#but I’m so close to finishing and illustration

[mossywizard]

I was drawing and TwoCat came up and started kneading belly till I laid my legs down so she could sleep on me

Her snores restore years of my life

[pixlatedvampire]

Been dreaming lately 🌜☁️🌈💤

[papercorgiworld]

It started with a book

A Mattheo Riddle love story

Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader

The reader is a total bookworm and has a crush on Mattheo. For a summary check the request.

Warning: bullying, foul language and kissing

Picture source: https://pin.it/4HBHs0yxy

I’ve never written about a Hufflepuff reader before, I know that’s very Slytherin of me, but I really hope I did justice to our kind and hardworking Hufflepuffs.

I. Books and lifesavers

You were sitting in the quietest corner of the library and had just finished your essay on gillyweed. You reached for your newest novel, happy to finally dig into the book after finishing all your work. You scan the book in every way possible, adoring the illustrations and paper, but when you finally start the first sentence you’re interrupted.

“No, it should be here somewhere. It’s about conjuration, so this section.” You heard Mattheo’s voice explain, before he appeared next to your table looking at the books on the shelves. Your eyes shot up at him, but he was too focused on the books to even notice you. Your eyes immediately dropped back to your book when you saw Draco. “How would you know? You’ve never set foot in this place.” He snarls at his friend. Mattheo just rolls his eyes as his finger moves over the different titles. “Elemental Structure and Duration… Element-” You heard Mattheo mutter to himself and you looked back up from your book, watching him as he focussed on the books. “It’s Theory of Elemental Structure and Duration.” You suddenly blur and get up from your seat. Mattheo and Draco look surprised, like you had shown up out of nowhere. “Eavesdropping are we?” Draco snares and your heart sinks as they both stare at you. “No, I-I just, the book- it’s over here, somewhere.” You stutter as your face reddens. Mattheo throws Draco a dirty look and Draco just raises his eyebrows in defence.

Mattheo watching you stammer.

You quickly turn away from them and take a few steps towards a different bookcase. You panic a bit when you don’t immediately find it, but after a few seconds you spot it. “Here you go.” You hold the book in Mattheo’s direction, who carefully watches you before taking it. “Great, thanks. You’re a lifesaver.” A nervous laugh rolls over your lips as your eyes lock with Mattheo’s, but he quickly turns away and with a small wave they disappear. Yup, the cutest guy at Hogwarts just called me a lifesaver. You can’t help but bite your lip trying to contain your smile. “Well of course she knew where the book was, she looks like she bloody lives in this library.” Draco’s loud voice makes you wish you had kept your mouth shut instead of helping them. I’m such an idiot.

Time skip: a few weeks later.

II. Deadlines and crushes

Mattheo enters the slytherin common room exhausted and ready to blow off some steam. “Astronomy tower anyone?” Theo answers his friend's question by simply raising his hand and reaching for his cigarettes on the table. “Where have you been all day? We’ve been waiting for you?” Blaise questions. “The library. Apparently, I’ve missed three essays this month. Sluggy says that I can make up for it by writing one long one about Felix Felicis. If I miss tomorrow’s deadline, no quidditch for a month.” Draco’s eyes fill with panic. “I bloody hope you’ve finished that essay or you’re not heading up to the astronomy tower.” Blaise laughs at Draco’s dramatics. “Okay there, Matt’s mom.” Mattheo shakes his head. “Don’t worry, I only have to write two more paragraphs but I brought the book with me.” After a moment Mattheo's eyes widened. “The book!”. Without another word he sprints to the library hoping he’ll get there before it closes.

“Urgh.” You groan as you drop your books for the third time since you’d left the library. Clearly there was such a thing as too many books. While picking them up you spot Mattheo running towards the closed door of the library. “Fuck!” He screams with obvious frustration and without a second thought he pulls out his wand and points it at the door. “No! It’s enchanted, you can’t and also they will know.” You startle Mattheo with your sudden interruption and he lowers his wand. “Yeah, well, I don’t care, I really need my book.” When he raises his wand again, you step in front of him. “A book about what?” Even though your heart is racing, there’s something calm about you that has Mattheo surrender. “Felix Felicis.” You feel yourself get all giddy knowing that you have exactly what he needs.

He helps you carry your books as you both make your way to the Hufflepuff common room. “You’re a real nerdy one, aren’t you?” Mattheo asks you somewhat tactlessly. You smile at his bluntness. “I prefer ‘book enthusiast’.” He raises his eyebrows, making you laugh. “Nerd.” He sings and you give him a playful push. “Do you still want your book?” You tease and he smiles, adoring you. “Well of course, my apologies dear book enthusiast.” With bright smiles on your faces you enter the Hufflepuff common room, making everyone look up in surprise. There’s some awkward shuffling between you two as you try to take the books he was holding for you. “I’ll be back in a minute.” You leave Mattheo standing in the Hufflepuff common room seriously wondering what you Hufflepuffs were thinking when you decorated the place.

“Tadaah.” You say as you hand him your book on potions. “There’s two chapters on Felix Felicis, Slugghurn advised me to buy this book so you’ll definitely score points using this.” Mattheo’s eyes light up. “You’re again a lifesaver, princes, I won’t forget this.” Princess? And, he remembers me from the library. “I’ll return it to you tomorrow afternoon.” You watch him walk away and when you turn around and spot Cedric you curse yourself for staring like a lovestruck fool. He comes up to you, trying to hide his smile, but failing. “You alright there tomato face?” You force your lips into a line and look up at him. “Yeah, I’m just helping him out by lending him a book, since the library was closed.” He nods pretending to be convinced. “Uhuh, but still watch out, he’s still Mattheo Riddle.” You nod and make your way to your dorm.

III. Acts of love

The next day Mattheo had returned your book and ended up walking you to class, which had you walking on sunshine for the rest of the day, but I didn’t stop there. When he caught you staring during transfiguration you looked away blushing. However, when you looked back up after a moment he was still staring back at you with a sweet smile. When you sink back into your book you hear Mcgonagall. “Mister Riddle, if you could please give your book as much attention as you give your fellow students that would be much appreciated.” Theo, who sat next to Mattheo, couldn’t help but snicker. “That obvious?” Mattheo asked. Theo nodded. “Yes, that obvious.”

Mattheo would hold the door open for you and wink. “Did Riddle just wink at you?” Hermoine frowned. “Uhm, no, I just helped him with a book once… or twice.” Hermoine raised an eyebrow and looked at Harry, who also thought your answer was a bit off.

The next few weeks, he would come over to help you whenever he saw you carry more than three books and walk you to your class or to your common room. It was starting to get obvious to those around you two that something was going on. “Why don’t you just ask her out?” Theo took a long drag from his cigarette and looked at his friend. Mattheo’s first instinct was to play dumb but he knew that was pointless with Theodore. “I’m working up to it.” Mattheo stated and Theo laughed. “I’ve never seen you work this hard in your life.” Mattheo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but I guess I’ve never had the motivation to work for something like this.” Theo stared at the cigarette in his hand. “Then don’t ever let go of her.” Mattheo swore to take that advice to heart when he nodded.

IV. Bullies and kisses

“This is a library, please just lower your voices a bit.” You had softly asked an overly noisy group when you were studying. They had just laughed and eventually the librarian threw them out because someone else had complained.

You were on your way to the great hall for dinner when you heard some people laugh. “This is a library, please just lower your voices.” One of the noisy guys from earlier mocked you. Panic filled your eyes as you saw two of them walk up to you. “Care to share your notes?” One of them joked and tried to snatch your notebook from your hands, but you held onto it tightly. You tugged hard and took a few steps back trying to get him let go of it. When he looked over your shoulder and noticed that you were close to the stairs he let go of it and you stumbled back, falling a few stairs and hitting your face. You heard people laugh and you felt like half of Hogwarts was there. Your eyes were watery, but only when Ginny came running up to you did the tears start to roll over your cheeks. She wrapped an arm around you, held your stuff and walked you to the great hall.

It was Hermoine’s harsh voice that made Mattheo look up to you. “What happened?” Hermoine almost shouted and Mattheo’s entire demeanour changed when he saw your teary face, but he stayed seated at the slytherin table. When Hermoine made you lower your hand from your face, revealing a bruise on your perfect face, Mattheo felt his heart ache like never before. “That bastard made her fall off the stairs.” Mattheo carefully followed Ginny’s finger and his eyes landed on some snickering low life. You were surrounded by your friends and hadn’t seen Mattheo’s fuming figure get up from his seat and walk towards the door of the great hall.

The two assholes were laughing at your crying, while casually leaning against the door when Mattheo grabbed the one that Ginny had pointed to by the collar and dragged him out of sight, so the professor wouldn’t see what came next. “Picking on Hufflepuffs, that’s your game? Bet you didn’t expect to have me in your face?” Mattheo raged on with eyes full of hatred. Despite the attempts of the second douchebag trying to hold Mattheo back, he managed to punch him. The guy fell to the floor and Mattheo dragged him to nearby stairs. “How about I push you off of these?” Blaise was the one who reached Mattheo first and held him back long enough for the two bullies to leave. “Think about the next quidditch game, mate. If you get caught fighting, you’ll get detention for the whole week.” Mattheo pushed himself free. “Like I care.” Mattheo turned around looking for something or someone to punch. “They took her to madam Pomfrey. Apparently, her wrist was hurting as well.” Enzo spoke softly. “You should go see her.” Blaise urged and Mattheo calmed down, nodding.

Pomfrey had just bantaged your wrist when you spotted Mattheo leaning against the doorframe. He looked a bit pained to you so you immediately thanked Pomfrey and walked over to Mattheo. “You alright?” You asked, making him chuckle. “You’re a weird one, you know that right?” Seeing your confused face he explains himself. “You’re the one in the infirmary, but somehow you’re concerned about me?” A sheepish smile takes over your lips. “You just look a little sad.” He shakes his hand and wraps his arm around you, walking you to your common room. “Don’t worry, I’m fine now. Let’s stop by the kitchens and then settle in that weird looking common room of yours.” You frown and narrow your eyes at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Weird looking?” Mattheo looked at you and fell in love with you even more. Soft, red eyes from crying, a bruise and a bandaged wrist, but still by far the most beautiful person.

“You sure you're alright?” You tilt your head a little as you scan his face, but he just shamelessly continues staring at you. Your cheeks heat up when you notice him lean in. Suddenly all your nerves calm and your hand rests on his chest as your lips meet. He places a hand on the small of your back and pushes you into him. His warmth and strong arms make you relax even more. Your hand sneaks up to the back of his neck, where you carefully play with a few strands of hair. As sweet as he tries to keep the kiss, there’s obvious fire and hunger in it. This has definitely been on his mind as much as it has been on yours.

V. Secrets and good books

You turn the page of your book. “No, wait, I wasn’t finished yet.” You groan and tilt your head to face Mattheo, whose arms are around you, as you both lay in bed. “You’re a slow reader.” He frowns. “No, I’m not, but in case you haven’t noticed there’s a pretty girl in my arms and that’s distracting.” You can’t keep yourself from smiling and blushing. Cheeky bastard, giving me compliments and stuff, so annoying, those damn Slyterins. Reluctantly you turn the page back, but at the same time you lean into him purposely distracting him. His eyes immediately lock with yours and you can’t help but giggle. He rolls over so you’re under him and he starts mercilessly attacking you with kisses, but suddenly you hear something. You push Mattheo off of you. “I hear something, someone’s coming. Quick, hide in here.” Without another thought you push the dark lord’s son into your closet.

Mattheo when he realises a Hufflepuff just forced him into a closet and now he has to listen to Hermione rant about Ron.

“Merlin! Ron’s the worst!” Hermione slams the door open and starts ranting for 10 minutes straight. It takes a lot of work and lame excuses to get her out of your room. When you finally manage to get her out, Mattheo doesn’t waste a second to open the closet door. “Ron is such an ass.” Mattheo says with a ridiculous voice, making you shake your head. “Also, wear this to the party tonight.” He says holding a dress he had found in your closet while he was in there. “Please.” He pouts.

VI. This one’s taken

“Honestly, hiding in a hufflepuff closet from Granger, was a situation I never expected to find myself in.” Mattheo said as he passed the bottle of firewhiskey to Theodore who was still grinning after hearing Mattheo’s story. “How long are you going to keep this a secret?” Mattheo just shrugged, he hadn’t really thought about it. Mattheo hadn’t spotted you at the party, but he knew you were here somewhere so his eyes kept scanning the room for your perfect figure.

Cedric stood next to you when he swung his arm around your neck and leaned in while pointing at a guy he started hanging out with a few weeks ago. “This is Liam.” You smile politely to the guy that Cedric’s pointing at as you continue to gently move with the music. “Nice to meet you.” Cedric lets go of you and his spot is filled by the new guy. Liam is definitely a fun guy, he’s interested in books and gives you tips on ideal reading spots. However, he’s not Mattheo and your eyes can’t help but search for your boyfriend.

“Damn, should we tell Matt?” Draco asks Blaise, oblivious to the fact that Theo and Mattheo are standing behind him. “Tell me what?” Draco’s eyes widen and he curses himself. Blaise points towards you and Liam. “That mcflirty is hanging out with your girl.” Mattheo finally finds you in the crowd and he instantly feels himself boil up. Liam’s hand doesn’t touch you yet but it's hovering over your lower back, while his lips are dangerously close to your face as he’s talking to you. Mattheo feels himself cool down a bit when he sees you take a step away from the guy and lean towards Luna. “Remember what your girl said Riddle, a week of no sex for every punch you throw.” Mattheo rolls his eyes, but then continues to watch you dance in that cute dress he had told you to wear.

When Mattheo hears the music change he downs his drink and walks over to you. You don’t see him approaching since your back is turned towards him, but when you suddenly feel a chest against you and a warm breath in your neck you immediately know it’s him. You tilt your head and he plants a soft kiss on your cheek, while his hands snake around your body. “I think it’s time we stop sneaking around. I would hate it if some guy got the wrong idea.” He whispers into your ear and your eyes shoot up to Liam, who clearly wasn’t pleased. Mattheo on the other hand is very pleased. He pushes his crotch against your ass and his hands move to your hips, while he continues to kiss your neck until you turn to face him and he catches your lips with his.

Hermione’s eyes roll between you and her drink, wondering what she drank to see what she's seeing right now. “I always thought they looked cute together.” Luna blurs. “Wicked.” The Weasley twins sing as they watch your little public make-out. “I’m pretty sure all of Hogwats will know about us by tomorrow.” You say when Mattheo finally releases your lips. He can’t help but smirk when he sees all eyes are on you. “Good. Then let’s go, because I like that dress on you, but princes it’s going to look even better on my bedroom floor.” He spins you around and picks you up, you immediately wrap your legs around him, while kissing him.

Word count: 2950

This was not proofread. If you spotted an error, let me know. Lovies!

[purplealmonds]

Finished this just in time for the new trailer drop! This is my Mononoke illustration featuring assorted merch from the anime, movie, and stage play! How many can you recognize? ⚖️👹

(Yes, please send answers in the replies! Answers, progress pics, artist commentary will be drafted on a separate post when I'm less tired) ⭐️ UPDATE 04/03/24: Abridged artist commentary is now available under the cut! For the full version, please see the Google Doc linked in the replies.

👁️Overview 

Late last year, I rather belatedly discovered Mononoke’s 15th anniversary came and went, and with it, an entire swath of new content to manically pore over. This is an illustration of the various Mononoke merchandise, props, and set dressing I discovered.

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🔎Scope

Some fun facts regarding the work that went into this illustration!

Not including research time, this project ran for roughly two months, consuming much of my waking hours outside of my full time and freelance jobs.

While the illustration does not depict all of my findings, it does feature over 120 unique props and set dressings!

The majority of the props and set dressing were modeled to varying degrees of detail in SketchUp.

To model prep, I often put together schematics on Photoshop or Illustrators. Some were created from scratch. Others were created with the liberal usage of the Photoshop transform and perspective warp function. 

The master file is 1.5GB. The dimensions are 6400x3600 at 300 dpi, and contains over 2,200 layers. 

Near the end of production, the master file became so unwieldy I created a separate working file. This way, I could create assets lag-free then import the layers into the master file. 

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Past this point is where most of the commentary cuts were made for the sake of brevity. Again, look in the replies for the Google Doc link containing the full version with a table of contents for easier navigation!

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🗳️3D Layout

As you can see, the backbone of this illustration is the 3D model. I spent perhaps 30-40% of my production time on this stage.

And this is the lit version. The lighting ultimately got downplayed in favor of showcasing the vibrant colors. I like how simple it looks though!

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🎬Production-Based Set Dressing

In addition to merchandise, I wanted to insert set dressing and props from the various Mononoke productions. 

🦊Kusuriuri

It’s odd to have a section dedicated just to him, but his unique appearance warrants it. His garb and overall appearance is an amalgam of the anime and movie. The original intent was ambiguity– kind of like the blue/black vs. yellow/white dress phenomena a few years back. But after doing the color flats, I rather liked how the rich, unaltered colored fit with the overall composition so it became more blatant. I’m surprised that nobody has commented on this since I published the illustration. Maybe because I didn’t feature him in a close-up?

🐈 kai ~Ayakashi~Bake Neko (2006)

Finding props iconic to this story arc (outside of the Kusuriuri’s tools of trade, of course) was somewhat difficult. While the environment was richly decorated, it mainly consisted of 2D artwork which I wasn’t keen on retracing. I opted to paint objects that characters interacted with or featured heavily in the show.

Salt Jar

Candlestick

Rat Trap

🦋Mononoke (2007)

The props fall into three distinct categories here: Kusuriuri’s tools and trinkets; things featured in the opening and ending credits; and objects iconic to each of the five story arcs in the series. I tried to keep most of them clustered on the tatami, but as space grew scarce some props trickled up onto the deck as well.

Medicine Box

Exorcism Sword

Tenbin

Paper Talisman

Mirror

Ring

Geta Sandal

Necklace

Paper Umbrella (Zashikiwarashi)

Daruma Dolls ( Zashikiwarashi)

Gunpowder Ball (Umi Bozu)

Smoking Pipe (Nopperabou)

Genjiko Blocks (Nue)

Train Ticket (Bake Neko)

Lantern (Anime OP)

Butterflies (Anime EP)

☂️Mononoke: Karakasa (2024)

Pretty slim pickings for the new movie since I only had the teaser, first trailer, and movie poster to reference from. Kusuriuri’s tools of trade were a given, but finding memorable and narratively significant objects was a tad troublesome.

Thankfully, the set dressing ended up (however subconsciously) strikingly similar to the movie’s environment design, down to the green tatami and multicolor shoji screen. I suppose at this point I was so immersed in Mononoke content that its aesthetics subconsciously informed my design choices! 

Exorcism Sword

Tenbin

Paper Talisman

Comb

Movie Poster

Butterfly (Custom design)

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🪭Official Merchandise

Goods related to canonical narratives and/or productions.

🎊15th Anniversary

Mononoke Shu - A light novel by Hideyui Niki & illustrated by 2964_KO

Whiskey Glass & Box

📖 Key Frame Art Books by Hashimoto Takashi

Ayakashi Key Art Frame Book (2010)

Key Frame Art Book vol.9 (2017)

📚Manga by Yaeko Ninagawa

Kai Ayakashi: Bake Neko Vol. 1-2

Kai Ayakashi: Mononoke Prequel

Mononoke Vol. 1-10

🎭Butai Mononoke

Bakeneko Pamphlet 

Zashikiwarashi Pamphlet

Zashikiwarashi Acrylic Standees

Zashikiwarashi Manegi

💿Physical Media

Official OST CD

DVD Box Set

Yokai Pattern Fabric

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Common Collab Merchandise

This category consists of goods that are generally more affordable and feature graphics from the source material with minimal alterations.

