#because im siCK and just working on wips

[existentialfailure]

my goal this week/weekend is going to be to bomb every fanfic i like with comments/notes and im going to irritate some people by probably spamming their stuff and i've noticed people i guess hate that (dont know why, maybe im just an undiagnosed narc at heart coz i love it) but

i dont have insurance rn and withdrawal off multiple medications simultaneously is the worst sickness i have experienced since covid let me tell you, HAH (also yes ilu and miss u doc xoxoxo c u in september when im batshit insane again)

ive been in fandom spaces since 2000 as an infant with no business on the internet but taking advantage since i have elder siblings who had much business being on the internet being elder millennials/xers so they absolutely monitored me (no they didnt) and i used to be highly involved and then for some reason??

i stopped??

and i guess thats just parenthood and it worked in the opposite way for me where instead of not going out and eating xanax with my buddies i stopped reading fanfic and eating xanax with my role playing buddies five oceans away.

also insert toxic relationships or whatever somewhere sprinkled in between and or whatever. i'm rambling.

anyhoots.

i guess as i've gotten back into writing again, and as ive gotten into journaling (thank you other tumblr users who inspired me to write my mind down when my doctor couldn't <3) i realized im kind of floating in an abyss of my own turmoil and misery and all those other synonyms of it again without realizing it, and maybe it'll be nice to pretend to know people, and by extension it'll feel good to do some outreach and put a little sprinkle of affection in strangers boxes. because everyone can use a little love and kindness. it feels nice. and i'd like to feel nice, so by proxy.

something something, not sure where this is going.

just be nice to people i guess. you don't have to be, but you should. because it'd be nice if people were nice to you, wouldn't it?

idk. i'd like my meds back. i can't believe i lived like this for 30+ years.

[mushed-kid]

wip

[professionallydeadinside]

sometimes I have nothing to say to you but just have this strong urge to send you an ask & this is one of those times. Hi! Hope you're having a good day <3 same goes for Kirk, Silas, Yati and whoever hangs around this blog, I hope you all are having a lovely day today. Bye bye now :)

HIIIII THIS IS GREAT TIMED BECAUSE IM NOT HAVING A GREAT DAY BUT I LOVE GETTING ASKS SO THANK YOU WKAJHGFDSDFGHJJH :DD

[kaffeebaby]

What kinda stuff are you writing about!!

Most of the stuff I'm writing right now are better call saul fanfics. I've always been more of a fanfic writer as opposed to making original characters and worlds.

A lot of my fanfic ideas are the "What if this happened instead?" genre. Like what if Gus rehired Gale and made him work with both Walt and Jesse? That would change a lot of stuff, and I had explored some ideas months ago, but I kinda stopped thinking about it as much as other ideas that were more interesting to me started crowding my mind. I don't want this post to get too long but also >:3c

Lately, I've been trying to come up with ideas for a fic where Chuck forgets to cancel his appointment when he's having his last breakdown, so he misses his appointment and his therapist shows up at his house concerned. And she ends up getting him to a hospital where he can be treated before he has the chance to do anything worse than tear his house apart. That event would completely change everything else that happens in the show, and would even impact the stuff that happens in BrBa, so it's been a lot to think about. I basically have to figure out a way for Chuck's life to become livable for him, plus I have to figure out how Saul can still happen if Chuck is still there and Kim doesn't divorce him due to Howard and Lalo never happening, and. Many other things.

But I have a rough outline of different things that need to happen, and I'm the type of person that daydreams or fantasizes a lot throughout the day, especially at night, so it's nice to have a pet project that has some interesting challenges. I get to justify thinking about blorbos all day because it goes back to something I want to write about.

The one wip I mentioned in my tags was a Chuck and Howard smut that I was writing during January this year. I planned to have it finished and posted on Valentine's Day, but I got the stomach flu like two weeks before that which completely ruined any ability to write people having sex. I tried to keep writing after I wasn't sick anymore, but it was kinda done for at that point, since the deadline was actually really motivating me. I've thought about trying to write more on it again, and I've even considered posting it in its half finished state with an author's note that it's not done. There are very few Chuck and Howard fics, and I only ship them recreationally, so at first I wasn't so upset and not finishing and posting the work. But the more time drags on, the more I feel like there are people who would actually like to read my rarepair fanfic, even if I posted it unfinished with a warning and the possibility I'd finish it later. It works where it is right now, but it's very much not as long as I wanted it to be and there's a lot more stuff I wanted to add that I just don't feel the motivation for at this point. But also that doesn't mean I should keep it locked up forever.

I have some other fic ideas that I've been floating around, but my brain has been consumed by my Chuck Lives AU for a while and it's kinda hard to focus on other stuff. I do have a google doc of all my fic ideas though, and I visit it every now and then when I'm in the mood to write or want to refresh what all of my ideas are. I've been a lot better lately at actually writing down ideas as they come to me so that I don't forget them later.

[storm-cells]

is it a crime to have a vent project going on at the same time as a main project?

In Memory of Us is still happening, I have other posts planned about it, I just have something else I’m playing around with to work through some feelings

it’s probably going to center around mental health and how to heal/work through symptoms and disorders, probably a lot of projecting, and a little romance, but I don’t know if anyone would be interested in hearing about that at the same time as IMOU

[fanaticsnail]

Oh snail, i know you already have a long list of WIPs (i can't wait to read them) and your Inbox is probably already full with requests, so i understand if its not in the cards right now.

I was just wondering what the kid-pirates would do, or how they would react if ther precious doc-reader is the one that was injured badly or was very sick. Especialy how Killer would react after that romantic tention between them (i need more of that 😩). I don't have a particular song in mind, because the seires already has a vibe to it, hope thats okay.

I wish you a wonderful day/night/evening! 💕Sooo looking forward to your next work, whatever it may be 🐢

I love you for this prompt, @daydreamer-in-training. Thank you!

Sit your ass down, would ya, Doc?

Hey Doc Masterlist here

Word Count: 2,000+

Synopsis: You've taken care of your crew and nursed them back to health from their flus... but now it's your turn. The Kid-Pirates do their best to take care of the worlds worst patient, their doctor: you.

Themes: platonic!kid-pirates, eustass kid x gn!reader, swearing, illness, comforting, taking medication, kid is a bit of a dom, doc is a bit of a bra, you're the kid-pirate doctor: the crew calls you 'doc'.

Notes: I am currently struggling with the flu myself, and this was simply too cute to not write about. Thank you for your ask, it's been fun to write about!

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil

“Hey, Doc? Did we need any more petroleum jelly from the-...?” the fire breather called beside you, hating when you turned to face him, “...-Shit, Doc. You look like absolute balls today.” 

Rolling your swollen, glassy and red eyes at him, you draw another tissue from your counter and sneeze into it. The silky tissue felt like sandpaper over your leaky nose, the skin splitting surrounding your nostrils and leaving small stains of red on the pale paper.

“Always so full of compliments and kindness, Heat,” you huff out, your voice sounding hoarse and cracking along with every word. Heat cringed, recoiling away from you with eyes narrowed in sympathy. You attempt to breathe through your blocked nose, no air passing through the dual nostrils.

