massive dick had somehow fit into Alan’s guts, so everything was possible.

****

Over the next few weeks, Alan settled into a routine. He woke up and went to his job, and every morning, Max was at the parking lot with another delicious milkshake. Alan looked forward to those encounters despite the growing confusion about his feelings toward Max. A quick kiss after each class had become a part of their routine, a secret between them. As the days passed, Max added a soft caress to Alan’s belly to the quick kiss, which Alan loved.

Apart from his job and brief interactions with Max, Alan continued his regular life with his family. He was a dedicated husband and father who loved to spend quality time with his sons, James and Benjamin. Alan helped them with homework, played with them, and attended school events. He often surprised his wife with a romantic gift or a special dinner for the whole family. However, as the days passed, Alan felt somewhat tired most of the time, along with other changes.

As the weeks passed, Alan began to notice changes in his body. His midsection started to thicken even more, and his clothes grew tighter. It was initially subtle, but he knew he was getting thicker everywhere. His belt soon needed to be loosened a notch, and his shirts seemed to cling more than usual. He was somewhat concerned about gaining weight and feeling fatigued, but that didn’t stop him from drinking Max’s milkshake every morning and devouring everything his wife cooked for him in the evenings. The changes became more pronounced as the days passed, and everybody noticed.

Max was on cloud nine every time he saw Alan arrive in the morning. He was glad the milkshakes worked because Alan’s belly grew nicely while his whole body looked plumper. Max couldn’t stop looking at the Professor’s ample ass, which was growing fatter by the day and straining his pants. Their goodbye kiss after each class started getting more passionate as Max’s hand stayed on Alan’s belly for a little longer. Alan was concerned about growing a gut but loved it when Max touched his abdomen.

Alan’s once-chiseled abs were slowly being overshadowed by a layer of softness, giving his abdomen a rounder shape. His belly began to protrude, sticking a bit more every day, changing from a chiseled washboard to a soft pudge and, lately, taking on a firm bulge shape in a matter of weeks. His thighs and ass filled out, stretching the fabric of his pants. Even his arms and chest seemed to grow thicker, making Max lose his mind whenever he saw Alan’s newly developed body.

Alan couldn’t help but notice how his reflection had changed. His face looked slightly fuller, and his clothes strained against his growing frame everywhere. The weight gain was evident in his thicker waistline, but Alan couldn’t stop eating. His fatigue was still there, and he experienced some mild sickness a few times, but he was starving most of the time, so he ate more than ever. Max willingly upgraded the daily milkshake for a bigger one to see him getting thicker. Alan’s wife, Becca, cooked larger portions for her growing husband at home, loving his newly fuller frame.

Alan insisted he was going through bulking, but his wife insisted he looked fine with the off-season look. Alan finally got the courage to step on a scale on November 3rd, eight weeks after the first day of school—when Alan had the intimate encounter with Max—only to discover he had gained 20 pounds in eight weeks. Alan sighed at the numbers: 271.8 pounds, but he couldn’t help but smile.

As Alan playfully wrestled with his sons in the living room that evening, he was shirtless, enjoying the roughhousing and laughter. Alan lay on his back while the boys jumped and fought against his limbs. James tried to lift his dad’s leg, attempting to use a wrestling technique on him, but the leg was too heavy for the boy to move. Benjamin sat atop Alan’s pecs to fight the dad’s arms, but Alan playfully defeated them and pulled them into a bear hug.

“You still can’t defeat your old man,” Alan said, releasing the boys from the hug as they rested their heads on his body while catching their breaths.

“No fair, you’re sooooo big, Dad,” James said, smiling at his dad. “But one day, we’ll get bigger and stronger than you,” the boy added, and Alan smiled.

Then, Benjamin poked at Alan’s belly, his eyes wide with curiosity. “Dad, why is your belly getting so big?” he asked, looking at Alan while his hand rested on the round belly.