Amnibus

Wall Scrolls

Tenugui Fabric 

Shot Glasses

Minoyaki Bean Plates

ANIGA-TER

Stickers

Can Badges

Canvas Prints

Anique

Diorama Acrylic Stand

Acrylic Blocks

Challenge Kuji

Kusuriuri & Hyper Clocks

eeo Store Online

Folding Fan

Keychains

Can Badges

gj character G

Cushion

Acrylic Charms

Neo Gate

Satchels

Mini Badges

Mini Badges by Mame Shinoda

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High-End Collab Merchandise

Goods which derive motifs from the characters, props, and patterns from the production and transform them in an elevated manner through abstraction or usage of precious materials.

gj character G

Exorcism Sword Ring

Goodsmile

Kusuriuri Nendoroid Figurine

Folding Screen

Kusuriuri & Hyper Plush

Tote Bag

Kaya

Umbrella

Tenbin Kanzashi

Tabi Socks

Dress

Kotobukiya

Figurine

Mayla

Pump Heels

Kusuriuri & Hyper Hairpins

Tenbin Earrings

Hyper Earrings

Noitamina Apparel

Perfume

Tenbin Necklace

Folding Fan

Super Groupies

Purse

Wallet

Watch

Tsumuji Design

Exorcism Sword Necklace

Ofuda Bracelet

Useless Use Lab

Fragrance Set

Air Purifier

Three-Sided Mirror

[klaus-littlestwolf]

(The drawings/tattoos that are used to illustrate the tattoos the boys get in this story are in no way mine and I do not take credit for them in any way (there’s a reason I’m a writer, I can’t draw to save my life 🤣). They are only used to show what the boys wanted tattooed on them by their mate. Credit where Credit is due)

Seeing them was odd, it always had been. It was very rare that I was on the boardwalk after the sun went down and when I was I always had someone with me who walked me to my car, and always freshly after sunset. I knew the boardwalk was a dangerous place at night and honestly, I preferred to avoid it, even if the night life is more fun for everyone.

Unfortunately I had to take this shift for a coworker for the rest of the week at least, and was stuck here until the Tattoo shop closed at 2am, and the only reason I’m not complaining is because people seem much more willing to tip better at night. The Lost Boys were a biker gang, and while I couldn’t deny that they are attractive and that they look like a lot of fun, I also knew better. They parked their bikes across from the shop every night, from what I could tell they enjoy pissing off Max, the video store owner, though I don’t know why.

I tried very hard not to make eye contact with any of them, just not looking up at them at all as I finished my tattoo, which was a pinup of a mermaid, and covered it up with plastic wrap, quickly checking the guy out and accepting my 30 dollar tip before shutting the register on my finger which instantly made me yelp in pain and see a trickle of blood coming from my finger. Thankfully it was only a little cut and it wouldn’t hinder my work as I sucked off the blood and quickly disinfected it, wrapping a tight bandaid around it. Just as I moved to my station to clean everything my eyes flickered up as if by instinct and caught all 4 of the boys staring at me intently which startled me but I quickly looked away and tried to calm my racing heart by getting rid of the inky water at my station. Just as I was about to put my ink away and read my book I heard footsteps walk into the front.

‘Hello, welcome to Ink-Well Tattoo Shop, if you’d like to look at my books they’re on the shelf.’ I told them, just turning around as I finished talking and coming face to face with the bleach blond leader that had been staring at me only a moment ago.

‘Ink-Well…is that a reference to an ink container people used to have on their desks or how good you are at your job?’ He asked…softly? I had always imagined their voices to be deep and dark, especially his, but while it was deep it was also gentle, at least while speaking to me right now it was but I could tell that soft voice wasn’t always so soft.

‘I think you’re the first person to prove me wrong, the owner said, “Everyone knows what an inkwell is”…no one knows what it is. And personally, I would describe my abilities much better than “well”. I’m incredible, do you know what you want today, sir?’ I asked, moving around him only to find the dark haired one right behind him and I realized how tall he really is as I almost slammed my face into his naked chest. I looked around, seeing the other two beside my chair and I took a deep breath. ‘Which one of you is getting inked today?’ I asked and the twisted sister look-alike jumped up excitedly.

‘Oh! Me! I want to do it!’ He seemed to be begging which was a strange thought as the leader nodded and he jumped to sit in the chair.

‘Okay, I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.’ I held out my hand and he took it in his own, pulling me closer before kissing my hand tenderly which made my blood rush to my face. The idea that these boys are soft and sweet and gentle in any way shape or form is really screwing with me. Their presence had always been a tad bit scary with the vibe they gave off, sexy or not (and they definitely are), but for the first time that I’m seeing them it’s like they’re not projecting dangerous vibes and it was a comfort in this situation being alone with all of them.

‘I’m Paul. This is Marko, Dwayne and you met David. Y/n, I like that name.’ He flirted and I rolled my eyes, handing him a book full of images of my work.

‘I’m glad, do you know what you want to get Paul?’ I asked, and he smiled as he looked at my work, all of them now watching as he flipped through the pages.

‘I want a vampire bat on my chest. Are you able to do that?’ He questioned, looking up at me as Marko took the book and I nodded, sitting in my seat beside him.

‘Were you looking for it to be realistic, like a portrait? Because if you want something like that it’s a 6-7 hour minimum piece and I would need you to come back during the day-‘

‘Oh, we can only be here at night, I want something smaller anyway. Not cartoony but-‘

‘You want a badass vampire bat, I get you. I can definitely do that. How big are you looking to get it?’ He jumped to pull off his jacket which jingled with all the stuff he had hanging off of it before stripping off his tank top.

‘Like maybe, this big?’ He showed me the area of his chest he wanted covered and I nodded.

‘Okay, let me draw that up and we’ll see if you like it.’ It was a relatively small tattoo and he watched, leaning over the chair as I sketched it out and he was smiling the whole time, staring at me.

‘You’re really pretty, has anyone told you that?’ He asked and I rolled my eyes.

‘Surf Nazis say shit every day-though they usually go with “hot”, “sexy”, “great rack”. Things like that, pretty is a new one though, thank you.’ I knew my face was red as he watched me draw, Marko suddenly beside me, setting a chair near Paul’s feet.

‘They bother you a lot, Angel?’ He wondered and I shrugged, my face darkening even more as he called me that.

‘All day long, they’re probably the most annoying customers so my boss takes all of them since they started getting a bit too comfortable and handsy with me and the other girl. I have her evening closing shift for the week so, if they show up I get to tell them to “fuck off” which is awesome.’ I joked and they laughed along with me.

‘Well, we’ll need to make sure they don’t bother you anymore, won’t we boys?’ It was the first time David spoke again and I looked up to see him watching me draw over my shoulder.

‘Fuck yeah, no one’s gonna be bothering our Princess.’ Paul cheered and it was weirdly comforting to hear that they wanted to protect me.

‘Please, just leave it alone? They don’t know I’m working nights now so it’s all fine, and I’ll only be doing it for the week. What do you think? Do you think he looks mean enough?’ I asked, showing Paul my drawing.

‘Princess, that’s incredible! It somehow looks cute and vicious…like Marko!’ He teased, getting punched in the chest immediately.

‘Okay, punch each other all you’d like outside, but if you make his skin swell where I need to ink then I’ll hit you myself.’ I told Marko, moving to make a stencil for the tattoo that Paul wanted, nearly running into Dwayne again, who just watched me.

‘Don’t mind him, he’s quiet but honestly, he’s the nicest of all of us…usually.’ David spoke and I smiled, quickly making the stencil.

‘Would you tattoo me tomorrow night?’ A new deep voice asked and I looked up to see it had been Dwayne. I paused to pick my chin up from the floor at the sound of his sexy deep baritone voice before shaking off and answering him.

‘Of course. Do you know what you want done, because I can do anything you want but depending on the style you want I might recommend a coworker. Say you wanted Japanese, I would recommend Kevin, he is fucking killer at that stuff and if you want anything American Traditional he is bomb at it.’ I had said this because of the American Traditional rose tattoo I could see peeking out on his side though he quickly shook his head.

‘I want you. I want something like this.’ he showed me the dreamcatcher piece I had put in my book and I smiled.

‘This is one of the best tattoos I ever did, and it was so much fun! Do you want it that size?’ He nodded his head.

‘Yes, but a bit more along the Native American type style? I’d like it to look like it’s braided together…could you do that?’ He looked unsure but I just kept smiling.

‘Of course I can! Let me draw a couple of things up tonight for you and you can see what you like best tomorrow. I’m sure I can give you something perfect!’ For the first time the corners of his mouth turned up and he smiled down at me-his smile was hot cute.

‘I know you can Babygirl.’ I was startled but after hearing Marko and Paul I realized that they seem to have a thing for nicknames so I ignored it.

‘Alright Paul, stencil is done.’ I spoke, sitting back down beside him. Most of his chest hair was in the center of his chest so I didn’t need to shave where he wanted the tattoo before placing the stencil and squeezing out the inks I would need. ‘Are you ready, rockstar?’ I asked him and he grinned as I called him that.

‘Hell Yeah Princess! Ink me up!’ We chatted as I tattooed him, him and Marko keeping me engaged with the conversation but I noticed David and Dwayne off on their own and speaking seriously for a while. The tattoo took about an hour, maybe a bit more before I was finished, turning off the machine and wiping his chest down.

‘What do you think?’ I waited for his reaction after handing him a mirror to see it more clearly and he turned it away from me instantly, seeming uncomfortable before looking down at his chest instead of at the reflection and grinning at the new ink on his body.

‘Princess! This is amazing!’ He exclaimed, placing the mirror face down and moving to hug me.

‘Ah-Ah! It’s sensitive! Don’t you dare destroy my work!’ I warned, turning to lay some plastic wrap over it and tape it down after David and Dwayne looked at it.

‘You’re really talented. I’m gonna have to go after Dwayne.’ David told me, watching as I cleaned up.

‘You’ll have to go the next night cause Dwayne’s is going to take me until closing at least…what time can you get here tomorrow?’ I asked him.

‘I’ll be here right after the sun goes down, I promise.’

‘Okay, so that’s about 8. I’ll be sure my last client will be done by then. Where do you want it, by the way?’ He opened his jacket, showing me the right side of his chest and making me blush. ‘Got it. I’ll have a few options for you tomorrow. For now, Paul, that’ll be 45.’ I finished putting everything away as it was now 10 minutes after closing time.

‘Here you go Princess, be safe getting home, you hear?’ He warned and I nodded, Paul, Marko and Dwayne walking out and leaving me with David for a moment and I froze under his intense stare.

‘Paul is right you know…you really are beautiful.’ He complimented, his gloved hand holding my chin for a moment before walking out and letting me shut the gate to the front before realizing Paul had given me a 100 dollar bill which is a 55 dollar tip…maybe I can like these boys after all.

What I didn’t know was, as I walked out the back door and locked it once the place was all clean, I was being watched. I made my way down the boardwalk, grabbing a burger and fries, along with a coke, shoving the food in my bag and sipping my soda as I walked off the boardwalk and all the way home.

Unlike every other night I had walked in the dark before, I felt…safe? I wasn’t looking around like a crazy person waiting to get jumped, I just walked home and crashed into bed.

I live in an apartment with a roommate, Justin, who is always out at his girlfriends (whoever that is this week) which left me alone most of the time and I loved it. I put in a video I had rented from the video store next door earlier that day, it was a new horror movie, Hellraiser. Strange premise, awesome movie.

That’s how I fell asleep that night, around 3:30 am, and all the while 4 sets of yellow eyes watched from the trees outside.

I got to work the next night at 6 as my boss left and set my sketchbook on my table, taking 2 quick tattoos before telling the last walk-in that I didn���t have time, knowing as the sun began to set Dwayne would be coming for his tattoo and I was excited to see which one he picked. I had set up everything I would need and just as I was scheduling a tattoo for a coworker to do tomorrow for a walk-in, I heard the rumble of bikes coming down the boardwalk making me smile. ‘Okay, Kevin will take you tomorrow at noon, is that alright?’ I asked the annoyed girl who clearly just wanted her tattoo now.

‘Still don’t get why you can’t just take me now.’ She bitched and I fought to not roll my eyes as 4 sets of heavy boots stomped through the front.

‘I can’t take you now because I’m tattooing him now. Your appointment is for noon tomorrow.’ She turned and as she saw the boys she quickly ran out the front and was gone, startling me. ‘I should employ you as security here from now on.’ I teased, grabbing my book and walking over to my chair.

‘We can do that for you at night.’ Marko agreed, a grin on his face which seemed to always be grinning honestly.

‘Well I’m only working here for the week at nights so you won’t see me after that-‘

‘No! You need to keep working nights Angel, what are we supposed to do without you here?’ Marko complained.

‘Come on, the night life is more fun anyway Princess!’ I rolled my eyes, opening my book.

‘I’ll think about it. Okay, this is the first one I did, I went simple cause I didn’t know how detailed you wanted everything. Usually I put in too much detail and people hate it.’

‘It’s nice, but I was hoping for something more intricate.’ He told me and I smiled.

‘Okay, I went a little bigger with this one, but my personal favorite is this one.’ I showed him the third one and his eyes widened. ‘I researched some Native American dream catchers and tried to make it as real as I could…do you like it?’ He nodded his head slowly and I was worried for a moment.

‘It looks like the one my Ma made me when I was a kid…it’s perfect Babygirl, thank you.’ I was touched by that.

‘This is why I love my job, you can tattoo memories for people that they get to keep for a lifetime. Don’t thank me yet though, not until it’s done, I already made the stencil for it, I just knew you would pick this one! Take off your jacket.’ I told him, grabbing the stencil and looking at Paul. ‘Let me see how it’s healing rockstar.’ He hesitated for a moment before pulling his shirt up and I was stunned. ‘Holy shit!’ I stood, moving to him and touching his chest. ‘You…you heal fast don’t you?’

‘Way fast, it looks great Princess.’ He pecked my cheek before sitting next to Marko and I moved back to my chair, removing my jacket and getting ready to place the stencil. ‘Damn girl! You are tatted up!’ I tried to stop the blush that came in but I couldn’t, smiling as they all inspected my skin which had both of my sleeves done.

‘Yeah, I don’t know any tattooers who don’t have tattoos, and if you find one, don’t go to them.’ I teased, peeling the stencil off and turning on my machine to begin inking the shirtless God.

‘I need food, you guys want anything? Dwayne? Angel?’ Marko offered a little later, just as I was finishing the outlines.

‘I wouldn’t mind a coke.’ I told him and he grinned, jumping to go get food with Paul behind him. ‘How are you feeling Dwayne? Okay?’

‘I’m fine, how are you?’ He countered and I rolled my eyes.

‘I’m trying to make sure you’re not getting dizzy or are gonna pass out on me, you’re still as a statue and barely breathing. Don’t be a smartass.’

‘I’m fine, I promise. You have beautiful eyes…’ he mumbled and I just blushed, beginning to detail the braided base before moving to the feathers.

I finished the tattoo just before 2 and it came out perfectly, prompting me to hand him the mirror which he grabbed as Paul had and turned it away from me though I could swear it looked like he didn’t have any reflection at all. ‘Alright, you’re all finished. Is it what you wanted?’ I asked and he nodded, looking down at his chest.

‘You have no idea how perfect this is. Thank you Babygirl.’ He leaned down and kissed my cheek as I rang him up and I was once again bright red.

‘Look at that cute little blush!’ Marko exclaimed and he and Paul laughed like crazy. ‘Everything you do is just so cute Angel!’ He was teasing me and I wanted to hate it but I didn’t, it filled my stomach with butterflies and I was feeling awful about how badly I wanted to jump all of them.

‘Shut up.’ I grumbled and began closing up, all of them moving to hug me in one way or another.

‘We’ll see you tomorrow night Kitten.’ David told me and it felt almost like a warning, daring me not to be here which made me excited.

For the rest of the week they were there, David and Marko both getting tattoos of their own before Paul decided to get a bigger piece, dedicating a whole sleeve to his rockstar image which I found cute, starting with a killer electric guitar and lyrics from the song Lost in the Shadows. That next night was my last night on the boardwalk, going back to the dayshift the next day which they complained about loudly, insisting I switch my schedule so they could see me.

That night as I started my shift I was immediately bothered by Surf Nazis, a few of the assholes noticing me in the shop alone. I had kicked them out and the security escorted them off the boardwalk (which I knew wouldn’t last long). The boys didn’t show up at 8 like they normally did and I was a bit disappointed but I knew they would find something shiny and new to love eventually, guys like that always do.

Around 10 o’clock the assholes were back, 3 of them now walking around the shop and getting too comfortable.

‘Don’t touch me!’ I snapped as I cleaned my station, deciding to close early tonight and just take the loss if it got them away from me, their hands pinching me now and then before the one with the giant Mohawk pulled me to his chest and pinned me to the counter. ‘Let Me Go!’ I growled, punching at him as hard as I could but not making him budge.

‘Come on sweetheart, just spend the night with us, I promise you’ll have the time of your life.’ He teased just before I brought my knee up and hit him straight in the crotch, a high pitched noise escaping him before he collapsed.

‘Get the fuck out!’ His 2 friends helped him up before practically carrying him out and I pulled the gates at the front shut, locking them and making my way down the boardwalk. Unlike the last 5 nights, I was uneasy and scared again, hating the long walk in the darkness which is what made me hesitate as I got to the parking lot before trying to quickly get to the next street and away from the rowdy people. I wasn’t even halfway through the parking lot when I was grabbed, tight hands clamped around my waist and mouth as I was hauled down the beach no matter how hard I kicked before being dropped by a bonfire.

‘Hi there.’ The asshole from earlier greeted and I rolled my eyes.

‘Get the fuck away from me!’ I snapped, trying to get up only to be shoved back down onto my ass, realizing there were 4 of them now all looking down at me like it was the funniest joke ever told.

‘Oh, come on! We’re gonna have a great time, you just need to relax.’ There were suddenly hands on me from behind pulling at my jacket and I tried to pull my arms back, kicking my legs out and hitting the one in front of me in the stomach before two of them pinned me on my back on the sand.

‘You’re gonna pay for that, bitch.’ He snarled and just as he knelt down over me there was a loud shrieking sound from behind him and they all turned towards their friend that had screamed. I couldn’t sit up to see from where I was but as both men holding me suddenly let me go I knew whatever it was, it wasn’t good. As more screams rang out I rolled over, crawling along the sand and keeping my head down before seeing boots below my face that I recognized instantly.

‘David?’ I questioned, looking up and stiffening as I saw blood covering his mouth and jaw but strangely, I didn’t feel any real fear like I had moments ago.

‘Are you alright Kitten? The one night we’re late.’ He teased, leaning down and lifting me up to my feet. I turned around as the screaming suddenly cut off and saw all 4 Surf Nazi’s dead and covered in blood. I had to swallow to keep from getting sick as I saw several limbs no longer attached to their original bodies, Paul and Dwayne covered in blood much the same as David while Marko held one of the assholes in his grip with his…fangs…in the man’s neck.

‘Holy shit…’ They all looked at me now, their faces distorted but they didn’t look angry like I would expect, more concerned as they all looked at me, Marko dropping the now dead body.

‘Relax Kitten, it’s alright. You’re safe now.’ David told me and I took a deep breath, not feeling scared in the least.

‘Vampires…makes sense…only coming out at night. The mirror thing…that’s why you heal so fast! Totally unfair!’ I whined, realizing why their tattoos healed so quickly as they stepped closer to me, Dwayne having cleaned off his face as best he could before looking me over quickly.

‘Are you hurt? We got here as quickly as we could, we-‘

‘I’m fine! It’s alright…thank you for saving me…I’m going to have to switch to working nights after all, aren’t I?’ I joked making David snort beside me while he lit a cigarette.

‘Or you could quit and just tattoo us exclusively.’ Paul proposed. ‘For the rest of eternity.’

‘W-wait, you mean-‘

‘You think we show just anyone what we really are?’ Marko wondered.

‘You were meant to be one of us Princess-knew you were ours since the moment you sliced your finger and we smelled your blood, no changing that.’ The pothead laughed making me roll my eyes before feeling David’s arm around my waist, covering my neck in blood as he nuzzled me which was a uniquely gross feeling.