Treating the crew for the past two weeks, and nursing them to health in recovering from the flu, had finally caught up with you. You felt both cold and hot at the same time, your skin both dry and sticky with sweat. Mind swelling and cracking behind the tense throbbing throughout your brain caused a dull ache ringing in your ears and fogging your mind.

“I-... I’m just saying, Doc,” he reiterated in defense of himself, “You don’t look too good. Maybe you ought to sit out from the in-land trip to restock. Stay home on the Victoria Punk?” Heat suggested with a soft smile and a subtle shrug.

“What?” you grunted out a cough, “And leave you lot to restock my clinic for me? Not fucking like-...” coughing into another tissue, your glassy eyes pricked at the corners and began to spill out and down your cheeks, “...-likely.” 

Heat’s smile fled from his face, his lip downturning in sympathy. He shook his head and extended his hand out to you, gesturing you to follow him out through the door towards the deck. You attempt to sniff back another intake of air to reopen your nose to no avail. Following on, you trudge somberly towards the top deck where the crew were all waiting to step foot onto the pier. 

Without drawing attention to yourself, your eyes squinted lazily to compensate for the pain the sun caused your mind. With each achy step, you attempted to bite back the ache your body was going through. Barely aware of your surroundings, you gesture in the medicinal remedy booths at town square for herbs, ointments and aromatic fragrances. 

As you reached into your pocket to pull out your small folder of Berry, a large right forearm reached over your shoulder and paid the vendor before you could. Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at the scowling grimace of your captain, Eustass Kid, baring his rage down at you. Attempting to roll your eyes at him again, you clenched them tightly shut instead as the world became far too bright to process.

“Captain,” you acknowledge him with a clumsy nod, fighting the urge to not to fall over with the vertigo overcoming you. He growled at you immediately, gesturing to Wire beside him to gather the supplies and walk back to the ship. 

“You’re a real fuckin’ idiot, aren’t ya, Doc?” he spat, scolding you with his heavy growl. You laughed at him, shaking your swirling head and beginning to walk beside him. Your overexertion and sleep deprivation caught up with you as you tripped over an uneven divot in the rocky path.

“I'm not into degradation, Cap,” you respond in a half-joking hum, your eyes feeling heavy and weighted, “Not my kink. Might be yours, though, considering the amount of times I yell at you to hold you accountable.” That comment earnt you another low growl from your captain, his face turning a few shades darker than his hair. 

He turned to face you at his side, his lips curling as if to speak. As he opened his lips, he was lost for words as you fell into him, bracing yourself against him to steady your walk. He caught you in his right arm, bringing his face down towards you and brows knitting with concern. Turning towards Wire, he cocked his chin to the side to usher him on towards the ship. 

With no further warning, Kid dipped at the knees and hoisted you up into his chest beneath your thighs. He curled his bicep and hooked your head beneath his chin and cradled you firmly into him. Under usual circumstances, you would’ve fought this tooth and nail.

You do not enjoy being manhandled by the crew, especially by your captain. While you enjoy the embrace once in a while with your more sensitive crewmates, particularly Bubblegum, the Captain has only ever been this close to you when he’s sparring with you.

“C’mon Doc, I'll get you seen to,” he grunted down at your position curled into his chest, “I’ve-... And the-...” his words trailed off, the fever raising your temperature higher and prompting you to seek out sleep against his pectoral. 

Voices and words fade in and out of your ears, a slow drawl and murmurs of several of your crewmates swelling around your assumed resting spot for the day. The room wasn’t physically moving, even though your vertigo suggested it was. 

“When was the last time Doc’s had a day off?” you recognised the feminine voice of Quincy in the room beside you. Several grunts and incessant babbling reverberated around the room, prompting you to flutter your eyelashes open and push through the pain. 

“Doc!” you cringed as a body almost flew into your bed, sitting on the plush sheets beside you, “You’re awake! I’m so happy to see you’re up!” You wince, slowly waving Bubblegum away, swatting at his zig-zagged head.

“Off, off,” you shooed him, wincing as you shrugged your duvet off your thighs and swung your legs over the side of the bed. As you began to wobble to your feet, the booming voice of your captain called over the chatter of the room,

“Sit your ass down, would ya, Doc?” he growled, striding over in intentional steps and giving you a shove from his right hand in the middle of your chest, “The medics here said you need a week in bed to rest. Sit down.” You growled at him, doing your best to gather the strength to growl at him. 

“If I’ve been prescribed ‘rest’,” you began, gesturing to the crewmates surrounding your current room, “Why the fuck are you all here?” Several sheepish mutters surround the room, a few members pinching the scruffs of their necks, a few more wringing their hands in front of their waists. 

Your captain clapped his hand on your shoulder, pushing you to lay back down and wrangling you into your bedsheets. Refusing to go down without a fight this time, you wriggled in his grip and fought both the fever and the strong arm of your captain. 

“For fucks sake, Doc!” Kid yelled at you, pushing and shoving you down into the very comfortable and unfamiliar bed in front of the crew. “Just lay down and rest, damn it! Go back to sleep.” You wriggled harder. 

“No!” you yelled defiantly, kicking off the duvet and fighting each and every time your captain attempted to shove you into your bed. Kid looked around to the crew, angled his chin sharply to wordlessly order them to leave the room. As they left, Kid turned back towards you and crawled up onto the bed. 

“You are more of a pain in the ass than that fucking bullet to the buttcheek,” he growled, climbing over you and baring down his weight onto your smaller frame. Straddling your thighs, he placed his knees on your open palms and successfully pinned you beneath him. He pressed his forearm over your chest and gave you a firm shove to force you to lay down. You had no choice but to thump your head back into the plush pillow behind your head. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you clench your jaw and growl behind your lips. The rumble in your throat hurt the raw swell in your jugular, but you pushed past it to air your frustrations at him regardless. The chuckle from your captain above you only served to propel your anger to rise higher. 

“Yeah, yeah. Growl and groan all you want,” he scoffed at you, pinning your chest with his bicep while reaching his hand between you and gathering the blankets in his fist. Slowly raising it up, he continued his place straddling your thighs until he thought you would no longer fight him. 

“Why are you doing this, Captain?” you snarl at him, finally opening your eyes to gaze up into his eyes. He smirked at you in response, pressing his palm to your forehead and clicking his tongue at the temperature. 

“Because,” he leaned over to the bedside, taking two small spherical tablets into his hand, “We love you, Doc.” He leaned back over you, gesturing with his chin for you to part your lips. You take a moment to snarl at him before complying, parting your lips and allowing him to place the bitter tablets on your tongue. 

He leaned back over to the bedside, finding a glass of water and bringing it down to your lips. Tilting the glass slowly as it brushed with your bottom lip, he carefully fed you a sip of water to take the pills with. Placing the glass back over on the table, he drew his attention to the small amount of water seeping from the corner of your lip.

“Now, be a good Doctor and get loved on, idiot,” he softly huffed, his voice low and husky as he leaned forward. He used the pad of his thumb to gently collect the spill of water from the corner of your lips. Your eyes never ceased its glare up at him. He grinned tauntingly down at you, arching his brow and ensuring you swallowed the tablets. 