James giggled and also poked the firm roundness. “Yeah, Dad. It’s like a balloon, but harder,” he said, patting Alan’s round abdomen, which stuck out three or four inches from its former chiseled flatness.

Alan laughed, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Oh, you two. It’s just a little extra weight. It happens when you get older,” he said as he attempted to sit up with the boys in his arms, but he fell backward. He was used to doing that movement with the boys in his arms, his belly now representing an obstacle to his usual agility. “Okay, maybe a bit more than a little extra weight, but nothing to worry about. Your dad is still the strongest,” he added, lifting his arms to flex his biceps, which looked enormous with a layer of fat covering the muscles.

The boys continued to poke and prod, their innocent comments making Alan chuckle. But as the boys played with him, he couldn’t shake the concern about his recent weight gain. Alan had been eating too much for the last few weeks, but something inside him couldn’t help but think something else was happening. As Alan listened to his son’s jokes about his belly, he remembered the daily milkshake from Max, and he realized that everything had started on the day the massive guy had fucked him.

Later that night, as Alan lay in bed, his hands rested on his slightly rounded belly, feeling the firmness beneath his fingers. His mind raced with questions and possibilities, and his wife noticed something was bothering her man. She joined Alan’s hands to caress the growing belly, leaning in to kiss Alan’s lips. The big man smiled at her touch, feeling some of his concerns fade away.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Becca said, kissing Alan’s lips and caressing his belly. “You’re worried about getting fat, but... I think you look fantastic with this additional bulk on your big body. I love your big muscles, but this off-season look and this belly... it’s something else,” she added, lovingly rubbing Alan’s belly and making him feel better about his body.

****

The following morning, Alan was abruptly awakened by a sudden rush of nausea. He stumbled out of bed and barely made it to the bathroom before he started to throw up. The violent retching left him feeling weak and disoriented. He leaned against the cool tile wall, trying to gather his strength. After what felt like an eternity, Alan washed his face and returned to bed, but the dizziness lingered.

“Are you okay?” Becca asked as Alan lay in bed, sounding concerned.

Alan weakly smiled. “Just feeling a bit off. I might have caught a bug or probably ate too many portions of chicken parmesan last night.”

Becca stroked his hair gently and smiled at him. “That’s a possibility, but you’re a big man, and you need lots of food,” she added, caressing his belly. “Hold on, I’ll bring you a glass of water.”

Alan smiled as she left, closing his eyes to deal with the dizziness. Then, James and Benjamin entered the room and lay by Alan’s side, hugging him. The dad smiled when he felt his sons’ arms around his bloated middle, making him feel more comfortable.

“Dad, are you going to be okay?” James asked.

“You never get sick, Dad,” Benjamin added.

“I’ll be fine. I even feel better with you hugging me like this,” Alan said, and his sons hugged him tighter.

Becca brought him a glass of water and a cold compress for his forehead. Alan stayed in bed for a while, his family doing their best to make him comfortable. But the discomfort wouldn’t go away. Eventually, he decided that he needed to do something about it. Alan decided to go get some medicine for himself. Becca wasn’t sure if Alan could drive given his condition, but he insisted, saying he needed some fresh air.

Alan’s thoughts were a jumbled mess as he drove, and instead of heading to the pharmacy, he went to Max’s apartment. When he arrived, he knocked on the door, feeling nervous and somewhat dizzy. The door opened, revealing Max’s magnificent presence, fresh from the shower, wearing only a tiny towel around his waist. Water droplets still cling to his massive, muscular frame, glistening in the light. His broad chest and shoulders were slick with moisture, and his abs were like a sculpted landscape of muscle.

“Professor Reynolds? What are you doing here?” Max said, surprise evident in his voice, but his smile quickly returned as his dick stirred beneath his tiny towel.

Alan was momentarily speechless, his eyes roaming over Max’s magnificent physique as his dick hardened in his pants. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of desire and need, the sickness going away as his lust took over. Alan stepped forward without a word, pushing Max gently but firmly inside. Their lips met, passionately making out as the tiny towel fell to the ground, both men losing themselves in the heated moment. Max’s dick hardened against Alan’s plump body, and they couldn’t control themselves anymore.