‘He’s right Kitten. You ain’t gettin away from us, might as well accept it…you, our little mate, were born to be a vampire.’

Lost Boys Masterlist

Lost Boys x Tattoo Artist Moodboard

[hannyoontify]

little stars - kwon soonyoung

member | non-idol!hoshi x illustrator!reader

genre | fluff, newly est. relationship

word count | 2k with some change

synopsis | soonyoung sees you without makeup for the first time, and he notices something he’s never seen before

warnings | reader wears makeup, reader has freckles on their face, reader is implied to have insomnia but it’s not prevalent to the plot, reader is ticklish, soonyoung has an extensive vocabulary of terms of endearment that borderline make me wanna hurl if they were used unironically, soonyoung makes a shrek reference

notes | i have freckles on the back of my hands and have always been insecure of them but i remembered how my ex used to kiss them and say they were beautiful

Soonyoung’s not a criminal. He knows that. The last time he committed a serious crime was back when he was seven years old when he stole a new pack of crayons from his sister’s friends’ house after a play date.

(Two seconds after leaving said friend's house and he could no longer handle the overwhelming and crushing guilt and ended up running to his mom and crying, calling himself a “tiger thief.”)

So when Soonyoung urgently texts your best friend to ask for the password to your apartment, he can’t help but feel a dull pang of guilt in his chest as he inputs the numbers he sees into the digital keypad. His hands are shaking as the door unlocks and he fumbles through the doorway and upon your quiet and dark apartment.

It’s well past noon now and yet, there wasn’t a single hint of you in the living room and kitchen. The sink was still empty, the drying rack was full, the throw pillows on the couch looked too pristine, and the curtains were still closed. Fearing the worst, Soonyoung quietly made his way to your closed bedroom door, his sock-covered feet padding along the floor. 

He softly knocks once. Then twice. “[Name]?” No response. 

“[Name]? Baby? Are you awake?” When he doesn’t get a response, Soonyoung pushes the door slightly open. “I’m coming in…” 

In the dark room, all Soonyoung could perceive was a lump amidst the lush pile of stuffed animals and blankets, your sleeping form slowly rising and falling. “Baby…” He pushed the door wider, letting the minimal light from the living room stream past your doorway, shedding light into your dark room.

The lump under the big fluffy duvet stirred, squirming around as Soonyoung approached the side of your bed. He turned on the mushroom lamp you had on your bedside table and you let out a loud groan. 

While you stirred in your sheets, Soonyoung glanced around your room. He’d only been to your apartment a couple times in the past few months but he was already familiar to the layout of your bedroom. In the corner, next to the window was your desk with your extensive, impressive PC set-up. Sheets of half-drawn and unfinished pencil drawings were strewn across your drawing board and your desk was a flurry of paper, reference photos, and pencils.

Soonyoung felt a pang in his chest at the realization that you had probably stayed up until ungodly hours trying to finish your illustrations. You were an artiste and you had a bad habit of working until you practically dropped dead when you were struck by a lightning of inspiration.

“[Name], love, it’s time to wake up. It’s already past 3 in the afternoon. Sleeping is for the nighttime.” You poked your head out of the blanket, the edge of the fluffy duvet resting right below your eyes and covering the rest of your face. 

You stared at him blankly with bloodshot eyes and Soonyoung swore he saw—and heard—the gears turning in your head. It took you a couple seconds to recognize your boyfriend. “Soonie?” You croaked out, your voice still hoarse having woken up just seconds before.

Soonyoung smiled at the nickname and affectionately patted your head. “Time to wake up, sleepy head. Don’t wanna ruin your sleep schedule. Late night, huh?”

You nodded and rubbed an eye. “Deadline was…” You yawned. “Last night. Couldn’t sleep either.”

Soonyoung nodded sympathetically. 

“What- what time is it?” You blinked at him with the blanket still covering the rest of your face. Your hair was a tussled mess that was fanned out on the pillow behind you.

“3 pm, baby. C’mon. Let’s get you out of bed.” Soonyoung gently pulled the blanket away, revealing the rest of your face and your matching tiger pajamas. Your boyfriend stared at your clothes, an ambiguous look in his eyes that made you unsure of whether he found your pajamas adorable, or if he simply coveted your clothes and hence boosting you up to top 3 on his rob list, next to his model friend, Joshua and his tiger striped patterned button-up.

(That button-up wasn’t even his, it was something his stylist had just put on him for one of his magazine photo shoots.)

Meanwhile, reality had finally begun to settle in for you as you just realized that your new, hot boyfriend was standing in your bedroom, fluffy hair galore. He was standing over you with a twinkling look in his eyes, clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a white tank top, his muscles flexing and rolling as he tugged the blanket off of you.

You then suddenly became painfully aware of your appearance. You were in your embarrassing tiger character pajamas and your face was painstakingly bare. Your hands flew up to your hands and you flipped over, burying your face into your pillow with a loud groan. 

“Soonie, can you wait outside for me?” Your voice was muffled by the fabric of your pillow. 

Soonyoung reached out for your shoulder and his eyebrows scrunched up with worry. “Why? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

With your hands still covering your face, you rolled back and peeked at your boyfriend through your fingers. “I’mmph mmm wmmph any mammphup.”

Soonyoung chuckled and gently grabbed your wrists. “Baby, I can’t understand what you’re saying.” 

“I’m not wearing any makeup,” you whined. “You’ve never seen me barefaced before, I’m embarrassed.”

“Nooooo, baby, lemme see your hot and sexy face,” When you wouldn’t budge, Soonyoung sighed in fake exasperation. “Then you leave me no choice.”

He crawled into the empty spot next to you in bed and wrapped his big arms around you, prying your hands away from your face. 

You giggled and wriggled away from Soonyoung, using everything within you to try and hide from your boyfriend who was now currently pinning you to the mattress jiu-jitsu style. You shrieked when Soonyoung’s cold fingers dug into your sides, causing you to writhe around under him, like a fish without water. You gasped for air as Soonyoung tickled you but your hands still firmly covered your face.

“Baby, babe, pookie bear, my sweet sugar plum, my snookum bear, honey bunch, sweet cheeks, pooh bear, pudding pie, my cutie patootie, snuggle bear,” Soonyoung gently grabbed your wrists again. “I don’t care if you’re the pretty princess version of Fiona or the ogre version. I’ll be the Shrek to whichever version you are, because,” Soonyoung placed a hand over his chest and spoke after a dramatic pause. “It’s the heart that truly matters.”

You snorted. 

“Are you laughing at me and my Shrek analogy? You know it took me a long time to think of that.” Soonyoung seemed to deflate and he pouted.

“Of course not baby. I think your Shrek analogy is genius,” You peeked through your fingers, just in time to see his chest swell again with pride–you had complimented his Shrek analogy! “But I’m still not showing you my face.”

“BABY NOOOOO,” Soonyoung dramatically threw himself against you, his fingers seeking refuge in your armpits this time, causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles. “LEMME SEE YO FACEEEEE.”

“Nooooo,” you whined. Despite your protests, you couldn’t help but giggle as Soonyoung tried different combinations of kissing and tickling to try and get you to open up.

Thanks to his stubbornness and his iron grip, he was finally able to pry your hands off your face and pinned them against the pillow next to you. In the midst of wrestling you, Soonyoung had ended up on top of you, his legs straddling your waist and he looked down at you with a triumphant grin. “Gotcha.”

His eyes were roaming around your face, evidently studying you as you tried to avoid eye contact. Your giggles slowly subsided, and you heard Soonyoung trying to catch his own breath. When he finally managed to lock his eyes with your own, there was a softness in his eyes in the way he looked at you that you had never seen before.

Breathless, Soonyoung spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You… have freckles…”

“H-huh?” You felt your cheeks burning as your boyfriend timidly brought a hand up to your face. His fingertips softly grazed your skin, his touch so light and gentle, you would’ve thought it was just a light gust of wind if you hadn’t been paying attention. Soonyoung’s eyes stayed trained on your cheeks, his eyes examining each and every individual freckle with a gentleness you had never seen from him before.

You’ve always been aware of the freckles on your face, but they’ve never received this much attention from someone before. It felt awkward, but it also felt… intimate. It felt nice for your beauty marks to be appreciated, and your heart swelled with affection at the sweet gesture from your boyfriend. 

Soonyoung continued to study the freckles, his fingers lightly tracing your skin with a feather-like touch. As if he was trying to commit every single detail of you to memory. Finally, his eyes meet yours and the corner of his lip tugs up, hinting a smile. “You’re beautiful.”

You feel the heat on your cheeks spreading across your face to the tip of your ears and you become unsure of how to respond. Sure, you’ve received compliments before, but not like this. No compliment you’ve ever received has ever been this intimate or vulnerable. The way Soonyoung said those two words made it sound like a secret. A secret that he uttered quietly into the void, whispering it into existence, just for you to hear. A secret only the two of you would know.

You thought your heart was about to burst. 

Soonyoung cupped your face with both his hands and his thumbs rubbed gently against the soft skin on your cheekbones. You blinked up at him, watching his big, dark eyes roam around your face. The light of your mushroom lamp reflected in his eyes, sparkling and shining with a child-like wonder. 

Your room was dimly lit, the muted colors in your room solely provided by the small lamp on your bedside table. It had begun to rain at some point, the dull pitter-patter of the rain against your window replicating the beating of your heart. 

After what seems like forever, you finally speak up. “Soonie?”

Soonyoung begrudgingly tears his eyes away from your freckles and looks into your own, shining eyes. “Yes, baby?”

“I–” you faltered, unsure of what to say. You pursed your lips and stared at your boyfriend who gave you a soft, loving smile. “Are my freckles that interesting?”

Soonyoung’s grin grew into a boy-ish one and he reached over and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Yes, honey. I want to commit every part of you to memory. I want to learn the story behind every freckle and scar. I want to learn all of you.” 

You felt an unfamiliar warmth stir in your heart, that soon spread throughout the rest of your body, through your fingertips and every cell of your being. Your heart fluttered. Was this what poets and lyricists meant when they wrote of love

“They’re like… I mean, I’m not a poet but-” Soonyoung fumbles as he searches for the right words to describe the immeasurable admiration and love he felt for you. 

Your freckles were strikingly beautiful and Soonyoung felt the wind getting knocked out of him when he first saw the sweet brown sugar sprinkled on your nose and cheekbones. They were like April rain showers that sprinkle the green grass with yellow flowers and Soonyoung thought your face mimicked the night sky, your freckles glinting and gleaming like countless stars. 

“Your freckles… they remind me of beautiful constellations. They can create illustrations in the night sky by connecting the dots and they tell stories, your stories.” Soonyoung paused. “And I love them.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Was he-?

“I love you.”

Soonyoung gazed down at you with an uncertain look, his eyes searching your own for some kind of response. His heart hammered against his chest as he wondered if you felt the same way yet. 

You did. 

“I love you too, Soonyoung. And baby?”

“Hm?”

“That was so much better than your Shrek analogy.”

reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^-^

[hypnagogics]

SUPERBLOOD WOLFMOON → PROLOGUE

read this first! ▪︎ playlist ▪︎ series m.list ▪︎ next chapter

☆: honestly suuuper proud of how this came out ngl, please enjoy!! art in newspaper graphic drawn by the wonderful, amazing, multi-talented, freakin' incredible @sharkthrob ♡ ◇: sfw, both start out as young teens, ends with time skip to "present day", relatively mild (at least imo...idk) violence/gory descriptions, arachnophobia warning (lol), this is also a play on the "left behind" dlc!! ;) ♧: 2.2k wc

Summer, 2035

“60, 59, 58, 57….” The ambient droning of the abandoned mall’s timeworn neon lighting hung in the air as you stood against the old, mold-scented wall, the wallpaper peeling off in chunks, counting down the seconds as your best friend ran to find a hiding place. You could hear her gleeful giggles and pitter-patter of footfalls echo off the structure’s walls while she frantically searched for an effective crevice to stow herself away in, and break her losing streak once and for all.

Unbeknownst to you, Ellie had reached the complete opposite end of the building in no time at all, stumbling upon a crater in the floor, which opened up to the basement. “Fuck’s this?” She mumbles to herself, peering inside the inky darkness of the unexplored space, her sense of danger being overshadowed by the increasing curiosity, and your progressing countdown.

She idles for a moment debating whether to go inside because if she did, she’d definitely win, but there was also the possibility of getting hurt. She chooses to believe the former regardless. Glancing back in your direction one last time to make sure you weren't cheating and spying through your fingers, she hoists herself down, grunting as she falls harshly onto the damaged linoleum tiles.

Ellie winces as she gathers herself to stand, and takes in her surroundings. A long, eerie, brick-lined corridor extends further than she can see. If she is already here, might as well check it out, she reasons.

Stale air fills her lungs almost painfully, the heavy odor of mildew making her eyes water. Through the crack above she hears you finish the countdown and yell out, “I’m gonna get you!” She coughs, collects herself and begins running into the darkness, there was no way you’d find her down here.

“Shit, shit, shit gotta hide- what the…” She reaches the end of the unfamiliar hallway, ending up in a spacious but empty room, the walls covered in some sort of graffiti. She rubs at her eyes to clear them of any debris particles floating around, and so she could fully observe her surroundings once her eyes adjusted to the absence of light.

An abnormally large rat scurries over her feet, squeaking, making her jump and withhold a startled yelp. That was close, she almost gave away her location. Continuing to walk around the space, she observes the graffiti covering the brittle, withered walls. Splashes of vibrant color in an array of abstract forms stretching on, symbols and sigils of all kinds painted within. Jagged, angular glyphs, containing profanities scrawled in deranged strokes, vulgar phallic scribblings earning an immature chuckle from the girl as she continues to inspect the space, seemingly forgetting about the game of hide and seek entirely.

She’s left breathless when she reaches a peculiar piece of graffiti separate from the bulk of the rest, staring at it with wonder. Extraordinary, brilliant hues of color were painted on a mural spanning the whole side wall of the room, with what looked like a gargantuan spider painted in the center of it all. The illustration of the web seemed to sparkle, stand out and contrast the intimidating blackness of the room, the arachnid’s limbs painted with such precision where she couldn't spot a single mistake, as if it was created with machinery or similar.

Out of the corner of her eye she spots some movement, and from the shadows emerges an iridescent spider—the exact one painted—and it crawls along the mural until it stops right in front of her at eye level. She watches as its countless peepers bore into hers, utterly transfixed, unable to look away. Its body shines, reminding her of a scarab beetle. She wonders what kind it is, it’s completely unrecognizable and foreign to her, however big of an interest in bugs she has.

A sickly dread builds in the pit of her stomach, it’s only now dawned on her just how bad of an idea this was. She silently hopes you can hear her telepathic pleas, pick up on the panicked mantras she’s whispering under her breath and come save her from the mutant creature.

Budding panic rises in her chest, paralyzing her with fear, and she can't do anything apart from watch the eight-legged beast suddenly quadruple in size with a sharp crunch of its exoskeleton snapping, thin, twiggy legs turning muscular and strong, dagger-sharp spines ripping their way through the armor-like exterior, jutting out towards every direction. It has changed form entirely, resembling something that only exists in the confines of a comic book or science fiction film.

Ellie sucks in a harsh, shaky breath through her teeth and braces herself to quickly plan an exit, but before she has the chance to begin running, the arachnid’s jaws burst open, the sharp teeth gleaming as if they were made of a metal alloy. She didn't know spiders had teeth, or made any sounds, but she swore she heard it snarl, right before it leapt forward onto her with a speed faster than sound, tackling her onto the ground.

Adrenaline courses through her veins as she wrangles the spider, shrieking as it scratches and pierces her flesh wherever it can reach. It's feral, unlike anything she's ever seen or read about, its movements inharmonious, yet simultaneously neat and calculated. She’s miraculously dodging every strike, although growing weary rather quickly.

Finally, her instincts to fight kick in, and she frantically scans the room for a makeshift weapon. She’s holding the arachnid away from her, the sharp clashing of its jaws around the air echoing off the walls. Ellie squints, and in the dark she makes out some rusted pipes sticking out of the corner of the wall, and in a burst of strength shoves the creature off of her, bolting to grab the metal. It flies and crashes against the wall with a shrill squeal, its hideous form squirming to recover from the blow.

“Goddamnit, stupid SHIT."  She huffs breathlessly as she wrestles the metal, tugging with every morsel of her might to get it detach before the spider lunges again. The way she pushed it away left it stunned and bought her a mere smidgen of time to act, which she utilizes to strike the paralyzed creature. She hits it once, twice, and a third time, the lethal blow crushing it with a jarring smash.

The oversized spider’s limbs briefly twitch before stilling—oily, dark, navy blue blood pooling underneath its corpse. Ellie stands over it unsteadily, trying to catch her breath and process the fight she endured. All that against a spider. Where did that thing even come from? She didn't even wish to know at this point, and was just grateful she was alright.

She sways, before remembering why she ventured here in the first place—the game of hide and seek. You were still searching for her all around the upper floors of the mall, blissfully unaware of the chaos that just occurred below your feet. “Better get out of here.” Ellie mumbles into the dusty air, taking one last look at the ornamented walls of the room, and begins walking back to the main area where you were, emerging victorious in the game being the very last thing on her mind after all that. Even though she still achieved her goal.

With some difficulty she lifts herself out of the basement space into the main foyer of the mall, feeling fatigued, so she resorts to resting on the cool tiles momentarily to recuperate. 

Meanwhile, you were growing concerned about where she was, having searched every single nook and cranny you knew of to check, with no luck whatsoever. Having a bad feeling that something had happened to her, you return to the main area where the two of you agreed to meet at the end of the game if no one won, and were bewildered to find her laying on the ground.

“Ellie, where the hell were you?” You sprint to her side, almost tripping over a stray glass shard on the floor, and fall to your knees right next to her. She’s laying on her back, with a vague smile on her face. She opens her eyes and grins at you, chuckling at the fact she got her victory after all. “Heheh, you lost.”

You’re filled with relief that she’s fine, but beyond pissed at her for worrying you so much. Sighing, you stand up and nudge her side with your shoe, sputtering, “You idiot, I thought you died or something, what were you thinking?” Her expression falls the moment she sees how upset you got, so she sits up and points to the crack in the ground, trying to explain the situation.

“I was just in there, thought I'd go in there and see what's up, since we haven't been there before, but there’s nothing interesting, just an empty storage room. I promise.” She chews on her bottom lip, feeling rather guilty she’s decided to lie straight to your face like that, but wanted to minimize your worry as much as she could. She knows you’d freak if you heard what actually happened down there, and she wanted to just forget it.

Ellie sticks out her arm for you to pull her to her feet, only now taking notice of how many nicks, cuts and scratches she acquired in the ordeal, with some bizarre puncture wounds at the center of her forearm. Did it bite her? During the fight her focus wasn't anywhere apart from the creature attacking her, so she didn't feel it happen.

You notice her injuries at the same second she does, and open your mouth to say something about it, to lecture her for being reckless, but she beats you to it by stammering out a rapid clarification. “I’m fine, getting down there was a pain in the ass. The way in and out was a little sharp, that's all. We’ll just clean these, n’ I'll put some band-aids on, y’know.”

She avoids your suspicious glare and dusts herself off. “Let’s go back, I’m tired. Gotta enjoy my win. You gonna buy me some ice cream or somethin’? Think I deserve it. I'll even be generous enough to give you a bite!” She flashes you the signature toothy grin you’ve always loved so much, distracting from any residual suspicions you have about what she was up to. And so the two of you skipped out of the abandoned mall, never to return again.

Soon after your last time there, the mall was quickly scheduled for demolition due to “unpredictable and dangerous conditions.” You never ended up asking her if she ran into some trouble while hiding in the unexplored basement area, even though it remained a question in the back of your mind that surfaced whenever you caught a glimpse of the strange scar left on her forearm. Four round welts, perfect raised circles, placed as pairs opposite each other. One day you’d make her talk, but for now all you could do was be thankful that she was still with you, whatever may have happened during that game.