“Get off, Captain,” you growled at him, bucking your hips up in an attempt to remove him from your body. He cackled his rumbled laugh down at you in response, shaking his head. 

“You gonna get up again if I do?” he asked, leaning down and caressing your cheek in a gentle stroke. His eyes held nothing but mischievous mockery, but his hand felt like it was gently coaxing you to comply with what he asked. 

“No, I’ll behave,” you snarled at him. His laugh was genuine this time, low and gentle. Slowly backing off you, he slid off your body before adjusting the sheets and smoothing them over. 

“Good,” he nodded, beginning to leave the room by the door off to the side of the room. Halting at the door, he fought with himself for a moment before looking at you over his shoulder and uttering, “I’ll-… I’ll get Kil to check on you in a few hours. Get some rest, okay?”

What he said next was something you weren’t expecting to come from his lips. In all the time you served with him, he only ever called you ‘Doc’, or ‘Doctor.’ You were your title, and you appreciated that about the crew. You were Doc, only ever Doc. But what he said changed all that.

After he uttered the word “okay,” it was immediately followed by your name. Waiting a few moments, you responded in a cadence just above a whisper. 

“I’ll be right where you left me, Kid,” you replied with a soft smile back at him. He closed his eyes, offering you a reflection of your smile in return before it grew back into its usual mischievous face. 

“Good,” he again offered you, scrunching his nose up at you and looking up through his red eyelashes at you, “Otherwise I would’ve gotten your doting daddy to come coddle his whiny baby.” Your eyes went wide, your jaw clenching and your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. 

Eustass Kid just laughed in response, exiting the room and giving you both the time and space you needed to recover. Your recovery was not only the flu, but of the second hand embarrassment that Killer must’ve relayed to Kid what he’d said to you in the consultation room. Either that, or you left the shell of your Den-Den accidentally activated from when you spoke with your captain earlier in the day.

Either way, you pouted as you did as you were told and huffed back into your bed and went to sleep: the paracetamol activating and stilling your swelling head and masking the undertones of pain in your body.

[minhosimthings]

Preview: Sweet as Cherry Wine

In which the cold librarian's heart gets melted by his best friend's sister

Synopsis: Kim Seungmin was the assistant librarian at your uni's library and the love of your life. Oh and also your brother's best friend.

Pairings: Seungmin × fem!reader, includes rest of skz, Winter (aespa)

Warnings: brother's best friend trope, a play on Hades and Persephone, secret relationship, flufff, seungmin is a menace, SMUT MINORS DNI, p in v sex, oral (m receiving), verryyy little choking, slightly sub minnie?, just a lot of me simping after his fingies, semi public sex (in the library)

A/N: whadup mona fam. Surprised im alive? yeah me too honestly lol. anyway im very sick rn BUT i wanted to complete this because this shit has been stuck in my wips since september 2023 and anyway it's my Minnie phase. Please look forward to the full fic!!!

STATUS: POSTED

FULL FIC

“And how she let the pomegranate juice,

Drip from her smiling lips,

Even Hades trembled under sweet Persephone’s gaze.”

The tantalising smell of old leather and paper hugged your nostrils as soon as you crossed the threshold of the outdoors into the library. The entire room had the faint smell of sandalwood wafting through it as well, which your lungs appreciated as you breathed the air in.

Having spent only six months in your university as a freshman, you had never dared to step foot into the university’s famed collection of books more than five times. You were far too intimidated by it. That, and also the fact that you had a tremendous amount of work hanging over your head. And you certainly did not want to disappoint your parents, who worked day and night in ensuring that you had a proper education.

“Y/Nnie come on!” Your friend, Jeongin, grabbed your hand and dragged you further into the grand building. Jeongin was the first friend you had made in college, having argued furiously with him in your sociology class on the modern feminist forms of thought. Deciding that he was smart enough to never keep you bored, you promptly shook hands with him. He must have thought so too, because the very next day, he introduced you to his band of friends, with whom he had grown up since childhood.

And now, you could see one of those friends waving to the both of you from a very large table. It was Lee Minho–dance prodigy, archeology student in his third year, frequent arson enthusiast and a cat dad. That was what you had gotten from him, six months into your friendship

“Hyung!” Jeongin practically leapt on the stunningly beautiful man as soon as he came near him, “I’ve missed you so much!”

Minho made a face of disgust, but you could see the faint smile threatening to spill out as he hugged Jeongin back.

“Let go of me before I suffocate you, brat.” Minho said, giving you a smile as Jeongin reluctantly pulled back, “Alright, Y/N?”

“Good as always.” You responded with a grin. “Oh, congratulations on your win at the Dance Masters by the way!” Minho tilted his head at you as a ‘thank you’, with his ears turning furiously red, and his smile widening.

“And what about me?” A smooth voice made you jump as the ever-present smile of Hwang Hyunjin appeared before your eyes.

“Give me a warning before you pop out of nowhere!” You laughed, being engulfed into a tight hug by Hyunjin, “And congratulations to you, as well.”

“Why thank you.” Hyunjin did a dramatic sort of curtsy after unleashing you from his arms, “Hyung, have you seen Lix anywhere? He forgot his keychain with me.”

“He’s still stuck in class.” Minho muttered, raising his arms up abruptly and stretching with a very loud sigh, “My bones are so stiff, I swear to God.”

“Could you keep it down, old man?”

Perhaps the most annoying voice in the entire campus rang in your ears as you spun on your heel to see the bane of your existence. The world’s most insidious bastard faced you, in the form of a 5 '10, history-majoring, glasses-wearing, probably drinks pomegranate juice in the morning sophomore.

Kim Seungmin.

The universe couldn't have made a more negative person.

And a more perfect secret boyfriend too.

Taglist: @vixensss @miyeonna @15092000volcano @berntbang @cookiesandcreammy @babrieeee

[delimeful]

Really? You don’t find passive aggressive comments, such as your tags, do be impolite?

And how, exactly, is an ask button (which YOU enabled) that is commonly known to be used for requesting stories on Tumblr from writing pages impolite? Are you new to writing Tumblr? What do you think a majority of writers on Tumblr use that ask button for?

I’ve been a follower for a while but I’m pretty dissapointed tbh.

Anonymous asked: I noticed a reply from @/gstash So let me address that as well. No, of course I don’t expect everything immediately and for free, and I initially requested this story over a year ago. I also spent over $50 being subscribed to Lime’s Patreon specifically for this story, but I had to stop due to low finances. I was just trying to check on when it may be up soon, but I felt the response was rather rude.