Alan quickly took his clothes off, revealing his plump body in full glory to Max for the first time. Max’s dick throbbed hard when he saw how much thicker Alan’s body had become. He loved the round belly and softer pecs, but the Professor’s ample ass was driving Max crazy. They moved to Max’s bed, their hands exploring each other’s bodies. Alan felt a strange sense of comfort and belonging in Max’s arms despite the confusion in his mind. As he lay on his back and Max started kissing his round belly, Alan could only smile and long for more of Max’s attention.

Max continued kissing Alan’s thicker abdomen, giving the belly special attention but also playfully teasing the Professor’s nipples, which had been tender for the last few weeks. Then, Alan spread his legs and pulled Max into a passionate kiss. He immediately felt Max’s powerful arms lifting his legs and the enormous dick rubbing against his ass. Alan moaned in need and desperation for Max’s massive fuck tool.

Max smiled and pushed his hips forward, fitting half of his massive dick into Alan in a blink, making the Professor moan loud. Max pushed stronger and slid inch by inch into Alan’s tight hole, marveling at how stretchy it was. Once the 16 inches of dick were buried deep into Alan’s body, Max’s hips started bucking slowly, and both men moaned in pleasure. Max had loved their first time together, but since Alan’s body had grown so much, he was more turned on than ever. Meanwhile, Alan’s eyes rolled in his head, unable to talk or think clearly.

“You know,” Max said playfully, leaning in to feel Alan’s round belly against his chiseled abs. “You look like you’re pregnant, and I love it.”

Alan only responded with moans and groans of pleasure, his hands moving to his abdomen to rub it, feeling Max’s massive dick poking at his abdomen’s inner walls. Alan’s mind was blurry, but he rubbed his belly so passionately that it seemed like he believed he was indeed pregnant. This careful movement only turned Max on even more, making him pound even harder and faster and leaving Alan panting heavily. Max felt his balls getting incredibly full due to his arousal, and the idea of making Alan’s belly look rounder and bigger drove him crazy.

Max moaned loud, and his thrusts became erratic as his dick finally started shooting a tsunami of cum into Alan’s overstuffed midsection. The flow of cum was so strong that Alan could feel his skin getting tighter, struggling to accommodate the plump midsection. Alan’s own dick started shooting cum all over his belly, unable to contain the orgasm, as Max kept cumming buckets for a while longer. Both men were high on pleasure, and both wanted more, but they knew their situation was complicated.

Max slowly pulled his dick out of Alan and lay by his side in bed. Alan’s eyes were blank as he struggled to catch his breath, and his hands caressed his round midsection, which had grown an inch or two thicker due to Max’s cum. Both men were still panting, but Max wrapped his strong arms around Alan, their bodies perfectly fitting together. Alan rested his head on Max’s enormous chest, listening to the steady heartbeat while Max gently caressed his round belly.

Their breathing became steady again, and both enjoyed the loving embrace. Their naked bodies pressed tightly against each other, making both of them feel safe. They cuddled for what felt like an eternity, and Alan wanted to stay there forever. His sickness had gone away, and his hole still felt needy for Max’s massive dick.

Alan’s eyes wandered around the room as he lay in Max’s arms, and he noticed a camera on a tripod in the corner, surrounded by a ring light. “What’s that for?” he asked, nodding towards the camera setup.

Max blushed, a faint pink coloring his cheeks as he hugged Alan tighter. “Oh, that,” he said, chuckling. “I won’t lie to you. That’s for my OnlyFans page.”

Alan looked at Max’s blushing face and smiled at the big guy. “OnlyFans? Really? Isn’t that the page where people sell naked pictures and videos?” Alan said, playfully moving his hands over Max’s massive pecs.