Winter, 2041

taggiesssss: @elliesexual @elliesbitchvenus @kawaiibreadbouquet-blog @williamellieslilho @flowrmoth @shestheheadlights @aouiaa @bready101 @shiimer @pascals-doll @boobdrug @starlight-savegery @vqxen @yk2enyx @seraphicsentences @k1ssesworld @lasting-lover @amberputh @syrenada @deliriousrn @corpsebridenightamare @seaseasalts

[veronicaphoenix]

until the stars stop shining | noah sebastian

previous part to all that's left, but it can be read as a one shot.

summary: noah and his girl spend an evening by the lake | words: 1.2k | reading time: 5mins

tags & trigger warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff. noah is an illustrator, reader loves baking cookies, mentions of noah having been reader's first, and that's it—they love each other a ton.

This is for the anon that asked for something sweet and fluffy after i posted All That's Left. I hope this does it. It's not actually a standalone work, but a sort of flashback belonging to the same story where All That's Left happens. I have a full plot developed in my head, but I can't tell if I'll ever write it and post it, so here goes this little thing where you get to know a little bit more of those characters and the story.

Thank you for all your constant love and support <3

 ͢ until the stars stop shining

Noah leaned back in the Muskoka chair, one leg lazily stretched out, balancing his sketchbook on his lap. He was shirtless, only wearing his bathing suit. For over an hour, he had been sketching, savoring the tranquil solitude offered by the lake, the warm caress of the late afternoon sun, and the rustling of leaves. Early fall was the perfect time for moments like this, when nature felt intimate and unhurried. Most of the tourists had long gone, leaving behind only the soft chorus of birds and the quiet murmur of waves licking the shore.

The breeze teased the pages of his sketchbook, carrying with it the crisp scent of pine needles and the rhythmic whisper of water against the rocks. Noah’s pencil glided in slow, thoughtful strokes as he tried to capture the scene before him, but his thoughts drifted constantly to his girl.

The door to the cottage creaked open right then, and she stepped outside. She carried a wooden tray filled with oat cinnamon cookies, their powdered sugar dusting glinting in the soft afternoon light. The sweet, comforting aroma mingled with the crisp air, making Noah smile to himself even without glancing back. 

She padded softly down the dock, her bare feet almost silent against the worn wood, and placed the tray on the armrest of his chair, her fingers grazing his shoulder in a brief, affectionate touch.

“I baked something,” she said, her voice carrying that familiar warmth. Of course she had. Baking was her favorite thing to do.  “Something sweet for my favorite artist.”

Noah grinned as he finally looked at her, his eyes catching on the spot of flour smeared across her nose. She had no idea it was there, and he decided not to tell her—she looked adorable like that.

“You need to refill your energy after working so hard for hours on end,” she pointed out as she glanced at the open sketchbook on his lap. 

Instead of reaching for a cookie, Noah broke off a small piece and gently brought it to her lips. Her smile widened as she took a bite, the sweetness melting on her tongue. A moment later, he let out a soft chuckle, reaching to brush a crumb off her lip with the pad of his thumb. His eyes lingered on her for a beat longer before dropping back to his half-finished sketch.

“I’m not half as good at drawing as you are at baking,” he admitted.

She tilted her head, glancing at the sketch. “This one looks pretty good to me, Noah.”

He smirked, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Wait until you see the one I did last night, after you fell asleep on the couch.”

“Why do you find it so entertaining to draw me?”

His gaze softened as he looked back at her. “Because you’re my favorite subject.”

That’s when he bopped her nose, making the flour stain disappear.

Her grin was bright and effortless as she leaned over the back of his chair, wrapping her arms around his neck. She rested her chin on his shoulder, close enough to feel his warmth. “And you’re my favorite person to bake for,” she whispered.

Noah’s cheeks flushed slightly at her words, a rare blush coloring his usually composed expression. She kissed the warm skin of his left cheek, lingering for just a moment before pulling away with a satisfied smile. She wandered toward the edge of the dock, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden planks. She sat down, her legs hanging off the edge.

Noah watched her for a moment, admiring how the wind gently tousled her hair and the way the light danced off her skin. The contentment in her posture, the way her eyes reflected the colors of the setting sun—everything about this moment felt perfect.

“You ever gonna let me teach you how to swim?” Noah asked.

She hesitated for a moment, her gaze fixed on the water before she responded quietly, “I don’t know... I’m still a bit scared of it.” She dipped her feet a little deeper, letting the cool water lap around her ankles. “But... I love being here. With you.”

The memory of that first visit just the two of them was vivid in both their minds. This was Jolly’s cottage, the same place where Noah and her had meet back when she was still fourteen and he was eighteen. They had spent countless of weekends and birthdays and fourths of July in this very same place. But nothing had been as special as the weekend Noah convinced Jolly to let him stay with her, alone. It had been six years since then, and even now, the memory of taking her virginity—in Jolly’s bed—was still as clear as water.  

Noah watched as the wind played with her hair, blowing soft strands across her face. He picked up his sketchbook again, unable to resist capturing her in this moment—the peacefulness, the effortless beauty. His pencil moved in quick, steady strokes as he sketched her sitting at the edge of the dock, her feet in the water, the sun casting an orange glow over the horizon. He knew that one day, he would marry this girl. There was no question in his mind.

Once satisfied with the drawing, Noah quietly set his sketchbook aside and rose from the chair. He walked over to her with slow, deliberate steps, his heart swelling as he took in the sight of her in this perfect, secluded spot. Without warning, he bent down, pretending to lift her by the underarms as if he were about to toss her into the water.

She yelped in surprise, her heart leaping as she felt her feet lift off the dock. “Noah!” 

Before she could fully react, Noah pulled her back into his arms, turning her around to face him. She clung to him, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, her arms tightening around his neck, her pulse racing from the surprise.

“Don’t you dare!” she gasped, breathless from both fear and thrill, burying her face against his neck.

Noah laughed with her, holding her close, feeling her warm breath against his skin. “I wouldn’t let you go that easily,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

Still holding her, Noah carried her over to the blanket they had left spread out on the dock earlier. He gently laid her down, her body sinking into the soft fabric, and then settled beside her. 

“Don’t you ever,” she started to say, “ever, let me drown, Noah Sebastian.”

“Never ever,” he promised, showing her his pinky finger. 

She laced it with hers and finally, she let out a heavy sigh and cuddled closer to him, nuzzing her cheek against his bare shoulder. 

They lay close, facing each other, their fingers lazily tracing along each other’s arms and faces. Neither spoke for a long while. Her fingers trailed down his chest while his hand rested lightly on her hip. Above them, the stars began to appear, one by one, until the sky was a dark, glittering canvas. The moon’s reflection shimmered on the water.

“How long will you love me?” Noah asked, his voice barely louder than the breeze.

She gazed at him, eyes warm and steady. She placed the most tender of kisses on his lips.

“Until the stars stop shining.”

[my-darling-boy]

It’s horrible how my design course has killed my enjoyment in creativity because all they want is finished pieces founded in nothing but a spontaneous mark just to hang at some concrete art gallery or to sell to some “join our revolution” comfy business-casual company with a prison cell wellness room. I’m not saying that it’s “not art” —cos that’s a different post altogether— it’s that the ethos behind this particular formula for art education is ruining the way we think about creation.

Design courses (and other art courses I’ve heard?) are no longer teaching artists or designers techniques, drawing skills, art fundamentals and allowing them to find their own voice so much as they are only instructing how to tic boxes alongside pushing corporate and classist motivated style/methodology bias aimed at producing workers, not creatives, not to mention providing Adobe with endless funds for their despicable scam programs. That’s it. My creativity is only a means to money for them, and if they can extract the process of creation from me without the complex creative intimacy involved in it, they know they can churn out products and services faster and it’s concerning some lecturers don’t seem to be aware this is what they’re teaching? Like they’re buying into industry propaganda?

And the whole time it’s sold to you like you can be some trailblazer when the irony is they’re usually either prepping you for cubicle work or for some misguided high horse creative team pumping out design solutions completely divorced from the reality. I’m tired of all the talks about sustainability in a vacuum with no conversation about nuanced designs that factor in broader social and economic perspectives which lack thereof is leading to sustainable products being sold at a price only able to be afforded by wealthier people who are causing said economic and social problems and contributing to the rapid obsoletion of trades and crafts. Lecturers and speakers don’t seem to think that’s any of our concern and should just worry about producing the design for the hypothetical Bluetooth powered organic hairbrush or using the twigs to make the pattern for the £85 fabric square.

Like? Can I please make something that actually resonates with people outside the circle jerk of egotistical creatives and corporations? Something charming and maybe idk something that doesn’t make me want to tear my miserable portfolio in half with my teeth? And they’re like Mm nope sorry it has to be an extreme close up of a mark making abstract leaf you made from a recycled trash bag inspired by a stalled urban space which we will force you to price at £100 during your exhibition 5 people will bother to attend and no you’re not allowed any other style cos this isn’t the Dark Ages :///

I think the worst thing my lecturer ever said was, while looking around the room of our class work reduced down to a series of cubes and splatters and abstract typography, “Wow, I love how you can’t tell what anyone’s [main artist discipline] is!” Like awww conformity at the expense of a person’s individuality to make pieces for airport hallways and rich people’s living rooms wow so cool heehee like girl that’s not good?? Why on Earth are you complimenting us for that? Like I get it, I thought this course would boost skillset as an illustrator (as we were told), turns out the degree is really not for me, fair enough to anyone thinking that, but forcing students to produce modern abstract art because you think it’s the ONLY Logical Pathway for the future of design, judging them intensely for doing a different style, and thinking producing financially inaccessible art + design is the solution to things like climate change and community severance is an objectively bad take.

[sluttyten]

toying with you

Kinktober Masterlist | Xiaojun Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: magical dildo, masturbation, cumming untouched, blowjobs, getting caught(?), voyeurism

length: 2973 words

Rather early on in the relationship, you’d revealed to Xiaojun the truth about you. You were a witch. Not the stereotypical spooky kind of witch illustrated in Halloween decorations and horror movies. You described it to him as being like a Harry Potter kind of witch, to which Xiaojun had immediately begun asking you Harry Potter related questions to gauge exactly what you meant. 

What you meant was that you were raised in a family of magic-users. All the women in your family were witches, all the men were wizards.

Magic was an everyday part of your life growing up, and you were homeschooled with your siblings and some of the other magical kids in your town until you reached your early teen years when you went away to a magical boarding school to learn more about your magic, to learn to control it and enhance it. So quite a lot like the Harry Potter series but without the evil wizards trying to disrupt the school year, and to your eternal disappointment (and Xiaojun’s, once you tell him) dragons still aren’t real. 

So he knows about your incredible magical powers. Xiaojun knows and frequently takes advantage of the opportunities that having a magical partner presents him. 

The power of invisibility, the power to teleport yourself from one place to the next, to summon things. You can clone things exactly. You can send him secret messages that no one else has the ability to read. Once you performed a spell that let you both share a dream, which had led to some pretty crazy and otherwise impossible sex. 

Sometimes the magic makes it easier when you’re doing long distance — when he’s traveling with the members for tour or whatever — or even when he’s just super busy with schedules and you never get any time together. 

But the easiest and best thing about your magic is when you make a magical replica of Xiaojun’s dick. 

He came over to your place very late one night after a long, exhausting schedule. As he stepped fresh and warm and damp from the shower to snuggle into bed with you, wrapping you in his arms, he’d apologized that he was gone so often. “I’m sorry, baby. I know I’m not taking care of you like I should.” 

You hardly ever got time together while he was working on their upcoming album release, and during what little time you got, he was too tired to want to have sex. You understood. That’s what your favorite toys were for, but it’s just not the same as having your boyfriend inside you, a flesh and blood hard penis. Your silicone toys just can’t satisfy you in the same way. 

“I’m sorry,” Xiaojun apologizes again, yawning sleepily, not even able to open his eyes. “You deserve more than just your toys. As soon as this album is finished I’m locking myself in here with you, and no one is allowed to disturb us until we can’t take anymore of each other.” 

He smiles still without opening his eyes when you kiss his cheek. “Wouldn’t it be nice if there were two of you? One of you could go to work, and the other could stay here with me, fuck me right, let me take you out on dates.”

Xiaojun hums pleasantly. “Or you at least wish I could leave my cock behind?”

You laugh, and comb your fingers through his hair. “That would be interesting. Use it like a toy while you’re away.”

“Sounds like fun, baby.” Xiaojun mumbles, yawning once more. “I would love that.”

Within seconds, he’s asleep, snoring softly as he holds you close. You should be right behind him in falling asleep, but the mental imagery of what you had just been talking about keeps playing over and over in your mind. And the more you think about it, the more you want it. And the more you want it, your brain begins plotting a spell to make it reality. 

You don’t steal Xiaojun’s penis. You leave it fully attached, unlike in that silly scenario. But you sit up and peel back the covers, looking down at your boyfriend’s bare body. Xiaojun’s eyebrows draw together a little at the cooler air on his skin, at the sound of your voice, and the flicker of light sparks of magic between your fingers. You whisper the spell, move your hands, and you study his dick as you form the replica. You want it to be exact. 

And within the next half hour, you have it. 

An exact working replica of Xiaojun’s dick. A magical replica. 

You put it in your bedside drawer then turn over and go back to snuggling with your boyfriend, falling asleep moments later. 

It’s a few days later, days painstakingly spent without Xiaojun, that you finally remember what you’d done that night. You forgot about the magical dildo you’d created and stuffed out of sight. And today you’re horny and missing your boyfriend, so instead of resorting to one of your typical vibrators, you settle into your bed and tug your new toy out of its hiding spot. 

It truly is just a duplicate of Xiaojun’s dick. It’s been left in the drawer, untouched, unused for days now, so as you bring him out into the light of day, he’s soft, looking a little sad and deflated. But as you lie down in your bed and look at it, as you study it up close, stroking your fingers along it and tentatively suck the tip into your mouth, you find that this toy dick reacts a lot like the real one. It feels just like him too, the weight and feel and taste of him is just the same. 

Slowly, but surely, Xiaojun’s cloned dick starts to fill out beneath your tender touches and salacious sucking. You’re playing, enjoying your time as you suck at the dick how you want, treating him like a lollipop more than anything, honestly. And you begin to wonder, can this magical dildo that acts so realistic reach climax? Can your dildo cum?

You do your damn best to find out. 

You’re lying there alone in your bed, sucking cock, with your pussy throbbing, so you start to play with yourself too. Touching your tits, sliding your fingers down between your pussy lips, gliding a teasing finger around your clit. You moan around the cloned cock, push it in a little deeper, and you swallow around it. You pull in the base of it, drawing it out of your lips a bit before plunging it back in. 

Fuck, it feels good when you’re choking around a replica of your boyfriend’s cock as you plunge two fingers into your pussy, needing to feel something. You pull the dildo out by the base, keeping your lips tight around the shaft, pausing with the tip of the toy still between your lips, you flick your tongue against the slit a few times, wishing this was really Xiaojun’s cock, wishing that he was moaning and leaking salty precum on your tongue, wishing that his hands were in your hair to shove your throat back down around his cock. 

But he’s not here, so you have to do it yourself. 

You gag only a little as you plunge the dildo all the way in, deep-throating the toy. It twitches on your tongue, and that’s the only warning you get before the dildo is cumming, shooting spurts of cum down your throat. You choke but keep trying to swallow, dragging the dildo back out of your mouth slowly, you keep sucking and licking, and the poor thing keeps cumming until at last you pull it out of your mouth so you can breathe. 

It really, really is a magical duplicate. You didn’t expect it would be able to cum. Especially not that much. And it tastes exactly right too. 

The familiar flavor of Xiaojun’s cum is heavy on your tongue as you swallow again. You’re not finished yet. 

You don’t let the dildo go soft. You keep stroking it, spit on it, and suck at the tip again. 

Your pussy is in desperate need at this point. You’re soaking wet down there even as your mouth is drooling for more too, whines of pure neediness spilling from your lips as you stroke the dildo back to full hardness. 

Fuck are you glad you did this. 

You need Xiaojun’s cock, and thanks to your incredible witchy powers, that’s exactly what you’ve got even though your boyfriend is halfway across the city. 

You suck on the tip of the dildo as you lower one of your hands down to circle your clit, to dip your fingers inside yourself, getting yourself nice and ready to be filled with the replica dildo. Your pussy is so ready for it when you finally bring the dildo from your mouth to down between your legs. But you don’t want the teasing to be over and done with just yet, so when you take the dildo in, you only give yourself a little. 

Just the shallow thrust of the magical dildo into your pussy. Barely more than the tip just resting inside of you. You swirl your fingers against your clit, the other hand you’ve got holding the dildo, using it to shallowly fuck the fake cock into you while you focus on your clit, while your pussy tries to pull the familiar shape of Xiaojun in deeper. 

When your bedroom door suddenly crashes open, revealing Xiaojun framed in the doorway, you freeze. 

“What are you doing?” He gasps, his voice loud but not angry as he staggers into the room. “What the fuck are you doing to me, baby? I was working, in the middle of the meeting when suddenly I was rock hard and throbbing, feeling like you were kneeling under the table sucking me off.” 

Xiaojun staggers towards the bed, and you can see now the bulge in the front of his pants, a darker stain there too, like he’d cum in his pants. 

He stops at the foot of the bed, staring at you, staring at the dildo in your hand. 

“You did it?” Xiaojun asks, slowly raising his gaze up from the dildo you’ve got teasing your pussy, up your body to your face. His gaze latches onto yours. “You found a way to keep my dick at home for some fun?”

You nod. “I didn’t realize it was still like… connected. I didn’t realize you’d feel everything, Dejun, or I swear I wouldn’t have done it.”

Xiaojun makes an aborted noise. His hands curl tight around the edge of the footboard of your bed. “It was so hot, though. I immediately left the meeting, hid in the restroom. When Kun came to find me, I pretended like I was sick, actively ill, so they luckily dismissed me from the meeting, and thank fuck they did. Oh my god, my manager drove me here, and I think he probably thought I was dying in the backseat. I couldn’t keep still, couldn’t keep quiet. All I could feel was your perfect lips around my cock, baby, your tongue and your warm mouth, sucking me off so good. And then I came in my fucking pants.” Xiaojun laughs. “The manager had to ask me if I was okay, and I’m a little worried I’ve probably traumatized him when he looked back there and saw me glassy-eyed and curled over my lap, moaning and breathing heavy.”

You want to move down the bed, to put your hands on Xiaojun, reel him in for a kiss. He’s looking at you right now like he’s a man starved, and you’re all he wants to eat. 

“Baby, I didn’t stop feeling you on me. Your hands and your lips, and as soon as he put the car in park, I threw myself out of the car and ran in here. Fuck. I had to see you. And here you are, fucking yourself with my cock.”

You whimper, and your hand twitches on the base of the dildo, pushing him in a little deeper. 

Xiaojun moans at the end of the bed. His knuckles go white from holding on so tightly to the footboard. 

“Go on,” he tells you, his voice gruff. “Put it in yourself, baby. I want to watch you use my cock. Fuck your pussy like you wish you had all of me.”

He stands there, watching as you push the replica of his cock all the way in. You’re wet enough that he slides right in, hugged snug by your pussy. Wet enough that you know Xiaojun can see your wetness glistening along the length of his cloned cock as you pull it out just to thrust it back in. Again and again. Your legs twitch, toes curling. You can’t keep quiet, can’t decide if you’d rather watch the dildo disappearing into your pussy or if you’d rather watch Xiaojun as he strips at the end of the bed and stands there watching you while he’s rock hard. He doesn’t touch himself, but he doesn’t have to. He can feel everything you’re doing to the dildo, and you can see his cock reacting, can see how Xiaojun’s body rocks forward slightly like he’s sinking into you, how his rigid cock drips shiny beads of precum. 

You particularly love the way Xiaojun reacts when you yank the dildo out of you and bring it up to your lips, quickly sucking the combined taste of your arousal and his wet precum off, rolling the flavor of his cock across your tongue. 