(the added slash is mine, i didn't want to inadvertently @ anyone else in this debacle lol)

this is gonna be my final word on the matter because im sick of getting home from work to asks like these. anything else is gonna be deleted. feel free to go ahead and use your actual blog to reply instead of anon if you still feel that strongly about it.

i dont think my tags weren't passive aggressive they were just plain statements. no, i don't think it's impolite to express a boundary irt people asking me for updates. your indignation about this reflects on you, not me.

to clarify, badgering me for updates (verbatim: "Could you please please please post chapter 7") isn't impolite, just irritating. it was the decision to send another ask chiding me for my response that was impolite. kind of a dick move, as most involved in the tumblr writing community know. i genuinely feel sorry for the writers you follow if you genuinely only see their ask boxes as an opportunity to pester them.

i'm disappointed too, anon. i hoped that maybe keeping calm and sincerely explaining myself would be enough to prompt you to respond with empathy in kind, but instead you doubled down.

it seems like there's been a misunderstanding in regards to my patreon; there is no tier that ensures a specific chapter of a fic is updated within a specific time frame. that would be a commission, which is explicitly listed as a reward for my $30 tier, because those take a lot more time + energy for me.

my $12 patreon tier offers early access to my writing, and the ability to request future chapters be moved up on my to-do list, through polls + priority continuation requests. i can't guarantee any specific chapter update in a month, and i'll explain why.

currently, i have over 50 total WIP fics being worked on. each month, i get around 25 chapter update requests. even assuming that each chapter is 2k, my usual minimum chapter length, i would have to write 50,000 words every single month. if i had the capability for that kind of regular output, i would be churning out books like stephen king instead of constantly struggling for my usual monthly 10-15k like a chump lol.

in essence, don't subscribe to my patreon for a specific story unless you know the next chapter for it is already up there. which it is, because i eventually got to your request. and it'll eventually be up on the blog for free. and during the months you spent subscribed to my patreon, you received at minimum tens of thousands of words of content.

finally, an earnest request: please stop acting like twelve dollars is an exorbitant fee when i'm literally making pennies per word written. like, i could have worked a single 8 hour shift at mcdonalds in texas for minimum wage instead and i would have ended up with $8 more than you paid me for four months of many hours of dedicated work.

(not even a joke: 7.25 x 8 = 58.)

in conclusion, i am a human person with feelings, just like every other writer on this site. please take a moment to remember that when sending asks in the future

[edentimm]

Im sick and not working today, but i have animator brain rot & i still wanna talk animation. So lemme share some snippets of process for this rough animation

First thing, i do scribble pass. Everything in this post is animated in the rough animator ipad app!

The scribble pass is pure gesture, not stressing about mass or model or any of the fundamentals yet. Focusing solely on the idea and rough timing(and also what i find fun to draw, like expressions and smears)

(Like this smear haha)

Next i did the kick! I animated a loop of a single kick, but it felt a little boring.

To add some spice, i decided to keep it to 3 distinct kicks, & took the impact key and skewed it into 3 different positions. Then i skew adjusted the extreme pullback key to fix its arcs. And then from there it was just skewing the inbetweens to keep the anim smooth.

From here i took a run at the upper body. But i didn't like my first pass (you can see it faintly under the cylinder).

It was lacking depth, it felt boring and flat. I was having a hard time imagining the motion i wanted, so i simplified it down to a cylinder, which was much eaier (and faster) to wrap my head around. I wrote notes on the side, because i was working on this in short increments, and didn't want to forget when I'd pick it up again, hours later.

From there, i plot out my keys, and track my arcs.

I picked the elbow points as theyre the outer most points so they move the most, and are the easiest to make a big circle arc with. But i also keep in mind my arcs on the head and features as im flipping.

And then I'm sorely lacking the WIPs from then to the end, but this is what i ended up with:

I add a big antic before the smear, a small overshoot when the character hits the screen. Keeping them static except for the eyes and arm, and then another antic down.

I haven't fully finished the loop, its missing frames to get the character back in their seat. I'll eventually take it into toonboom to clean up and to fully finish the loop.

Hope this was at least an interesting read! I shared it on twitter a while back, and a few folks mentioned how nice it was to see the "ugly" side, the thinking sode, instead of beautiful polished work haha.

[1pcii]

ok so i cant work on my wip rn because... in bed so im gonna wax poetic about it instead.

ive always been kinda confused with where alabasta is supposed to be set, in a way its kinda like disneys aladdin in that is just sorta mixes togeather a bunch of swana/se cultures/imagery to create a vauge idea of a 'desert country'. but considering Nefertari is an egyptian name (Nefertari Meritmut being the main example, an egyptian queen and first wife of Ramesses). im going to personally go with that idea.

with that out the way the main thing i wanna talk about... mehndi! (or henna). i personally think it would be so much cooler if the 'X' code was done in it. because the whole resolution to it is that while the X may fade, their friendship dosnt. Mehndi is an art that works of this principal, similar to rangoli. bridal henna for example is super intiquite and significant for the bride(/groom if ur progressive like that) on the mehndi celebration and shadi itself, and yet it fades away. But the specialness of the occcasion doesnt.

theres also the fact that it takes wayy longer to fade, so the drawn out process of that would be more impactful. ironicaly enough, for nami/sanji the most as they wash more often (namivivi angsttt). luffy and zoro being last.

because of all this im really obsessed with the idea of mehdi being a namivivi love languge. its such a wonderful artform to share with another person and in a romantic context tthe artistry and body worship aspects you could add are just. soo good.

also they look sick af in it

[sallymew4]

hi guys

(forever) wips below are: scene redraw (that i actually started on way before posting mobsai here. crazy !), and teru in an outfit i saw at the mall once (denim dress. dress made of NOTHING but denim. it caught me off-guard but i think i was just being too harsh <3 he was going to wear those galaxy leggings all middle schoolers wear with it as well)

originally this post was just gonna be me posting pretty old wips that i never finished cuz ive been sick (i actually feel way better now tho) and lazy but then i started perusing some more of my older mobsai doodles and unfinished arts and decided to post those alongside the ones above :) i just think its fun to see how my art has developed grown and changed over a period of time, especially with the designs of these characters

if ur interested in lookin at suma those vv

thunder claps welcome

reminder and warning that a lot of these were me still kind of figuring out how to draw them so they will NOT be beautiful picasso

i think this was the first digital mob i ever drew..... he was born august of last year..wow

i was incredibly weak for father reigen if you couldn't tell [sarcasm]

i also didnt know how his suit worked. lol

soryr i was mean 2o u serizwaw sir. anwyays

various ritus (ft teru) vv i made him very hateful because i thought it was funny

v v supa unfinished (obviously) pre-mob teru stuff, just hanging out by roof railing

and then there was a looot of what might be my favorite genre of these, which were just goofy little scribbles

that last one i made in the middle of watching the last episode. i promptly teared up in the bathroom after finishing it

anyways thats pretty much it, for digital anyways :) i like looking back on art, cuz then im like "oh wow, improvement IS real" (i always forget). ill try drawin some moar stuff 4or yalls, i already gots sumthn in the works. oka bye thank you for looking !!11!

[looptroupe]

HI GORGEOUS!!!!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL US ABOUT YOUR WIPS AND AUS IM REALLY INTERESTED 🙏🙏🙏

Foams at the mouth

I’m in the middle of writing up a whole HC post for someone asking about a highschool AU but I’m gonna take this opportunity to sidetrack the conversation towards something I’d love to genuinely see from the series… a HEAVY (film) noir lean. Think: Bogart, Framed, Gilda, Vertigo… probably pushing the era back 40’s, 50’s way (Maybe even some 30’s lean in there, if I could get away with it) instead of the general 60’s vibe Lupin has going for it.