Max shrugged with a shy smile on his face. “Yeah. That’s what I do. It’s how I pay for school, my apartment, food, and pretty much everything else,” he admitted. “People pay to see pictures and videos of me. I guess there’s a big market for guys with muscles like mine. And I know they would love to see my dick; many people have asked, but I have some limits.”

“And you earn a lot for that?” Alan’s playful interest grew. “Should I join even if I’m beyond the limits already?”

Max laughed and pulled Alan even tighter. “It pays really well. I mean, it’s not something I tell everyone, but it’s been a good way to make money and support myself,” he said, feeling Alan’s dick stirring between them. “You don’t need to join. You get the whole package for free.”

Alan smiled and kissed Max again, enjoying the embrace as they cuddled tighter. He closed his eyes, letting the comfort wash over him, ignoring the sickness and overall discomfort to focus on the strange, unexpected bond between them. Max’s hands never left Alan’s belly, making the Professor feel great about his growing body. He knew Becca liked it, and Max loved it, so everything would be great if his body kept getting even thicker.

However, as he drove back home a few hours later, his hand moving over his rounder abdomen, full of Max’s cum, Alan couldn’t stop thinking about his sickness and its relation to his weight gain. He decided to schedule an appointment with his doctor to discard anything serious. In the meantime, he preferred to focus on his family and the fantastic secret encounters with his massive, muscular student, Max.

...

[bananaactivity]

Personally, as someone who loves character design ( Like regular human character design is my forte but I can bust a monster or furry design out if I lock in) all the same hair is annoying when I'm trying to distinguish them like… you can distinguish Adam, Chase, Oliver, and Kaz in live-action cause they all have different heights, and ages and wear semi-different clothes. But when you draw them you realize… they all have the same flipping hairstyle at their most interesting points. And sometimes they wear the same kinda clothes and next thing you know it all feels so repetitive to draw.

Like wtf

Are we being dead ass rn wtf is this. ( ADAM THAT WIDOWS PEAK IS NOT SAVING YOUUU)

That coupled with the fact that they all wear extremely similar clothes and it's like in an unrealistic cartoon design class ts would be fucked. All of them have worn plaid shirts so it's not a Chase or Oli thing, all of them have worn Raglan tees so it's not a Kaz or Adam thing. Like their personalities are doing all the work and those are similar too. Funny stupid man and Smart bitchless man.

There are minute differences that a locked in fan could point out, but on a surface level, they're much too close. This is especially true for art and fanfics which already kinda fuck up the character's actual personalities for headcanons or misinterpretations or whatever but it's a stupid silly decade-old show, who gives a shit what the fans create. They literally destroyed three good shows over one measly boost in views. Now look at them the whole channel is basically gone nowadays.

I haven't done the same amount of work as I have for Kickin' It, but I'm working on it. The hair has already been fixed. I think.

Oli gets curls and a mullet, Kaz keeps his hair but make it more pointy, Adam gets a more swoopy slick thing and Chase gets a more exaggerated and messy pointy thing.

I don’t really have the same issues with Kai and Jack or Rudy and Ty from Kickin it cause my AU has them being mirrors of each other. Like Ty and Rudy are mirrors for each other and then as a whole they’re mirrors for the younger duo. it’s kinda the same thing as Adam/Chase and Douglas/ Donald, that whole breaking the cycle thing.

It works in my AU cause I can’t stand to write sad shit. I’m more of a goofy goober. Anyway enough yapping from me that was just my two cents

idk if this is an unpopular opinion but i miss their silly 2010’s swoopy hair :(

[0vergrowngraveyard]

I’m actually like so obsessed with your teen tails because this is the very first time ever that I’ve seen someone share my vision!!! Don’t get me wrong tall tails is great as well but AFFHFJFJVG TAILS WITH STUNTED GROWTH CAUSE OF LACK OF CARE OR HIS EXTRA TAIL LITERALLY KEEPS ME UP AT NIGHT WITH STORY IDEAS. I’ve had a version of him in my mind for YEARSS but seeing your design actually just checked all the mental boxes. This is peak character design, especially with the robotic limb.