“Fuck, baby, this feels unreal. Wish you knew just how crazy this feels, to see what you’re doing, to feel it all. It’s different than normal, more intense.” Xiaojun moans and rocks his hips forward into nothing while you suck at the tip of the dildo. “Insane. Please put it back in your pussy. I wanna feel you, wanna see it.”

You obey, happy to fuck his cock again, plunging it back into your pussy while you run at your clit, knowing that you’re getting close, feeling the tingle of climax beginning to spread through you, your heart racing in your chest. 

“Come on,” Xiaojun encourages you. “You look so sexy right now, baby. I’m gonna cum again, but not until you do.”

Something inside you snaps, the thin restraint holding you back. Your climax tears through you, racing through every vein and in your bones. You keep your hold on the base of the dildo, thrusting it continuously while you’re cumming, your fingers still moving on your clit too, and you’re squirting a little around the cloned cock. 

“So hot. Need to be inside you, baby. For real.” Xiaojun groans and climbs onto the bed, his weight shifting the balance around as he moves towards you. The dildo shifts and you moan. Xiaojun almost falls forward. “I want to cum in you, baby. Can I?” 

You nod. “Yes. Pretty please, Dejun. Need it.”

You drag the dildo out, leaving your pussy open for Xiaojun to quickly refill. He sinks right into you. 

As good as it was having his exact replica inside of you, it still doesn’t compare to actually having Xiaojun. To feel him pressed hard and hot inside of you, the heat of his body settling between your thighs, his eyes on you, his hands on your body. 

The dildo in your hand twitches, maybe feeling neglected now. 

You turn your head to the side, and you bring it back to your lips. 

“Oh, fuck!” Xiaojun thrusts falter. “That is…. That’s a whole new feeling. Oh, shit.” He moans again as you suck off the dildo, as Xiaojun fucks into you. You wonder what he’s feeling right now, and whatever it is must be good. 

He cums, filling your pussy while the dildo cums across your tongue and down your throat. 

You let the dildo fall away, and Xiaojun’s cum drips from your lips, down your chin. You can tell by the look in his eyes that Xiaojun is awestruck, is in love.

He lurches forward to kiss you right as you loop your arms around the back of his neck to drag him in. 

You crash together, moaning into the kiss as Xiaojun tastes himself on your tongue, as he rolls his hips forward, filling you again and again with his cock while he fits a hand between your bodies to touch your clit until you’re falling apart beneath him, your orgasm stealing your breath away entirely. 

“Oh, God,” you sigh when Xiaojun breaks away. 

He falls into his side, facing you. “That was crazy good. Really, like it was insane. The things I was feeling. It was layered, so complex I can’t even try to explain it.” Xiaojun reaches across you and he picks up the dildo from where you left it, a strange expression on his face as he watches it go soft. “Weird, but not in a bad way.”

“Good.” You lean in and kiss him again. “Because I will definitely be using it again. It’s still not as good as actually having you here, but it’s a hell of a lot better than my regular toys.”

Xiaojun lays a kiss on your forehead. “Maybe you should make a clone of your pussy, let me have some fun so you can experience it.” 

You laugh, but damn, your boyfriend has some good ideas. Even a couple hours later after you’ve showered off and are doing things to at least pretend like you don’t want to just stay in bed with Xiaojun, all you can think about is what he’s said earlier. 

Maybe you will have to make him a clone of your pussy, an exact replica so you can see what all the fuss was about. 

a/n: I really wanted to write most of these kinktober prompts, and now that I'm actually like 11 days (or something like that) behind on them, I might keep posting them even after the month is over, but we'll see how that goes. I really wanted to write this Xiaojun one though because I've had this idea for ages ever since I saw this video on Twitter where this girl's dildo just really looked pretty realistic imo, and it's also quite inspired by The Magical Kundini series on AO3 (a Kun/Ten/YangYang relationship, so don't read it if you don't like that)

If you notice any errors or if you feel I should include some more tags/content warnings, please let me know!

I hope you enjoyed! Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome!

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 8)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: With one month of sobriety back under his belt, Rafe feels like his life is finally falling into place.

Masterlist

Rafe’s one-month sobriety is finally coming up and to say that Stella is excited is an understatement. Y/N explained to Stella that Daddy hadn’t shown symptoms of his sickness for a month, much like cancer remission. Stella doesn’t fully understand the milestone her father is about to achieve, but she knows a party for celebration should be held. So she insisted to her mother that they throw a surprise party. Y/N closed down the diner so it could be held there and Stella wanted a superhero party because Rafe is her hero. “Mommy, the banner needs to be higher,” Stella orders, moving her hands up to illustrate her point. Y/N nods and motions to Sarah to do as told. Nobody says anything about the fact that the sign says Happy Birthday on it. Once the little girl gives her approval, John B. comes over to help them tape the string to the wall. Thanks to the party, Stella got the opportunity to meet her aunt’s fiancé and her dad’s friends. Topper finishes placing out the snacks, picking Stella up to get her approval.

“What do you think?” he asks, resting her on his waist. She nods with satisfaction, “Good, Uncle Topper. Can I have a chocolate, please?” She looks around the room to make sure the last part is only heard by her uncle. “Okay, but don’t tell Mommy I gave it to you before you had lunch,” he chuckles, leaning over to grab her one. 

Half an hour later, the diner is set up for the surprise superhero party. Rafe texted Y/N that he was five minutes away and everyone went to their hiding spots. Stella and Y/N are hiding at the front of the counter so they are the first people he sees. As soon as the little bell jingles, the lights turn on and everyone pops up from their hiding places, yelling surprise. Rafe steps back a little, tripping on his feet and falling out of the door. “Daddy!” Stella worries, trying to jump over the counter to check on her father but is stopped by her mother. Rafe shoots up from the floor, “I’m okay. I’m okay, little witch.” He rushes to Stella, bringing her over the counter to comfort her. Her tiny cries die down at the feeling of his lips on her temple. He rubs her shoulders, bouncing her a little. The Happy Birthday sign causes him even more confusion. “But it isn’t my birthday?” he whispers to Y/N. She giggles, “She wanted to celebrate your one-month sobriety. Don’t worry, she doesn’t know what it really means. And they didn’t have any superhero signs celebrating sobriety.” Rafe nods in understanding, giving Stella another kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the party, little witch. I love it. Forever and Always,” he thanks. Stella beans at her father’s words, “Forever and Always.” “Baby, why don’t you tell Daddy why you wanted a superhero-themed party?” Y/N suggests. Stella looks at her dad, “Because you're my hero!” Rafe’s heart absolutely melts. 

Rafe does his rounds, greeting everyone at his party. “Your girl is great, Rafe,” Topper comments, patting Rafe on the back. Rafe looks over at Y/N, “Yeah, she really is.” Topper sees the dad’s line of sight and laughs. “I was talking about your daughter. But I see you still have a crush on your baby mama.” “Don’t call her that,” Rafe threatens. His friend’s hands shoot up and he walks back with an apology. 

“Daddy, time to play the games!” Stella announces, grabbing his hand. He lets her take him to the poster on the wall. Pin the cape on the superhero. Stella goes first, getting the cape right where it should be with a little guidance from her dad. It is obvious to everyone but the little girl that the adults purposely did bad so she could win. The next party activity is decorating superhero masks, which the adults love. “Wow, Daddy. Your mask is pretty,” Stella awes. Rafe smiles at his little girl, “Thank you. I made it for you.” He helps her put the mask on and she hands him hers to put on. Y/N’s heart pounds at the sight before her, taking a picture of the pair. Rafe spots the piñata and his interest is peaked. Y/N notes his gaze, “We can do the piñata now if you want.” He nods, getting up with Stella in his arms. Of course, she goes first and when she gets pouty about not being able to break it open, Rafe hits it open for her. The candy falls out and she squeals in happiness. 

The pizza finally arrives and then the cake is next. Stella thinks that whenever there is a cake at a party, the guest of honour has to blow out candles. So everyone sings Happy Birthday, per Stella’s request, and watches him blow out the candles. Once he gets the candles out, Stella shoves her father’s head into the cake with a laugh. Rafe’s head straightens out and he gives her a fake annoyed look. Her giggles continue so he gives her a kiss on the cheek, getting frosting all over it. He can see Y/N snicker as well and gives her the same treat. She takes it a little less like a champ and gives a small yell, running away from Rafe. He laughs, chasing after her to bother her some more. “It’s just a little frosting, Buttercup. It won’t hurt you,” he teases, finally catching up to her. 

Y/N doesn’t like it. The little flutter in her heart as he wraps his hand around her waist and blows raspberries on her neck, frosting going everywhere. “Button, stop it,” she whines, bringing her ear close to her shoulder to stop his attack. He stops at her plea, grabbing a napkin from the counter to wipe the mess he made away. She never ceases to be surprised at how sweet and considerate Rafe can be sometimes. Her lips find his cheeks as a thanks for his help. 

——

The party soon comes to an end and everyone helps bring down the decoration. Stella wanted so many decorations that Rafe had to take some stuff in his car and bring it over to Y/N’s house for her. The house is quiet as she opens the front door, holding it open for Rafe. The little gremlin that normally fills these walls with screams is sleeping over at her Aunt Sarah’s house for the night. She had begged to be able to stay the night for the first time, especially since Sarah promised sugar and a spa night with John B. as their servant. “Where can I put this?” he asks, showing her the box of extra cutlery and plates. She points to the counter, “You can just leave everything in the living room. I’ll go through it all tomorrow morning. I’m way too tired to think about it tonight.” 

They get all the boxes in the middle of the living room and flop down on the couch together. Y/N reaches into her pocket and pulls something out. “In all of Stella’s excitement this afternoon, I forgot to give this back to you. Kinda ironic that I forgot since it was the whole reason for the party. It’s like going to a birthday party and not celebrating the birthday person,” she explains, handing Rafe the small disc back. He holds his hand out, “Thank you. It’s okay. We all know the party was really for Stella.” “Yeah, that’s true.” Y/N’s fingers ghost his as she places the chip into his hands. Her eyes dart up to see him already staring at her. The moment of silence that passes over them isn’t awkward; instead, they seem to be communicating everything they have been feeling for each other. Rafe takes the shot they are both too scared to take and leans in. His lips find hers. He almost sighs in relief when she starts to kiss him back.

Her leg swings over his hips and she starts kissing down his neck. His head throws back, allowing her more access to his neck. His hands find a way to her waist to encourage her to start grinding on his lap. Her hands find the top button of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning them one at a time. She gets the front of his shirt open and she pulls his shirt off. Her kisses turn into licking a long stripe down to his v-line. She gives a quick kiss just above his pants before breaking away from his skin so she can pull his pants down. With the rest of his clothes off, she gets to work at making him feel good. Her lips start to move down his shaft, using her tongue to circle around his tip as she would soft-serve ice cream. “You are going so good for me, Rafe,” she praises. She reaches between her folds to collect some of her juices to lessen the friction of her hands pumping the rest of his cock. When that isn’t enough, she pulls away, a string of saliva connecting his tip to the bottom of her lip and spits on her hands. “Y/N, faster. Please, good girl, go faster,” Rafe pants, gently pushing her head down his dick. Tears begin to form in her eyes as she chokes on him and his twitching cock tells her he is about to cum. 

His fingers lace through her hair, “I’m about to cum.” Right as he says the words, ropes of white shoot out of him and into her mouth. She swallows everything while looking directly into his eyes. He grins at her, grabbing her hips to pull her back up. His back slides down the couch, arching so his body is off but his head is at the edge of the cushion. The position may be uncomfortable, but what he is about to do makes up for it. He brings her over his face and immediately gets to work. His hand flicks her skirt over his head, moving her underwear out of the way as well. 

He kisses her clit before he starts sucking the bud. His tongue works in tandem with his lips to cause her head to throw back in pleasure. “Ugh, just like that, Rafe.” She can feel his cocky smirk against her and starts to grip his hair. His mouth moves to her hole, darting his tongue inside of her. The circular motion of his tongue quiets her moans, so he brings his finger up to her clit. This garners a response as she starts to grind against his face. “There you go, Y/N. Tell me what you want. Take what you need,” he mumbles, going back to pleasuring her. Her moans are louder than they were before, “Rafe, I’m going to- to.” She doesn’t get to finish as her orgasm washes over her. They both take a second to catch their breath. She gets off of his face and stands off the couch. Motioning for him to sit down. His eyebrows knit as she heads to her purse to pull her phone out. He quickly understands when the music starts “Sweat” by Zayn starts to play. 

Her hips start to move to the music, pulling her shirt off her head to reveal her lacey blue bra underneath. She moves herself back onto his lap and starts grinding. Her hands round her back to unhook her bra. He helps her out of it, kissing the top of her breasts. He wants to suck her nipples, but she removes herself from his hold. She pulls off her skirt, taking her time with her underwear to tease him. She dangles the pair on her fingers waving it in front of his face. Rafe grabs it and throws it across the room in annoyance. She giggles. “Come here,” he growls, pulling her in by the waist. His hands play with her boobs and his mouth works on making a hickey on her neck. She gets to work on making sure he is hard enough to take her. Once she is satisfied, she positions him at her entrance and sinks down. His attention is pulled from what he is doing and he lets out the loudest moan he has ever. He grips her waist helping her up and down on him. Her head throws back, “Harder, Rafe.” He can do nothing but obey, bringing her until his tip is about to slip out and slams her down on him. His hips buck up to meet her movements. She continues to move on him, sometimes stopping at the bottom of his shaft to swirl her hips. He notices her eyes closed like she normally does close to her climax and presses down firmly but softly on her stomach, just below her belly button. This causes her to squeal as her climax comes early and she wants to hide in embarrassment as a waterfall amount of liquid leaves her body. The contraction of her pussy around him sends him over the edge, shooting his seed into her. She gets off of his dick and collapses onto him. Her head buries in his neck. His arms bring her impossibly closer to him and he kisses her forehead. 

“You squirted on me,” he is finally able to breathe out after a few seconds. She nods slowly, “I did. I’ve never done that before.” He grins to himself and looks down at his now soft cock, realizing he isn’t wearing a condom. They got so caught up in the moment that they forgot. “Shit, I’m not wearing a condom,” he points out to her. She nuzzles herself into his chest, kissing his collarbone, “It’s okay. We used one last time and look where that got us.” 

“Where it got us is with an adorable daughter who we love so much. I’ll Uber the morning after pill tomorrow morning for you.” 

She wants to respond, but she falls asleep before she can. He is about to get up off the couch to clean them up, but sleep captures his state as well. 

——

Rafe wakes up in the middle of the night to a kink in his neck from falling asleep sitting upright. Y/N is still in his arms, her breath falling steadily. He kisses the hickey he made on her neck and brings one arm around her bum, the other around the shoulder. He rises slowly to make sure she doesn’t fall, heading toward her bedroom. Her head softly hits her pillow with his help. He kisses her forehead and heads to the bathroom. The towel in his hand is slightly damp upon his return to her bedside. He gently opens her legs and wipes away the dried arousal on her thighs. He throws the towel into the hamper, not bothering to put clothes on him because of the summer heat. He pulls the light blanket on top of them and cuddles into her back. 

——

Y/N wakes up in Rafe’s arms. She doesn’t remember heading to her bedroom, so he must have brought them here. Her blanket is pulled at the foot of her bed, leaving both of their naked glory available to anyone’s sight. She turns in his arms to find his eyes still closed. She gives a soft smile, leaning up to give him a kiss on the nose. This causes his eyes to flutter open with a massive grin and return the kiss but on the lips. “Last night was spectacular,” he whispers, resting his forehead on hers. She nods, “It was. Just as great as the last time. I can’t believe it took us five years to do that again.” 

“Me too. I should’ve gone after you. Actually, I should’ve gotten sober sooner, then we could’ve had those five years together. I could’ve been there for you and Stella.”

“Yeah, but that’s okay. You found your way back to us eventually.”

“I did I want to stay in bed with you all day. Like we should’ve all those years ago.”

“We can, I’ll text your sister to ask her to keep Stella for the day. I’m sure they would both love that idea. They can continue plotting to take over the world.”

Rafe laughs, grabbing his phone and hers. “That sounds amazing. And I’ll Uber the pill for us. Do you think I can get them to bring it to your bedroom? I can’t stand the thought of leaving you for a second.” She chuckles at his words, “That really would be the dream, but I don’t like the thought of a stranger in my house. And I highly doubt you would like the idea of them seeing me naked because I don’t plan to get up either.” “I would not. I guess I’ll get up when the doorbell rings,” he agrees. Y/N shoots forward when she sees Sarah’s text that they are on their way. She is about to get out of her bed to get changed, but the door is thrown open and Y/N screams at the sight of her daughter and hopefully (very distant) future sister-in-law. Rafe leans over to cover them with the blanket while Sarah covers Stella’s eyes. 

“Stella, why don’t you show me your room?” Sarah suggests, guiding her niece to the other bedroom. The couple can overhear their daughter’s words, “What were Mommy and Daddy doing naked?” Y/N’s face finds a place in his neck, trying to hide the mortification on her face. “Please tell me that our daughter did not just walk in on us naked after an amazing night of sex,” she begs, looking at her with worried eyes. He shakes his head, “I’m sorry, Buttercup. I can’t.” “God, this is going to be so awkward to explain,” she groans, sitting back on the bed. The doorbell rings and Rafe scrambles out of bed. “Well, Buttercup. I’m sorry to say, but you might have to do that explanation alone. I have some medication to get.” He doesn’t seem to realize he is still naked. “Button, you’re still naked,” she calls out. He is quick to get back into her room to put some clothes on, “Shit, my clothes are in the living room.”

——

After Rafe has to run to get his clothes so his daughter doesn’t see him and an afternoon of trying to explain the adult game Y/N and Rafe were playing, Rafe is finally ready to go back home. Stella is too busy watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch, so it gives her parents a second to talk to themselves. “I was thinking… Maybe we can go on a date?” Y/N asks, bringing her nail up to her mouth so she can bite it. Her eyes are on her hands and he lifts her chin so she can look in her eyes. “I would love that,” he mutters, kissing her lips. They pull apart with a smile. Finally, Stella comes running to say goodbye to her father. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya @optimisticsandwichgladiator @justdamnpeachy

[caffedrine]

Matias Asbrink - Fake Lovers for a Day - Event Summary

This is mostly a summary for me - I make no promises on the accuracy of what’s happening. I’m not nearly fluent enough to get half the jokes/innuendo much less accurate plot points.

As a warning - this event goes into some dark things with Matias. Beware.

Matias, the First Prince of Achroite, the Land of Snow and Laws was a serious man who deeply respects the laws. Yes, he has some rather eccentric aspects to his personality, but deep down, he was honest and good. However, when he appears in court as a Judge, he only embodies the face of the cold impartial justice of the law. 

After finishing her role as Belle with no romantic entanglements, Emma went to Achroite with Akatsuki. Akatsuki, too young to be her father, travels around various countries to their bookstores, buying and selling rare and valuable books. 

Since coming to Achroite, Emma has grown accustomed to the sight of snow falling like flower petals, but the sight still makes her heart jump with joy. Snow was rare in her home country of Rhodolite, so she has never had a chance to get used to the fairytale scenery. Then again, the person who truly looks like he stepped out of a fairytale illustration is walking next to her.

Up close, Matias looks even more fantastical, with hair the color of fading twilight and eyes the color of snow in the shadows. His aura is as pure and beautiful as the white snow falling around them.

Matias notes that Emma has been exploring parts of the city and asks if she has some favorite places yet. 

While marveling over how approachable and personable he is, Emma tells him about a bookstore in the center of town. She’s been visiting almost every day and can’t stop. Matias recognizes the place; he’s been visiting it since he was a schoolboy. They both agree that the owner is what makes it so welcoming, with his cheerful, friendly, and all-around decent persona. 

Emma heard recently from the bookstore owner about a museum that specializes in romantic exhibits. She asks if Matias has ever been there.

Unfortunately, no. It’s a relatively new museum, but the owner is an eccentric with particular requirements for people to even enter. For one, all his customers must be in a romantic relationship, and come as a couple. 