I think there’s a TON of potential there. I mean, I’m aware something like this was pitched (and never picked up, sigh…) so there IS sentiment there, and the idea has been thought about, but instead of TWCFM’s ‘serious Lupin’ I’d love to see a true noir ‘serious Lupin’. I think you can put these characters into a serious setting without making them straight up evil, and I’ll be honest, I think it would be way more appealing than the stuff they’ve been releasing lately (besides Zero. I have to admit that I loved Zero).

I’d want the gang to actually feel like criminals, though. Cutting shady deals in illegal bars, Lupin running his mouth to big players about whatever new heist he has up his sleeve. I’d take them back to being Miyazaki-esque ‘living paycheck-to-paycheck’ rather than ‘insta-rich Lupin funding his hedonistic spirit’ because I think that would work better in this universe: Lupin is constantly getting them in hot shit with the big leagues because he can’t keep his mouth shut. Jigen has shot ten guys this week who have come knocking at their hideout’s door looking for trouble. Goemon’s sick of digging graves and is antsy to finally be who he dreams of being. Fujiko’s got her eyes on a bigger prize, like always.

Zenigata’s an underpaid beat-cop-turned-inspector who has been trying to climb the ranks for a long while. He’s ambitious, but a little too soft for his own good: he’s hopeful in a way that most of the guys in his squad aren’t, and that makes him the perfect candidate for when the commissioner has to shill a shitty 9-5 case on an unsuspecting worker. A file lands on his desk, and he flips through it with this eager fire, like he’s just been asked to take on the world, and Lupin and his gang smile up at him from the pages.

Lupin is a crook, he learns. Part-time petty thief, full-time smooth-talker: a man with a legacy to live up to and not a whole lot to show for it besides a reputation as a lady-killer and a particularly long unpaid tab at the seediest bar in town. His sticky fingers have landed him in more trouble than they’ve gotten him out of, and recent reports say that he’s managed to get under the skin of the most notorious once-criminal-now-film-director in town… the very criminal that underhandedly paid Zenigata’s boss to start an official investigation in the first place.

Jigen is a gun-for-hire. Babysitter, bodyguard, hitman… whatever you need, he’ll do, however begrudgingly. He’s not a guy you mess with: and his reputation is actually pretty good in criminal circles. He’s well-respected and well-liked. Or, he was, until the monkey-faced man at the bar implicated him in a crime he didn’t commit. Now, he’s babysitting without pay, and he’s starting to get a little sick of having to put bullets into the faces of old friends who decide his bounty is worth more than his loyalty. Figures.

Goemon’s a man slightly-less-out-of-time. A famous Japanese-American film star, he’s known world-over for starring in Samurai flicks alongside his leading lady, Fujiko Mine. The thing is, Goemon is classically trained in swordslinging, and when Lupin offers him an opportunity to be the very person he’s been portraying on screen, he’s more than happy to throw his reputation away. He never cared much for fame, anyway. There’s just this one little hitch: he’s enamoured with the sword he last used on set, and he won’t take no for an answer when he asks Lupin to retrieve it for him.

Fujiko has her eyes on a prize a little more exciting than Zantetsuken: the film empire she’s helped build herself. The tabloids can’t get enough of her, and she knows that a marriage to the most famous director the world has ever seen might just secure her a place in history. The thing is, the man she’s trying her best to seduce has stopped paying her attention since his beloved priceless-antique-turned-prop-sword went missing, and she’s determined to get it back for him. Because what would make him fall quicker? Ah, there’s just one catch: Lupin is kind of charming, and the life he’s living is… exciting. Tempting. Fujiko likes playing with fire, but she’s starting to get a little too close to this one particular flame. The heat has her cheeks burning… Or maybe that’s Goemon’s doing.

They’re a strange little bunch, the Lupin Gang. But man, do people have a habit of underestimating them. Zenigata included. Because what he thinks to be a simple case of theft soon turns into something more sinister as the layers of movie-magic veneer begin to peel away. Maybe Lupin was onto something, targeting this guy, and maybe this hotshot director isn’t quite as reformed as he says he is.

He went to court recently, after all. Say, how much did he pay the judge to overturn that guilty verdict? Zenigata would like that sum as a pay rise once this has all blown over. That, and some fresh smokes.

((Mmm someone should hop on board and help me develop this I think. Could be a fun little exercise on the side… if it’s up anyone’s alley >:) ))

[ghostpajamas]

DUUUUUUUUUUDE your alcohol marker works r SO sick i saw that sequence of process pics u had and my mind was just Blown . can you elaborate more on ur process ?!?!? /nf

hello ! thank you for your kind words. i apologize for taking a while to answer this. the process of coloring the drawing i did as an example was rocky, and ive been busy with school.

i'll preface this by saying that i have a few posts with process pictures on twitter (i treat it as a wip dump when i remember to post). heres one of the few where the pics are all together, but my media tab has a fair amount scattered around.

this is going to be long, so i'm putting the 'read more' here.

step 0 : sketch. i start with blue erasable pencil, lighten it, and do my lineart with a mechanical pencil.

step 1 : base color. half frivolously chosen as a neutral color to set it off from the white of the paper, half "whats the color of the light / the lightest color being reflected by the material its cast on"

im going to stop numbering the steps. i immediately went too dark with the hair and failed to consider the strength of the light in the setting / how reflective hair is. also i colored the basic color of the eyes and the rough shadow under the jaw. dont get attached to any of this.

broke out the "ph. martin's bleed proof white paint" my mom gave me a jar of years ago. it does well enough at bringing back light, but the texture youre left with is not ideal. lightly shaded the face skin with a similar color. i also blocked in the rough color for the suit jacket and tie here. the marker doesnt have to be evenly applied because you'll be going back over in enough layers that it'll even out.

i wish i stopped here.

things start to go off the rails. painted over his eyes because "why did i give him double eyelids" tried to paint over just the eyelids. didnt go well. scorched earth. reshaded the hair, deepened shading on the face and neck, started on the shirt, and applied a cursory pass of shadow on the jacket. the light angle does not remain consistent with this.

redrew the eyes. the angle feels uncanny. i wish he was still looking at his phone but the paint is not taking ink well and i doubt another layer would make it better. at some point i applied rough shadow to the hands. dont worry about the inconsistent lighting.

darkened the eyes so they were less creepy. didnt work. i assume the ink bled (alcohol ink soaks into paper, but since this is now on top of white paint, it just sits on top and pools out), so i embellished with posca marker to cover it up.

realized that with the length of the shadow the brow ridge was casting, the hair should cast a shadow too. light source starting to be established.

im really sorry. i didnt realize there was such a drastic jump between this one and the prior photo. basically, i started defining edges and areas of deepest shadow. fine edge definition was done with the cheapest ballpoint pen i own. dark marker blends fairly well, but only put it where you WANT it to be that dark, and blend outward from there to darken surrounding areas. many, many layers of grey and light blue, brown and darker brown for the jacket. now that i had a vague idea of the light source, i just had to place the shadows and follow the folds. hitting the points of shadow with brown (base color but darker + warm tinge to suit base color) and blue (reflected light).

this also wouldve been a fine stopping point.

used posca to outline the edge of the face + sharpen edges. added more pupil-spots. messed up the mouth some more. whatever. calling it done here because the jacket looks good and the face is freaking me out.

overall, i treat alcohol marker like watercolor. a big wash of color, rough base colors. roughly block in shadows, gradually add washes of deeper shadow. define edges. etc.

its harder to blend colors directly than with watercolor but thats nothing more layering cant fix. and then white paint if layering doesnt work. and then more layering.