I like to imagine that to make up for his small size he develops “chihuahua syndrome,” in which he goes absolutely feral if he feels even the slightest bit like he’s in danger or being threatened :)

aaaaa tyty 🩵

i think tails being taller than sonic is really funny but, as someone who is shorter than both of my step siblings and most of my younger friends, i do need to give sonic this win hagdhshshajj

i do think his growth was stunted a bit. i mean, from ages 1 or 2 to whatever age he got his workshop, he was homeless and even after he gets the workshop i doubt he eats 3 full meals a day. also the whole being alone during the 6 month war thing. that’s a lot of key growth moments where he’s underfed. (sorry sonic you’re doing your best shdhhshs) however, i can also see him just being a bit shorter, no growth stunting involved lol

and ye ye my boy has a robotic arm! i’ve talked about this before but my version of teenager tails was caught in an explosion that heavily damaged half of his body. his leg and tail on the same side are weaker (he can still use them, it’s just takes a lot more energy) and the ear on that side is partially deaf

i think the explosion started his downward spiral because, while he can still help in fights, he can’t help as much as he could when he was younger and that fucks him up. and thats not to mention how sonic actually benched him for a bit because he didn’t want tails getting hurt that badly ever again—he did go behind sonic’s back to help in fights so many times that sonic eventually gave up and unbenched him. teenagers amiright?— and that did a huge number on tails’s self esteem

but ye, my fucked up guy! i love him lots he need therapy 🩵 im so glad you like him

[the-fabled-void]

What’s your opinion on Lust Sans? How do you think the creator could have handled hypersexuality better? Because honestly I don’t think it was handled very well -as a hypersexual anon myself.

What’s your opinion on Lust Sans? How do you think the creator could have handled hypersexuality better? Because honestly I don’t think it was handled very well -as a hypersexual anon myself.

I can't really say much about hypersexuality as i have no experience with it, and it's been a while since I read the Underlust comic.

One thing I have to say, I don't think NSFWShamecave probably didn't intent to portray SPECIFICALLY hypersexuality? From my understanding at least it doesn't seem like it.

Despite the way monsters behave being similar to hypersexuality, I believe the creator was trying to portray something that they believed was fictional. (The lore reason being the fact that everyone's injected with an aphrodisiac.)

And that's where a lot of the issues come from.

I will have to say, it was a genuine attempt by someone to make something with serious lore out of an AU with origins that are hard to take seriously. I would blame it on age, but I'm just gonna go on a limb and say someone with the username NSFWShamecave was at least 18 back then.

Regardless, it's not a story that's easy to tell. Even with genuine intentions, their story- you can tell it wasn't made by someone who knows their stuff.

Additionally, it seems like a kind of AU where the creator thought 'designs first, lore after'.

Which isn't a bad thing on it's own! It's interesting to already have a point in the story that the characters are at and think "okay, how did they reach it". But the creator didn't execute it well.

There's also the 'love fixes everything' vibes I remember getting with Papyton with what happened to Mettaton.

The AU itself feels kinda puritan, with Frisk needing to show the monsters true love as if they've never had it before. It feels extremely reminiscent of the internet's culture at the time, especially the Undertale fandom. I remember being very active on Wattpad at the time, and I remember on there... It was treated jokingly, but we did call anything sexual 'sin' and shamed people for being into it (12 year olds like I was SHOULDN'T be into it, but still...)

Not to mention... Chara. Obviously the character who was the fandom's genocide scapegoat, who was seem as evil back then, is gonna be made weirdly lustful. Good thing they aged them up, I'm glad this creator didn't try to dive into child hypersexuality (while it does exist, someone with those views on sexuality would not have handled that very well, and they would have received more scrutiny), but giving them the soul trait of Lust? That was probably not the best way of explaining why everyone is horny.

In short:

The main issues are that the creator was portraying a real issue bad because they didn't know it was real, and that the creator wasn't all that experienced in writing stories (and designed most characters other than Mettaton and Frisk without a story for them in mind).