Since Matias is single, and unless he misunderstood, Emma is too, they are both out of luck. 

That’s a shame, Emma heard that one of the limited exhibits would be centered around her newest favorite novel (set in Achroite). It’s a shame she’ll probably never get a chance to see it.

(Now she knows what it’s like in Keith’s route when you want to read a romantic book/see a romantic scene but can't)

Matias pauses, deep in consideration. They both want to go visit the museum, but they’re both woefully single. Maybe . . . Maybe they could work something out?

Matias quickly assures her that he doesn’t intend to break any rules. But, if they become a couple for the express purpose of visiting the museum, and then break up right after, that wouldn’t be technically breaking any laws. Right?

Also, Matias isn’t the type to normally rush things, he knows the social etiquette rules around becoming lovers, and he doesn’t intend to have a whirlwind romance. 

After a fateful encounter, they would slowly grow closer over an appropriate amount of time. As they fall deeply and helplessly in love, they finally confess and soon, are united as one . . . 

Emma gives him a good shake, calling his name. This brings Matias back to reality, and he coughs uncomfortably, centering himself. Anyway - before he got distracted - he was saying that he’s not the type of person to push boundaries and rush into relationships. 

However, the exhibit they’re both interested in is on display for a limited time. Without wishing to offend, perhaps they can be lovers for a short amount of time, just to visit the museum?

Honestly, Emma is the only one he can depend on in this situation. As a friend, does she agree?

Emma understands completely. Matias is very popular with the women, and if he were to propose being temporary lovers, she has no doubt it will end with the other person in tears. Honestly, this arrangement works out for both of them. 

Emma agrees to Matias’ proposal. Even though they’ve been friends for such a short time, she knows that deep down he’s a good man. Besides, there is nothing weird about friends being fake lovers. Right?

Matias beams at her, his expression suddenly switching from friendly to sexy. He assures her that he will take good care of her.

Emma thought the princes of Rhodolite had prepared her on how to handle attractive men. However, their collective attractiveness could not hold a candle to the radiant sun of Matias’ charms. Emma has to take a deep breath to steel herself and then bows politely to Matias. She is in his (temporary) care as his lover.

Suddenly Matias holds out his hand to her. At her confused expression, Matias explains that he wants her to hold hands with him.

Wait a minute. Are they starting right now?

Yes, Matias doesn’t think he can escort her adequately on the day of their museum trip without some time to get used to thinking of her as his (temporary) lover.

From this moment until after they visit the museum, he intends to be lovers with her. That should give them enough time to go on at least one outing as lovers too. 

Wow, Matias does not do things by halves. Looking into his earnest eyes, Emma can tell that he is absolutely serious. 

Well then, they’ll be lovers for only a short while, but she will give it her all too. She timidly accepts Matias’s hand, and he grasps her fingers, rubbing them. As her lover, he noticed that her hands were cold, even though she was wearing gloves. He grows worried, Achroite is famously much colder than Rhodolite - is she having any trouble adjusting?

(Now he cares)

Emma assures him that she is fine - it’s cold but she doesn’t mind. The country of Achroite is very beautiful, so to her, the positives far outweigh the negatives. 

Matias is relieved, Achroite is the land of snow, it would be difficult to stay here without enjoying it. So that she can enjoy the scenery even more, he grasps her other hand to warm it in his.

Matias is truly doting on her. Emma looks away bashfully as he brings her hands to his face to blow hot air on them. 

He touches her hands like they are precious treasures. The edges of his mouth lift in the beginnings of a smile as he exhales over them.

Forget her hands, the rest of Emma is growing uncomfortably warm. Maybe it was a mistake, to agree to be his temporary lover. 

They make plans for a date later in the week, and part ways to return to their respective duties. 

On the day of their date, Emma arrives at their prearranged meeting place a little early. She is still surprised by the events of the last few days; she has received a letter from Matias every day since she agreed to be his (temporary) lover. Andrea what Matias wrote . . . Her face grows red remembering. She knew that he was a romantic at heart, but those letters . . . 

Emma is taken out of her reverie by the sound of the people talking next to her. They’re discussing the bookstore in the center of town, and how it is running a fraudulent business. Their book prices are outrageous, and the owner has a nasty temper just because one of the two was a bit rough with his books. They agree to warn their friends to stay away from the bookstore.

Emma recognizes that store as one of her favorites. Yes, the prices are high, but the owner sells rare books. Also, as a fellow book lover, her heart sinks at the thought of a book being handled roughly.

Emma starts to interject gently, telling the two men that there must be a misunderstanding.

The two men immediately accuse her of being an agent of the bookstore owner. They ask if she’s in on the fraud and close in around her, threateningly.

Matias asks if the two men are prepared to make that statement in a court of law. He reminds them that perjury and defamation are very heavy crimes in Achroite, and they will need to be prepared to pay for any crimes. 

The two men fall silent, only now noticing Matias. He continues, that if the bookstore owner wanted to, he had two witnesses to them making false statements. He warns them that while they are free citizens of Achroite, they are still responsible for behaving in accordance with the law.

Emma rarely gets to see Matias like this, as the impartial arbiter of justice. 

Matias ends by adding that he personally will not tolerate continued disrespect to his girlfriend. Who totally loves him, as much as he loves her. Which is a lot.

Smiling beatifically at her, Matias drapes his arm around her shoulders and leads her away from the two thugs.

(Step one of dating - make sure the local thugs spread the news)

After they leave the area, Emma thanks Matias for protecting her back there. Matias assures her that it was fine, besides, she did the right thing back then. Emma is confused and Matias elaborates. Like he said, those men were slandering the store owner. Granted, it’s not a crime if the victim, the store owner, doesn’t report it, but those men were still behaving criminally. He is proud that his ‘girlfriend’ can recognize and call out criminals so quickly. 

Oh, how awkward. Emma wasn’t calling out those men to uphold the law, she just wanted to clear up any misunderstandings about the store owner. She’s not a champion of justice or anything, and probably wouldn’t have intervened if those men weren’t talking about someone she personally knew.

But Matias seems happy with it, and it’s such a small matter that Emma decides to leave it be. She promises Matias that she will do her best to be a woman worthy of him.

After that, they went to the various places Matias had planned out on their date, and Emma’s appreciation for the country of Achroite grew. She tried candy with frozen fruit, admired the intricate woodwork, and freaked out when Matias seemed to look at her too closely. Matias immediately backed down from the last bit, explaining that he’d never had a girlfriend before and that this was a new experience for him as well.

Matias was also able to explain Achroite culture to Emma, which helped her gain a deeper understanding of a scene in one of her favorite romance books. Matias admires the fictional couple, as he too wants to find a love that he would risk his own life for. 

He adds though, that he thinks the male lead is entirely unreasonable, letting the main character get into all these dangerous situations. If he could switch places, he would keep his princess in a safe cage place free from all danger where he could keep her pure.

Matias notices the side eye Emma is giving him and apologizes for saying all that in front of her. His girlfriend. 

No - that’s not the part Emma was worried about. What’s this about a Princess? Is Matias cheating on his real lover with Emma?

Oh, no, not at all. Matias is talking about his future wife whom he has yet to find. 

Matias begins to describe his ideal future wife: a woman full of noble dignity, a warm heart, and an honest appreciation for things. 

As he continues, Emma is amazed at how specific Matias’ ideals for his future wife are. It’s almost as if he’s describing someone he knows.

Eventually, Matias winds down his explanation, finishing up that his future wife would be a lot like Emma herself. 

Emma gives him a puzzled look and Matias coughs uncomfortably. 

Wow, he is really looking forward to seeing the couple’s museum. Isn’t Emma?

They continue their date long into the day as the sun begins to set, dying the town red. 

Suddenly the air around Matias seems to change, and he pulls them both to a stop, staring at the crowd of people. Looking at him, Emma thinks he has gone as cold as ice.

Just as she starts to ask him what is wrong, Matias apologizes and asks her to wait just a moment. Before she can respond, he sprints out into the crowd. He jumps a man walking through the crowd, pulling him to the ground and pinning his arm behind him. Matias has recognized this man as a criminal who intends to break into Ultima Thule, free some of the prisoners, and escape the country. Matias knows everything, and this man will pay for his crimes.

This man has enacted illegal means to acquire restricted information, bribed some of the guards, and, worst of all, had made contact with an individual in Obsidian for his escape route.

The man is shocked at how much Matias knows. Matias tells him not to underestimate the National Guard, they haven’t apprehended him yet only because they were looking for his hideout. Thanks to this man, this criminal, walking through town, the investigation can be brought to an end. 

The man wails that ‘her’ body is failing and that she can’t take it anymore.

Matias nods, the man was waiting for the right time to strike but became impatient and moved ahead. 

Of course, even if Matias hadn’t just found him, the man would have failed. Ultima Thule’s security would have stopped him, no one can escape. 

The man screams that it’s not ‘her’ fault. She was just trying to help someone; she didn’t realize that person was connected to Obsidian. 

In a monotone voice, Matias pronounces that anyone who breaks the law is a criminal.

Matias notices Emma watching and a small thaw in his demeanor appears. He assures Emma this will all be over shortly. 

The man on the ground has heard that Matias has a lover. Matias tells him that his relationship status is none of the man’s business. 

The man shouts that if Matias has a lover, he must know exactly how he feels. The wish to do anything for your lover, even at the expense of yourself.

Yes, the man has committed grave sins, and he will commit them again and again for ‘her’ sake. He will bear any punishment, even if it costs him his life, just please show his lover mercy. 

Matias tells the man not to lump in his girlfriend with criminals. Unlike them, Emma is a pure and righteous woman. 

By this time the city guard has come, and Matias hands the man over to them. Then, as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, he comes back to where Emma is standing.

He immediately notices that she’s shaking and smiling gently and asks if she’s okay.

Emma assures him she is and asks about Ultima Thule.

Ultima Thule is Achroite’s forced labor prison. Criminals who’s crimes are not so bad that they’re executed are sent there to work off their debts to society. It’s in the coldest, most remote, and most desolate place in Achroite. 

Matias apologizes for the scene that Emma just saw. He understands that she isn’t one for violence. Would she mind continuing the date with him and giving him the chance to apologize?

Matias is trying to cheer her up, but Emma can’t shake the realization that Matias is being so kind to her because he thinks she is someone that she is not. Emma isn’t a crusader for justice, if anything, she’s sympathetic to that criminal’s plight. She couldn’t say for sure that she wouldn’t break the law if she and that man’s places were switched. 

Emma is one misstep from being hauled away to prison under Matias’ cold, unforgiving gaze. 

She realizes that Matias is dangerous.

Matias gently strokes her back as if trying to soothe her. He tells her that he made reservations at a nearby restaurant and suggests they head there for a break.

The food, which Emma had no doubt tasted delicious, tasted like nothing at all.

Sweet End 

On the day of the museum date, Emma looks at the exhibits with Matias, but she is still trembling with fear. The joy of the exhibits fails her as she focuses on the man next to her.

Matias stops her from going to the next one - he’s noticed her state and wants to apologize. He understands that what she saw during their date frightened her, and he wants to apologize for subjecting her to that scene. 

Emma thinks that it must be difficult for Matias, who is just doing his job, to have everyone afraid of him. She apologizes too.

Matias shakes his head and assures her that her feelings are natural. It must be a blow to realize how far into the country criminals connected to Obsidian can infiltrate. As a member of the criminal justice system, the fact that the criminal got so far in his nefarious plot is a stain upon his honor. It’s not only her whom he should apologize to but to all the good citizens in the square that day. He came so close to failing to protect everyone.

Er . . . Matias doesn’t quite get how she feels after all. Those words the man had flung at Matias, about having to understand him since he knows what it’s like to have a lover, ring in Emma’s ears. She wonders if Matias was unable to understand that man at all. Matias is nice and fun, but she truly has no idea what is going on in his head.

And that is what she’s afraid of.

In reality, Matias apologizes to Emma for failing to protect her. Emma shakes her head, reminding Matias that she wasn’t hurt at all. In fact, no one at the square was hurt. 

Matias disagrees, as her lover, it’s his job to protect her physically and mentally. And right now, she is full of anxiety and fear. 

Matias wants her to feel safe and have a fun time. He wants her to only feel happiness.

For that goal, he will put everything he has, everything that makes him Matias on the line. He tells Emma to relax and enjoy herself and reminds her of that exhibit she wanted to see. 

Matias wishes she would smile.

Emma is still afraid, but Matias’ passionate speech has touched her heart. She looks at him, trying to shake off the fear, and smiles. He smiles back at her, relief on his face.

And, oh, that smile. Emma can feel her face heat up.

Oh no. Emma can’t take her eyes off Matias. Not just her face but her whole body is heating up. She’s about to explode from the heat boiling up in her.

Suddenly Matias grabs her by her shoulders, and Emma realizes she was listing to the side. He asks if she’s okay, supporting her.

Emma snaps back to herself and shakes her head, trying to return to normal. She assures him that she’s fine and lets Matias lead her through the museum. 

That charm of his is something else.

Emma has seen a few ladies her age standing in a daze next to Matias, but she never thought she would be one of them. Ugh, how humiliating - Emma wishes she could just crawl off into a hole somewhere. As she considers cutting the date short to save whatever is left of her dignity, Matias catches her attention and directs her gaze at a painting.

Oh. That painting. The one Emma wanted to see more than anything else.

Matias had said that this painting was supposed to evoke the feelings of spring love, but that description falls flat. Emma’s heart leaps at the sight of it, entranced in the beauty before her.

Matias nods, this isn’t that far from how he imagined the scene. The man was fine, but he thought the woman should be smaller, like Emma, with long brown hair, like Emma. Hmmm . . . Oh, he gets it now.

(Does Emma have a single/available sister by chance?)

The woman in the book was described as the most beautiful woman in the world, which is why he thought of Emma. 

In Matias’ imagination, her hair would sway in the southern wind, and her eyes would sparkle in the sunlight. She would turn towards him, smiling as if the whole world was celebrating. 

Emma cuts him short - he is praising her too much. Matias disagrees, as his girlfriend, it is no exaggeration to say she is the most beautiful woman in the world. 

Well, Matias sure has a strong imagination of his girlfriend. 

Matias suggests they move on to the next painting. He has created an itemized list and flowchart to look at the paintings he thought Emma would like the best. Emma agrees that this sounds like fun.

You know, Matias was looking forward to the paintings, but he thinks the best part will be seeing them together with Emma.

They walk through the paintings, admiring the exhibits. Before long, they find themselves at the exit.

Emma peers at the exit - it appears there are rules to leave the building. They must demonstrate how their love has deepened before they leave.

Matias muses that the rule leaves it open for interpretation but wonders about the various ways people can demonstrate their love. Emma thinks words or declarations of affirmation would probably be the most popular, though she grows flushed at the idea of saying such things to Matias.

Well, rules are rules. And Matias, who researched this in advance, is prepared.

He wraps a cute, fluffy pastel scarf around Emma’s neck. He explains that even with her gloves on, sometimes Emma looks so cold. 

He also has gloves for her, which match his own. They go past the wrist and are waterproof so should keep her warm longer. 

Matias’ idea to prove his love for her is to protect her, in this case, from the elements. Emma thanks him, now, not only is her body but her heart warm. 

And now it’s Emma’s turn. Her heart is fuzzy and warm, she takes a deep breath and begins.

When they leave the museum, the city is red with the sunset. Matias thanks her for being his temporary lover, he had a lot more fun than he expected.

So much fun that he doesn’t quite want their time together to end just yet. Didn’t they agree that they’d be lovers until the end of the day today? He asks if she wouldn’t mind grabbing dinner together. 

Emma’s heart pounds in her chest as she looks into Matias’ snow-colored eyes. They were endlessly kind when they looked at her, but she has seen them become frozen at a moment's notice. She’s curious about Matias, about the way he thinks. Maybe if she spends more time with him, she’ll find something that will satisfy her and wipe away the fear that lingers in her heart. Feeling hopeful, Emma agrees to spend the rest of the day together.

Premium End

On the day of their museum date, Matias arrived early at their prearranged meeting place and had been waiting for Emma. She apologizes for keeping him waiting and he waives her off - she was waiting for him last time and he hadn’t wanted to make her wait for him a second time.

Emma thinks that Matias really is a nice person. That time at the town square, he had just been fulfilling his duties as a guardian of the law. If anything, Emma should be relieved that he was truly impartial and egalitarian in dispensing justice.

But she is still afraid.

Emma tries to stuff the fear somewhere down in her stomach and smiles at Matias. 

Matias pulls out a notebook from his pocket and proffers it to Emma. He explains that he was researching the exhibits, and thought there were a few that depended on a deep cultural understanding of Achroite. He thought she would like to look up and understand those points at her leisure. 

Emma accepts the notebook and opens it, realizing that it is all in Matias’ own handwriting. Matias explains that while he hoped that it would be useful to her both as a reference for the museum and as something to aid her grow accustomed to Achroite.

Just as Emma begins to open her mouth to thank him, Matias beckons her closer, he wants to give her a souvenir from their last date. He takes out a package and starts touching her earlobes. Afterwards, she looks at her reflection in the window of a nearby shop and admires the wooden earrings. He also gives her a package of sweets from the coffee shop they visited.

(This man is the reason why women's clothes should come with more pockets)

These gifts remind her of the good times they had yesterday and show his care towards her. Really, she had been having a great time until that scene at the end. 

But she’s still afraid.

Emma resolves herself to face Matias without being trapped by fear. The gratefully thanks him.

Matias’ snow-blue eyes narrow slightly and he reminds her that they’re lovers. These gifts should be as natural as breathing. Emma shakes her head, a lover wouldn’t take their partner for granted, and she can feel the time and effort he put into these gifts. She might not have experience with a lover before, but she is certain Matias would make his partner the happiest woman in the world. 

Matias assures Emma that she has been the perfect lover, the time he has spent daydreaming about her has been too perfect for words. 

Uhh, what?

Matias quickly assures her that he wasn’t skipping work to daydream about her, just when he had a quiet moment to take a break. He would picture the smile she would give him, and every moment basking in her radiant prescience.

Oh, that’s what he meant. Yeah, that’s okay then.

The feeling of fear hasn’t left Emma completely, but she thinks that she can enjoy their museum date. Seeing her smile, Matias smiles back. They haven’t even started their date, but Matias is having a great time already. That said, they probably should start making their way over. 

Matias courteously holds out his hand and Emma accepts it without hesitation.

After the museum date, Matias brought them to the dance hall in Achroite Castle. It was completely different from the one in Rhodolite, with soft wood tones and candles illuminating the national crest carved into the wooden floor. 

Matias admits that he hasn’t had many good experiences in this place, but he has always fantasized about dancing here with his lover. He thanks Emma for coming with him and asks if she would like to dance with him. Emma agrees and accepts Matias’ hand. 

Matias is impressed, Emma is a much better dancer than he was anticipating. Emma admits to practicing hard in the past. She is happy it worked out for them, after all, if she couldn’t dance then she wouldn’t be able to be his lover, right? After all, Matias is a member of the royalty, and his beloved would need to be a noble.

Actually, not necessarily. It would be better if his queen could dance, but it would be fine if she learned how to between their engagement and the actual wedding. Achroite is less class-conscious than other countries, so his wife could come from any class. 

Besides, the Asbrink family rules are very vague on the qualification for their wives. The only real rule is that she be worthy of the distinguished Asbrink family. Which is why Matias wants someone he can love and cherish and make happy. Emma notes that Matias looks so happy when he talks about his future wife. 

Choosing his wife is technically one of the few personal choices Matias can make in his life. He wouldn’t be constrained as a keeper of the law, or as the scion of the Asbrink family. He would be able to just be Matias and choose and love someone just for himself.

Emma understands that as both the keeper of the law and the first prince of Achroite, Matias has many responsibilities and rules he must follow. The time spent with his lover is probably the only time he gets to be himself.

Matias begins describing his ideal lover to Emma. Emma nods, she understands why he speaks so enthusiastically about his future lover. Matias adds that since his lover would be marrying a guardian of the law and the first prince of Achroite, the most important thing is that she is righteous and pure.