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲

⬷ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 ┊ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ┊ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

pairing: minho x felix (minlix)

genre: dancer!minho/artist!felix. brothers best friend troupe. college au. age gap (abt 4 years). minho pov. extremely dark themes throughout, including smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

word count: 2.5k

the playlist 🗡️

a/n: ALRIGHT YA'LL!!!! 🗣️🗣️ WE'RE FINALLY GETTING TO SOME GOOD, JUICY PARTS!!! 🥴 enjoy this chapter cuz we're about to be in for another few wild rides before the end!! 😍☝🏼Hope ya'll are enjoying this series, as it's been a real joy for me to write. I haven't worked on it in a hot minute - since I started the new fall semester in uni. But I have a few more big plans for the remaining chapters and im excited to work on them~ 💗

🗡️ - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

̶﹒⊹﹒ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ's ᴛᴏᴏ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ʙᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ,  ！،، 🌌  𖥻 𓂃 ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ʙᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ,  ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ʙᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ╰╮ 🌑

  Minho didn’t know how long he slept for. All he knew was that it was fitful and restless. And by the time he woke up, the sun was rising high in the sky, beating down on him through the nearby window across from his bed. His sheets were a mess across his mattress, his hair equally distressed as he made to slide out of bed and search for his phone in the living room. 

  The screen protector was slightly cracked as he held the device up - probably from throwing it across the hardwood floor the night before. The screen lit up with about ten different text strings, all from his friends. He chose to ignore the rest of the long message Jeongin had sent, opting instead to find any updates on Felix. 

  The bulk of the messages were from the group chat he was a part of, which consisted of Chris, Hyunjin, and Changbin. 

Today - 05:40

Chris 

Felix is awake and talking. The doctor gave him some meds to help alleviate the sleepy side effects of the drug, and the police are here right now questioning him for everything he knows. 

Today - 07:15

Hyunjin 

We’re planning on bringing Felix back to his dorm soon so that he can get enough rest. Are you okay?? 

Today - 09:00

Changbin 

We dropped Felix off, he’s doing well and went back to sleep again. We’re grabbing some breakfast off campus, we should be back soon. 

  Almost as soon as he read the last of Changbin’s text, he heard voices just outside of the dorm and keys jingle at the front door. He relaxed against the couch after that. Because he was sick of being alone - and hearing others talk, even if he wasn’t a part of the convo - would help to soothe his mind. 

  Immediately upon stepping into the kitchen, Chris gave him an easy smile. “Hey— you’re up. I’m surprised, it’s still pretty early,” he said, making to put the leftovers of their breakfast in the fridge. Minho’s eyes flicked to the living room’s clock that was situated atop the coffee table, reading that it was a little past eleven in the morning. 

  “We brought you some food— eggs and pancakes and shit,” Hyunjin said, placing an extra plastic bag down on the kitchen counter and tilting his head to the side quizzically in question. 

  Waving a nonchalant hand in the air, Minho gave Hyunjin a tiny smile. But it was quite forced and hard to put on. “Not really hungry right now, but maybe later. Thanks, Jinnie.” 

  Soon, Changbin was plopping down on the couch beside him, resting his feet atop the coffee table and getting comfortable as he switched on the TV. “Bro— I definitely wouldn’t recommend going to the ER in this area after midnight. The shit we saw there was… traumatizing,” he started, as he flipped through a couple of channels until he landed on a cooking show. “I’m gonna need therapy for at least a year after everything.” His words got Minho to chuckle a little bit because Changbin didn't even have a therapist to begin with.

  Chris leaned against the nearby bathroom’s doorway, his stare catching ahold of Minho’s. “The police want you to come into the station today to give a statement. Want it sooner rather than later, that way the memories are still fresh. Will you go?” 

  Minho gaze softened as he looked on at his best friend. He could tell Chris was exhausted, his broad shoulders drooping by the second, the bags under his eyes turning a deep violet color and his eyes stormy with exhaustion. “Of course I will, Chris. I’ll do anything to help out.” 

  Taking in a big sigh of relief, like he was worried that Minho wouldn’t agree to talk to the police, Chris turned into the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a shower and then pass the fuck out. No one bother me unless it’s urgent or relates to Felix.” 

  Minho gave him a thumbs up, as his friend slipped into the bathroom. The bathroom Minho had been stuck in the night before, throwing up all the contents of his stomach and then some. 

  “Should someone go and check on Felix?” Hyunjin said, his voice trailing off as he leaned against the kitchen counter, scrolling through something on his phone. 

  “He lives with his best friend Jeongin, I’m sure he’ll be in good hands,” Minho replied, trying to keep his tone from being any more bitter at the thought of someone else yet again taking care of Felix. But for once, he wasn't lying, and he believed himself. Because it was true- and after how Jeongin had acted the night before at the club, and the story he told Minho over text, he was starting to get a keen understanding of the younger boy's relationship. 

  Changbin turned to give Hyunjin an easy smile. “Besides, I’m sure Chris will be over there daily for the foreseeable future now.” 

  Rolling his eyes, Hyunjin made to stuff his phone into his back pocket. “Okay, well, I think we should get going, Bin. I’m fucking exhausted and I have to study for a final.” 

  And just like that, within a few minutes, Minho was alone yet again. With all of his friends gone from his presence, he decided to focus on taking care of himself for once. So he took a quick shower and got dressed, limbs moving on autopilot. 

  Soon, he found himself darkening the doorstep of the local police station, deciding to get the questioning out of the way early before anything else happened. 

  The police officer who worked with him was nice enough, asking the basic questions about Minho’s personal info and his relationship with Felix. Which he always answered as a friend, by default. Once they got to the part of the night before, things were a little more blurry to recall - what with all the thoughts swirling in his head still, and the after-effects of the liquor and restless sleeping. 

  Even still, he did the best he could and the officer was appreciative of his help. It wasn’t the first time such a thing had happened in the area, and the officer was sure it wouldn't be the last. But he promised that they’d keep a closer watch on that exact club and other ones in the area just like it. 

  Minho found himself back on campus before he knew it. And he could feel the anxiety and stress building up in his system. The emotions and thoughts from the past 24 hours were just a ticking time bomb inside of him. He felt like if he didn't somehow channel all of the stress out in some form- he'd soon explode into millions of tiny pieces. And the only remedy he knew of was the dance studio on campus. 

  So that’s exactly what he did. 

  Before he knew it, he was in front of the studio’s mirrors, going over drill after drill. Ones from years ago and ones from months before. He was going over his final project’s routine - the one Hyunjin and he had gotten a perfect 100 on.