As for Lust Sans himself, I didn't really answer that question specifically very well, did I?

Firstly, he suffers from what most characters in the story do.

Additionally, as a Sans, I'm gonna have to think about him in the context of the multiverse.

His portrayal is what happens when an already not too well executed idea is brought towards a bunch of kids.

Of course there were older people in the fandom, but I say the majority of us were not the intended demographic for the AU.

And kids, especially in today's day and age, are notorious for wanting to seem mature and therefore portray stuff for adults, but at the end of the day, we weren't and we couldn't.

So Lust, in especially the early fandom's eyes, was reduced to "non-consensual flirt bordering on rapist".

-

I do have my own version of the AU, slightly altered. So far it's just lore from the AU itself instead of individual characters or story. I wasn't really planning on doing much with it, and I made it before voicing my own criticism, so it doesn't really address more than the Chara sexualization. Feel free to read it if you're curious though!

[diekleinesuesse]

Being best friends with Han Jisung:

Being best friends with Han Jisung would be like having a personal hype man, a chaotic troublemaker, and a surprisingly deep and caring confidant all in one. From the moment you become close, he’d make it his mission to bring as much joy and laughter into your life as possible whether through his over-the-top impressions, random freestyle raps about the most ridiculous things, or his habit of sending you the most unhinged memes at 3 AM.

The Chaos That Comes With Han Jisung

Han is a walking ball of energy, and being best friends with him means you’re constantly caught in his whirlwind of randomness. He’s the type to start randomly beatboxing while you’re just trying to eat lunch or to suddenly shout dramatic song lyrics in the middle of a quiet café just to see your reaction.

He has a special talent for keeping things interesting, whether it’s coming up with new inside jokes every five minutes, randomly challenging you to a dance battle in the middle of a store, or making up absurd scenarios just to see if you’ll play along.

“Okay, hear me out,” he’d say one day, completely serious. “What if we start a business selling designer socks but only for pigeons?”

“…Han, what???”

“Think about it. Pigeons have cold feet too.”

Moments like these would be a regular part of your friendship, where you’re left staring at him in disbelief while he bursts into laughter, proud of himself for making you question reality.

Late-Night Hangouts & Deep Talks

While Han is known for his high-energy personality, as his best friend, you’d also get to see his quieter, more introspective side. He’s an overthinker at heart, so some nights, you’d find yourselves lying on the floor of his dorm or your apartment, staring at the ceiling, talking about life, dreams, and fears.

“Do you ever feel like… even if you achieve your dreams, you still don’t feel like you’re enough?” he’d ask quietly, fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie.

And that’s when you’d remind him of how talented, hardworking, and incredible he is just like he does for you every time you doubt yourself. He’d appreciate that more than he’d ever admit, but you’d know by the way he softly smiles and says, “You always know what to say, huh? That’s why you’re my best friend.”

The Sunshine Twins/Triplets Energy

Because of STAY dubbing you, Felix, and Han the Sunshine Triplets, you’d constantly get dragged into their antics. Whether it’s sudden dance-offs in the practice room, Han and Felix dramatically fighting over who loves you more as a best friend, or the three of you squishing into a single seat just to annoy the other members, life would never be boring.

Han and Felix would also 100% have a habit of randomly clinging to you. If you’re sitting on the couch, expect one (or both) of them to just flop onto you, whining about how tired they are. Felix would nuzzle into your shoulder while Han dramatically sighs, “Ahhh, why is our bestie so comfy? I could sleep here forever.”

And if you ever had a bad day? Those two would be on a mission to make you smile. Whether it’s Felix baking something sweet for you or Han performing the most ridiculous song he just made up about how great you are, there’s no way you’d stay sad for long.

Embarrassing You in Public Is His Love Language

Han Jisung lives to make you laugh, and if it means embarrassing himself (or you) in public, he will gladly do so. If you’re walking in a store together and your favorite song starts playing? He will immediately drop whatever he’s doing and start singing at the top of his lungs, complete with dramatic dance moves.