Emma thinks that his definition of the last bit would be that Matias’ wife would never violate the law no matter the circumstances. Emma doesn’t have it in her to live up to those standards. But she is his lover until the end of the day, so she should enjoy it while it lasts. She asks if they could dance a little longer, and Matias mutters that he wishes he could dance with her forever. She hopes that at least until the end of the day, Matias feels a little bit of freedom.

Suddenly Matias grabs her waist and spins her around. Emma is surprised and impressed, she never thought she’d be able to spin like that. Matias admits to trying it with her for the first time, he’s only read and fantasized about it.

Surprised, Emma asks about all the dance parties he’s been expected to attend as a royal. Matias reveals that he has always tried to keep a certain distance between himself and the ladies. If he gets too close, he will suddenly find it difficult to get away.

While Emma would normally think it’s nice to be liked, she can see the downsides. But with Matias’ seductive aura, she’ll need to be careful too. Subtly, Emma tries to move away from him, at least so she feels less of his body heat.

Oh no! Matias has noticed and asks why she’s pulling away. The hand on her waist tightens, pulling her closer to him. 

His snow-colored eyes exuded such sensuality that it made chills run down Emma’s spine. The shock of his face so close makes Emma lose her breath and forget how to breathe. A heat stirs in her body, and she suddenly can’t look away from his face. 

Her head was full of Matias, just Matias, and she climbed onto him and his heat. She wants nothing more than to cling to him.

A sudden image of a young woman dazed and confused next to Matias flashes through Emma’s head. She remembers that Matias doesn’t like women like that and awkwardly tries to push him away. Emma explains that she’s trying to put a little distance between them. She pushes at his chest again, but the arm around her waist only tightens. 

Matias reminds Emma that she’s his lover, so he needs her close to him. Emma refuses, if this continues, she’ll get in trouble.

With the saddest eyes, Matias asks what kind of trouble she is talking about.

Oh, that did it. The last of Emma’s strength leaves her body as Matias calls her name.

Epilogue

During the last night as Matias’s lover, she and he attended a dance party. Unfortunately, the prolonged exposure to Matias’ seductive aura overwhelmed Emma, and she came close to fainting. Thankfully Matias was able to steady her, and she was able to pretend that she simply missed a dance step and injured her ankle. Which did happen.

Suddenly she is in Matias’ arms as he lifts her. He tells her that they’re done dancing, instead, he’ll bring her to her room. And, since it’s late, he’ll arrange for her to stay in a guest room tonight.

Matias bridal carries Emma into a room and places her on the bed. He fetches a small box of medical supplies and begins tending to her ankle.

Emma apologizes for the trouble, but Matias assures her that he’s used to doing this in the National Guard. Weirdly impersonally, Matias rolls up Emma’s skirt, so her leg is exposed up to her thigh before he starts manipulating her ankle. Emma wants to preserve some modesty and lower her hemline, but she doesn’t want to get in his way.

Looking at Matias, it is clear that he has barely even noticed her state, and instead is focused on her ankle. She reminds herself that this is just a medical treatment, something that Matias is used to and has done to his fellow soldiers before. She tries to think of something else, but her thoughts just keep on returning to Matias bent over her ankle.

After what seemed like a small eternity has passed, Matias pronounces his field treatment as complete. He instructs Emma to keep her ankle elevated so the swelling will go down by tomorrow-

Matias suddenly freezes, as if realizing the position he and Emma are in. He immediately apologizes, explaining that he moved by instinct and had no ulterior intentions toward her. 

Oh, even though she’s his lover, he has gone too far to pin her down to a bed, and even touched her bare skin with his ungloved hands- 

Matias’ panic is making Emma feel embarrassed all over again. She quickly assures him that she understands he had nothing but the best of intentions and concerns over her injury. Honestly, she’s grateful that he was so quick and efficient in his medical treatment. Emma bows her head and Matias snatches his hands away from her leg.

Well, okay then. Matias nods to himself, regains his composure, and sits next to Emma on the bed. Once again, he is close enough for her to feel his body heat.

Well, there’s only one last thing for a couple to do on a night like this. Suddenly, Matias’ face draws closer to Emma’s. She begins to protest.

But why? They’ve just finished their second date, so shouldn’t they do the proper thing? Sit close to each other and talk about the parts they enjoyed and what they want to do next. And, as they talk, the bond between them grows and the feelings they have are reflected in their softening gazes and then-

(Besides, according to the Asbrink family rules, no sex before the third date)

Oh, okay, Emma gets it now. She feels embarrassed - Matias apologized for touching her just to treat her injury, of course, he wouldn’t expect to go further physically. Emma sighs in relief and tries to objectively look at Matias. He seems to really enjoy being a ‘temporary’ lover, to the point that he’s forgotten that there will be no ‘next’ for them. 

Matias asks Emma to tell him more about herself - for future reference.

At Emma’s puzzled look, Matias explains that while they won’t be lovers, they’ll still be friends. Besides, now that he knows her a little better, he thinks they could be great friends. So, he wants to know more about her.

Emma understands that Matias’ words are saying that he wants a deeper friendship, but something about his sensual gaze makes her feel like what he really wants is something else.

Still, Emma agrees, and Matias smiles like the sun reflecting off of ice crystals. Maybe he’s still in the headspace that they’re lovers since the night isn’t yet over.

[elyvorg]

The Real Reason That Sissel Refused to Help

(or: the subtle genius of Ghost Trick’s tutorial)

“I just want to find my own lost memory. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

Here’s a post in which I talk about this particular part of Ghost Trick’s story, which I’m keeping as vague as possible outside of the spoiler cut, but those who’ve finished the game should know what I’m referring to. What’s actually going on here is rather interesting, and paints our friend Sissel in a much less negative light than the face-value assumption I tend to see most people jumping to with this.

First, though, I have written a fic illustrating this idea in narrative form rather than lengthily explaining it. If you’re interested, I recommend you go read that first before reading this, because being shown is more fun than being told!

(Also, spoilers, obviously. Go play Ghost Trick if you haven’t; it’s so good and absolutely not the kind of thing you want to be spoiled for.)

So, in the original timeline, Sissel refused to help Missile save his mistresses, stating that he just wants to find his own lost memories.

It could easily seem at a glance like Sissel’s character development over the course of the game is that he started off selfish, only caring about his own mystery, and it’s only through getting attached to everyone throughout the night that he begins to care about others and the bigger picture. As such, his refusal to help Missile in the original timeline is easy to read as being born of that, since this was early on when Sissel still only cared about himself.

But… it’s not actually that simple, because Sissel isn’t as selfish in the beginning as one might think. Sure, he’ll say things like “I have to focus on my own mystery”, or “this is all for my own benefit”. But that doesn’t actually match up with his actions. His own mystery may be, in theory, his number one priority, but a remarkably close second priority for him is to save the lives of any dead person he happens to come across. Even very early on, before he’s grown to care about any of these people!

He doesn’t hesitate to save Missile, despite having zero reason to assume that this little doggie will be any help with his mystery. The second time he finds Lynne dead, when he’s getting to talk to her and learns that she doesn’t actually know much about him and probably won’t be able to help him because she’s got her own case to pursue tonight, he still reassures her that she doesn’t owe him and he’s going to save her life anyway.

And even right at Lynne’s very first death, in the game’s opening narration, Sissel makes a point that he doesn’t want to stand back and let her get shot, and that he feels bad for her, despite her being a complete stranger!

Evidently, even right at the beginning, Sissel isn’t selfish. He just thinks he is. Because cats can be tsundere like that.

Sissel:  “Why am I so determined to save this woman? After all, it’s not as if I know her. My reason is twofold. Number one, I’m not the type to leave women lying around, discarded like trash.”

(Here’s a bit from later in chapter 1 featuring Sissel being amusingly surprised by his own altruistic streak. He seems to expect to only care about himself – yet here he is, not wanting to leave a stranger lying dead if he can help it. Not so selfish after all, huh?)

So if that’s not the problem in the original timeline, then what is? Why does Sissel leave Missile to deal with saving his ladies alone when he’d have no reason not to try and help? – after all, he hasn’t been given a fake time limit in this timeline! He’s not even in a hurry with his own mystery! For that matter, Sissel was still there in the junkyard at the beginning – why didn’t he just save Lynne himself?

We can get a good indication of what the issue is from that very same opening narration I was just talking about.

Sissel:  “Now, I’m not the kind of guy who can just stand back and watch a poor woman get shot. But I have just one little problem… I’m already dead myself.”

Sissel:  “I feel bad for her, sure. But what can I do? I’m dead. But just as I was thinking that…”

The real problem is not that he doesn’t care about saving a stranger’s life. Rather, it’s that, because he’s dead, he doesn’t think he can. He’s not expecting to magically have ghost superpowers; why would he?

And it’s just as he was thinking that he can’t do anything (which, while part of his screen-filling monologue narration, was still his thoughts and therefore something any nearby ghost could hear)… that Ray speaks up to tell him that actually he can save her.

Sissel:  “Huh?” (Me? Save her? Uh, how?)

Immediately, Sissel questions the notion once again, not with a why but with a how. It’s not that he doesn’t want to; he simply doesn’t think it’s possible.

This general idea continues throughout the entire tutorial, which is absolutely packed with lines that show Sissel being deeply sceptical about the idea that he could possibly save someone’s life or alter someone’s fate.

Once Ray’s taught him about his basic ghost tricks and he’s managed to delay Lynne’s death by a few moments… she still ends up dead anyway. And Sissel thinks that’s it. Because of course he does. Even if he can stop time and manipulate objects, he has zero reason to believe that his powers can undo a death that’s already happened.

Sissel:  “In the end, it looks like her fate remains unchanged. So what good are these ‘ghost tricks’ of mine? But just as I was thinking this…”

Sissel:  “It looks like my ghost tricks didn’t do much good.” (She still ended up just as dead as before.)

He even ends up feeling like his new superpowers are barely worth anything, because he can play a few little tricks on someone, but that’s not enough to save someone’s life, is it?

Ray:  “Isn’t it a shame to see such a pretty young woman lying here discarded like a piece of trash?” Sissel:  “But what can I do? She’s already dead.”

Ray:  “And while she’s resting, you can save her life.” Sissel:  “Oh, sure. You make it sound so easy.”

And again, he’s very dismissive of Ray implying or telling him that he can do something about this. After all, how could that be possible any more?

In particular, there’s this vital little bit of trickery here…

Ray:  “Now what do you suppose will happen if you possess a corpse?” Sissel:  “Nothing, because I already tried that, remember? And nothing happened at all.”

…in which Sissel assumes his powers just don’t work on corpses, because he’s already tried and failed to do anything with “his” corpse. If he’d been alone, without Ray to guide him through things, he most likely wouldn’t have even tried to possess Lynne’s corpse in the first place, because he would have had no reason to believe it would achieve anything!

(Meanwhile, Missile in the original timeline also had zero reason to believe he could do anything for Kamila, but he was so anguished and desperate that of course he would have tried anyway. He’d try anything to save her, because he is good and loyal and Dog. So he was able to discover his time-rewinding powers where Sissel didn’t, and thus he passed that knowledge onto Sissel in the game’s timeline.)

And as Ray tells Sissel that he can in fact rewind time to redo the last moments of Lynne’s life, he’s completely dumbfounded and bewildered by the very idea of it.

Sissel:  “Are you serious?! Back through time?!”

Sissel:  “But this is crazy! None of it makes any sense!”

Ray:  “To the time four minutes before this woman was murdered!” Sissel:  “H-Hey, wait a second! I still don’t know what you’re talking about!”

What is this lamp even talking about?! Of course turning back time isn’t possible! He had no reason to believe it was possible, even as part of his new wacky ghost powers.

(Meanwhile, when Sissel is saving Missile in the game, we get a little exchange that shows Missile being completely unfazed by the idea that Sissel’s brought them back in time. It’s no weirder than humans walking around on two legs, right? One way or another, the cat can barely wrap his head around it, while the dog sees it as perfectly plausible.)

One thing Ray says more than once during the tutorial is, “The best thing to do is try it.” Because Sissel is being so stubbornly cynical that he will not take this desk lamp’s word about how useful his powers are and has to literally be pushed into trying it himself in order to believe it, every time.

Even after seeing for himself that he can go back in time and watch Lynne’s death again, Sissel still manages to be pessimistic about this.

Ray:  “And there you have it. The last four minutes of her life.” Sissel:  [strained] “No…!” Ray:  “It’s kind of ironic, when you think about it. A woman toyed with by fate, and a man toyed with by a ghost.” Sissel:  “But she still died.”

He went back in time, and she still died. There’s still apparently nothing he can do, right? No, Sissel, just have a bit of patience! This is just the mechanic that lets you understand what happens before you dive in and start changing things; you’ll get your chance soon!

And once he’s finally successfully saved Lynne…

Ray:  “You used your powers to avert that woman’s fate.” Sissel: “So I did that?”

Sissel still has a moment of being surprised at the notion that he was capable of something like this.

It’s really striking to me, watching over chapter 1 again with this thought about original-timeline Sissel in mind, just how many lines to this effect there are throughout the whole thing. The writers did not need to include this many moments of Sissel being sceptical, or even any of them at all, really, in order for the tutorial to do its job as a tutorial! But they’re here anyway, because it is in fact really important to the story that Sissel is somebody who would not have tried hard enough to figure out that his powers can undo deaths unless he had someone holding his hand through it the whole way.

The way old-Missile talks about it when he’s explaining himself at the end, it’s easy to get the takeaway that the most important thing he did as Ray was to take advantage of Sissel’s supposed self-interest: by not contradicting his misconception that he’s the man in red, by telling him Lynne is the key to his mystery (a half-truth at best), and by giving him a fake time limit. And it’s not that those things didn’t help, but they’re not really the most important thing at all.

The most important thing Ray did for Sissel, the thing that Missile absolutely most needed to spend those ten years waiting to do, was exactly what it appeared to be during chapter 1: to teach him how to use his powers to save lives. Because the number one thing the Sissel from the original timeline needed but didn’t get was, quite literally, a tutorial.

There’s a little bit more to it than this, though. So, okay, Sissel in the original timeline didn’t know he had the vital time-rewinding power. But then that begs the question: why didn’t Missile just tell him that while asking for his help?

For that matter, why did Sissel leave Missile shortly after being asked for help? It can’t just be because he urgently had to go and look elsewhere for answers to his own mystery, because he’s not pressed for time here. And he was apparently chilling at the junkyard just eavesdropping on the investigators’ conversations before Missile showed up. Why the sudden shift in locations now of all times, when there’s someone here who’s actually talking to him – the first person Sissel would have been able to talk to all night – and asking him for help?

The issue here, I believe, is that this isn’t just a matter of Sissel’s lack of understanding what his powers can do. It’s also a matter of emotional state – both Sissel’s, and Missile’s. Both of them would have been incredibly stressed out and upset, Sissel due to his loss of memory and seeing deaths in front of him that he doesn’t think he can do anything about, and Missile due to his mistresses’ deaths that he also can’t do anything about, even though he has a superpower that lets him try but it just isn’t quite enough.

How would Missile and Sissel’s interaction go when they’re both so upset like this? There’s actually a fun little bite-sized example of this in the actual canon timeline. During the last desperate struggle to escape the sinking submarine…

Missile:  “Sissel! Y-Y-Y… You’re not telling Miss Lynne to leave poor Miss Kamila behind, ARE YOU?!” Sissel:  *sigh* “Could you just be quiet for a minute, Missile?”

Missile and Sissel are bound to be both extremely anxious and stressed in this situation – trapped in the submarine, Lynne and Kamila in danger of drowning if they don’t do something. And in that state of mind, it seems that Missile is prone to eschewing logic to be even more loudly desperately protective of his mistresses… while Sissel especially does not enjoy Missile being Loudly Boisterously Dog in his ear when he’s stressed out. After all, cats and dogs have very opposite and very incompatible ways of dealing with stress!

So it follows that the conversation between Sissel and Missile in the original timeline would likely have been an incoherent emotional mess, in which neither of them properly communicated their side of things at all. Missile must have just never even thought to tell Sissel that he can rewind time and therefore saving his ladies is actually possible in theory, because that was already obvious to him! He wouldn’t be capable of understanding why Sissel would be so reluctant about this.

As for why Sissel wasn’t just reluctant to help but outright ran away and sealed the deal – I think, more than anything, it’s got to be down to the fact that he couldn’t stand having Missile being so loud and energetic at him when he was this upset. Especially not while repeatedly saying that he can save them, which would be the exact thing Sissel has been miserably convinced that he just can’t. It follows that he’d just have wanted to run and hide somewhere Missile isn’t, where he can have some peace and quiet. Cats who are upset often like to hide and isolate themselves to feel safer.

There’s one other part in the game’s tutorial that suggests the problem originally might have been partly a matter of Sissel’s emotions:

Ray:  “Hello there. How are you feeling? Not very well, I imagine. A terrible tragedy, what happened tonight.” Sissel:  “………” [neutral face] Ray:  “Ah, ignoring me, are you? It’s a little too early for you to be so stiff and cold, I’d say.” Sissel:  [smiling] “Ah, so it was you. You were that voice in my head, right?”

This is very noteworthy, because Ray is the only person in the entire game who ever takes the time to ask Sissel how he’s feeling. He wouldn’t be feeling great after waking up dead, watching a woman die in front of him and failing to save her, would he?

It seems like old-Missile, with his years of wisdom and time to reflect on everything, realised that his approach to getting Sissel’s help last time really was way too focused on his own problems, and he never even stopped to think about how Sissel must have been feeling. So here, he presents himself as a friend, someone who cares about Sissel and his journey, because that’s exactly what Sissel needs! This poor kitty must have felt so lonely and sad and helpless in the original timeline. But hearing Ray’s words, and realising that this desk lamp is someone semi-familiar, does seem to cheer him up at least a little bit here! Sissel really is a character whose core desperate need is to just not be alone, even if you’d be hard-pressed to get him to admit that at the beginning.

Interestingly, way back when I first played Ghost Trick, on the DS soon after it came out, I found myself intrigued by Sissel in the original timeline. I vaguely toyed with the idea of writing a fic exploring how he was feeling and why he refused, though I never got around to actually doing so. Then recently, the game coming out in HD rekindled my hyperfixation and made me think about it some more and actually end up writing that fic after all. And the thing is, back then, I didn’t remotely consciously understand any of this stuff I’ve just explained here. But even so, I find it neat how I still had this wordless sense that what was going on with Sissel must have been so much more than just selfishness – that he must have been so sad in that timeline and that had to be the real basis of why he didn’t help.

[rangerbarbz]

Professor Pines pt. 2

Author’s note: YALL RAHHHH I MADE THE HIGHEST GRADE IN THE CLASS ON ONE OF MY ZOOLOGY FINALS LETS GOOOOOO anyways things are slowing down for me other than i am moving into my own place!! Im so excited <3 I hope yall enjoy this!! (I just want to apologize for me nerding out over birds in this chapter) 

Summary: This is just a random day in the first week that Ford and the reader are spending in east Tennessee. They are going bird watching ayyyy 

May 21st 

You leaned over your field notebook, trying to recreate the beautiful foliage you had seen on a hike with Ford the day before. Before trying to find any mysterious creatures that lurked in the Appalachian, Ford had suggested that you both get acquainted with the area you would be studying in. This way you would be able to fully understand the habitat this cryptid called home and any adaptations it developed to flourish there. You didn’t mind it whatsoever. Wildlife had always been something you were interested in, and Ford made it so damn fun. It was a shame you never had him before as a professor. He would be one hell of a lecturer. Despite having the reputation of being an introvert, he came to life when he got to speak about his passion: science. 

You certainly weren’t as gifted in the art department as Ford was, but you were determined to finish this drawing of a flower if it was the last thing you did. You bit the end of your indigo coloring pencil as you examined your illustration. 

“Needs more purple,” you mumbled, grabbing your violet pencil and drawing streaks over the petals. You hummed contentedly. “There we go.”