  The hours always seemed to pass by in the studio like the flutter of a faerie's wings. The time slipped through his fingers like melting snow, and as he danced, the light slowly began to dwindle outside. The nearby window of the studio turned bleak, as the heavens opened up and heavy rain began to pelt down on the building. But it was a comforting kind of sound and blurred out any other thoughts Minho had. 

  He was dancing without music, his limbs moving in a crazed kind of way, on their own accord and with a manic rhythm to them. He was drenched in so much sweat his t-shirt and sweatpants stuck to his body like glue. And only did he stop his movements when his legs gave out on him. He hadn’t even warmed up - like an idiot - and after hours of pushing himself, he finally tumbled down onto the floor with a loud flourish. 

  Breathing heaving in and out of his lungs, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Stared at the frenzied, wide-eyed look on his face, at the way his cheeks were rosy red and how his fingers twitched at his sides with anxiety. 

  As soon as the momentum stopped, all the thoughts came flooding back to him. Of what Jeongin had told him hours before, and of Felix’s childhood. 

  Minho was such a shitty person. 

  He didn’t even deserve to call himself a person in the first place. 

  The way he had treated Felix after he left home for university— like their connection during childhood was null, like it was so easy to erase, was so fucking mean. 

  The way he had blown up at him at the party that night, not knowing anything. Not knowing how much his words must’ve hurt Felix. 

  The way he had forced Felix out of his dorm after they had been studying all night. 

  And he couldn’t deny it any longer… 

  Despite what the rational part of his brain told him, and what society thought, he couldn’t avoid it any longer— 

  Because he wanted Lee Felix so fucking badly. 

  He wanted him — needed him — like he needed air. 

  Minho wanted to be the one at Felix’s side throughout all of the pain and trauma of life, he wanted to be Felix’s comfort no matter what, he wanted to make Felix’s days brighter. 

  Minho wanted to do everything with Felix. 

  And he was sick of pretending like he didn’t. 

  Sick of pretending like he didn’t stay awake late at night, just laying in bed aching for him. His heart squeezing in his chest because he yearned for Felix so badly. 

  He wanted Felix all to himself. All his attention, and love, and joy, and company. 

  And Minho wanted to do all kinds of sinful things to Felix too— even if he knew it wasn’t the right time or place and he shouldn’t want such things… 

  even though he knew he shouldn’t want to fuck Felix so much- 

  even though he knew he shouldn’t want to corrupt him so badly-

  to take everything from Felix and give it back to him in a nicer, prettier way. 

  But Minho couldn’t help it all, couldn’t help all of his wants and desires. The carnal things he dreamed of and wished for. 

   And just like that, he was standing up from the practice room’s floor. He was grabbing ahold of his phone on the nearby windowsill and turning to leave the place. Flipping through his phone, he read the messages Chris had sent him not too long ago. 

Today 

7:45

Changbin and I have work til late tonight, won’t be home until sometime tomorrow. Don’t wait up for me to have dinner.

Okay. I’ll be home either way. Lmk when you’re heading back. :) 

  So he would, yet again, be home alone. 

  Great. 

  That meant he’d have all the time in the world to pity himself and wallow over his issues and shittiness. 

  As soon as he stepped out of the dance studio, he found that it was pouring outside. The air was chilled from the fat raindrops coating the ground at his feet. Taking in a deep sigh, Minho pulled his thin puffer coat above his head, beginning his sprint across campus back to his dorm. But the sprint wasn’t that fast, since his legs still felt like jelly from practice, and his back was subsequently drenched in a mix of sweat and chilled rain. 

  The senior’s dormitory section on campus was all single-floor units, built to feel more like regular houses than cramped high-rise apartments - unlike the rest of the dorms on campus. So the single floor of his dorm is the exact reason why he could make out someone’s figure in the far distance, as he ran across the dry, brown grass of the senior’s pavilion. At first, he thought the person was waiting in front of his neighbor’s place. 

  Then, he realized they were waiting outside his front door. And as he grew closer to them, he could make out their small stature— the way their limbs were elegantly shaped, how they were drenched to the bone, and how their long blonde hair was- 

  Just as it registered in Minho’s mind, the figure was turning around at the sound of him approaching. It was… Felix. Standing there, in front of his dorm, in the frigid rain. Minho stopped in his tracks just a few paces away from him, staring into the younger’s eyes which were dark and stormy. Just like the storm brewing above their heads. 

  “W-What are you doing here?” Minho spoke first, gaze skirting down the length of him— taking in the way the rain had soaked through his purple sweatpants and matching hoodie. 

  Felix’s eyes found Minho’s, giving him the tiniest of smiles. “I couldn’t find you anywhere else, so this was my last option.” He said with a shrug. 

  “Why were you trying to find me in the first place?”

  “To thank you, for— for everything last night... Chris told me at the hospital," Felix started, his eyes softening at the topic of the night before and all of the chaos that had ensued. “And to say I’m sorry— for putting you through all that.” 

  “It’s fine, don’t even worry about it.” Waving a hand in the air, trying to brush off the way the air around them was so heavy with emotion, Minho moved around Felix to unlock the front door. “C’mon inside, it’s cold out and you’re drenched.” 

  Felix’s movements were a little halted as he followed Minho like he was still somewhat sleepy from the drugs that had just recently run through his system. 

  “I’m pretty sure I have something that’ll fit you—” Minho started to say, beginning to stride across the dorm to his bedroom, but he was stopped in his tracks at the feeling of a chilled hand catching hold of his wrist. 

  “Minho— wait, please. I need to—” 

  Felix’s voice came out so tiny and soft then, forcing Minho to turn around. And without even thinking about it, he was raising a hand to the younger’s face, brushing a gentle thumb against his freckled cheek. “You’re freezing, Felix. Just wait a second, okay?” 

  “Don’t leave me, please. I can’t—” The blonde began, his tone wavering as his bottom lip began to tremble. Leaning into Minho’s touch, he stared up at him with wide eyes that were cloudy with unshed tears. “Please, I need you— Min. Please, don’t—”

  At the sight of Felix clinging onto him for dear life, begging him to stay and be in his presence, Minho was taking the plunge, straight into the water. 

  Into the murky depths, swimming to the bottomless ocean of feelings. 

  The moment their lips connected, the moment their mouths found each other in the dim light of the dorm, Minho knew it was all over, and that things were never going back to how they were. 

  Everything would be different, changed. 

   Everything.

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

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[afterdarkprincess]

i won’t be denied by you (the animal inside of you)

Rating: Explicit Pairing: CM Punk/Drew McIntyre Word Count: 932 Summary: Drew McIntyre is obsessed with CM Punk. Haunted by CM Punk. Possessed by him.

AO3 Link

I cannot explain what happened here- I am still in the middle of my other WIPs I promise 😅

This fic is Explicit- my blog is not intended for minors, this is not one of my fluffy happy fics. Reader Beware- this fic contains very rough Masturbation, Anal Fingering, Intense Fantasies that include blood, dog collars, object insertion, etc. Full tag list on AO3.

tags for @thlayli-ra @elementaldoughnut12 @feelschicken @harmshake if anybody else wants tagged in any other punkintyre fics from me, please let me know ♥️

---

Steam fills the air in the confines of the hotel bathroom, the dial turned as hot as it will go as Drew stands in the sweltering spray.