“HAN, STOP PEOPLE ARE STARING,” you’d hiss, trying to drag him away.

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER MY AMAZING VOCALS!” he’d yell, twirling like a Disney princess.

And if you’re ordering food at a café, expect him to suddenly lean in and whisper something ridiculous right as you’re talking to the cashier, just to make you mess up your order.

You: “Hi, can I get a-”

Han: (whispering) “Tell them you want a McChickenny-Nuggetini.”

You: “…a what?”

Cashier: ???

Then he’d burst out laughing, completely proud of himself while you glare at him. But at the end of the day, his goal is always to make you smile, and he never fails.

The Best Hype Man Ever

If you’re ever feeling insecure, Han is the first one to hype you up. Even if you’re just wearing a basic hoodie and sweatpants, he’d gasp dramatically and be like, “OH?? WHO IS THIS SUPERMODEL? STOP, YOU’RE MAKING EVERYONE LOOK BAD.”

And if you’re a dancer, singer, or have any talent, he’d make sure everyone knows how amazing you are. The moment you show him something you’re working on, he’d immediately start clapping like a seal, eyes wide with excitement.

“WAIT, THAT WAS SO GOOD?? DO IT AGAIN NO, WAIT, I NEED TO RECORD THIS.”

And if you ever performed on stage or achieved something big, he’d be screaming in the audience louder than anyone.

“THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND, EVERYONE LOOK, THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND.”

Comforting You When You Need It

Han might be a chaotic gremlin most of the time, but he has the biggest heart. If you ever feel down, he’d be the first to notice. He wouldn’t push you to talk, but he’d quietly sit next to you, offering a snack or a warm hug until you’re ready.

And when you finally open up? He’d listen carefully, nodding along, offering advice if you wanted it or just letting you vent if that’s what you needed.

“You’re not alone, okay? No matter what, I’m always here,” he’d say, squeezing your hand. “We’re best friends. That means forever.”

Being Best Friends with Han Jisung Means…

Constant laughter and inside jokes

Late-night talks about life

Being included in Sunshine Triplets chaos

Him embarrassing you in public just to make you laugh

Having the most supportive and loving hype man ever

Knowing that no matter what, he’s always there for you

At the end of the day, being best friends with Han Jisung is like having a personal sun always bright, always warm, and always making life a little bit better just by being there.

[spark-hearts2]

BAM! Take these Caine drawings I have been saving up! Close ups under cut.

@galactic-knightmare @the-spam-specialist I think all of our Caine’s would be friends :)

Text: did chatGPT write this? I’ll kill you

3 fingers? (For human Caine design)

Blanket Caine lmao

[fleshmetal]

just watched the borderlands movie and the only good part was that krieg’s little harness thingo lowkey looked like a very skimpy little bra thing sometimes

he needs some back support with those jugs ofc

[hana-bobo-finch]

erm…..posting about an OC via a rushed shitpost was not on my 2025 bingo card!! 😂😂😂😂😂😂get it??? 😂😂😂because his name is bingo??(GETS SHOT)

these are all things he has done or has attempted to do so consider this the full intro post for that freak for now. he’s still too undercooked to fully introduce but damn I love him

[pallases]

IM FREEEEEE

[dykedvonte]

If Ulysses has a million haters, then I'm one of them. If Ulysses has one hater, then I'm THAT ONE. If Ulysses has no haters, that means I'm dead. If the world is with Ulysses than I’m against the world.

[akkivee]

while we’re gearing up for honobono lore, i just want to say that sometimes hypmic implies the existence of a character before they’re introduced in the series, like hanabi thru one of ramuda’s radio questions and hitoya thru a side character in the first fpmtr manga run

tsumabira from the grasshopper arc, who went off on her own to orchestrate a scheme manipulating tdd’s bonds so she could watch them suffer, stole some chuuoku tech and hired the tobari bros to make the chaos happen, was honobono’s early character tease lol