“Very nice, Y/N,” Ford complimented. You didn’t know he was bent down looking over your shoulder, observing your artistic process. 

“Jesus!” you yelped, knee hitting the underside of your desk. Your colored pencils began to roll onto the floor beside you. “You scared me,” you said through laughing. 

“I seem to be good at doing that,” Ford replied jokingly. He kneeled beside you, his face now eye level with your lap. Out of your view, his eyes flickered at your plush thighs as he stood back up. He placed your pencils beside your notebook and placed a hand on the back of your swivel chair. 

He pointed to your drawing. “Is that the Bachelor’s Button we saw yesterday?” 

You smiled. “Yes, it is! How did I do?” You turned to him as he read the notes and labels that were littered around the page. 

“Looks just like it,” he answered, grinning at you. 

“Why, thank you, Ford.” You closed your notebook and turned towards him, still seated. He was now leaning against the oak drawers of the desk, his hands flat on the surface behind him. “What do you have planned today?” 

“I’m glad you asked!” He removed his journal tucked into a pocket inside his jacket and flipped through the pages. He landed on a page that had nothing on it besides the word “Birds” written in his loopy scrawl. “I thought we’d go bird watching today! I’m a little rusty on class Aves, so I thought we’d go together and see what we find.”

Yes! I would love to! Let me just-” You leaned over to the bottom drawer where Ford was standing. The drawer was shielded by his broad legs. 

“Oh, excuse me!” Ford apologized. He stepped out of the way. You pulled out a pair of binoculars and a guide for bird identifying. 

“Alright, I’m ready.” You stood up quickly from your chair. “Lead the way, Pines,” you said faux authoritatively.

He laughed. “Yes ma’am.” 

You found yourself walking down a trail where the grass had been patted down by others who had walked on it before. Trees grew on either side of you and bushes were scattered throughout the forest. It was quite peaceful. You and Ford had settled on a comfortable silence as you looked to the branches for birds. You were both trying to walk softly to avoid any twigs or leaves crunching. This came surprisingly easy to Ford despite being the tall, broad man that he is. You eventually stopped at a spot behind a shrub that had been covered in vines to gaze across an open area. 

“This should be good enough,” Ford said, placing his bag on the ground. He brought his binoculars to his eyes just as you did. “Keep an eye out for anything…unusual. You never know what you’ll find.” 

You chuckled. “Got that right.” You then turned to your left to search for any bright patches of colors that could be songbirds. After about a minute of not seeing anything, Ford brought your attention his way. 

“Look! Do you know what that is, Y/N?” he asked quietly, pointing upwards. You quickly pivoted on your feet and moved closer to him, scanning the trees with your binoculars. 

“I don’t quite see it,” you murmured, still looking for the bird in the wrong direction. 

“Here.” Ford then shifted behind you gently touching your elbows and lifting your arms into the line of sight of the bird. Your breath hitched in your throat at the contact. His fingertips were rough compared to the soft flesh of your arms. He leaned next to your ear and pointed once again, facing the sky. 

“Do you see it?” he whispered. You felt your face grow warm at the current proximity. His voice was so low and gravelly in your ear. You suddenly saw the bird he had been talking about. It was black, white, and had a bright red splotch across its chest. 

“Oh, I see it!” you exclaimed. “That’s a, uh,” you snapped your fingers, “a Rose-Breasted Grosbeak.” 

Ford smiled warmly at you. “That it is.” 

You spent an extra hour and a half taking in the scenery around you, continuing to find even more birds. It was a truly beautiful day for it. The sun was even shining just right on Ford to accentuate the silver in his hair. That’s when you remembered something. 

You then pulled a disposable camera out of your back pocket. “Ford, look at me,” you instructed, positioning the camera in front of your eye. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at you. 

“Taking a picture of you. Don’t think you can escape entering my scrapbook. Now smile.” He laughed in response to that, giving you a perfectly authentic grin. 

“That reminds me of my great niece. She loves scrapbooking. You’ll have to meet her one day.” He began to pick up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “You would get along swimmingly.” 

You giggled. “I would love that,” you responded, also picking up your own bag and putting your binoculars in it. 

You began to walk back down the trail together, recapping all of what you saw today when you spotted a raspberry bush. “Hell yes,” you said, striding over to the bush. “You want a snack, Ford?” You started to pick the berries off the plant. 

“I’m alright, but thank you,” he responded, waiting for you to get done harvesting. You walked back over to him and began to bite a berry in half. Unfortunately, this was an especially juicy one. It busted and left a red streak dribbling down your chin. 

“Dammit,” you grumbled, about to wipe your mouth with your sleeve. 

Ford frowned at you. “No, don’t ruin your shirt like that. Here let me.” His hand gently cradled the back of your head as he took the bottom of his shirt and brought it to your chin. Your eyes widened at the action and the fact you could now see Ford’s midsection. He had a muscular belly with just a little bit of pudge and a graying happy trail. Oh my God. 

His cotton covered thumb swiped below your lip, removing the juice that was there. He wasn’t looking in your eyes but instead focusing on the task at hand. His hand left the back of your head as he dropped his shirt.

“There we go,” he grinned, eyes crinkling at you. “Now, I’m the dirty one.” You knew your face had to be as red as the berry you just ate, but he didn’t mention it. It was such an innocent act of kindness, but the way you were feeling was far from innocent.

[deathbyathousandspiders]

omggggg can i request billingual reader and maybe peter finds it cute that when shes explaining stuff she has a thinking face of what to say next cos she wants to be sure of how to say it in english 🥹 or maybe hearing her speak in her mother tongue/native language does he find it cute or smn :(((((((

as a white english–speaking woman, i only feel comfortable writing for a bilingual reader with a language/culture that i’m relatively familiar with and could properly represent, which isn’t many :,)

so i will write an imagine for a bilingual reader with a language i’m going to school for: ✨sign language✨

i hope that’s okay :)

a/n — i am still a student and i’m constantly learning, so if there’s a detail or some information that i’m incorrect about, please tell me asap !!!

✨masterlist✨.

2.5k.

Sitting alone at cafes was a custom for you. People watching, spectating murmurs and laughter but never quite grasping it. You lacked the understanding of how the sound captured their conversing, but you weren’t missing anything. Your focus was mainly set on finishing your chemistry homework, anyways.

Midway through an equation, the light shifted over your table. You felt the dip in the booth on your left and looked up to see who sat beside you. Your eyes met the deepest brown pair you swore you’d ever seen. It was almost like the rest of the room lit up with color after you first caught a glimpse.

You certainly recognized the boy. He went to school with you, but you’d barely crossed paths other than having a class or two together. And from the way he glanced at your paperwork, you assumed that chemistry was on his schedule too.

His lips moved, and your eyes studied their shapes as best as they could. Perhaps he was nervous, or overly caffeinated, but the movement was too swift to distinguish.

Slowly, you shook your head at him, right index finger pointing to your ear. Apology and disappointment weighted your eyelids. You really did want to see what he wanted to ask you, but your expectation was for him to up and leave.

Instead, sudden understanding washed over him; a look of epiphany. Quickly after, patience overtook the presence beside you. You were shocked. He tried to slow his words of choice down, using his hands to illustrate but not really communicate. You could tell he was trying, so you didn’t want to make fun of his efforts. The smallest fit of laughter threatened to slip from your lips as you gestured at him to stop.

From the table, you grabbed your notebook and flipped to an empty page. Your pencil flew over the page to jot down a question:

‘Do you know any sign?’

You figured that was a start.

Watching the way he smiled, you nearly forgot to hand him your pencil to reply. Your eyes followed his hand as it met the parchment and scribbled so gently, it surprised you to see writing even stuck. He pushed it over to you. ‘Yes, I know one’

Your eyes met, and you studied him patiently. His right hand sat atop of his left elbow, holding a fist that excluded his pinky and index fingers; a rockstar skull. His left hand rested beneath his right elbow, opening and closing a fist with a flicking motion. It was a sign you knew all too well. ‘Bullshit,’ you watched him mouth.

The giggle bubbles through your throat with physical feeling, and your hands gently pressed his arms to make it stop. You shook your head, smiling as you corrected him.

Your dominant hand met your chin with an open hand, lightly touching the tips of your fingers to your face. As you moved your hand to the space in front of you, you closed your hand into a fist.

‘Bullshit,’ you mouthed back at him. The crinkle in the boy’s brow marked his confusion.

Pen met paper again as you wrote out the explanation. ‘Hearing people came up with a fake sign to act like they knew shit.’

He looked up at you with some disgust to his expression, and you simply shrugged at him.

Politely, he held his hand out for the pen, and you gave it to him with the trust that he’d return it soon after.

‘Then maybe you could teach me some instead?’

The grin on your lips was unbreakable, and only seemed to grow the more you kept up the conversation. You nodded your head, writing a simple ‘sure:)’ beside his note. You met his eyes again, pointing to your chest before swiftly fingerspelling your name. The boy marveled at your hand, equally lost and mesmerized.

His pointer finger rapidly twirled the air, circling near his face four or five times; you assumed that meant he wanted you to repeat yourself. So, you agreed.

Slowly, you held out each hand shape of your name a little longer, waiting til the twinkle in his eyes indicated that the letter was registering for him. It was fairly entertaining to watch.

He wrote it on the notebook once he got it just to clarify with you. ‘Y/N?’ He seemed nervous for your reply.

You signed yes, then gestured for him to do the same. You wanted to see what his name was.

Hesitantly, the boy tried his best, bouncing each hand shape to the letters of his name. It made you happy to see his attempt, and you were fond of his efforts.

Pulling the notebook closer, you jot down his name. ‘Peter?’

You’d never forget the way he smiled at you afterwards. ‘Yes:)’ He wrote back. ‘You want help with chemistry?’

And that’s how you met Peter Parker.

You were an unlikely duo at Midtown. It was nice to have somebody in the classroom to have secret conversations with, and to teach sign to. Peter picked most things up pretty quickly, especially because he had an excellent teacher. Plus, little did you know that he watched ASL courses off YouTube in his free time.

That is, his freetime when he wasn’t being Spider–Man.

He never told you that he was Spider–Man. In fact, you didn’t find out he was until a few months into your friendship. After months of study hours and movie nights, you watched Spider–Man signing to a Deaf kid on the news; the web–slinging superhero signed what like salad.

That was a classic Peter Parker mistake.

So, when were you planning to tell me you’re Spider–Man? You asked him, signing nonchalantly. You’d waited all week until you two were alone, studying like you normally did on the weekends. You sat back on his desk chair, raising a brow, calm and collected.

It took everything in him not to forget how to respond. Peter had been practicing sign, but he still wasn’t nearly as versed as you were. What? He started. Poor way to respond on his part. You pointed at his hands, trying to call him out.

That! You were so determined to catch him in his coverup, opening your laptop.

His hands flailed to try and capture your attention. However, your laser focus was something he couldn’t cut.

Having the clip ready, you played it, turning the screen towards him and showing him the fluke in his signs.

Peter facepalmed when he noticed, face red as a tomato but you couldn’t care less. You felt more than accomplished to have deciphered his secret. You owe me!

Signing, Peter got over himself a little, rolling his eyes playfully at you. Whatever, fine!

To help Peter practice his signing, you’d dismissed your in–class interpreters the second the bell rang and had Peter translate your questions to your teachers. Perhaps it was selfish to put him on the spot, but when you’d asked him about it later, he said he was more than happy to help you out.

He enjoyed learning sign, almost as much as he enjoyed his time with you. Peter had never met anyone as amazing as you; nobody that he’d met before watched the world with your eyes, or lit up a room so vibrantly. You always asked the right questions, saw straight through people’s bullshit, and put others’ needs far before your own. Don’t even get him started on the fact that you’d never even heard your own laugh before.

Peter couldn’t wrap his head around all the things he thought you were missing out on. That was how he saw it, at least, til you changed his mind. He was grateful to know how your fit of giggles sang to him, but there was more things to life than that. Sound was only one way to see the world; if you choose to act like it’s a principle more than a privilege, you’ll get nowhere. He knew he’d waste time dwelling on things you weren’t even sad over.

Instead, Peter would marvel at how fluently and beautifully you’d sign when you were passionate about something. The choreographed tangents that you’d go on absolutely mesmerized him, even though he could only pick up one or two things you were saying.

Your hands moved so fast, he second guessed whether you were actually communicating or just painting a masterpiece with the shapes of your hand.

That blissful, ecstatic look in your eyes told Peter everything he needed to know. He was the luckiest boy in the world to know you.

You were the most joyous person he knew.

That joy was a strength that you’d gained overtime, though.

Rushing down the school halls, you had memorized the rhythm underneath your feet as you pattered down the tile. You always pictured the sound like something fragile, or feathered, especially seeing as your shoes had rubber soles. Sometimes, when you walked slow enough, you could feel the rattling steps of other students around you.

Today, specifically, the rumbled pattern beneath you threw you off your rocker.

Especially as the charging steps behind you tread right in your direction.

A hefty pair of hands shoved your shoulder blades, pushing you toppling into the floor beneath you. The sound of chatter couldn’t be heard, but you certainly felt the energy in the hallway shift. Pressing off the floor with your hands, you noticed the eyes now mindful to your presence. You had an audience.

You flipped yourself around to look at the shadow towering over you. Some flimsy–looking, curly haired, short classmate of yours stood above you. His hands perched on his hips as he spewed words at you, mouth moving far too quickly to lip read. You stayed there, staring up at him with a glare, merely making out the words ‘stupid’ and ‘Parker’ from his muted speech.

You were used to bullies, but you couldn’t sit while this dickhead kept Peter Parker’s name disrespectfully in his mouth.

Just as you pressed up to rise to your feet, this bitchass shoved the toe of his shoe right in the center of your chest, pushing you back into the ground and leaving dirt all over your favorite top. You felt the gasp leave your throat, trying to fight against it.

That’s when Peter Parker swooped in and forced the boy away from you. Anger wasn’t an expression you’d seen on Peter’s face, and you couldn’t tell whether it was something to awe at or fear.

Their echoed shouts and feuds and insults bounced from the floor and into your fingertips. You could tell the words they exchanged were ugly, considering that the two were face to face and both had such crease to their eyebrows. Fists clenched, shoulders squared, you could tell they were about to brawl.

Peter threw the first punch, taking you by surprise but still sending a smile to your lips. The two boys had a displeasing fight to the eye, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to look away.

A girl to your left offered a hand to help you off the floor, to which you signed a quick thank you before both of you saw the boys getting caught by a set of teachers. All it took was a second before the two boys froze dead in their stances and peacefully walked with the teachers down the hall to the principal’s office.

In an instant, all eyes found their way to you and your dirt–stained top. Before you let them react to the heat growing on your cheeks, you rushed off, going to the one place you knew you wouldn’t be disturbed in.

Two and a half hours passed before Peter walked through the open door of his bedroom, a small smile on his lips as he greeted you. Are you okay? He signed quickly, soon shutting the door.

Are you okay? You signed right back, swift to press off your spot on his bed and walk over to him. Peter was the one with the blackened eye and busted lip. Clearly he should be the one to worry about. Your hands found his cheeks and gently cupped his face as you looked at his injuries. The sight broke your heart.

Although, you weren’t expecting to see his pale cheeks brighten with red in your grasp. You could feel the second when his breath stopped fanning your face, and that’s when you realized that his breath had been fanning your face; you were inches away from him. The atmosphere of the room changed.

‘What?’ You mouthed, brows creasing together with concern. You weren’t stupid, but you were definitely choosing to ignore the obvious. There was no way that Peter Parker was flustered by you, right? That was preposterous.

His eyes threatened a glance at your lips before you felt his fingers curl around your wrist. Peter moved your left hand to his chest, pressing against his heart. The skin beneath his shirt pulsed against you, and quickened by the second. Things felt very intimate, things felt very thick and hot and heavy. You didn’t notice it til right then that the room was getting hotter.

Your eyes caught a glimpse of his lips and you hadn’t noticed that you were staring at them. Peter’s face moved closer to your’s and that’s when you decided to be bold. You captured his lips with yours, kissing him tenderly, careful. The caress of his hands down your sides and grasp he held around your waist told you that you didn’t have to tread as cautiously.

Peter kissed you and every inch of you felt warm. You swore you’d lifted off the ground when his hands held your back, your hips, your waist. His lips against yours truly felt something like magic and you never wanted to leave this moment. A moment where his hair was silk between your fingers and his body became one with your’s.

Pulling back, Peter kept his arms around you, now taking the time and the close proximity to study you and your injuries; you learned to recognize the protective look in his eyes. His stare stopped and stuck itself to the dirt smudged between your breasts. He moved his right hand from your waist. Your shirt.. Peter couldn’t help but stare at the stain.

You couldn’t care less about it. What? You want it off? You joked, watching the immediate shift in his expression, and feeling the laughter he admitted through the tips of your fingers on his torso. Peter pulled you back into a kiss and you knew right then and there that things would be different.

Never in your life did you think you’d get so lucky as to meet Peter Parker, but now that you had him, you knew you’d never let him go.

[lushpuppyxxx]

Fantasizing about being taken to a fancy pants restaurant wearing a fancy dress because you’ve always wanted to eat here and you thought it would be perfect for your plan to humiliate me.

You recommend a fancy martini to go with my fancy meal. Since I’m feeling so fancy and sophisticated, I say yes.

The martini comes with the appetizers. It’s extra dry, with extra olives - an inside joke, but one that makes me feel even fancier. I sip it as I eat but before I know it, it’s empty.

You suggest having another. We’re about to have a heavy meal, after all, I probably won’t even feel it. The second comes with the salads. You tip the rim of my glass against my lip to finish it before I even touch my salad.

I giggle, feeling a little flushed and lightheaded for some reason. You order me a third to go with the entree. My tongue and lips are a little tingly from the first two so the third goes down easier. I giggle again, sliding down in my seat a little, my fancy dress riding up around my thighs even as my tits attention to escape the front. I accuse you of “drying to get me dry- I mean - drunk.”

You patiently explain that of course you’re not trying to get me drunk. You’re just trying to take me out for a fancy dinner where I can feel fancy.

Speaking of “fanshee,” you order me a fourth just as the first three hit my bladder. “Scuuse me,” I tell you, lurching up from my chair. You watch with a bemused look on your face as I wobble for a moment. “There! ‘Tol you I wuzznt drunk yet.”

I hadn’t said that but you’re nice enough not to point it out. “That means you can have two when you get back.”

I snicker and giggle as I sway my way to the restroom, but for some reason I don’t think to pull my panties down. I sit there, weaving only a little, shocked that I had peed my panties after only three drinks. You’d told me martinis weren’t very strong because they’re so few ingredients but I’m feeling…

I burp, loudly. It echoes off the bathroom walls and I laugh. “I think I’m a lil drunk!” I inform the rest of the one-person restroom. I burp again, tasting martini and Cesar salad dressing.

I decide I can’t go back to the table with wet panties so I pull them off and shove them in the trash can, giggling to myself as I wash my hands. My fancy dress will hide the fact that I’m not wearing panties, hopefully. I burp one more time before pushing the bathroom door open.

The trip back to the table is more difficult than the way from, and I stumble at the very last moment, causing you to chuckle. “Here are your two more,” you say, extending your hands to illustrate the two martini glasses sitting in front of me. One of them splits so I see five, then back to three. I reach out to grab the third one, but miss.

I giggle and try again.

It goes down realllllly smooth this time. I hum a little and close my eyes as the booze warms me up from head to toe and makes everything fuzzy and fun.

And fancy!

I take another few big sips because it seems very full and I don’t want it to spill. “S’delish…lish…lish… HIC!”

Heads turn to our table and I duck my head. “D’lishous, hip!”

“Oh, glorious,” you say, clapping your hands together. “You still have half that drink left, it’s bad form to leave drinks unfinished.”

That’s right. It’s rude, you’ve always told me that. I drink down the second half more quickly, tucking the nipple that had popped loose back into my dress.

“Oh!” I exclaim, suddenly remembering, “I los’ my pannies.”

You smirk. “You’re not going to need panties.”