Outside of the room, the hotel, the city of Philadelphia sings it’s ugly song, cars honking, men screaming obscenities in the streets, babies crying, life happening all around. The whole world spinning on as normal.

But inside this hotel bathroom, Drew McIntyre is reeling.

He had won. He’d won the World Heavyweight Championship. He’d pinned Seth Rollins, proved himself the better man, the Champion. He’d held the belt in his hands, heard the roar of the crowd chanting his name, everything he’d dreamed of for years.

He soaked in the moment, feeling a high he could barely describe. And then, over the noise, he heard his voice.

Punk.

Sat at the announce desk, hands in his lap, grin on his face.

Everything else fell away. The crowd, the lights, even Drew’s own family, who had flown all the way from Scotland to see him, see this moment.

It was just him and Punk.

He wanted- he needed to-

In the hot spray of the shower, Drew slammed his fist against the tile, splitting open his knuckle in the process.

He’d debased himself, crawled across the announce desk like a common whore. Presented the belt and himself, arching his back, flexing his thighs, flipping back his hair.

He had mumbled, too low for the camera or even Punk himself to hear, about how he would wait for the man to come back so he could finish him himself.

The words sounded hollow to his own ears.

“This is your moment.” Punk had said. “Why are you making this about me?”

Doesn’t he know everything is about him?

All of it, whether Drew had intended it or not, had been about CM fucking Punk since the moment his music hit at Survivor Series.

And it all had led to this, this moment. On his knees in front of Punk, ready to beg for what he needed so desperately.

But that’s not what happened, was it?

Punk laid his hands on him, grabbing his leg, pulling it out from under him after his wanton display. He’d ripped off his suit jacket, only to beat him with his brace and stop Drew into the floor with his fancy shoes.

Like Drew is beneath him, not even worthy of his time.

“I’ll show ‘im.” He growls, the sound echoing off the tiled walls. “Give ‘im no bloody choice but to see me.”

He lets out a guttural groan as he shoves two fingers inside himself, working them in and out of his hole roughly. He’s already hard and aching, his dick leaking precum despite the burn in his asshole.

Shame and arousal overwhelm him. He’s sick and he knows it, getting off on pain, losing sleep, missing workouts, he lost the one thing he’s been working towards for years all because he cannot get his mind off of CM Punk.

The man has invaded his waking thoughts and plagued him in his dreams. Too often Drew wakes up in the wee hours in a sweat, his sheets soiled or his dick engorged and wanting from the visions he sees behind his eyes.

They stir him now as he stretches his abused hole, scissoring his two fingers wide before plunging his ring finger in with a cry.

He sees himself with a dog collar tight around his throat, a stained metal chain that binds him to his opponent, his enemy, his lover, who smiles with bloodied shark’s teeth.

He sees his own naked body draped over a locker room bench, blindfolded and bound as Punk whips him viciously with a leather crop. When his lover is satisfied with the state of his bloodied ass he shoves the handle inside of him, and revels in the sound he makes.

The scenes flash before his eyes, each depraved and grotesque. Gagging on Punk’s cock on bloodied knees, screaming as his hole is pounded mercilessly with only his blood to ease the way, his nipples twisted and tortured as Punk laughs in delight.

He shoves his pinky in with the others and rubs against his prostate, the hot coil of arousal growing as his mind races.

Drew wraps his free fist around his cock and imagines it’s Punk’s hand instead, grip painfully tight as he tugs himself towards completion.

He feels lightheaded for a moment- the heat of the shower getting to him, and he can almost feel the warm touch of a body behind him, the possessive curl of fingers at his hip.

“Are you going to come for me?” Punk’s voice whispers hot into his ear. “Of course you are, you disgusting whore.”

Drew’s toes curl, his muscles contracting painfully in his thighs as he shoots cum onto the tiled walls. His hole clenches around his fingers, and he jerks with sensitivity, banging his forehead against the shower head.

He feels blood drip down his face from his temple, and another stream of cum shoots out of him.

Pathetic.

He can stand it no longer.

He removes his fingers from his sore abused hole, observing the streaks of blood that wash away in the streams of water.

When the evidence of his depravity is gone, he reaches for the temperature control and turns it sharply to cold, letting the cold shock cleanse him of his sins.

He emerges and wipes away at the steam that’s collected on the mirror.

He only sees himself in the reflection.

Punk’s laughter rings in his ears.

---

Hope you enjoyed!! I know this isn't my usual- but this would not leave me alone, they would not leave me alone lol

[mockerycrow]

wip roundup

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! Tag as many people as you have WIPS!

im updating this as i complete stuff tbh

thank you so much @glossysoap for the tag!!

i apologize for this list tbh, life has been getting in the way of my writing. i hope y’all understand

twenty four 4k requests left

Be Good (09!Soap x GN!Reader)

-> bdsm dom!09!soap, pain kink etc. requested

Best Reality (Laswell x Fem!Reader)

-> you’re laswell’s wife and it’s just soft fluff about waking up together in bed, loving each other. requested

Undercover Part VI

-> After you’re allowed to get up and move around in a wheelchair, you begin to open up about what happened with Makarov; his plans, and you begin to process some things. You have a formal introduction to Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick.

Undercover Part VII

-> Taking a break from telling your experiences, Soap and you spend the day together; leaving the room without telling anyone which sends half of the team into a panic. Classic Soap Antics. (subject to change)

Hockey Fight (Soap x Fem!HockeyPlayer!Reader)

-> technically hockey fight will not be the title, but it’s a short wip about soap dating a woman who plays hockey and witnesses a brawl on ice for the first time. soap never really watched hockey too much before dating you.

Hockey Win (Gaz x Fem!HockeyPlayer!Reader)

-> gaz is a life long hockey fan and he witnesses you winning your playoffs &lt;3

Hockey Fight (Gaz x Fem!HockeyPlayer!Reader)

-> gaz’s reaction to a brawl you were involved in on ice.

The Tempest (Price x GN!Captain!Reader)

-> a series i’ve been thinking for a few months. none of the chapters are ready for release, though. basically you and price have history and are forced to work together, along with your task forces. a lot of angst, a lot of heartbreak—but also a lot of self discovery.

Over The Hill (Ghost x Fem!Reader)

-> hanahaki au but you and ghost are lowkey toxic fwb. a lot of angst. i mean it. a lot. A LOT. haven’t decided if this would be a mini series or a one shot.

Chiroptophobia (Roommate!Gaz Series)

-> you meet kyle’s task force for the first time and you bond over humiliating gaz with his phobia of bats.

Sick Moments (Soap Edition)

Sick Moments (Price Edition)

I believe that is all…. this is embarrassing. i need to find time to write everything!!! AGH.

I’m not tagging anyone because i’m NERVOUS but you guys can absolutely use this post as an indirect tag for yourself!!